#the harsher toned moments is purely me just trying to understand why we give word count so much value
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I don't consider myself a slow writer or fast writer or anything of that sort. And to be quite honest I don't personally understand the immense weight/value that the writing community gives to word count goals or achieving/not achieving a certain word count. I get that it can be cool/fun to track your writing statistics over the years or set goals for yourself if, for example, you're trying to push yourself to query/publish and want to meet a certain deadline, but...outside of that? What does pressuring ourselves to achieve a certain word count actually accomplish? Like I'm really trying and struggling to understand. Does someone who wants to teach themselves piano so they can make cool music think less of themselves if they don't practice 8+ hours every day? Does someone learning to crotchet because they wanna make cool things to give to their family/friends grow miserable because they don't finish one crotchet "project" a week? If we truly love writing, then why do we beat ourselves up for not achieving some arbitrary metric of productivity regarding something we enjoy?
So I think the first thing is to ask ourselves - why does word count matter so much to us? How does the amount you write a day/week/month directly say anything about you or your skills as a writer? The amount of effort you've put in or how far you've come? That's an internal question that I can't answer for you. But someone can write 10k words a day and it's just a garbled mess of ideas to get words on the page because they're just starting out as a writer or simply zero drafting. Similarly, someone can spend an entire week perfecting 200 words of their wip and it's the best 200 words they've written in months. Is one person 'better' or 'more talented' than the other between the two? If one of your friends came to you and told you that all they've written that week was 50 words but it's the best 3 sentences they'd written in ages would you judge them/look down on them and say 'ew seriously you only wrote 50 words this week you're a shitty writer'? maybe, if you're an asshole but otherwise I highly doubt it.
Secondly, I think we need to realize how easy it is to make snap judgements. And I don't mean in the sense of looking at someone and judging them harshly. I think it's important to realize that every time we talk to someone or log onto Tumblr and see someone post about their writing progress that we are catching them at a very specific moment in time. You don't know where that person was in their writing journey 10 mins ago, 10 days ago, or 10 months ago. So that person you see writing thousands of words a day? Guess what, they're just coming out of a 3 year long writing slump and have just caught a wind of inspiration that's made them the most prolific and productive they've been in ages. But you're just catching them at that one specific moment, so you would never know that. This is not to say that there aren't people out there that do consistently hit high word counts for months and months on end and that's great for them! But I can assure you that that's not the majority of people. No well of creativity is bottomless or endless. Creativity and motivation come and go. You're going to experience highs and lows. Periods of massive inspiration or periods of nothing at all. And we all have lives outside of writing that dictate how much we can actually dedicate to this hobby of ours. That's just how the writing life goes.
So my point is this - be kind to yourself. Your worth as a writer cannot and should not be whittled down to a number. The same way you would congratulate your friend for being able to get 50 words down on the page in one week, do the same for yourself. Great, epic stories can be told in a 100k words. But meaningful stories can also be told in 3k words. 500 words. 3 sentences. As long as you're having fun and telling the story you want to tell, none of that matters. Your reader isn't going to judge how good your story is based on the number of words it contains, so why should you?
Slow writers of tumblr: has anyone figured out The Key to not comparing yourself to your peers who hit massive word counts daily? Or is this something we all struggle with together?
#ink replies#if the tone of this sounds harsh or targeted toward you in anyway it's not meant to be and I apologize#the harsher toned moments is purely me just trying to understand why we give word count so much value#but just read this as me booping you on the head and saying 'you're a great writer regardless of how many words you write!'#and any mentions of the word 'you' are a general you to others who feel like this - not you specifically
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omg i’m such a dumbass i can’t believe i missed your prompts😭 if it’s not too late can we get some window with suna? he’s just so perfect for it. hope you’re doing well!💓
Awa, you didn’t miss them at all! Thanks for requesting, I hope you’re doing well too ♥ I decided to make a continuation of the Kitsune!AU I did with Suna before here so I could work on his character more.
Window - “…How fucking dense are you?”
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
You started buying groceries for two.
It was utterly idiotic that you tolerated that... person’s demands. Especially when you could barely afford to feed another person. More than once, you found yourself holding your phone, dialing the police. But when you looked up, seeing him merely laying on your couch watching TV, you completely forgot what you wanted to say. He didn’t look menacing. He didn’t even try to scare you like a robber would. And how would you even start to explain the fox ears and tail to anyone?
A hunter might have been a better option. But were they and their guns effective against mythical creatures as well? You tried to research it, google for every information you could find, but aside from stories and myths, there were no hints on the internet that this man should actually exist. If you believed the old tellings, they weren’t as uncommon to see back then, but their population seemed to have decreased with the humans taking over most parts of the world.
Thinking logically, that was still no reason for you specifically to endure him. Especially if it were the humans having the upper hand, he should be afraid of you, rather than the other way around! So what if you were nice enough to feed him?
You still couldn’t understand why he was sticking around you.
His ears folding back, Suna finally turned to you, glaring at you in annoyance. “Why are you staring?” he asked, and you flinched, noticing how you had peeked around the corner for too long. It was hard to avoid him, considering he took up a lot of your living space, but you were still reluctant to interact with him. “Just come over here if you want to watch the show.”
Truth be told, he never looked as if he was enjoying what he was watching, but you had seen him put on the same kind of program again and again over time, so surely, he must have taken a liking to it either way. “Is that... your favorite show?” you asked timidly, approaching the couch with a reasonable distance. Even if he was annoyed from your staring, he did invite you over, and it was as good of a time to ask him to leave as any.
“It’s alright,” he replied, and his tail gave a slow wag, making you think he did like it. “Cool, cool...” you mumbled, shooting the TV a short glance, the flashing of bright colors and the loud voices of the moderation appalling you. Suna’s attention returned to you, his eyes giving you a slow, appraising look up and down before he patted the free space next to him on the couch. “Sit,” he kept inviting you as if your presence standing next to the amenity was dissatisfactory for him.
Making this step was harder for you than you thought at first. Hesitantly, you slid on the cushion furthest away from Suna, pressing up to the armrest on your side while he was leaning on the other one, watching you from the corners of his eyes.
Why you even followed his instructions was puzzling, but you hoped he’d take what you were about to say better when you made him comfortable. Clearing your throat, you announced, “So, when do you plan on leaving...?” avoiding to look at him even after you finished speaking.
“Leave what?” A yawn escaped him before his attention shifted back to the program on TV. “My home... this house. Here?” was your lousy explanation, and fiddling with your fingers, you noticed that you were growing nervous with every silent second between you two.
“I don’t know--”
“I’m not going to feed you anymore.”
These words left you the second you heard his dismissive tone of voice and without much consideration. Simply, you were too scared to listen to his rejection. You wanted him out and rather yesterday than tomorrow at that. “I... I can’t keep feeding you. It’s too expensive; I’ll run out of money,” you tried to explain, hoping this was enough to persuade you.
“Huh...” he grumbled, his fingers tapping against the leather on the couch. “I don’t want to leave,” he eventually mustered to say, taking a deep breath before sitting up straight. “But you can’t stay...” you disappointingly replied.
“Can’t I?”
“No,” you said firmly, standing your ground.
Inching closer to you, his presence was suddenly unnerving. You wondered what the point was in closing in the distance, not sure what he would do. “I can’t feed you anymore a-and, uh, you are over... over-staying your welcome!”
It sure didn’t help that he was leaning towards you, slender features and pure skin soon covering all you could see. Black hair as you looked towards the ceiling, an unpredictable expression when your gaze graced his face.
“... How fucking dense are you?” he asked you suddenly, using harsher words than you had ever heard him do before.
Next thing you knew, he had your hands restraint, pushing your upper body back to bend over the armrest. The burning you felt of the strain in your back was your smallest concern at that moment; instead, you immediately focus on thin lips brushing down your neck and to your collarbones. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying.”
“B-But I-” you stuttered, trying to convince him and find a peaceful solution. Twisting and turning your wrists only revealed Suna’s strength, something he hadn’t used on you before, so you never had a chance to find out about it until now. “You won’t get rid of me just because you don’t feed me, you know.”
“What?” you squeaked, so sure of yourself that all your research had shown that animals who lost a source of food would move on. You had bet your entire confidence on this fact. “I don’t even need food,” he explained, seemingly reading your mind.
“Then why... Why did you stay?”
What followed was a long pause. So much so, you noticed your back pain again, twisting your torso to appease it and also moved your head around to free yourself of hair blocking your view. There was a vase on the coffee table. If only you could reach it, you’d have a chance of breaking free. But being able to see again, you noticed something moving rather excitedly behind Suna’s body, his tail wagging putting every dog to shame.
No second later, you felt the sharp pain of fangs in the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, and you flinched hard at it, only worsen the feeling. “Ah-!” you wanted to cry out, but the sound got stuck in your throat as he loosened his jaw, moving slightly more to the right to bite down again.
This time, you felt the tears shoot into your eyes, shock, pain, and fear covering your senses. “Who knows~” he chuckled, seemingly amused about your reaction. Pulling away from you, you could see the bloodstains around his mouth, almost making you faint as you could ultimately realize that he did, in fact, bit you twice just now.
“Maybe I stayed for you? I couldn’t wait to get a bite for sure. Want me to eat you up?”
He leaned down again, and this time, as weak as you felt, you could see your life flashing before your eyes, especially when you felt his tongue drag over the wounds he had just induced. In what must have been a survival instinct, you managed to shove your hands into his shoulders, his grip having weakened as he didn’t expect you to resist. The next moment you were free, falling off the couch and to your feet, gone in the blink of an eye. You only stopped when the door to your bedroom closed behind you, and you locked it, sinking to the ground.
You had nothing on you; no phone or cell, nothing to make yourself known to the outside world. If you climbed out the window or exit through the door, you were almost sure you were a feast for the fox. There was barely anything you could do to calm your racing heart or stop hyperventilating as your mind desperately thought of alternatives. If this was just one of his jokes, you were taking it way too seriously, but how could you know?
How could you know what was true and false about the grinning fox spirit standing in front of your bedroom door, licking his lips in delight?
#Suna#Suna Rintarou#Rintarou Suna#Suna hq#yandere suna#yandere!suna#Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu#HQ!!#yandere haikyuu#yandere!haikyuu#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW#lovelove prompts#Anonymous
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Dearest treasure | KTH
|PART 1| |PART 2| |PART 3|
Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.
Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour
Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death
Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts together)
Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)
Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)
Main Masterlist
2089 (present)
Jungwon took a glance down towards the camera clasped tightly in the palm of his hand. With a heavy breath, his eyes slowly moved up to the big house in front of him. Former white paint - now a dirty grey almost everywhere - was already peeling itself from the walls, dozens of thick ivy tendrils sneaking up to the dirty windows and even further. It looked just like the old spooky houses, Jungwon had secretly seen in horror movies his parents were watching. And it especially felt like it as well.
The cold wind was slowly whirling around the dead leaves on the ground, freeing the view to numerous mounds of earth spreading over the whole front yard and probably even backyard. Some were fresher than the others. Some were older than the others.
Jungwon could feel a wave of goosebumps hushing over his body, clearly not only being the cold winds fault. With one last reassuring nod to himself, he courageously made its way over the small path through the chaotic front yard towards the old wooden front door.
It had terrified him when he was a bit younger to even lay eyes on this house, let alone go any near it, and quite truthfully, Jungwon still felt a tiny wave of fear coming through. He had heard many things around this neighbourhood and school...creepy theories as to why the old man living inside this house was seen digging holes in his garden. From murder to even paranormal activities, everything was possible, referring one of the older kids at school, Park Jongseong, who tended to love scaring innocent young students with these stories. And he even heard parents trying to discipline their children, threatening them to pay ‘Killer Kang’ - that was the old man’s unfortunate nickname - a small visit if they did not behave. It was as if this small town didn’t have anything else to talk about than a lonely, slightly creepy, man. And if he remembered correctly, he never saw or heard anyone even trying to talk to him. So what did they know?
Jungwon heard a lot. To say the least, he questioned himself quietly if he should have just chosen another topic for his video and interview for a school project. He could have. But something deep down told him quietly not to judge too quickly, not to judge a book only by it’s cover. His parents and his grandmother taught him that early on and it stayed with him ever since. He wanted to give this poor scrutinised man a chance to actually explain himself. Why was he always digging these holes into the ground? Maybe he really was a serial killer and this would be Jungwons biggest mistake, but where’s the fun in not even trying? Right? He could only lose, well...his life...
The 14 year old boy quickly shook his head, trying to stay positive. And then he finally pressed the rusty bell on the side of the door. He heard nothing at first, it was as quiet as it could get, no steps, no talking, no TV. The eerie feeling hanging in the air didn’t make it any better for Jungwon to stay calm and not giddy. “You can do this! He’s not even creepy.” He tried to hype himself up.
He almost wanted to ring again, as his heart sunk. Damp slow steps were coming closer and closer, making him hold his breath unconsciously. The door opened in an awful slow motion, revealing the old man everyone was afraid of. White hair framed his sunken in face full of deep wrinkles. He used a walking stick to stand, his position was crouched forward, so he was about the same height as him, maybe even a bit smaller. And when Jungwon met his eyes, there was a glint in them, that almost scared him off like all the other kids would have. But he stayed put.
The man didn’t say anything, just stared at him, awaiting him to explain this very unusual visit. Nobody had ever dared to ring his house. Not even the mailman thought of doing so.
“Good Morning Mr Kang. Uhm ...I am Yang Jungwon.” The young boy began with slightly unstable voice, trying to get a hold of himself. “I am a student at Namgang Highschool and we are currently doing individual video projects containing an interview with someone we find fascinating and want to learn more about. And...I was wondering if...if maybe it would be possible to...interview you?” Jungwon managed to squeak out, hiding his trembling hands from Mr. Kangs boring hawk eyes.
He still hadn’t said anything, looking up and down the underaged student. Then his eyes met his shaky ones again. “Is this a joke again, boy? Because I have no tolerance for silly boy pranks.” He finally muttered out in a harsh tone, letting Jungwon flinch the slightest. He quickly shook his head, implying that this was his last wish to do.
“No sir, no I swear this is a very serious question and project. I wouldn’t dare to do anything but.” The boy rambled, now fiddling nervously with the hem of his uniform jacket. The man pulled his glasses somewhat higher on his nose before he gave the student a hesitant nod.
“You are the first person for years daring to come talk to me...” he noted absent minded, eyes wandering behind the boy to check if there really weren’t any stupid kids hiding inside the bushes. “How...extraordinary.” He muttered, clinging onto his walking stick as he began turning around.
“You said fascinating people, boy? I have to disappoint you, there is nothing interesting about me, I dare say.” A small sigh left his mouth, beginning to close his door slowly but Jungwon was quicker. What had gotten into him? Was it the surprise at his not so cold attire or maybe has he just gone crazy? But Jungwon wanted to know more about his story. There had to be more.
“Sir, no please. You may think so but quite frankly you are the talk of town every day.” Jungwon began but got stopped hearing the other one scoffing displeased. “Killer Kang...I know this nickname they all give me. Do you use it too? I don’t want to have anything to do with people like this.” His tone got harsher again.
Jungwon frantically shook his head again. “I don’t. I would never. This is the reason why I chose to interview you in the first place. I want to hear your part about everything. I think it is only fair to give you a proper chance to explain. They just don’t know.” He gave the man a pleading look. Mr. Kang hesitated again, letting the boys words sink in. He didn’t seem like he could harm a fly, he thought. Was is worth the struggle?
He didn’t know what or why he was doing it but the next thing Jungwon saw was him walking slowly into the house again, leaving the door open. Should he follow? A quick look over his shoulder told him he should. Jungwon couldn’t believe he really meant it so he still stood unsure, fiddling with the silver camera in his hands, metal cooling against his sweaty palms. “Are you coming, or what?” The now softer voice of the white haired man asked still trotting forward in a steady pace.
This woke Jungwon immediately out of his trance, stumbling clumsily stuttering and rambling while thanking him over and over again. He had made it.
He entered the dark hallway, suddenly being hit with a strong smell of a typical musty grandparents house. It remembered him of his own grandmother’s one, where he spent almost half of his childhood. With one swift movement, he gently shut the door and followed the tracks of this houses owner without forgetting to put his shoes off. There were some stacks of newspaper laying around randomly, old picture frames hanging on some of the white and dark green walls and old brown rugs adorning the cold floor. He noticed a small picture of a young lady in a baby blue dress, sitting on a self built swing while smiling ear to ear. But he quickly moved on. It was as every other old people’s home, Jungwon thought.
“Boy, say, do you want a cup of tea? Or water?” The young student heard the now calm voice asking him, seeing as they arrived in the living room. An antique looking glass chandelier was hanging right in the middle, brown couches placed generously inside the big room. Jungwon was surprised. He expected to shake with pure fear in his veins, but why did it feel like he was just visiting his grandparents? A friendly visit. That was the first moment he knew he misjudged the famously feared old man.
“No thank you. I was wondering if I could maybe...film the whole thing? The interview? I prepared some questions already if that is fine with you.” Jungwon timidly pulled out the camera behind his back and soon enough some pieces of paper. There was a moment of silence, Mr. Kang just looking speechlessly at the innocent and oh so polite brown haired boy. His heart already told him, despite his inner conflicts, that he was a nice boy. A really well-behaved kid. He could tell him, he could understand, and maybe even help. At least that was his hope.
“You are really something else. Jungho was your name?” With small steps he wandered to one of the couches, plopping down painfully slow with a nasty crack of his bones into an already deep hollow on the couch. Just like his grandparents. Jungwon by now was really overwhelmed by the mans compliance and...kindness?
“It’s Jungwon, Mr. Kang.” He added, earning an understanding nod from his side, followed by a motion of his hand for him to sit down. “Of course, of course. You can set up the camera on the table if you have to. It was a long time ago since...anyone filmed me.”
It didn’t took long for the eager student to put his camera on the table in a good angle. His script was already sprawled all across his lap and with nervous looks in between, he asked the man if he was ready to begin the interview. Jungwon was aching to know the truth behind the misunderstood lonely person in front of him. He finally wanted to clear the unpleasant rumours about him, wanting to know what really was behind his actions.
“Ready, boy.”
Jungwon clicked the red recording button on his camera, sitting down on the couch behind it. And he did not waste any time to start.
“My first question for you Mr Kang, has to do with your widely spreaded nickname. As you told me earlier, you were already aware of such name. What do you think about it?”
It was the second time, he heard him scoff in annoyance. “It’s ridiculous what people tend to gossip behind someone’s back when they are bored. Whoever believes these ignorant, mindless comments should go to school again and get educated. This nickname... ‘Killer Kang’ -“ he stopped to caugh out loudly, repositioning himself more comfortable in his seat before continuing to talk. “ - holds absolute no truth in it. I can’t seem to think why somebody even invented it.”
Jungwon immediately nodded in agreement, earning a small nod from the man himself. “That was exactly my point. It looked almost like people just invented some crazy untrue theories when they cannot seem to understand a certain...action.” He tried to find the right words. “It’s probably nothing new to hear, but people around this town, I think they came up with this name solely to...to find an explanation as to why...the holes...I mean you digging them with a shovel in your garden...is that...” he lost his voice in the end of his sentence, not wanting to say any wrong words.
But Mr. Kang just nodded, looking out of the window with a distant look. He suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It’s probably not the answer you or all the people would like to hear. All the foolish theories. It’s something far more...simple.” He looked over to Jungwon, soft eyes under the thick crease above them. He was ready to tell someone. Just anyone. He longed for a conversation for too long, maybe that is why he agreed in the first place.
He was so lonely.
“Let me tell you my story right from the beginning. I hope you do have some time, boy, it might be a longer story.”
And then he began to tell his story. Your story.
#kpop#kpop imagines#imagines#kpop fanfiction#kpop imagine#tomorrow x together fanfic#tomorrow x together#txt ff#txt imagine#txt fluff#txt angst#txt taehyun imagines#txt taehyun#kang taehyun imagine#Kang Taehyun#kang taehyun angst#kang taehyun fluff#txt Taehyun angst#txt scenarios#txt fanfic#taehyun fanfic#txt taehyun fluff#kang taehyun scenarios#txt imagines#txt#txt soft hours#Kang Taehyun ff#txt x reader#txt Taehyun
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A Bundle of Joy
Warnings: Forced Impregnation, Non-Con
Word Count: 3.1K
A/N: They’re both pure trash in this lmao
You’re still scared of them. Still wary every time they raise a hand too suddenly. You may behave now, but they’re perfectionists through and through. You must be a doll to survive, always smiling, hands perched on your lap, always delicate and small, no matter how tall you try to stand. As much as you hate it, you’ve learned their patterns, seen how they act and how they comfort, the almost primal way that they let their hands roam over your body. Rough hands that seem to take pleasure in how you cry and squeal, unforgiving and striking your body when you aren’t quick enough to say your thanks, to tell them how you love them, how grateful you are that they are here to take care of you.
Overhaul will come in, his hands covered in those sickening gloves, the black mask soon replaced by the plague-like one, the curved beak with gold. He had learned early on that you feared him more when he wore the more ornate mask, how you cowered and never took your eyes off of him when he walked in the room. He found himself loving how you watched when his hands, the way he would peel a glove off before touching your body, how his palm would sting when he would smack you, how you’d fall and clutch the side of your face, tears already streaming, how the harsh sting of his hand would counter the tender moment when he held your face in his hands, soft fingertips that would trace over the sore spot. He would grow sick of you relatively quick. He tells you he loves you, he holds you by the face, manicured nails pressed into the soft fat of your cheeks, digging until you’re whimpering from the pain, daring to hold onto his hands, trying to pry him off of you until he slaps you again. It’s the one time you’ll ever see Overhaul so ugly, so hideous and undeserving, pupils dilated, face flushed and a curl on his top lip, teeth white and pristine, marking your body, hands that pinch and twist, and while you cry and beg for him to stop, he’ll yell obscenities at you. He’ll tell you how you deserve it all, how you want to be hit by him, that that must be why you touch him, why your cunt always tightens around his cock, how he can feel your arousal drip onto him, the way you cry and cling to him, how no matter the amount of times that he hits you, how he leaves you bruised and whimpering, you always seem to react to his touch, cunt leaking and lips meshing against his, hands curved around his neck as you hold him close, rolling your hips as he stills, playing a sick game where he makes you chase your own high as he fills you with his seed.
Chronostasis is much different than him, but similar all at once. A different side to the same coin. He’s softer around you, almost as loving as an actual partner, doting and cared for, pulling you close to his chest once Overhaul has ridden himself of the “filthy desires that he has”, cared for and letting his hands soothe over the parts where Overhaul went too far, letting you cry on him, sobbing until you can’t speak, until you can’t deny him when his fingers start to pump at your abused sex, letting the still warm seed slide out and dirty your thighs. He shushes you, holds you until he carries you onto his lap, fucks you as you cry, holds you tight and tells you only pleasant things, he calls you pretty, presses his lips against your neck and massages your breasts. Chronostasis is nothing but soft with you as he does a cruel action to you. He will hold you, press himself close to you, rock his hips into yours, kiss at your wet lips, kiss away the tears, and he welcomes you when you touch him, forces you to hold him, and leave your mark against him. He wants nothing more than to fill you with his seed, to hold you and make sure it’s nestled deep in your womb, as you lie spent on him, too exhausted to move further than you can.
They hold you with a chain, a collar around your neck and you wait for your command. You don’t want to be hurt, you don’t want the sick twisted feeling where you want their touch but are far too repulsed by it. You tried for far too long, pushing them away and while they promised they would give you whatever you asked for, hand you all the riches and wants you could ever dream of, they never promised they would hurt you. So they wait, wait until you’re far too lonely, until you’re talking to yourself and banging on the door, scratching until your hands are bloodied and apologizing, telling them you didn’t mean to be shrewd, you miss them, you’ll always miss them. You’re a good little doll. You’re easy to fix, warm and pleasant, wrapped in blankets while hands circle your clit and pump into your cunt.
You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to be with them but they provide the only happiness you can ever have. Until they come into the room, masks removed, gloves off, dressed in something casual, and you watch, clinging to a pillow like a scared child and you don’t want to be hit.
“Hi, Kai-kun. Hello, Hari-kun.” Your heart races in your chest, your hands curling over the pillow and you’re terrified. “It’s early, isn’t it? Is there something that you need?” You hope there isn’t. You hope they’ve gone back to their daily check-ups- as annoying as it was, being watched and supervised like a child, you don’t want them here for another reason. If they’re both here, nothing good can come out of it.
“You’ve been rather tense lately.” Kai speaks first, walking towards you and his eyes are on everything else but you. “Perhaps, we haven’t let you have as much freedom as you deserve. And for that, I-” a cleared throat makes him revisit his words- “we apologize.” You stare at Overhaul and turn to Chronostasis whose corners of his lips twitch into a small smile. “We both decided to-” Overhaul waves an ungloved hand in the air and he gives you a bored look- “give you a present.”
You choose to look at Chronostasis. “A present?”
His smile stretches and he’s quick to sit beside you, holding your hand in his. He tilts his head, false kindness in his eyes and a foreign hand reaches to touch your cheek, stretching past the corner of your eye to hold you and it’s Overhaul’s. It’s tender and much different than what you’re used to with him.
“Do you remember when you ran your mouth?” The kindness twists into something much harsher, much more poisonous than what you can handle. “When you yelled and hit me in my chest? When Overhaul had to quiet that dirty, little mouth of yours?” He nods his head and another hand holds your face, forcing you to nod along. “Well, we decided that you had grown past the need for the little temper tantrums.” His eyes glance behind you. “We thought that if you had something to take care of, you would go back to the sweet, little thing that we had rescued all those nights ago.”
“I-” your mouth goes dry and you’re unable to breath- “I don’t understand.”
Your hand falls onto Chronostasis’s lap. “We’ve decided that motherhood would look quite lovely on you.”
Your eyes go wide and color drains from your face. Refusal is on your lips, you’re shaking your head and you're interrupted when lips brush against your ear, a chill running down your spine. “I don’t really care whose child it is that you carry.” Overhaul is quick to pin you down, to run a hand down your body, clothes shredded and spilled onto the bed, swept away with a hand. He’s quick to come above you, holding you and pinning you to the bed, bare body against his clothed one, a hand that cups your heat immediately, fingers entering you and you’re quick to cry as the rough feeling is sharp throughout your body. “Do you know why I don’t care?” His lips are on yours and his fingers curl inside of you. “Because you'll be having another right after.”
Hands leave and you’re able to move until you’re pressed down again, a bare body now against you, an erection poking against your thigh, dribbling with arousal as lips capture yours. Chronostasis is above you, his hair pricking at you, and you freeze, limbs stiff as he sits back admiring your flushed body.
“I think motherhood would suit you nicely. Breasts full of milk, a round belly with one of our own. And not to mention the hormones. You’ll be so needy, sensitive and begging for us to fill you back up.” His lips are wet, stormy eyes that darken with a storm, a crazed smile on him, and he ruts against your heat, slipping between your folds but never entering you. “I don’t think you could ever rid yourself of me afterwards- always buried deep inside as I nurse from your teats.” As if to prove a point, his lips wrap around your breasts, cheeks hollowing and he’s ruthless, suckling as if milk would suddenly appear. You knit your hands to his hair, trying to pull him off of you, already growing slick on his he flicks his tongue.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself Kurono.” Add with just a simple touch, he’s off of you, breast left slicked with his spit, replaced by Overhaul touching at the pebbled bud, dragging a finger between the valley of your breasts roughly, erasing traces of any spittle from him. “I’m much more fond of how more motherly you’re sure to become. Much more domestic, doting after the child, nestled on your lap, how you’ll cling and beg for us to take care of you after labor.” His words are sweet, but the tone is sickly, the smile thin and stretched into a caricature of a grin. “You’re going to look radiant with our child.” He pecks at the tip of your nose and with a final plea for him to stop, he enters you.
It hurts. He enters and he’s unforgiving, he presses himself deep inside of you, stretching you, your entrance burning as you lay on the bed, still and aware of all that is going on. A monster of hands that roam your body, feeding and clawing, squeezing at your breasts, rubbing the pert nipples between pinched fingers, until you’re crying and whimpering. Lips that attach to yours, muffling any cries, a hand the cups your belly, hands curving over the swell of it, and there’s an awful thought to the future at how round you’ll be, full of their child, full of children that you’ll have, any traces of abandonment, of freedom gone and you’ll be forced to care for their children, to love and pamper them while they hold you hostage. Your breathing is quick, rapid and your chest heaves. Bile rises and you want to claw at your throat, to let the blood shed before something much worse is spilled. You panic and you want to die and slowly your fingers begin to twitch but just as soon as they do, your hands are pinned above you.
“You’re either going to say our names,” Chronostasis starts, “or you go back to being still. And I know how much you hate that feeling.” A hand retracts from your pinned wrists, and glides down your curved body, moving past the swells of your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake until it settles on your clit, rubbing slowly around the pearl. “The powerless feeling, to not even move during it. I know how much you hate it. So be a good girl and say your thanks.”
“Thank you,” you have to swallow the poison on your lips, “Kai-kun.” The words are nothing but acidic on your tongue and you hate the feeling. You hate the sick game that they play. You wish for nothing more than to have never met them. You hate how they wish and want for you, how they touch you at their leisure, to kiss at your skin until you're bruised and marked. Your clit is pinched and despite the sharp yelp, you can feel yourself grow slick. “Please Kai,” you don’t know what you beg for, but you are aware how much he likes to feel in control, to have you in the palm of his hand. “Be gentle.” You hate how full you feel, the thick cock that’s inside, fucking you only for his pleasure, how ruthless he is, how his eyes, a beautiful gold that shines under the sun is tainted and marked by something ugly and twisted. “Don’t-” you squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to buck your hips to meet his- “let the baby be conceived from something so foul.” Perhaps that’s the way to him, to let him think of the act as filth.
He laughs and you hate how it sounds. The sweet, rich laugh that you longed to hear years ago, how you would stare in awe at how radiant he was. But now, it’s comforting and sickening and you wish to cover your ears. He leans close to you and how breath is cool and smells like mint. “As long as I show you care afterwards, that’s all that matters. Plus, it feels good knowing how tight you clench at how ruthless I am. The way your cunt throbs and pulses, aroused by a sheer pumping. You were wet long before Kurono started to play at the clit of yours. Trust me, you'll enjoy this by the time I’m done. You’ll be creaming and begging for more, filled with our semen, finger-fucking yourself as we watch. You’ll hump us yourself as you wish for more of us.” His lips are on yours. “You can tell yourself how you hate this, but quite frankly, when we have tried to be nice to you before, you could never make yourself reach your orgasm. But it doesn’t matter if you climax or not.” His face scrunches and his thrusts grow harsher, pushing deep into you, slower movements and he’s already close. “All that matters is that you bear our child.” Hands flick at your clit, and Kai buries his head into your shoulder, shuddering and moans fills the room. They’re sweet, pretty and high, gasping for breath, chanting your name and curving a hand over your stomach and he’s still, his semen kept inside of you, hot and wanting, seeking inside of you. Everything about Kai is beautiful, a god among people, eyes that gleam and hold treasure, his moans a song to be praised and revered, and you whine, your hands finally free as your cover your mouth and try to match him and his song, muffled and loved, his hips moving once more, a lewd clicking noise, as he helps you reach your own climax, his words always a threat and always one to take seriously but always caring that you enjoy your time with him lest you truly begin to resent him and when you orgasm, you call his name and wrap your arms around him, bringing him close to your naked chest, crying until he’s pulling away and his seed drips until you’re filled by Hari.
Much softer and much more giddy about what your pregnancy could mean. He’s quick to enter you, to stuff you back with leaking ejaculates, as he’s quick to move, ignoring how sensitive you are. Your mewls and teary-eyed look doing nothing but add onto how helpless and coveted you are. He moves inside of you and he kisses your lips.
“You’re so warm and wet,” he mumbles against you, lips brushing and true to Kai’s word, you’re needy, grabbing his face and kissing him, a hand slipping between the two bodies to rub at your throbbing clit, aching and heavy, the knot in your belly quickly forming and you want to be filled again. “So eager.” You can feel the knowing smile on your lips and you can feel the shared glances between the men. A hand pets at the top of your head. You are nothing but obedient right now. “A filthy, little whore, ready to be bred like the swine that she is.” His words are cruel but it fuels the fire in you. “Isn’t that right? Humping me yourself when you’ve already been filled by Overhaul.” A hand grabs at your breast painfully, nails imbedding into the soft fat, the pebbled nipple pressing into the palm. You pant under him, eyes growing hazy and your hand slowing it’s momentum, you call his name under your breath, begging for more. “Panting like a whore. So hungry for cock but wishing to starve yourself before you would even admit it.” A hand cradles your face and a thumb lays flat on your tongue. You close your mouth and your tongue swirls around the digit, eyes slowly closing. “The mother of our child is going to be nothing more than a cock-hungry slut.” And with those words, his thrusts grow sloppy, skin smacking skin as he reaches his high, filling you once more with seed, never once stilling and with a harsh kiss against your lips, you reach your own climax. Hari bites your bottom lip and you look at him with a pitiful look and his moans are breathy, panting under his breath, deep and guttural, monstrous as gray eyes that hold a storm stare into yours.
Between your moans, you tell him your praise. “Thank you Hari,” you cry. “Thank you,” you repeat like a mantra, saying it as if it’s the only thing keeping you sane. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
He pulls away and you can feel the seed leak out. Hands are quick to grab your ankles and hold your legs up. Your belly swells, filled with nothing but creamy discharge, warm and holding life, something so deprived and horrendous that you wish to focus on nothing but hazy after-feelings, curving a hand over your belly and true to Kai’s words, fingers entering your abused cunt and pushing the semen further into you, a mixture of their names on your tongue as mouths cover your breasts.
#chisaki x reader#kai chisaki#kai chisaki imagine#kai chisaki x reader#chisaki kai x reader#chisaki kai headcanons#overhaul x reader#bnha overhaul#yandere overhaul#chrono and overhaul are next#chronostasis x reader#chronostasis imagine#yandere chronostasis#hari kurono x reader#hari kurono headcanons#tw noncon#i love them both#kurono doesnt get enough love#i was tagged in a thing about writers for him and i got really happy#it feels weird being known outside of like#idk this little thing we all have going on#i love yall#hope yall enjoyed it!
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WIP Wednesday
It’s Wednesday?! *scoffs* Preposterous!
Thank you @noire-pandora and @rosella-writes for the tags! I send you hugs and flowers and LOVE! >:3
Seriously though, this week has felt long to me, as have the last several weeks to be exact, and despite those long, long days, I haven’t really been able to write beyond this ongoing monster of a ‘short’ story. I wouldn’t really say I have writer’s block. I have ideas, I can write little bits and pieces, but I lose momentum from a lack of energy. *shrugs* If anything, I’m treating this story as an exercise to help me cement some of Fane’s inner workings and practice more intimate events. *waggles eyebrows*
So! Have a bit of a long snippet of Solas and Fane being sappy. They’re so fucking sappy, I swear. No shame.
“...What I’m trying to say is, titles have no bearing if you don’t let them. It’s easier said than done, I know, and that’s why I constantly need the reaffirmation of my name. The spiral is deep, and one syllable is all it takes to slow the fall.” Another sigh, this one far heavier, far more aged. “I know what it means, what it feels to have your identity shredded to ribbons, Solas. I know that so much it hurts. And that’s why I’ll say two syllables for you, so you don’t forget the first title; yourself.”, he stated, tone serious, but warm. “And no matter the other artificial titles, the good and the bad, you are you. Furthermore, you are my sky. Endless. Enduring. Unbending. Eternal. You were all of that to me before you were Fen’harel, or even Solas, or anything else. It may be just another title, but I hope, I hope, it’s one that matters to you because a sky matters more than anything to a dragon. Anything, and I won’t let the expanse that is you be taken from me as surely as the actual sky has been.”
Solas blinked at that waterfall of tender words, entranced by the look of earnestness on Fane’s ivory, but inked visage, the faded green lines almost seeming transparent due to how the setting sun filtering into their quarters bathed them in gold. He was lost, he was reeling, he was grappling between wanting to argue and wanting to relinquish his own stubbornness before letting out an airy laugh, shaking his head as the latter won out. How much more could his heart take before it burst? Such devotion, such pure, unwavering devotion was meant for better people than he, and yet, he couldn’t balk at it, usher it away. It would seem he was not the only one to have come so far.
“...I do not deserve that. I do not deserve such a...christening as that.”, he said, despite his thoughts. He may have come far, but some habits were hard to break. “It baffles me how you can be so certain that your feelings will not change when you know what is to come, when you know what I will be called upon to do.”
“We, Solas. You’re not alone anymore because I won’t let you be alone. No amount of words or deeds will change that either. You know that.”, Fane said, voice harsh, deep, but caring in its timbre.
Solas chuckled quietly. “I know that you are stubborn. Almost infuriatingly so.”, he tried to joke and it had a bit of the desired effect as Fane rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“You walked into my domain centuries ago, elf.”, Fane growled, but it held no disgust or anger. “You poked a dragon and earned its heart, so suffer.”
Solas couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at that. “I suppose I have no choice in the matter?”, he asked, but he felt lighter, calmer. How easily the dread and the ice melted away. How such a thing could happen was beyond him, but he would be lying if he said that he despised this heat, this warmth of souls.
Fane smirked. “None at all.”, he retorted casually before leaning in to nudge at one of Solas’ cheeks, growl slipping into a quiet, but deep purr as their eyes connected, gazed into each other’s sunlit souls. “So, let me show you how I can be so certain, how you can be so deserving of what I feel.”, he said next within a heartbeat, eager, but even harsher with conviction before it dropped to a baritone whisper. “Let me show you how much I love you, Solas.”
Solas barely had time to fully process those tender words before Fane took all thought away, lips connecting with his own, warm and velvet, but somehow cool to the touch. The gentle suddenness of that connection had him startling a bit, so unused to the reserved man before him to be the one to initiate, but he relaxed soon enough, eyes falling shut and allowing tenderness and certainty to soak into him.
Their lips moved slowly, languidly, but there was an ember to be awoken in their movements, to be sparked and set ablaze. However, there was no rush, no hurry to meet that bonfire. There was only gentle tending as one of Fane’s hands came up to loosely grip his jaw, tilting it just so to dive in deeper, etching his message of affirmation with tender kissing and soft, cool huffs through his nose. The other was busy kneading into one of his hips, a sturdy arm wrapped around to keep them close together. Solas weaved both of his hands into Fane’s head of slightly messy hair, drawing him closer, deeper into a spiral bliss, and humming deep in his chest as a velvet sweep of his dragon’s tongue against his bottom lip had his mind growing foggy.
However, despite the fog of his mind, Solas kept his mouth shut, halting his movements of the kiss, and smirked against Fane’s lips when a resounding growl sounded. His dragon should know good things came to those who waited.
...Or rather, continued to push. He wanted to see how heavy a dragon’s passion could be, but first things first.
Solas pulled away a bit and smirked more when Fane attempted to chase, curling his fingers in snowy strands to keep him still. Another, deeper growl left those enticing lips at that, nearly making him let go and give in from his made his whole tremble with desire, but he remained steadfast, gazing calmly into smoldering, gold-emerald orbs with a hum.
“You may growl all you wish, ma’isenatha, but I will not relent that easily.” He chuckled softly when Fane almost appeared to be pouting. His heart truly could not take much more of this endearing, stubborn man. “Even so, you are becoming a force to be reckoned with. It won’t be long until I do relent to your will.”, he purred, chuckling a bit when Fane’s visage turned pink yet again from his praise, pout turning into a slight grimace of sheepishness. “Before that, however, I wish to continue where we left off, but you stated the endeavor of mindful connection tires you out. Extremely. Will it do so in this case?”, he asked, common concern threatening to ruin the moment and making his smile falter. He wanted to let the mood take the reins, but his dragon’s comfort came first and foremost.
Always.
Fane shrugged, clearing his throat of embarrassment and his own momentary excitement. “In the past, yeah, but that’s because I would try and force the link. Since I can’t even do that anymore, it’s not so terrible.”, he stated simply, leaning in to nuzzle just below Solas’ ear slowly. “It’s no different than sex, to be fair. Intense, and then an afterglow. I’ll feel tired afterwards, but not bone achingly so.” A growling purr, a mixture of thunder and a babbling creek followed after those words, housing more. “Other...actions will make that happen. We’ll make sure of that.”
Solas hummed contentedly at the nuzzle, feeling how his chest began to quicken in its breaths at the heated words. “Mm, indeed we will.”, he murmured, a warmth able to be detected along his neck, cheeks, and ears. He was blushing. Lovely. It always threw him off when Fane would utter seduction. “But, I am curious as to how this ability of yours replicates sex.”
It was Solas’ turn to be pleasantly pleased with himself as Fane’s face flushed, pink shifting deeper to where his freckles were washed out and eyes were a titillating shade of ochre. Two could utter seduction, and after Halamshiral, he had pinpointed that Fane nearly dissolved if the word ‘sex’ was uttered from his lips. A dragon’s beauty had many layers, and while they were rare to be witnessed, his dragon was an open book during such carnal pursuits. The memory of the few times they had engaged physically and deeply nearly had Solas crumbling from shudders and soft pants, but the way Fane was now kissing just under his ear, face still flushed, but more from excitement now than a flustered disposition, was doing that also. How easily the mask fell and shattered from just a brush of lips, a glint of gold as two-toned orbs glanced up at him, a roll of thunder housed in a body so different, but so very much the same.
How easily the game could be tilted towards the other at any given moment.
“It’s a dance of thoughts, a waltz of wills.” The Elvhen dragon halted his kisses to whisper against the sensitive skin below his ear, breathless and husky, before giving it a firmer kiss. “You felt it after our sparring match, and that was just a dying connection - whisper of an afterglow. Rage had drowned out most of the euphoric intensity. But here, with us so close to each other, calm and willing...”, he trailed off, pulling back to level Solas with a solid amber gaze, abilities flaring to life with the emotions swarming around them. “...you’ll feel how deep the line runs, and so will I. After all, what’s more revealing and intimate than piercing each other’s thoughts? The connection of bodies is simple, but the mind... That’s more complicated and all creatures yearn for the depth of understanding.”
Solas let out an airy sigh, reaching up with a hand to stroke a deeply flushed cheek of freckles, ink and ivory. “So, it is a combination of thoughts, a glimpse into the inner when the outer offers no clear answer.”, he said, Fane responding with a tiny nod and pleased smirk due to being understood. “Is it like that if you were to connect with others, or..?”, he asked, a question born of more curiosity, not jealousy. He knew better than to harbor that type of nasty feeling with Fane. Devotion ran deep, as deep as the scar upon his heart’s face as well the scars upon his body. He was just once again fascinated to hear these thoughts and complexities of a being he had only been able to speculate on.
Fane shook his head, laying another kiss against his neck. “No. Most people’s minds don’t bend, their emotions locked up in fear and their minds cordoned off in their own ways. Mages, especially those like you, are easier to link up with, though.”, he murmured against the skin before running the flat of his tongue along his pulse.
Solas let out a quiet gasp, clawing at a broad shoulder as the wet and warm sensation of Fane’s tongue nearly had him melting. That action always made him react violently, and his dragon knew it, chuckling against the column before continuing.
“...Your emotions are potent, despite what you want people to believe. They’re attuned to being flexible and it was why during the duel I could begin the link. You were already reaching out, so I...exploited it.”, Fane admitted with a flash of shame in his eyes before sighing. “But, the sensation we’re about to experience is..” He pulled away from his neck slowly to practically gaze at him with a blazing smolder. “...only available when love is at the forefront. Your mind is willing before it even knows. You want me to enter. You want to share in the pain, the sorrow, the madness, and the passion, and I want you to, too. So, you allow me in. It’s an act of trust, and there is no one, other than maybe my sister, who I trust more than I trust you. And hopefully, you feel the same in regards to me.” A bit of uncertainty shuffled into dual colored eyes and a wry smirk, but they both dispersed as Fane shook his head a bit. “So again, no. It’s not the same for anyone else and it never will be.”
Solas stared at the man before him with slightly wide eyes before a tender smile graced his lips. Leave it to his dragon to word such a serious matter so affectionately, so beautifully. Sometimes, it was hard to see anything but the beautiful creature he had met so long ago when such things were uttered.
It was easy to forget how much suffering and sorrow had laced a mind with crimson poison.
Despite those weighty thoughts, Solas brought his hands up to cup Fane’s face once again, stroking his cheekbones reverently as they gazed into each other. Amber orbs shone slightly from both the slowly descending sun just outside and abilities that were slowly regaining their full power with time, observing him with so much silent love that it made his heart squeeze and a small, warm smile form on his face.
“Ar lath ma.”, Solas said, smiling more when the words of affection had Fane’s eyes darting away sheepishly, but there was a tiny smile upon his own lips. “And I do trust you as you trust me. Implicitly. Trust is a dangerous gambit, but in this instance, I will roll the dice. For you have already bet enough, my dragon.”, he whispered out tenderly before leaning to seal their lips together again gently, wishing to connect physically as well as mentally and emotionally.
Yes, a connection. That is what he deeply yearned for. To understand and to be understood. To bond and be bound to in turn. To know every inch of the one who had seen him at his lowest and greatest, who worshiped him as the sky and nothing of the past that had thus far defined him.
A bit lengthy, but that’s what I’m good at! >:D I just like words. Woooords~ :D
Tagging (*sends cookies* :3): @oxygenforthewicked @little-lightning-lavellan @dungeons-and-dragon-age @the-dreadful-canine @varric-tethras-editor @drag-on-age @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @dreadfutures @whataboutbugs and anyone else that’d like to share their endeavors! :D
#wip wednesday#oc: fane lavellan#solavellan#solas#dragon age#my writing#fane is a chatty chatty dragon in this short story XD#he's either deathly silent or a mess of profound words#he confuses himself sometimes *pikachu face*#solas enjoys it tho :3#*is bonked with the bonk stick*#smut will not elude me forever! *shakes fist*
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White Lies (Pt. 11 of 21)
Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader
Word count: 3 K
Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.
But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.
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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}
{John Wick Masterlist}
×
Guilt
The first feeling to wash over him when he opens his eyes is bliss. Pure, and utter bliss, a kind of happiness he didn't even know existed. Seeing (Y/N) peacefully sleeping on his chest is more than he deserves... And that's when it kicks in, and the joy is corrupted, overcome by guilt.
He can't believe what he did. He betrayed her on a whole other level. This isn't fair to her, not when she believes they're married. He's too buried in this lie, and last night, he did the only thing he never thought he'd do.
But how could he not? He's in love with her, he wants to be the father of her child, and there are times, and they come more often every passing day, that he's completely overcome by the fake life he's living. There are moments where Keanu is her husband. The lines are so blurry right now that he can't separate things. He can't tell the difference anymore.
Running a hand through his hair, looking at the ceiling, he smiles as she moves a little in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, a warm hand on his bare chest. (Y/N) is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. And everything drives him in. Her voice, her smile, her laughter. The way she walks, the way she talks to her unborn child when she thinks he's not listening.
He tried. He really did, but look how much he failed.
All this had an expiration date. And in the very beginning, he couldn't wait for that day. When she would remember and would go on with her life, picking it up where she left it, and forget about him. But with time, things changed. And now, he knows he can keep this up forever. (Y/N) won't remember, and Keanu can make this real. Fake the papers, he knows people who could do it. She'd be his wife.
But his love is too strong to do such a thing. He can't bring himself to do this. He has to tell her, everything. The lie, the reason, and explain it wasn't his idea. He also needs to tell her about his feelings, because they're the only real thing in this mess. And if the heavens listen to his prayers, if some kind of miracle happens, maybe, just maybe, she'd still love him. Marry him, for real this time.
Keanu could only hope. The pregnancy is not at risk anymore, and despite the doctors saying he should still keep the act, Dr. Harris assured him (Y/N) is strong enough now. And he has to tell her. And so he will. He just needs some time away from all this, away from this place, to enjoy this while he still can because he knows how insane it is. That the chances are she'll go to Argentina with her mother-in-law, and he'll never see her again. And if that really happens, he won't blame her.
Because after everything he did, for taking her as if she was his last night, he doesn't deserve this bliss. But he wants it, and he can't bring himself to end this without some more time with her. Something he will remember and cherish for the rest of this life if this is bound to break.
The morning light is what welcomes you back to consciousness. Closing your eyes tight before opening them up, you take a deep breath. The air is cold, you can feel it on your bare shoulders, but the warmth coming from Keanu keeps you from complaining. The first thing you remember is what happened last night, and your cheeks go red. Smiling a little, you softly caress Keanu's chest with your thumb, not sure if he's awake yet.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He says, and your smile only gets brighter. You love the pet name.
“Morning.” Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you place a kiss on his chest, right on his heart, then on his collarbone before finally reaching his lips. “Did you sleep well?” The question was supposed to be simple, but the smirk comes from somewhere inside you and you're sure it just changed the intonation of the thing.
“Very well.” He mutters, a hand coming to caress your cheek. Keanu sounds weird, a weight on his voice.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you let yourself sink back to bed, lying beside him. “Did I... Did I do something wrong last night?” You can't help but ask, the euphoria vanishing quickly as you try to understand why he seems so... Sad.
“Of course not.” Turning on his side and encircling your waist with a strong arm, pulling you closer, he shakes his head lightly. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”
“Then what's wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Everything is so perfect that it looks like a dream.” As he speaks, you move closer, feeling as his hand rubs the small of your back.
“Uhm... I think–” The doorbell cuts you off. “Who could that be?” It sounds like a whine.
“Lucia.”
“What?” Moving away from him, you sit up. “What is she doing here?”
“She came to visit you.”
“Oh...” Who could blame you for forgetting she was coming today? You're not a fan of her, and what's going on here is far better. “Can't we just–” The cold air on your torso makes you pull the sheets to shield your body, trying really hard not to let Keanu notice how red you must be. “Can't we just pretend we're not here and stay the whole day in bed?” You're not even done speaking when the doorbells rings again.
“She already dislikes me, if you don't show up, it'll make it even worse.” Sitting up, he pulls you into a kiss. “I'll dress up and open the door for her. Go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat.”
“Alright.” Sighing, you purposely climb past him to get off the bed. Keanu gives you a look, that you choose to ignore, pulling the sheets with you as you move to the bathroom.
“One more thing.” He calls out, right before you close the bathroom door shut.
“What?”
“You don't need to cover up. You're beautiful.”
Moving to the side so the door will hide your face, you bite your lip. “Thanks, babe.” You manage to push out, closing the door.
Once you're done washing yourself, you put your hair up on a ponytail and a light blue dress. Taking one of Keanu's hoodies to protect you from the coat, you move downstairs, and the only reason why you're smiling is because you smell of bacon. It was the first breakfast Keanu made you, and it feels kinda nostalgic. It is one of the oldest memories you have.
“(Y/N),” Lucia calls as you're making your way to the kitchen. Keanu looks over his shoulder, and you give him a forced smile before turning on your heels and moving to the living room. “I missed you so much!” Lucia pulls you into a hug.
“Hi, Lucia. How's everything?” You don't like Lucia. And Lucia doesn't like your husband. And Keanu, being a gentleman, won't admit he can't stand her, but you know that's how he feels.
“I'm great. Tell me about you.” You both move to the couch, taking a seat. “How's the baby? Have you come up with a name yet?”
“We're still thinking... But we agreed on not telling people until we know for sure.” Deciding to just let it out before she asks, you try not to let her notice you feel a little uncomfortable when she touches your belly.
“Have you... Have you considered Daniel?” Lucia asks, her voice breaking a little. Shrugging your shoulders, you shake your head no. “D-doesn't this name mean anything to you?”
Obviously not. But you won't be a bitch about it. “No, it doesn't.”
“Alright.” She mumbles, clearing her throat. “So, how's this little one?”
“He's great.” You say, a hand coming to your belly.
“Or she,” Keanu adds, and you roll your eyes.
“Quit spying on me, babe.” You raise your voice, and there's only a low giggle in response.
“Is he spying on you?” Despite the clear joking tone you had, Lucia sounds... Genuinely worried.
Chuckling at her expression, you sigh. “We're just joking around, Lucia.”
“Honey...” She takes both your hands on hers, as she does right before telling you how you can trust her if Keanu does anything. It's quite tiring, actually. She can't seem to understand he's a good person. Maybe it's the age thing... But that's not her business.
“I know what you'll say, Mrs. Davis, and I assure you there's nothing to worry about. Keanu is a gentleman, he hasn't pushed me into anything.” You don't want to talk to her about that, but you don't have a choice. Every time this happens, you just hope to say the right thing to make her let it go. “Everything we've done was because I was ready.”
“What do you mean by everything you've done?” Her tone changes suddenly, a lot harsher than before, and her hands squeeze yours.
You weren't talking about that... And you didn't think that was exactly where her mind would float too. “Mrs. Davis, this is between me and Keanu.”
She giggles, fake and loud, and in a sudden motion, Lucia gets up, walking fast to the kitchen. “What did you do to her?” She's already yelling when you finally reach the kitchen, a finger on Keanu's face.
“Mrs. Davis, I–” He starts, but you won't let him do this. Lucia was your mother's ‘friend’, or so she says, and you won't let her put Keanu in this position.
“What do you think you're doing?” Moving to stand between him and Lucia, you raise her voice above hers. “What gives you the right to come to my house, put your nose in my life, and yell at my husband?” Being rude wasn't the intention, but you're suddenly angry. Blame it on the hormones, blame it on the fact that you don't like Lucia at all, or on the fact that she ruined a perfectly good morning.
“Am I supposed to smile and nod when you go around letting him have you?” Her disgusted tone takes you by surprise. Why is she talking like this? What's wrong with this woman?
“My private life is not your business, and if you haven't been paying attention, Keanu is my husband.” Stepping forward, you stare into her eyes. “And I won't have you talking like this.”
Lucia laughs, pacing around a little, a hand covering her mouth as if you just told a joke.
“This man is not–”
“That's enough.” Keanu suddenly shouts, and it startles both of you. You never heard him yelling, and that's completely new. “I won't let you speak like that in my house. I know you're important to (Y/N), but the only thing I won't allow is you ruining her progress. If you keep this up, I'll have to let her doctor know about your behavior around his patient.”
After his thunder voice is gone, you're left in silence. Deep, uncomfortable, tense silence. Lucia seems to be broken though, her face dropped, and both her arms rest on the sides of her body. “I think you should leave now, Mrs. Davis.” You say in a low voice.
She nods, eyes on Keanu. “You'll pay for what you're doing.” Is the last thing she says before storming away, taking her purse and leaving the house, pulling the front door so violently you wonder if she broke something.
Running a hand through your hair, you take a deep breath, turning at Keanu. “What the hell was that?” You mutter, still trying to understand that just happened.
“Are you alright?” He comes closer, and you immediately collapse on his chest.
“I'm alright. She's a bitch.”
“Don't think about it. Let's eat.”
Nodding, you wash yesterday's dishes as he finishes breakfast, and you both sit down to eat. Power is back, thankfully, so you decide to watch some TV as he showers. Laura calls, and you invite her over for dinner. Keanu will have a co-worker, so you'll just need to add another plate. And, after all this, you need to talk to someone.
You're skipping through the channels when Keanu comes back downstairs, and when he settles down next to you, you immediately snuggle closer, until you're pretty much lying down, and you're the little spoon, back pressed against his chest.
“I invited Laura for dinner.” You tell him, still looking for something to watch.
“Are you planning on setting her up with Robert?”
“Is Robert single?” You didn't have this in mind, but now you do.
“He is.”
“Then I'm setting her up with Robert.” You quickly make your mind, carefully turning around on the couch so you're facing Keanu. “I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't think Lucia would explode like that.”
“It's alright, beautiful.” He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I was thinking... We should take a trip. Two weeks and only if your doctors say it's alright, of course. Just so we could stay away from all this for a while.”
Smiling, you peck his lips. “I'd love that. Could we go to the beach?”
“Wherever you want, sweetheart.”
“Will it... Will it be like a second honeymoon?” You can't remember the first, but you figure it's no good to bring this up now.
Keanu giggles, caressing your chin with his thumb and index finger. “Anything you want.”
“Well, I'll need a new bikini because these two won't feet on the one I have.” You gesture at your breasts, still growing a little. “I could call Laura and we could go shopping.”
“Let me talk to the doctors first. Because there's no way I'm taking you away if they think it will be dangerous.” Keanu reminds you, raising an eyebrow.
“Alright, sir.” Moving on the couch, you start climbing on him, until you're straddling his hips. “But one day I'll be one hundred percent fine. And this won't be a problem anymore.”
“Of course.”
“So... Did you lock the front door?” You ask, placing both your hands on his chest.
“I did. Why?” When you don't answer, but just smiles and sits up, arms around your waist as he captures your lips on a kiss.
• • •
Laura has a perplexed expression on her face as you tell about Lucia. You don't mean to gossip, but Laura is pretty much your best friend, and you need someone from outside to help you understand what the hell happened. Seated on the downstairs balcony, you cross your arms, leg bouncing as you let out the whole story.
“That's crazy.” Laura bursts out. “I get it that you're important to her and everything, but you're an adult, even though you lost your memory. And you have the right to make your own decisions.”
“Thank you.” You breathe out, throwing a hand in the air. “She snapped out of nowhere. And the way she spoke to Keanu? God, I almost considered slapping her in the face.” This makes you giggle, and so does Laura.
“Look, I was... Quite unsure of this in the beginning. But I wanted you to figure things out on your own, and let you know I was there if something happened.” That's true. Laura is always around, and, if anything backfired, if something bad happened between you and Keanu, she'd be the first person you'd call for help. “And with time, I saw that you were doing fine. And I know you love him, and he loves you. I'm sure because I spoke to him myself.” With a sassy smile, she leans back, resting against the chair.
“You did what?”
“I spoke to him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing matters to me. The age difference, the memory loss, it doesn't matter. The important thing is the feeling. So yes, I called him and had a long conversation about you, and I'm convinced that man in there loves you more than anything. You and this baby.”
Laura sounds so damn sure it brings tears to your eyes. Covering your face with both hands, you start crying. “Stupid hormones!” You exclaim, body shaking with the sobs.
“Oh, (Y/N).” She gets up and hugs you, bending down a little. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”
“It's from happiness, so don't worry.” Calming down, you take a deep breath as she pulls a nearby chair and sits next to you. “Anyway... I'm setting you up with Robert tonight. Keanu's friend and co-worker.” You mutter, wiping the tears away. “So let me know if you like him or not, alright?”
“Alright.” She agrees with an eye roll.
Despite having your mind floating to two different things: you and Keanu, and Lucia's outburst, you manage to enjoy dinner. Robert is kind, and you do think this whole thing with him and Laura could work out.
But in the next days, what you really want to know it about the trip. Things have been getting even better between you and Keanu, you're growing a lot closer now that you're both living like a married couple. And going somewhere else with him would be absolutely amazing. At first, Dr. Wright says it's alright, but some exams will be needed to see if it would be safe. Dr. Harris on the other hand said that you're ready. Your mind is ready, and you hope with all your heart that your body is too.
It takes too many days for Dr. Wright and the others to finally allow you to go. But only for two weeks, and whatever you'll be staying, it has to be near a hospital, just in case. Keanu said something about having a helicopter ready to take you back to New York if something happens, but you don't want to believe he'd do such a thing.
But when you're getting inside the plane, heading to Miami, you're cheerful. You're determined to make this trip amazing, for both of you. This is a mark, a rite of passage. From this day on, you'll forget what happened, you'll forget that you lost something. You can either suffer for the rest of your life for everything you lost or enjoy what you have. And you'll enjoy it because what you have right now is wonderful.
×
@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303
#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves imagine#keanu reeves fanfiction#keanu reeves fanfic#keanu reeves#imagine keanu reeves#john wick fanfic#john wick imagine#john wick fanfiction#john wick x reader
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i need some angst... can you do headcanons for asa, jesse and erron where they genuinely care about their s/o bur in a fit of rage hurt or even kill her and the aftermath? thanks!
Haven’t written angst in a long time, so you will have to excuse me if I got a little rusty around the edges. Also didn’t know how to put this into headcanons and decided to write little scenarios. I think genuine care has a different meaning to these guys; more like an obsessive need to control their s/o if I can say so.
Warning: The following scenarios involve toxic relationships and sort of abuse. BEWARE.
‘Baby, I’m blind.’ - Anonymous
Slashers Angst Scenarios with their s/o
The Collector
Asa was known to be a quiet, reserved, and perhaps anti-social man, never letting himself be open to the eyes of society; just being a regular guy in the eyes of people was enough for him, but you knew him better. You knew he had emotions under that thick hard skin, emotions that he showed to you from time to time, but alas he showed them, which was enough to know you were special to him.
With the bad full of emotions also came the negative ones, ones that resembled his other persona, the Collector and you knew better than to interfere yourself when he was his other-self. You never questioned his other life behind the dirty and thick walls of the hotel. You just accepted him as a whole; good and bad.
It was no surprise that he had a habit to come home late at night, sometimes disappearing for days, it came with the blessing of having double lives, but the shock was when you saw him enter the house one night while you were getting ready to go to bed.
He was drenched from head to toe from the heavy rain outside, his mask in one gloved hand, showing his tired face, smeared a little from the black paint around his eyes.
"Asa?" you asked in a quiet whisper, a little worried by the look he gave you.
He was angry. By what? That you didn't know, but by the wounds on his shoulder and abdomen, you guessed he had a rough night with a collected.
Before you could say anything, he took long steps towards you, his nitrile covered hand grasping you by the neck, your eyes widening as you choked on your words. You knew how dangerous he was, but you always told yourself that he would never let his inner monster out on you.
"W-What are you doing?" you gasped out, your eyes locked on his black shiny ones, reading pure sadism in them.
"Have you told anyone?" he asked in a calm yet deadly voice.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, debating what he was implying. That you would snitch on him?
"I-I...I would never betray you." you replied in a shaky voice, trying to get as much air into your lungs as possible.
Asa gave you a look of suspicion, scowling at you, then like that, his hand left your body who slumped down on the floor by his feet, eyes looking up in submission, not daring to say anything else.
Just like that, he left to go upstairs, leaving you alone, then you heard the shower running.
It was the first time you saw him. Not Asa, but the Collector.
Chromeskull
You knew that Jesse was territorial and you accepted this fact from the moment you started your life as his, knowing he didn't do things by halves. Sometimes your habit of seeing the good in everyone could put you into some troubles and that came tonight as your back was flush against the wall of Jesse's study.
Your eyes, usually filled with joy and mischief were now filled with fear, fear of your fiance and future husband, who destroyed his study, throwing furniture across the walls opposite of you, breaking everything. His broad back turned towards you, heaving up and down as he contained his rage, ready to combust yet again as he turned to look over his shoulder at you, brown eye, blown wide as he took in your shaky form.
Slowly, he stalked towards you, and at that moment you knew what the piggies felt when Chromeskull was on the prowl. His hand slammed beside your head, making you jolt, feeling like tears would burst any moment from your eyes. His hand moved down the wall and back in front of you to sign.
'Are you cheating on me?'
The question made you gape at him, feeling betrayed that he would think of you that way.
"N-No. How could you think that?" you asked, wondering what made Jesse ask you something like that.
'I don't know. You were giving that man at the dinner party some sweet eyes.' he signed, lips pulled int a silent snarl.
"I-I was trying to be polite. I-I didn't want to embarrass you by acting rude." you tried to explain, gulping down.
'Still trying to act all innocent when we all know that you're just like the rest of the piggies. SLUT.'
"Don't fucking call me that!" your rebellious self dared to speak and in response, your cheek stung from the harsh slap of Jesse's hand, your gaze moving down, trying to blink the tears away, but his hand grasped your jaw in a tight grip, making you look up at him. His lips brushed against yours as he typed on the phone.
'You are nothing without me. I OWN you. Better get that through your thick skull, HONEY.'
The tears followed down your cheeks.
'And don't even think about divorcing me.'
His grip tightened at the last words his phone spoke, then like that he stormed out, leaving you alone in the darkness.
The Hacker
Normally, you weren't the jealous type, never had motives to be and you always hated these types of girlfriends that were jealous for childish reasons, but now? You started to understand why they always made a big deal.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking some wine, mostly to ease the tension you felt in your muscles and spine, your eyes on the door as it opened and your boyfriend entered, closing the door behind him and throwing the key cars of his Dodge Charger on the chest by the door, his masked face stopping on your form.
"Not sleeping?" he asked as he walked towards the fridge, pulling out a cold energy drink.
"How can I sleep when my boyfriend is not home and he comes at 3 in the morning?" you asked, and you heard how he sighed in exasperation behind the mask.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I was doing business." he said, tone getting to a harsher edge.
"Spending your time at brothels and nightclubs isn't work." you snarked back, only for him to pull down his mask and hoodie, running his hand through his spikey hair.
"Will you stop?" he asked, grey eyes looking at you, the bags under his eyes visible.
"Will you stop acting like an asshole?" you asked and in an instant, he was upon you, his hands trapping you against the kitchen counter.
"Watch your mouth. Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean I cannot fuck you up and trust me, doll. I will if you act like a stuck-up bitch with me." he growled, all your brave facade vanishing, reminding yourself who this man was and what he was capable of.
"Well?" he sarcastically asked, his hot breath hitting your face.
"I-I'm sorry...I-I was just worried." you said, lowering your gaze in submission.
He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he could shot the obedience into you very easily.
"Aww...You're worried about little ol' me?" he asked, licking his lips as he looked down at you, then you felt his lips on your forehead.
"Don't stand in my way and just be loyal to me as I am to you, and you won't have to worry about one thing." he muttered, then he moved away, walking towards his desk and computer screens.
You were left speechless, knowing that the moment you entered this relationship there was no way out.
#Laid to rest 2009#Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2#chromeskull#chromeskull x reader#jesse cromeans#jesse cromeans x reader#the collector 2009#the collection 2012#the collector#the collector x reader#Asa Emory#Asa Emory x reader#the hacker#the hacker x reader#cyber killer#cyber killer x reader#erron#Erron x Reader#slasher x reader#angst#horror movies
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Riding High
Ch14: True Perfection Has To Be Imperfect
Chapter Summary: Frank gets the keys to the new apartment and the renovations start. Everything seems to be going so well for them all, until Fliss gets some news that rocks the very foundations they’ve been building.
Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.
Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: As always, if you like and enjoy please comment and Re-Blog. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 13
It’s your time, it’s your day, it’s never too late, to change lanes.
Frank could tell something was off the minute he pulled onto the yard. The usual chatter that rang out was absent and there just seemed a general air about the place that he couldn't identify. But it wasn't long before he found out why.
"Fliss is on the floor!" Mary’s voice loud with worry as she pointed into the paddock. Frank glanced over as he shut the door to his truck and felt himself grow cold. He broke into a jog, heading towards the fence and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was moving.
“Wait here…” he instructed Mary before, with a flourish, he vaulted over the side of the paddock and jogged across the riding paddock.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Oh, hey Sailor!” Fliss grinned up at him, where she lay flat on her back, Thor led by her side, head on her thigh. “Just had a fall but everything’s working, just giving myself a minute to get my breath and what not.” “Nothing broken.” Joanne looked at Frank from where she knelt by Fliss, the reins to the big, black horse in her hands
Frank knelt down next to Fliss and looked at her as she reached out and gently ran her hand down his forearm. “How d’ya fall off?” “Oh Bronson got confused at the jump, was trying to dodge out to the right. I corrected him and he kind of took off, twisted mid-air and I got unseated.” she explained.
“It was a pretty good show of acrobatics.” Joanne nodded in agreement.
Thor gave a little whine and his head moved, his eyes looking up at Fliss who scratched his ear.
“I’m ok, mate.” she said softly. “I’m good.”
"This wouldn't happen on a boat ya know" Frank teased gently and she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow as she propped herself up on her elbows.
"Boats are boring...nothing like having a half tonne animal between your legs" she replied, causing him and Joanne to smirk.
“You’re terrible.” Joanne shook her head as Fliss simply grinned.
“Okay, I’m good to go." Fliss sat up fully. Frank got up off his knees and held out his hand, gently pulling her to her feet. She dusted herself off and then turned to take Bronson's reins off Joanne.
"Can you give me a leg up?" She asked and Frank felt his heart stop
"You cannot be serious!" He spluttered back.
"What?"
“You’re getting back on?”
“Yeah.” Fliss looked at Frank as if he was stupid “I’m not hurt, not really, just gonna ache like hell for a few days. It’s the same as riding a bike, you don’t stop if you fall off!” “It’s a little different to riding-“
“Besides,” she spoke over him, “he’ll be unsettled and if I don’t get on and end the session well it’s gonna be in his mind, and mine for that matter, for next time and it’ll just be a nightmare so…”
Frank knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead he held his hands up and backed away as Joanne boosted her up.
“What happened?” Mary asked as he reached the paddock fence she was now perched sideways on, her legs hanging either side.
“She fell off.” Frank answered simply. “She’s okay though. She’s back on.” They watched as Fliss gently walked the horse round before picking up trot, then canter and then turned him straight for the jump. Frank grimaced slightly but he needn’t have bothered, the horse cleared the fence and Fliss gently slowed him down, patting him.
“Fucking crazy.” Frank mumbled to himself, shaking his head.
Whilst Fliss wasn’t seriously injured, she was certainly feeling the effects later on that night. Frank had called Verity, despite Fliss’ protests that she was fine, who had dropped round to Frank’s with some painkillers that were slightly stronger than your average ones. Fliss had taken two before dinner and as a result had started feeling a little bit woozy and light headed, commenting to Frank that it felt like she’d been smoking something funny. After diverting Mary’s questions on what that meant, they’d watched a bit of TV until Fliss announced she was thirsty.
“I’ll get it.” Frank made to move but she stopped him.
“I’m fine.” she sat up with a grimace, grabbing at her notoriously bad shoulder.
“Baby, just-“ “Frank, stop it!” she said a little sternly. “I’ve fallen off more horses than you’ve had women.” “Wow.” he looked at her, and she snorted.
“I just mean it ain’t the first time and it sure as hell won’t be the last, kinda comes with the territory. I’m just gonna a bit bruised.”
“Fine” he relented, and she pushed herself up off the sofa and walked slowly into the kitchen.
A moment later he heard her groan “Fraaaaaaank.” “What?”
“The soda’s on the top shelf. I can’t stretch my arm.” “What’s that? You do need my help?” “Stop being a dick.” she shot back, and with a wink at Mary who was laughing, he stood up and headed into the kitchen.
Not long after that they all ended up heading to bed. Frank knew that tomorrow was going to be a long day as he was getting the keys to the new apartment in the morning and they were starting the work straight away, Bill already scheduled to come and help. He’d booked as much time as he dared off work over the next week, given that he hadn’t been working there all that long but thankfully his Team Leader had been very understanding and Bill had said he’d take over on the days Frank had to be in.
Fliss stretched out, hissing at the bite of pain that coursed through her side and shoulder, the noise she made caused Thor to immediately spring up on the bed, nuzzling his face into Fliss' causing her to wince a little as he basically led over her like a huge teddy bear.
"Careful, buddy." Frank gently chastised the dog, reaching over to scratch his ears. He knew the animal was incredibly tuned into Fliss’ feelings, as were Cap and Heidi, the two horses she owned. It was something that genuinely amazed him and, if he was honest, made him smile a lot.
"Stupid soft git." Fliss muttered fondly, as Thor lay his head on her chest, teetering on the edge of the mattress, precariously, until a few seconds later he rolled and toppled off causing them both to giggle. The German shepherd shook himself off, shot them a scathing look, before he headed to his bed and flopped down with a loud huff.
"He didn't like it when you were on the floor before." Frank said softly, as she moved tenderly to lay her head on his chest. His hand reached round to card through her hair and down the side of her neck.
"No he never has." Fliss said gently "Ever since I got him he's been like that. He would always be the one that would lay by me, lick my face after...." she trailed off, the sentence didn’t need completing. "He would growl something rotten at John when he started, but it was Loki that went for him in the end. That's why John killed him"
Frank stiffened, his hand stilling on the crown of her head, not quite sure he had heard right. "He killed your dog?" he repeated, questioningly.
"Yeah." Fliss swallowed. “He said he had bought him as a guard dog for the property not for me." She sniffed a little. "He poisoned him"
"Oh, Lissy, I..." Frank sighed and she gently tangled her hand in the hair on his chest.
"I know."
They lay still for a moment, her hand tracing shapes on his skin before she suddenly blurted out.
"How do you do it? How do you make being with you so fucking easy?"
"What?" Frank frowned.
"This...I mean...you're kind, gentle, smart, funny, considerate. You know I’d half convinced myself you were gonna be crap in the sack to compensate it all but..." she shook her head. "I don’t get it."
"You don't get it because you spent almost four years living with a cunt who treat you like shit" Frank said simply, anger flooding his system. “Lissy, I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m stubborn, opinionated, shit with words, I’m really untidy as you’ve noticed and, well, up until meeting you my longest relationship in the last ten years lasted for six months.” He shook his head. “All I do is treat you how you should be treated, with love and respect. Don’t put me on a fucking pedestal for being normal.”
She tilted her head and looked at him for a second, as Frank took a breath. That outburst had been a little uncalled for and harsher in tone than he’d meant, but he wanted her to understand that their relationship was normal. The way he treat her was normal. He was uncomfortable with this idea that she thought he was something special because he didn’t abuse her or hit her.
“I’m sorry I just…” he felt her stiffen besides him and he let out a soft sigh.
“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” He gently pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her hair, kissing her head “You’re worthy of everything I said as a bare minimum. It’s not me being some kind of saint.”
“Can I put you on a pedestal for being gorgeous?” she asked after a moment’s pause and Frank snorted, shaking his head. “Well you are.” She protested at his response. There was another pause, until she broke the silence once more. “I do get it you know. Maybe I do appreciate you more because you’re not like him but, is that so wrong?”
“I’m not saying that, we’re together, we should appreciate each other.” he pressed. “I’m just telling you I’m not flawless.” “I know that.” she shrugged “Neither of us are. But isn’t that what makes this so perfect? It is because it isn’t. Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without”
“Confucius.” Frank raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile on his face as she looked up at him once more. Her eyes flashed and she grinned at him “How very philosophical.”
She laughed “We’ll you’d know all about that, Professor.”
“Okay, here’s another one of his.” Frank grinned back. “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall…”
“See, I told you I was right to get back on Bronson.” she quipped and at that Frank laughed.
******
Fliss woke the next morning to Frank gently kissing her cheek, softly running his hand over her hair.
“Morning Sweetheart.” he placed a mug of coffee on the side as she blinked and looked at him “How you feeling?” “Fucking sore.” she groaned. “What time is it?” “Half eight. I just packed Mary off on the bus.” “Half eight?” she sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it and winced once more. “Fuck, my alarm”
“Yeah I turned it off. Think the last batch of painkillers you took at three am wiped you out.” he sat on the edge of the bed as she shuffled up. She made to reach for her drink and let out a little huff of pain so Frank stopped her and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll ease off when I start to move about.”
“Well, don’t rush about.” He instructed as she took a drink of her coffee, before he saw her face fall.
“Oh, shit. I have a lesson to give at ten in St Pete’s…” she frowned, and Frank could she she was starting to worry so he gently reached out, tucking her wild auburn locks behind her ear.
“Just chill.” He shushed her. “Joanne called before.” He nodded to her phone “I answered and told her I didn’t know if you were gonna be in but she said she’d open up and reschedule your morning appointments. Then you can see how you feel this afternoon.”
For a moment he thought she was going to flip out at him effectively making a decision like that for her but after a second or two pause she gave a grateful smile and sat back against the pillows.
“Thank you.”
“Take your time, your mom and dad will be here in a bit. Then we’re gonna get the keys and start on the apartment.” Fliss grinned as she took another drink of coffee.“You excited?” “Yeah, yeah I am.” He said, honestly. “Just wanna get it all started and then we can move in.” She smiled and he stood up. “Your mom’s bringing breakfast, said something about her boys not being able to work on an empty stomach.” He arched a brow. “Her boys?” Fliss smirked over her mug. “You really have got her wrapped around your finger.” He chuckled “Well what can I say, I’m a likeable guy…” “Hmmm you’re something I’ll give you that.” she quipped, and he laughed, placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back out of the room.
It wasn’t long before Fliss’ parents arrived and they ate breakfast, Verity fussing over Fliss who kept assuring her and her dad that they were fine. Once they’d eaten, Bill and Frank headed over to meet his new landlord and after he handed over the keys, they got to work. For their first task they shut the utilities off and ripped out the bathroom, which wasn’t too big a job seeing as half of the damned suite was smashed up anyway. Once that was done they moved into the living room and tossed out the tatty old furniture that had been left before doing their first run to the local dump. Then they moved onto ripping up the carpet in the living room.
“Shit!” Bill spluttered as a cloud of dust rose up from where they had wrenched the offending item free from the tacks. Frank blinked, backing up slightly, before he stood up, arm across his mouth. “Didn’t think it would be that bad.”
Bill rose to his feet and they both moved away, Frank picking up a bottle of water that was on the side and rinsing his face with it. He tossed it to Bill who did the same, the pair of them looking at one another before snorting a laugh each, and shaking their heads.
“And I thought this would be the easy bit.” Bill wiped his face. “Was less hassle ripping out the bathroom.”
It took them an hour or so to cut the carpet into easily manageable pieces, rip it up, and toss it into the back of their trucks. By now it was scorching outside, and also inside as the air con wasn’t on seeing as they had no power. This meant both men were dripping with sweat and Frank couldn’t remember ever feeling so damned warm or grubby in his entire life.
By lunch time they’d pretty much cleared the lot. Carpets, broken light fittings, broken kitchen doors and also the old washing machine. Grabbing another bottle of water, Frank stood outside the apartment, hand on his hips and smiled at Bill who gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Good job, son.” he nodded. “It’s a blank canvas now. Dave will be here soon with the new bathroom, shouldn’t take us too long to plumb it all in, connections are already there. We can start the tiling tomorrow.”
Frank smiled and grabbed his T-shirt at the bottom, lifting it up to wipe at his face and as he did so he heard a sharp wolf whistle. When he emerged from his shirt he grinned and looked at Fliss who was slowly walking towards them with Verity, Thor following behind, both women carried familiar paper bags.
Frank made his way over and she stopped, where as Verity carried on, quite tactfully towards Bill and Fliss grinned.
“Hey.” she greeted him as he leaned down to give her a kiss and she wrinkled her face. “Gross, you’re all filthy and sweaty and…” She trailed off, her eyes glinting as her voice dropped slightly and she ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder “Actually…” “Behave.” he raised his eyebrow at her.
“Don’t wanna.” she pouted.
He shook his head and nodded to the bag. “You bring me lunch, Honey?”
“You need to keep your strength up.” She winked. “Mom drove us to Subway.” “I love you Verity!” Frank called as he fished out his Turkey sub and she grinned at him.
The four of them settled down where they could, Fliss sitting on the steps, Frank by her feet on the lawn and Bill and Verity perched on the tail of Bill’s truck. They ate together, Fliss telling Frank she’d postponed her teaching now until Monday to allow herself time to heal a little, which he was secretly pleased about. It wasn’t long after they had finished lunch that the new bathroom turned up the women left them to it.
Frank and Bill worked well together and between the two of them they had it fit in little under two hours and Bill connected the water back up to test it. When it worked properly Frank gave a nod of satisfaction and smiled. The suite was an off white colour, nice and with a modern large bath. It might have been second hand but you couldn’t tell, and Frank liked it.
“Not bad for a day’s work.” Bill smiled. “The tiling shouldn’t take too long tomorrow and then, well, it’s just a case of decorating and a new carpet.” At that point the two men heard footsteps and looked up to see Mary bounding in, followed by Fliss and Verity.
“Hey Stack.” Frank greeted her as she looked around. “Whaddya think so far?” Mary nodded appreciatively. “Least it has a toilet.” The adults laughed and Frank nodded “Yeah, I mean we can move in now.” “What?” she frowned “There’s no carpet in the living room!”
“I was being sarcastic.” Frank replied and she narrowed her eyes at him.
“Roberta says sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”
“Well, she’d know.” he shrugged.
“Am I staying there tonight?” She questioned Frank.
“It’s up to you.” he replied “We’re not going out are we, Honey?”
Fliss shook her head “No way, I ache too much, but I was thinking we could BBQ maybe? All of us?” “Ooooh, yeah!” Mary nodded, agreeably “Then Roberta can come too.” Frank shrugged “Yeah, I’m ok with that.” “Mum, Dad?” Fliss asked.
Verity and Bill exchanged looks and Bill nodded. “I need to nip home and shower first but…” “No need.” Fliss shook her head. “We swung by and picked you a spare change up. You can shower at Frank’s.” “Oh can I?” Bill looked at her. She grinned back in response as Bill turned to Frank “That okay? You know, seeing as it’s your place, not hers.” Fliss stuck her tongue out at her father whilst Frank simply shrugged.
“She acts like she owns the damned place when she’s there anyway so it might as well be.” he teased and she glared at him, digging him in the ribs.
“Shut up”
*****
The next ten days consisted much in the same vein. Frank had to work on the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but Bill took over the painting for him, and then on the Friday, a week after they had started, they fit the new carpets. The Saturday they spent fixing on the new kitchen doors and plumbing in the washing machine and on Sunday morning Frank fit the final touches, screwing in the new light fittings and then it was done.
That afternoon, Frank and Fliss stood in the middle of the living room admiring the finished article. It smelt of new carpet and wet paint, a smell Frank had grown immune to having been breathing it in for god knows how long.
“It looks great.” Fliss smiled, taking the fresh, light grey walls, darker grey carpet which was complemented by the brushed steel modern light fittings.
“Yeah, not a bad job.” Frank grinned. “We can start moving the stuff over tomorrow.” At that point Mary barrelled in from the hallway and beamed “My room looks awesome, Fliss, come see!” She gushed. Fliss allowed Mary to pull her out of the living room and followed her down the hall to the room on the right. It was a good sized bedroom, and it was freshly painted in light blue, a colour Mary had chosen herself.
“Frank says I’m getting a new cabin bed soon with a desk underneath and I’m gonna put it against that wall.” She rambled on. “And on that wall I’m gonna stick my shells and there I’m gonna have my shelves for my books and a TV…” Frank leaned in the doorway watching as Mary pointed everything out to Fliss, his face curling into a smile. He’d never thought something so simple as having her own room would make the girl so damned happy.
“…and Fred can have his own basket, although he never sleeps in them anyway…” Mary was continuing and Fliss looked up and caught Frank’s eye. He smiled at her gently and she beamed back. “…and I can put my photos here…” Mary finished “What do you think?” “I think it sounds amazing, Stack.” Fliss said, smiling at her “I can’t wait to see it all finished.” “Okay.” Frank pushed himself up straight from the door frame “Let’s go grab your stuff Stack and head over to find out what V’s made for dinner.” “I hope it’s beef.” Mary said, skipping out “Her Sunday beef is the best.” “It’s chicken.” Fliss whispered as Frank laughed, dropping an arm round her shoulders as they made their way outside. He locked the door and they headed back to the apartment, Mary collecting her stuff. Once Frank had checked she had everything she needed he tossed it into the truck and turned to Fliss.
“I’ve been thinking.” he said, as Mary climbed into the seat.
“Sounds dangerous.” Frank rolled his eyes “I know we said we weren’t gonna move in together yet, but, well, how about you bring some stuff over once I’ve got all the bedroom furniture and then that way you don’t need to pack a bag when you come stay.” Fliss smiled at him. “A sensible suggestion.” she agreed, her arms sliding around his neck.
“It has been known.” He grinned, his hands dropping to her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. They both jumped as the horn on the truck sounded and Mary leaned across the seats.
“Come on, stop kissing, I’m hungry.” “How about we ditch her on the side of the road?” Frank spoke loudly to Fliss and Mary scoffed.
“Stop making empty threats, Frank.” she sing songed.
Frank looked at Fliss who burst out laughing “You have no idea how damned similar the pair of you are.” She smiled with a shake of her head. *******
It was almost a fortnight later when Mary casually told Frank she had reached her decision about Evelyn. It was a Friday and she had been at University for two classes that morning, and was heading to normal school for the rest of the afternoon. Part of the reason that Frank worked late on a Tuesday was so that he could be flexible when it came to things like this and could pop out for an hour or so to go and pick her up when he needed to.
He greeted her in the hallway as always and she slipped her little hand into his as they walked back outside and over to his truck. She glanced in the paper bag which contained her lunch he had bought her from the deli near the boat store, a treat he liked to get her every Friday now he could happily afford it without worrying and she grinned.
“Save it for when you get to School. Otherwise everyone else will be eating and you won’t.” She folded the top of the paper bag over and grinned at him as he eased his way up the freeway.
“You drive like an old lady.” she grinned and Frank took a deep breath, a smirk on his face. That was a comment Fliss had made to him on numerous occasions, one which he normally retorted back with some reference to her driving like a maniac.
“It's Florida. I'm blending in.” He said simply to Mary, smile still playing on his lips. She side-eyed him for a moment, in a way that made her look ridiculously like Diane, even though he knew, again, that was a habit she’d picked up from Fliss. Or Roberta for that matter. Frank had a feeling that as Mary grew up she was going to be a perfect candidate for the whole nature v nurture debate…
“I talked to Fliss last night.” Mary said.
“I know, you stole the phone off me when she called and ran off to your room.”
“Yeah, why didn’t she stay with us last night?” “It’s Thursday, she never stays on a Thursday. You know this. She had paper work to do.” Mary fell silent.
“What were you going to say?” Frank gently pressed her.
“Huh?” “You said you talked to Fliss. Was that all you wanted to tell me or…” “Oh, no.” Mary replied “I asked her about whether I should see Evelyn.”
Frank took a deep breath, his face remaining passive “Right, so what did she say?” “The same as you. That it was my decision and whatever I wanted everyone would understand and be okay with it and that no one would be mad…”
“Of course no one will be mad.” Frank looked at her. “Evelyn is your grandmother, and it’s your decision if you wanna see her. Not mine, not the courts, not anybody’s but yours. And no one, not even me, is gonna be upset about what you decide, you got that?” “I know. And I’ve made up my mind.” “Yeah?” She nodded “I want to see her.” “Okay.” Frank licked his lips. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how he felt about this but he meant what he said. It was up to Mary and at least now he would have some control over the access. “If you’re sure then I’ll call her on Monday and we’ll make some arrangements.” “Maybe she can come here, see our new place.” “Maybe.” Frank nodded, although he had a feeling that hell freezing over would be more likely.
There was a moment’s silence as both of them were lost in their own thoughts. Frank stole a glance at his niece as she sat looking out of the window, chewing her lip and he decided to move her away from the subject as he turned off the main road.
“How was school?”
“Fun.” Mary nodded. “Not like regular school fun. But interesting.”
Fun. Regular. Two words Frank had craved for Mary all her damned life, and it made him smile to hear her so full of life, so happy, so settled.
Mary’s attention flickered from him to the seat next to her and she moved her lunch bag to look at it.
“What is this book?” she asked, picking it up and flicking it open.
“Discourse on Method.” Frank said, giving her the title of his latest read “Rene Descartes.”
“What's it about?” she pressed.
“Existence.”
“Existence?”
“Yup. I think, therefore I am” he said, a small smile on his face.
“Well, of course you are. That's obvious.” Marry rolled her eyes and Frank supressed a snort. Everything was so logical in her little brain, there was an innocence to it all that he loved.
“I think about Fred, therefore, I am Fred.” she continued.
“Cogito ergo Fred?” Frank teased looking at her.
“He's a dude and he's a guy,” Mary grinned, “and he only has one eye.”
Frank let out a chuckle as Mary tipped her head back and continued in a loud, ridiculous voice.
“Fred! Fred! Fred! Freeeeddddyyyy, Fred, Fred!”
Frank laughed began to slow down, pulling up by the school.
“All right, here we are.” He glanced over and saw Mary was fiddling with her belt and opening the door. “Hey, wait till I come to a stop…” he started to protest.
“Then come to a stop already!” Without so much as a glance back she grabbed her lunch and shot over to the playground which was brimming with other kids. He watched, a small smile playing on his face as she made her way over, dropping her lunch to the floor and throwing herself into a game. Something that he would never have believed possible back in September when she’d first started. But here she was, almost seven months later, like she’d been there all her life. His attention flicked to Bonnie as the woman shot him a friendly wave and a nod, which he returned before he set off back to work before someone called the cops on him for sitting outside a school staring at a yard full of kids.
****
As he was winding up at work for the day, Jake called him, an impromptu guys night out was being organised for that night as Jake had a ‘pass out’, his words not Frank’s. Frank hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t planned anything with Fliss as such, but it was Friday, their night…
“Oh come on!” Jake snorted as Frank rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me Frank Adler is hesitating over a night out!”
“No, it’s not that…” Frank protested “We’ve just had a really busy fortnight and…” “Man you’re whipped. Already. What is this? Like month five and you’re already in the-”
“I’m not whipped, I just like spending time with my girl, what’s wrong with that?”
“Dude come on!”
“Okay, okay.” Frank sighed. “What time?” “Eight at Fergs, and if you don’t show I’m gonna come round your gaff and drag you out myself.”
Frank shook his head and cut the call before he dialled Fliss.
“Hey, Sailor.” She greeted. “I was just thinking about you.”
“About me or that thing I did to you on Wednesday night?” he grinned and she snorted.
“No, about you. Although now I’m thinking about that thing.”
Frank chuckled. “So what were you thinking about?”
“Oh, erm, tonight. Thought we could grab a pizza and head up to the marina for a walk, maybe grab a beer.”
“Erm, yeah.” He sighed. Shit.
“We don’t have to.” She responded, clearly reading his voice tone. “It was just an idea.”
“No, I do, I just….” He took a deep breath. “Well, Jake called, said the guys are going for beers and it’s been a while since we all got together so I was…” “Frank…” Fliss laughed softly “You don’t need to justify yourself. If you wanna go out, go out.” “You don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind?”
“Well, Fridays are kinda our night.”
“I know but, well it’s not as much of a big thing now Mary has her own room, we kinda get our own nights a bit more often.” “Ok, fair point.” he smiled and she laughed.
“Maybe I can wait for you at yours? I can go to Roberta’s for a little while with Mary.” “You don’t have to ask.” Frank smiled softly “You can stay whenever you want, you know that.”
“Well, that’s settled then.” she replied, before someone shouted to her and she retorted before coming back to Frank “Sorry baby, I gotta go but I’ll see you later.” “Ok, love you.” “You too…”
***** After Frank headed out, Fliss wandered down to Roberta’s with a bottle of wine and after more loud hairbrush-karaoke, Roberta had cracked open the Bourbon and the two women had sat on the stoop until just gone eleven when Fliss had headed back. Throwing on one of Frank’s T-shirts she crawled into the king sized bed (an excellent purchase decision that she had talked him into) and snuggled down into the new blankets (another excellent purchase decision), Thor jumping up and taking his position by her feet.
She can’t have been asleep long when she woke as Thor gave a low whine and jumped off the bed, nudging the door open and heading out into the hallway.
Then she heard a thud, followed by cursing.
“Shit. Who put that there?” She heard Frank groan, then he started laughing “Thor! Get down!”
There was more laughing, and protests which Fliss listened to for a moment, before she swung her legs out of bed and headed down the short hallway. She quickly checked the front door as she walked past to make sure he’d locked it behind him, and then headed into the living room to find Frank led on the floor as Thor basically jumped all over him, licking his face and wagging his tail.
“Some guard dog you are.” Frank laughed again as he attempted to push the dog off him.
“Good job you’re not a burglar then.” Fliss spoke, causing Frank to look up, grinning stupidly at her “Mind you, the amount of noise you’re making you’d be a pretty shit one…”
“Heeey…” he grinned, as Thor finally moved off him and he pushed himself to his feet. “There you are!”
“Here I am.” Fliss nodded, and she couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. He was beaming at her, a stark contrast to how John was when he used to come home drunk, but then that was Frank all over, a completely different person, and she knew that.
“There you are, my girl.” He stopped in front of her, his hands falling to her hips. “C’mere…”
“Ok, someone had a good night.” She grinned as he placed a sloppy kiss on her lips.
“Yeah, it was.” He nodded and then he suddenly looked around “So the bedroom moved.” he turned back to her and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s not where it usually is...”
“No, you moved.” She laughed. “You moved apartments, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded, before he looked down at her, taking in her bare legs “Is that my T-shirt?”
“Yes.” “Take it off, thief.” “Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Fliss patted his chest.
“Yeah?” He arched his eyebrow grinning.
“To sleep.”
“No sleep.” He pouted, dropping his head to gently nuzzle at her neck. “Wanna give you some lovin’...”
“Yeah and how are you gonna do that when you’re too drunk to take your pants off?” Fliss laughed as she led him down the hallway.
“You can take em off…” He said as he stopped in the bedroom, looking round.
“Oh I can, can I?” She asked as he kicked off his sneakers.
“Yes…” he nodded as he sat on the bed. “I’ll allow it.”
“You'll allow it?” Fliss deadpanned as he started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Eventually he gave up and reached back, grabbing it behind his neck and with a tug pulled it over his head, tossing it to the side. He reached out to Fliss, pulling her close to him, his arms wrapping around her back as he looked up at her.
“I will allow it, but only because I love you.”
“Ok so let me get this straight.” Fliss chuckled as she ran her hand through his hair. “You're gonna let me take your pants off because you love me?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“I'm so lucky…” She snorted
“Hey, I’m a catch…” Frank let go of her and flopped back on the bed.
“I never said otherwise.” she grinned, moving to take his belt off.
“Ah ha ha see, you do wanna get in my pants.” “I want to get you in bed, so help me out here hot-shot.” With a grin Frank raised his hips and she tugged down his jeans, dropping them by the side of the bed.
“Come on…” she patted the pillows and Frank shifted, moving the right way onto the bed and after a bit of a battle with the covers he’d settled himself down, one arm thrown over his head as he watched Fliss who gently turned off the lamp and settled down next to him. Shifting onto his side, his hand gently ran up her thigh, resting on her hip underneath his T-shirt.
“I love you.” He said softly, and she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.
“I love you too.” she smiled “Even when you’re being a drunken idiot.” “I’m not drunk.” “Course not.” “Okay, maybe just a little bit.” he conceded after a moment. “But I do love you.” “I believe you.”
“So much, you know what? One day, I’m gonna marry you.”
“Oh, are you?” Fliss asked, running her hand through his hair.
“Yup, and then we’re gonna make little Franks and Flisses and…” he stopped as Fliss’ laughter filled the room. “Why are you laughing?” he asked her, his tone indignant “You don’t wanna marry me and make babies?”
“Not after us being together for like less than 6 months.” she laughed.
“Well that’s just rude…” he mumbled, dropping his head forward so it fell to her chest.
He stayed still for a moment, mumbling something else as Fliss continued to run her hands through her hair, and it wasn’t long before his soft snores told her he was asleep. With a fond smile she dropped a kiss to his head and closed her eyes.
*****
Fliss took great delight the next morning in telling Frank exactly how much shit he’d been talking when he came home, including telling her that he wanted to marry her and make babies. He’d groaned and banged his head on the table as he sat nursing a coffee, instantly regretting that as his head was pounding as it was. Thankfully, Mary had gone with Fliss to the yard and spent most of the day there leaving him to suffer in peace, firing abuse to the Circle Of Trust What’s-app group, his only slight consolation being they all seemed to be suffering just as much as he was.
He collapsed into bed on the Saturday at just gone ten pm and slept straight through to eight the next morning when he was woken by Fliss softly kissing him awake. He knew what she wanted, and happily obliged and once they were both spent and slightly sweaty from a particularly energetic sex session, they both showered and after a breakfast of Waffles and fruit, spent the rest of the morning browsing the IKEA website for a bed for Mary. They then headed over to Bill and Verity’s for the usual dinner before they’d all collapsed in bed at Fliss’ after watching a film together.
Monday morning brought the usual routine, shower, breakfast, kiss Fliss goodbye, drop Mary at school, head to work, check the list of active jobs for the week, start one of said active jobs, pause for a mid-morning snack from the coffee shop, resume work. All standard stuff, so it was a little surprising when the routine of the day was broken.
“Frank?”
Frank popped his head up from the deck of the boat where he’d been working on the steering column and looked at Fliss who was stood in the open entrance to the workshop.
“Hey…” he smiled, “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but…”
Because he was, he was always happy to see her, he was simply surprised as they hadn’t arranged to meet for lunch like they sometimes did if she was teaching over this way. He stood up and reached for a cloth to wipe his hands on before he climbed down from the boat and as he noticed the look on her face he frowned.
“Baby, what’s the matter?”
“I err…I got a call and I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I just needed to see you and…”
“Hey, hey.” he soothed, his hands on her arms “Calm down.”
She took a deep breath as Frank glanced over to Paul, his co-worker and nodded his head to signal he was heading outside. Paul waved him away and Frank dropped an arm round Fliss’ shoulder and steered her outside into the sun and out of the view of everyone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her and she nodded, taking a deep breath. He could see she’d been crying and he searched her eyes with his own as she looked at him.
“I got a phone call…from the Victim Assistance Services.” Her eyes were wide “John’s been granted the right to a Parole hearing. They’ve set the date for 23rd May, six weeks.” Frank took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping calm despite the fact he could quite happily have kicked something there and then.
“I don’t know why I’m so shocked.” Fliss continued “I mean I always knew this would happen, but hearing that he’s finally got a date...” she looked at Frank “If he’s successful, then he could be out by the end of June and…”
“Honey, just because he’s been given the right to a hearing, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to get out.” “The woman on the phone said that there’s a better chance that it will be refused if I appeal. But if I want to do that then I’ll have to either go in person or do a written or recorded statement and I don’t know if I can…” A tear fell from her eye and Frank gently wrapped her arms around her, pulling her to him. “I stood in a courtroom last time, telling them exactly what he did to me, about how he beat me and degraded me, only to be told I that I was a liar, and that I liked it rough, that I egged him on and… I can’t….I can’t do that again Frank…”
She was rambling into his chest and he could do nothing but pull her close and drop a kiss to her head.
“No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna.” he pulled away slightly, cupping her face in her hands.
“They’re sending me a letter.” she said “Explaining my rights and stuff in more detail.” “Want me to call Greg?” He asked, a sudden inspiration coming to him. “I know he’s a Family lawyer now but he did do some time with this type of thing a while back, if you’re happy to speak to him I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help…”
“I don’t know if I can.” she sniffed. “I don’t know if want him knowing every detail, I mean even you don’t know it all…” “I know.” he agreed. “And you don’t have to tell him anything to start off with, just ask his advice.”
She sniffed gently, and looked at him. “I have to tell you don’t I?” She said softly, “All of it?”
Frank hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but if this was going the way it looked like it was going to go, he would find out sooner or later, and, as he looked at Fliss, he knew that no matter how hard it was, how shitty it was going to be to open up fully, she would need to do that herself to keep some control over the situation.
“You don’t have to do anything. But if you decide you want to, then I’ll listen.”
He dropped a kiss to her head and pulled her back to him, gently rocking her to-and-fro as he squinted out over the harbour.
**** Chapter 15
#riding high#frank adler#frank adler x ofc#frank adler x original female character#gifted#gifted fan fic
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motivation - f.andersen
“And.. he scores!” My face fell, and I tuned out the cheering from the jackets fans, my eyes focusing on Freddie and his boys as they slightly shook their heads. I chewed the tip of my thumb as I watched them skate off the ice, they were bound to be pissed, so close yet so far. Freddie caught a glimpse of me through the glass and his face was blank, normally even after a loss he can muster up some kind of smile, even for a split second, but this time it was nothing, not even a twitch.
I stood along side Stephanie in the wide hallway outside of the locker room, both of us looking up every time we heard movement. Of course, it was never who we wanted it to be, shockingly Auston was the first one out, walking straight over to his mom who was giving him that look. The one that says “don’t be too hard on yourself, mijo, you did good”, the type of look everyone here would be giving the team. Freddie always put on a tough exterior, but when we got home it could be a different story, he could get quite the attitude. “Awe, babe, you played amazing, alright?” Stephanie spoke wrapping her arms around Mitch’s neck as soon as she saw him. “Freddie.” I breathed out when he finally emerged, he gave me a quick hug and a peck to my forehead before I could say anything else. “Let’s just go.” He grumbled, I held back a sigh, knowing it was going to be a long night.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning a shade of white as we got stuck in this god awful snow filled traffic. I could see Freddie glance around me from the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t speak, as he hadn’t said anything else to me either yet, both of us wanting to get home. “Freddie?” I finally caved, seeing how the cars were at a nearly complete stand still. “What?” He snapped a little harsher than I think he intended, but he didn’t look away from his phone, god knows he was probably watching the tape, trying to figure out what he could’ve done better. “Don’t do that.” I sighed pointing to his phone, he clicked the screen off and put it in the cup holder, shooting me a look, “happy now.” He was acting childish. “You did great, okay? It was a long game, you still have another shot-“ “We shouldn’t need to still have another shot, Y/N! That’s the fucking problem, we should’ve already moved on to the next round.” He cut me off, his voice booming in the car. I rolled my eyes a little as I slowly inched along the road. The guys always set high expectations for themselves, and when they didn’t meet them, they got furious. “Baby, it’s best of five, you can still do this. That’s what you need to focus on.” I explained calmly, he didn’t look at me, only continued looking out the window, cringing when I nearly slid in the ice. “Do you want me to drive?” He asked, annoyance dripping from his tone. I bit my lip for a moment, “no, you’re acting like a child, so I don’t want you to drive like one.” I finally snapped back at him. I could see him analyzing the side of my face, something he does when he knows he’s upset me, “I didn’t-“ “Just wait until we get home, please, I don’t want to have an accident.” I cut him off, my knuckles once again turning white on the steering wheel.
I fiddled with the ring on my left hand as we stood in silence riding up the elevator, I could feel his eyes on me, he grabbed my hand, keeping me from messing with the ring, he always freaked out when I did that, thinking I would be having second thoughts on our engagement. I glanced up at him but he was looking straight ahead, still with that pissed off tension in his jaw. I sighed as the doors opened, walking out first, pulling him along. He unlocked the door for me, holding it open, he was silently trying to apologize for being snappy towards me. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you, you know that.” He spoke, and I nodded, stepping inside, kicking my shoes off as he shut the door. “Freddie, I understand that you’re going to be upset about losing a game, alright? It’s totally acceptable, but you go into this head space that’s not even healthy, you all played great, you saved so many shots tonight, I wish you could see that.” I explained, he watched me with hard eyes, nodding even if he didn’t want to admit it. “But, at the end of the night, I still let four shots in.” He pointed out and I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, I nodded silently, walking away from him and towards our bedroom, I could hear him padding along behind me. “That’s why I’m pissed.” He grumbled, disappearing into the bathroom, I watched him shut the door, harder than normal, I heard the shower turn on, I sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over. Thoughts running through my mind, once I heard him get in the shower, I stood to my feet and walked over to the dresser, digging out the gift I had been hiding from him, I was planning on waiting until after the first round of playoffs, but he needs a good pick me up now. I took the small white gift bag, peeking inside to triple check everything was in there. A baby sized Andersen jersey, and a onesie that said “a true fan begins in diapers” with the maple leaf logo beside it. I placed the bag on his pillow, leaving the room once I changed into my pajamas, I glanced back as I heard the shower shut off, suddenly feeling nervous. What if he wasn’t happy, what if he didn’t want this now, what if- “y/n?” He called and I immediately walked back into the room, he was standing in front of the bathroom door, hair still dripping, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I hadn’t realized my eyes were welled up until his face softened, “baby, are you crying?” He whispered, rushing over to me. I shook my head, wiping the water from my eyes before he could, “I didn’t mean to be-“ “No, no, it’s not that, well not entirely that.” I cut him off, laughing softly when his wet hair dripped onto my night shirt. “Fuck the game, you’re right, we’ve still got a shot, now what’s wrong?” He asked, concern covering his face. I smiled and simply pulled him in for a kiss, he didn’t complain, holding me steady by my hips as I had to stand on my tippy toes. “I love you.” I murmured once I leaned back, “I love you, now you’re scaring me.” He responded, I finally took a shaky breath and pointed to the gift on the bed. He glanced back and furrowed his eyebrows, “you got me a gift for losing?” He teased, pulling me along with him to the bed.
“It’s not because you lost, I think it’s much more of a win actually.” I told him, he dramatically sat down on the bed, I shrieked in surprise when he pulled me down with him, arms wrapped around my stomach, but not tightly. He kissed the top of my shoulder through my shirt as he grabbed the bag, opening it slowly with me half on his lap, half on the bed, I draped my legs across his as I wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep me upright. He gave me one last look before finally diving his hand into the bag, he grabbed both items at once, and pulled them out, frowning as they were wrapped in more tissue paper. “My god, are you sure you even want me to open this?” He teased, ripping it open, just as he did so, “well, there’s kind of a due date for it so.” I mumbled watching as his face lit up as he held up the onesie, I had really hoped it would be the jersey he saw first. “Y/N, are you serious?!” He asked, scanning my face for any kind of joking look. “Why would I joke about having a baby?” I quipped, laughing when he pulled me in for a hug, “oh my god, this, this is amazing, why didn’t you tell me sooner? How far along are you? I have so many questions.” He rushed, stopping just long enough to pull me in for a kiss. I couldn’t help but grin against him, “I was going to tell you after you guys get in to the next round,” I paused making sure he understood my words, he gave me a lopsided smile, pure excitement dancing in his eyes. “But, I figured you could use some extra motivation now, I’m nearly ten weeks, I only found out about a week ago, I had an appointment while you were at practice.” I shimmied off of his lap as he processed my words, “open the other one, I’m going to grab my phone!” I called as I rushed down the hallway, having a recording of the heartbeat and a sonogram picture in my purse.
When I walked back into the room I stopped as I saw him leaned over the small jersey in his hand, I snapped a picture for myself so I could never forget this moment, not that I would. He glanced up when he heard my feet, and then I saw the single tear fall from his eyes, which just made me emotional all over again. “C’mere.” He muttered, sliding to the edge of the bed, I stood in front of him as he rested the top of his head on my chest, arms wrapped around my back. I played with his still slightly dampened hair, letting a tearful smile out when he ducked his head down for a moment, a delicate kiss being placed to my stomach through the fabric of my shirt. “Look.” I whispered handing him the single scan picture, it was hard to tell exactly what you were looking at, but I had the tech put an arrow on it, “baby Andersen!” Alongside it. I pulled the clip up on my phone, turning the volume all the way up, he took my phone and gasped when he heard the thumping come across, he smiled up at me when he heard me whisper an oh my god in the video. “I wish I had been there.” He mumbled once the sound ended, and I frowned. “Me too, baby I promise I didn’t know they were going to do all that, I didn’t even think I really could be pregnant.” I explained, cupping his jaw so he met my eyes, “it’s alright, I know.” He shushed me, it’s something we talked about quite frequently, especially after the engagement, when I was younger doctors always told me I’d have a hard time getting pregnant, but here I am.
“When can I tell the boys?” He asked after we had finally been laying in bed for a while, I laughed against his chest, “wait a couple weeks, yeah? Until we hit the safer zone.” I explained. He sighed but understood, “alright.”
*** bonus, telling the guys went like this***
They had finally made it into the next round of playoffs and were having a get together at our place to celebrate, we nearly always hosted so it wasn’t odd to anyone when we offered. Everyone but me had a drink or two in them when Freddie wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Ready?” He asked, kissing me quickly when I turned to look at him. “Ready.” I confirmed.
“Hey!” He called out, everyone silencing relatively quickly, I looked around the room, Auston, Mitch and Will beijg towards the front, which was perfect as I was the most excited for their responses. “Y/N and I have something we want to say.” He spoke up, Stephanie appeared beside Mitch, resting comfortably under his arm, I smiled at her and a knowing look cane across her face. “Oh my god!” She shrieked rushing over to me, the guys confused as Freddie and I laughed, “easy killer.” I joked when she nearly knocked me over in a hug. “Shit, ok I’m sorry go ahead say it.” She clapped her hands together stepping aside, Mitch shot her a confused look. “We’re having a baby!” I cheered and everyone gasped, Auston choked on his drink, “what?!” He spoke first after his coughing fit. Will and Mitch shared a look, “I called it, pay up!” Mitch demanded, Will grumbled and pulled out two twenties placing it in Mitch’s hand as Stephanie went back over to him. “Your man over here has had a pep in his step we couldn’t quite place.” Will pointed out as we both stared at them in shock, “Freddie!” I complained, whacking the back of his arm as congratulations started pouring out around us. I smiled as Auston came over and gave me a hug, doing the same to Freddie, the rest of the guys following suit.
“Baby Andersen, coming soon!” I attached a picture of Freddie and I holding the baby jersey and posted it on Instagram before settling in for the night, relishing in the fact that this was really happening.
Tag list: @literarycharleton
#imagine#imagines#nhl maple leafs#nhl writing#nhl imagine#nhl#frederik andersen#frederik andersen imagine#frederik andersen blurb
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"You don't see me." for Beaujester
It comes to a head after the turtle - dragon - dragon-turtle thing because of course it does, because all of them came really fucking close to dying and this has been hanging over them like a storm, like a wave that never broke over them, held there by everything they weren’t saying. It comes to a head because Beau retreats to lick her wounds and when Caduceus tries to heal her she snaps at him, which is one thing, but when Jester tries a few moments later to heal her, Beau snaps at her too, which is unheard of.
Beau stares into surprised, hurt eyes and closes her own.
‘Fuck. Sorry, Jes-ter,’ she says, completing Jester’s name after holding a moment on her nickname.
Jester’s jewellery clinks when she shakes her head, like she’s doing now. ‘It’s fine,’ she lies.
‘Is it?’ Fjord demands and Beau isn’t surprised when she forces her eyes open to face him, face...all of this, that he is glaring at her. ‘What the hell is going on with you, Beau?’
Nothing, she plans on saying.
‘Mind your own fucking business,’ is what comes out.
‘Beau,’ Jester tries to say, tries to interrupt them before they can begin, but Fjord takes a step forward and Beau juts her chin out like the cockiest of prize-fighters, daring him to take a swing, and the wave comes crashing down, all noise and hammering pressure.
‘Mind my business? You are my business!’
‘Sure, it’s really fucking felt that way -’
‘What is that supposed to mean? No, what is that supposed to mean?’ he demands when Beau scoffs, turning away. ‘You have a problem with the job I’m doing? Because from where I’m standing, it’s not me with the problem.’
To anyone really paying attention, the flash in Beau’s eyes is pure satisfaction. ‘Got something you wanna say to me, Fjord?’
‘You know what? Yeah. Yeah I do. You’re being an asshole. Have been for a while now. I wanna know what the fuck is going on so I know if I’ve gotta knock your head back on straight.’
Fjord stumbles back a step when, instead of rolling her eyes or yelling back at him, Beau is suddenly up in his face.
‘Go ahead and try,’ she snarls, planting her hands on his chest and shoving him back. He stumbles back into netted crates, catches himself there. When she shoves at him a second time, he’s ready for it and knocks her hands aside, rams his shoulder into her sternum; it’s Beau’s turn to stagger but she uses it well, grips at the chestplate of his armour and twists, kicking at his injured leg to take him down to the deck. He snatches at her and misses, snags the amulet instead and the leather thong it’s tied on snaps, coming free in his hand.
Beau swipes at her nose. It had stopped bleeding after the fight but has started again. It leaves a rusty smear across her top lip and cheek. Crimson drips onto the deck beside him as she leans over him.
‘Give that back.’
Fjord closes his fingers more tightly around it. He hadn’t meant to take it but now that he has it... ‘Tell me what’s got you acting like this.’
‘I think that’s probably enough,’ Caduceus says from the sidelines and his even, calm tone is enough to grate at both of them.
‘I don’t think it is,’ Fjord says at the same time Beau snaps,
‘Fuck off, cowman.’
‘Now that’s uncalled for -’
‘Cow man? Really? This is exactly the shit I’m talking about.’ Fjord shoves the amulet up toward Beau, who snatches it from his hand and steps away. The string is snapped so she doesn’t bother to tie it but instead shoves it into her vest protectively. ‘You should apologise. I know you just barely learned how,’
‘Fjord!’
He bites down on his bottom lip, keeping back harsher words at Jester’s rebuke.
Beau’s eyes are cool as they rest on him. Flick over to Caduceus. And, they all come to realise, the rest of the crew and their friends.
‘Beau, come on, let me heal -’
‘Don’t touch me,’ Beau snaps at Jester again.
‘You don’t have to talk to her like that, vulnerability be damned,’ Caleb mutters from the sidelines.
‘Caleb, shut up!’
He falls silent for Jester but his disapproval is potent.
Fjord takes in the line of them, all manner of beaten and bloody and bruised, and looks back to Beau. She’s the same way, maybe worse. He sighs.
‘Ah shit. I’m sorry. Here, let me help.’
Calling what little healing he can manage into his hands, he stretches out a palm and watches as it fizzles into nothing, into empty air, when Beau steps back out of his reach.
‘I don’t need your help,’ Beau tells him, all of them, words exact and cold. ‘I don’t need your help.’
Jester’s hands open and close into anxious fists as Beau turns and limps from them, toward the trapdoor leading below. Reaching out, Jester whispers a few words; the healing light around Jester’s hands is obvious, as is the way Beau’s spine shoots straight. She pauses mid-step before pushing on.
//
She isn’t surprised that Caleb is the one to come after her. They all think it’s the two of them - humans sticking together - and maybe it should be, maybe that’s exactly what it once was, but for the last few weeks the distance between them has felt like a chasm growing wider and wider as he refused to talk to her, refused to look at her.
He enters the cabin with a quiet knock and closes the door behind him. Doesn’t take a seat, just stands there by the door and watches as she unwraps the bindings around her fingers and wrists and begins to clean what wounds she can.
‘You were cruel to Jester. She just wants to help.’
Beau grunts. Hisses as she pours stinging salt water over the abrasions on her hands. ‘She can keep her spells. She might need ‘em.’
‘You need them, Bea-’
‘I’ll be just fine but we won’t be if the ship sinks when the Captain drags it onto a fucking reef or whatever.’
Caleb is quiet for a moment. Then, ‘Perhaps he needs the aid of his first mate.’
Beau flicks her eyes toward him, watches him as he is watching her. His face is impassive but his eyes... He watches her as he had Essek, when they had found him to be a traitor. Like he doesn’t recognise her.
‘What are you trying to do? Interrogate me, Vollstrecker?’
The flinch is minute, but it’s there.
‘Why are you trying to leave us?’ he asks after a moment, sliding the question in front of her openly. There is nothing in his tone but curiosity. Perhaps some faint confusion. An equation he wants to solve. She resumes scrubbing, over her hands, beneath her nails. The water bleeds red. He continues. ‘You told me we could do great things together. You told me to trust you.’ The word hisses from him, like air from a punctured lung. ‘You told me to believe in you, in the rest of the group, and now you - you’re the one who wants to leave? Why?’
‘God. You really don’t see it, do you?��
‘See what?’
‘The size of your fucking ego.’
‘I know who I am, Beauregard. I’m talking about you-’
‘I already tried!’ she yells. It’s jarringly loud, echoing back to her against the wall right in front of her and she pulls back. Steps back from the basin, runs dripping wet hands through her hair and huffs an unhappy laugh. ‘Fuck. God. You really don’t - I have tried trusting you, the lot of you, and you don’t - you fucking throw it back in my face.’
Caleb’s expression goes stoney but he doesn’t interrupt.
‘I took you back to my home,’ she says, voice shaking but not breaking. ‘I told you I didn’t want to, that he threw me out, and you asked me to do it anyway and so I did. I took you there, and I spoke to my father and my mother and the brother they actually wanted the whole time they had me. I did that. I went to a fucking hag and said to her take it all, take every fucking thing that I have, take it all. Just let my friend go. And - and sure, m-maybe it was fucked up, maybe it wasn’t the right fucking call, maybe it’s not what you would’ve done but I didn’t fucking expect you all to sit in a fucking circle and ask me if I fucking care.’
‘Beau -’
‘No! No, you asked me what the fuck is going on so here it is! Here it is, Caleb, and I hope you enjoy it because all I want is a shred, just a shred of a sign that you guys give a fuck about me. I’d kill Ikithon if that’s what you want from me. You know that? Even if you didn’t want it, I’d punch his face in until it was jam because he tried to break you. Because he experimented on you. I care about you and I care about all the fucked up kids and fucked up mages he made doing that. I care about the fact that the rest of the Assembly knows and hasn’t stopped him. I pulled Nott out of fucking lava, pretended to be a slave so that we could go rescue her husband. I would give up everything for her. I picked up Fjord and carried him out of the King’s fucking Cage. Yasha nearly killed me and she did kill my people. Mine. Not yours. Mine. Caduceus talks like he knows what the fuck is going on but if he knows shit about me, all he talks about is destiny. Fuck destiny! Fuck fate! Fuck all of that shit! I’m the one in control here, I’m the one who gets to say what I do, I’m the one who decides what matters! Do you finally get that? Do you finally get that, Caleb? Can you finally understand that even when I try and try, I’m the only one of the Mighty Nein,’ she says, and the words have always sounded like a joke but they sound downright mocking coming from her now, ‘that isn’t mighty. And that doesn’t matter so long as my friends can see who I am - but you don’t. You don’t...see that I’m trying. That I was trying to be...better.’
‘We see that, Beauregard,’
‘I don’t need people to see me do good things to know that they’re good,’ she says, and the words are firm and flat like she’s repeating them, reciting them from somewhere. ‘But I thought my friends would...’ She shakes her head, a small smile sitting wrong on her lips. She laughs quietly. Exhausted. ‘It doesn’t matter. We’ve ended a war. What else can we possibly do? It’s over. It’s over.’
#tagging my stories#prompt fill#i forgot abt the beaujes aspect soMehow?? but its there im queer#cr tag
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Hell Hath No Fury
Number two! Look at me! I can do this! <3 Imptober Prompts so far
AO3 Fandom: Good Omens Rating: T+ Prompt: Kidnapped Summary: Warlock is in trouble. And Nanny will not stand for it.
.
"How? How could they have let this happen?"
The pacing had been going on for a while now. Small heels clicked on marble flooring, over and over. Snap snap snap. If the very ground beneath her feet had burst into flames with her fury neither of them would have been surprised, each drag of her heels a spark of wrath that only added to the burning embers raging through her entire mildly shaking form.
As it was, the floor seemed hard pressed to refuse the gouging lines she was trying to physically force into them with every sharp step.
"Crowley-"
"Don't Crowley me, Francis." Ashtoreth snarled, spinning toward her companion, a whirlwind of emotion and fluttering skirts. "You're as angry as I am."
"Quite."
She blinked at the blatant admission, fury momentarily forgotten in a puff of cold shock. She took a second to look him over, note the ice that sat within his gaze, the stone sharp gravel in the rumble from his throat and the tight tremor in his fist. His was a cold anger, the storm that froze all beneath his stare, but he was doing his best to reign it in.
After all, it wouldn't do for the gardener to rant and rave, it wasn't his place.
And he was so good at playing his part.
A Nanny, however, was allowed to be beside herself. She'd probably even be permitted to be a little bit hysterical whilst the parents were not looking... but as it was she wanted to be neither of those things.
She wanted heads to roll. And she refused to stand idly by, waiting for others to make it happen.
"But we cannot move, Cr-Ashtoreth." Francis's eyes turned softer, his gaze concerned as he patted the seat beside him. "We're already under suspicion, everyone in the house is. Until the young master is found we must sit and wait-"
"We already know where he is!" Her voice was punctuated by the crack of her umbrella against the ground, enough force to make the marble groan and dent beneath her iron will. The drone of voices in the nearby room hushed and Francis couldn't help but make quick shushing hand gestures, glancing between her and the doorway. "There's already a ransom." Ashtoreth's face took on a twisted dark smile, disbelieving and repulsed in equal measures, even as she lowered her tone to placate him. "One day." She held a finger up accusingly. "Just one day we let them look after their own kid without our intervention and this happens."
"That's not entirely fair." The words were asinine at best, and at least said with such hollow sincerity that she had no issue with ripping them apart.
"Oh? Is that why you're so stoic all of a sudden? You don't blame them, you blame us?"
Ashtoreth didn't really know what she was aiming for, only that she was in pain and she wanted him to be in just as much pain as she was.
One defeated look from Francis though was enough to make her wish she hadn't, even if she couldn't back down entirely.
It was a look that said he was aching just as much as her.
That he blamed himself more than anyone else in the world.
And she felt it too, that awful twisting, gnawing guilt but also the vicious harsh reality of the situation that it wasn't fair.
Parents were meant to love their children, protect them no matter the costs.
But at least one of the parents they were employed by seemed hellbent on forgetting his family existed even when they were right in front of him until it was too late.
It shouldn't have been this easy, this simple- they'd never had any issues when they'd looked after him.
"You do, don't you?" She took a step back, resting slowly on her umbrella as she gave him an appraising look. "One day off. That's all we've taken in years. We both needed to report in with our respective management. They should have been able to look after him for. One. Day."
"They don't know they're dealing with the antichrist."
His eyes said it all. We lost him. We misplaced the antichrist.
No one else.
Us.
But that wasn't fair.
And it did not help the matter at hand.
"This has nothing to do with that and you know it. This is bog-standard human idiocy and cruelty. No Angels or Demons needed for that." Ashtoreth's expression soured, a bitter taste at the back of her throat as she continued, disbelief and disgust colouring her voice. "Kidnapping a child to get at the father." The next words came out in a much harsher mutter, more hiss than words and more bite than bark. "A father who doesn't deserve him."
"Crowley." There was far more warning there than there ought to be as far as she was concerned.
Luckily, she never was very good at listening to warnings.
"It's true- and you know not to call me that, Angel." Ashtoreth cursed at the raised eyebrow she got in return, that look that called her a hypocrite without actually saying anything at all. "This isn't helping." She knew her voice was becoming desperate, pleading in a way that would normally fill her with shame, but there was no space inside her narrow frame to hold any more emotion than she was already dealing with. "We know where he is, what's stopping us from just-"
"We can't." Francis stood up, gripping her shoulders tightly but gently, a soft shake to try and drag her back into the reality they faced together. "You know we can't get involved. If we get involved, management on both sides will find out. How will we explain all of this? What will happen then?" His eyes tried to catch hers, moving this way and that but she refused to give him the satisfaction. He gave up with a sigh. "They'll decide we're not up to the task, that's what will happen. And then they'll get others to look after him." He tried to pull her closer, but she refused to budge. "You know that can't happen, deep down under all this anger. We can't let that happen and it will if we-"
She pulled out of his grasp, cutting him off as she pushed his hand aside. "I can't. I can't just- not again. Not this time. I've sat and watched too many things happen before and I refuse to do it again." Her eyes gleamed, locking with his in determination and even though she could feel them welling up she refused to cry in front of him, even in anger. "I don't care if this is part of some ineffable plan- some- some divine intervention or pure fucking coincidence- I will not stand by and let him get hurt. Not now. Not ever."
Francis stared at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape in shock. Of course he was startled by her venom, this was a job, after all; that's all it should be for either of them.
But it was also so much more.
They'd lived through so much and seen so much and she'd be damned if she carried on letting God hold all the cards.
"Of course not." The words were soft, understanding flowing through them in a way it hadn't before. Then came a small nod of approval- acceptance, perhaps even a little bit of pride- and it was all she needed to take a few more steps back, breaking what was left of the hold that kept her at bay. "Of course you can't."
She turned her gaze away from him, unable to stand the sad smile glimmering in his vision, the eyes that saw through her, saw what she tried to hide, knew her more than she'd ever allowed anyone to be.
But he'd been there too. Seen the ark, the wars, the suffering- the innocents who didn't deserve their fates.
But not this little boy.
Not this time.
This time she could make a difference.
"If one hair is- If they have hurt that child in any way there will be nothing left but ashhh when I am done with them." Her forked tongue was making an appearance and she swallowed down the urge to change, to tear the world apart in search of her boy.
Francis nodded, eyes already darting about as he tried to come up with a plan of action. "I'll do what I can to keep the peace here. No one will even know you're gone. Just be careful- and quick. Hopefully, it won't take too many miracles for us to pull this off and if we're careful no one will be any the wiser." He frowned thoughtfully, fingers tapping nervously. "At least us being separated should help with that."
"Oh, don't worry." Ashtoreth grinned, a vicious wide snarl that showed too many teeth and stretched too far across her cheeks. "I'm not planning on using that much influence on them."
Francis raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to change at least?"
"No, I think I look perfect for this particular mission."
~~~
Miles away, in a small unremarkable building, surrounded by police, with each window manned by an unscrupulous kidnapper, the ringleader would come to find that a rather large oversight had been made.
If anyone were able to ask him what exactly had happened that day, he would have to say that despite their fortifications, the back door had been found mysteriously and rather irresponsibly unlocked.
The creak of the floorboards and the clack of small heels would be the only warning any of those in the building had to what would befall them in the next few moments. Before a striking red headed lady in a long black dress walked into the main room with little fanfare as if she hadn't just wandered calmly and obliviously into a hostage situation.
"Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing here?"
"Oh, where are my manners." The lady smiled, though it was the kind of smile more suited for a predator staring at prey than a seemingly unarmed lady surrounded by guns.
"I'm here for my Godchild."
~~~
Francis hovered fretfully, only a few hours since her departure. He had heard the news- a team of special operatives had managed to surround the building and break in, pushing forward until the kidnappers gave up their hostage. It all seemed too good to be true, and if he was honest, rather reckless to put the hostage at risk in such a manner.
But then again, he knew a manipulation of reality when he saw one, and at least it was only a small demonic miracle to get the police to believe they had been the ones to save the boy instead of what had actually happened.
He assumed that the assailants would also assume that they had been brought in by the police, though the brutality they no doubt had faced at Ashtoreth's hands might be a lot harder to explain away. Perhaps they had fought back... no doubt she would tell him exactly what had taken place when they had a chance.
For now, however, he just waited with bated breath as a familiar head of red hair came into view, a small boy wrapped up safe and sound in her arms as she slowly walked down the garden path to the back door of the house.
He quickly did his part. He'd kept the family and police calm, kept them out of Ashtoreth's way while she worked until he'd had the signal that she was on her way back. And now he cleaned up. As far as any of those in the house knew, Warlock had been brought home a while ago, they'd had their tearful reunion with him and now he was being quietly settled by his diligent Nanny, to make sure that he wasn't too traumatised by the entire event.
Perhaps it was a bit malicious to not actually let them have their tearful reunion... but he couldn't say that the denial wasn't a little bit deserved too.
A little bit of divine punishment, if you will.
He opened the door for her, quickly beckoning her in before closing it just as abruptly, locking out the world from their small bubble if only for a moment. "How is he? Is he alright?"
"He's sleeping." The anger seemed to have abated now, a much softer, warmer simmer to her entire appearance as she cradled him against her shoulder, her words cooing and placating. "It's been a long day but he seemed to think it was all one big adventure." She gave him a sidelong look. "So if my management does for some reason ask, that's what I'll tell them. I took him on an excursion and showed him what he was capable of."
Francis blanched. "He didn't actually see-"
"Of course not." She rolled her eyes at him. "No ones going to hurt him, let alone me." She continued to rock him, humming softly. "He's too young to see... all that." Her smile turned sharp again, grim satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.
Francis shivered. No doubt she had left her mark and the kidnappers would renounce their ways if they knew what was good for them. "G-good. Well, everything is sorted here. You needn't worry about anyone taking him off your hands for a bit."
Ashtoreth blinked at him blankly for a moment, before glancing down at the boy in her arms. It seemed to dawn on her then that if the parents had tried to take him from her, she might have fought them tooth and claw. She sniffed, standing straighter in a haughty attempt at dignity. "I don't know what you're talking about, gardener. But, I think I should get Master Warlock up to bed. It's been such a long day, we shouldn't disturb his sleep."
Francis smiled, a knowing look that made her scowl deeper as she stalked past him. "Of course. You always know what's best, Ashtoreth."
"Of course I do. I'm his Nanny."
~~~
The next day was a whirlwind of an affair.
The media hounded the door, trying every underhanded method to be the first to get an interview. Security was tightened, meetings were held, and droves of people, relatives, friends, work partners, appeared out of the woodwork to check up on the family- or at least be seen doing so.
That was the crux of it all, Francis couldn't help but think, as the pair sat by and watched the humans do their little dances, the little rituals repeating over and over again. Anything to make sure they were seen, make sure they were heard, each one of them there for reasons that the two of them found distasteful and unremarkable as they instead kept their eyes on what was important- the small boy running around as if nothing had even happened the day before.
Or at least, mostly acting like nothing had happened.
You see, the young boy had a rather interesting story to tell to every new person he was introduced to.
Each time his parents called him over, only to parade him in front of people to prove that he was alright, they would be treated all over again to the show. They would stand with amused, affectionate smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes as he would grin and wave his arms around, proudly remarking that his Nanny had come to get him from the bad people.
The adults would laugh, the kind of endearing laughter that adults did when a child was being ridiculous and they had more important things to be discussing and off Warlock would run, back to his games until the next time he was called on to be their pride and joy.
But his story never changed, no matter how many times he told it.
Nanny had come to bring him home.
She'd always promised him that nothing bad could happen to him, and she'd made good on that promise.
Francis gave Ashtoreth a sidelong glance as they sat on a picnic blanket, propped up against the garden wall as Warlock ran between them and his parents. Ashtoreth kept her eyes on Warlock, acknowledging his glance with only the tilt of her head. It was an unspoken agreement now, that Warlock was always in sight of one of them, neither of them prepared to let anyone else do their job from now on.
"I thought you said he didn't see anything?"
Ashtoreth finally pulled her eyes away from the boy, if only for a moment, to look at him over the top of her glasses, eyes sparkling with mock innocence and mischief. "I said nothing of the sort."
"You did. You said-"
"I said I didn't let him see any of the violence. That's all." She turned away from him, laughing and shaking her head along with the other adults that looked their way as Warlock yet again retold his tale, an endearing gleam to her eyes that only Francis could see behind her glasses. "Kids say all kinds of impossible things after a traumatic experience, didn't you know?"
Francis smiled, shaking his head as he sat back against the wall. "That they do. That they do."
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#nanny ashtoreth#brother francis#warlock darling#crowley#aziraphale#imptober 2020
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BTS Caretaker CH5
Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?
- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)
- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au
- Word Count: 2,590
- Author Note: I suppose im late posting the new chapter because was too tired yesterday, therefore im changing my days of update. From now on i would do update every Saturday/Sunday weekly or biweekly. This is to avoid me forgetting hahah
Previous | Next
Chapter 5
“Who…the.. fuck… are.. you?” Yoongi lurched forwards trapping Seul between the kitchen counter. Every word came from his mouth were dangerously low and disturbing. He cursed something low beneath his breath, something that she couldn’t understand. It sounded like a thick accent from Busan or Daegu to her. Whatever it was, she felt small in front of him.
The breath caught in her throat and her heart twisted at the stunned tone of his voice.
“Stay away from me…” she clutched onto the counter trying to escape from his gaze.
Shit, am I getting caught? She mentally slapped herself for her stupidity.
The corner of his lips twitched into a smirk “Who the fuck are you?” he inquired again this time the tone of his voice was harsher than a minute ago.
Seul bit her lower lips trying to make up excuses, but what else could she say. Her mind went blank for a second and it was not good at all considering how Yoongi’s eyes piercing through her deepest soul. It paralyzed her body.
Getting annoyed, Yoongi leaned closer to her face minimizing the gap that they had earlier “Are you even listening? WHO. ARE. YOU?” he pressed.
She scowled at the proximity as she could literally feel the rate of his heartbeat increases against hers. Why would his heart react crazily like this? Plus, the smell from his hair is driving her crazy. Not that she wanted to creep the hell out of him, it is just he smelled too good. Way too manly, that a woman’s heart like her could melt instantly. Shrugging the thought off, her eyes darted to the guy in front of her. She mentally scanned Yoongi’s feature started with his small and thin lips which still appeared luscious to his nose and eyes. Crap, not this weird thought again.
His eyelashes batted perfectly matching that milky skin of his, how could a man be this flawless? It made sense since he’s an idol, yet heck he is still a man! Metrosexual guy like him really put all his heart into his appearance.
The hell, is she going to play dumb. Yoongi hissed frustrated of Seul’s silence.
“All right, since you are keeping your mouth shut. I am calling the cops” the corner of his lips was tugged into a meaningful smirk, causing Seul to flinch at the sudden threat. She let an unknowing gasp under her breath making the man slamming both hands on the marble counter trapping her body in between “Why? Are you scared?” his brows flinched together showing off the gaze that could kill million Armys.
“Because you are a sasaeng?”
“What did you do to ahjumma?”
“Did you make her give up her job today, so you can stalk me?” accusations after accusations were bombarded right on her face that triggered Seul’s anger in the end. She was still thinking of reasonable stories without uncovering the whole truth. Unsure of the consequences that her mother might receive in the future for bringing her in illegally made Seul became more cautious of everything surround him. First, she must deal with this grumpy monster in front of her.
Wait a minute, why should i? I am working here legally well technically illegally but still I have the staff identification card. Who is he to look down on me? Seul finally got back to her sense after spazzing over Yoongi’s visuals.
Her eyes landed on the bandage near his ears, as bad as this might sound but she found his weakest point. This guy in front of her was invading her personal space, didn’t he realize it was a serious offence. On top of all, none of Bangtan’s members should be around. Referring to their schedule today, they had an award show to attend as early as 6 in the morning.
Mustering up every ounce of her strength one of her hand reached out to his injured ears to give a small squish over there causing Yoongi to yelp in pain. He cursed reflecting the pain that he experienced at the moment, as his body staggered backwards finally leaving a space for Seul to breathe.
“WHAT THE HELL WOMAN?” Yoongi touched his pulsing ears sending death glare at her way.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered of his presence at an odd hour like this. “NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT ANYONE BAILING ON THE AWARDS?” Seul continued before Yoongi could even give her the answers.
Yoongi let out a sarcastic chuckle a hint of annoyance and anger “Fuck this. You even know our schedule? ARE YOU INSANE.. THAT IS IT IM CALLING THE COPS NOW!” his face grimaced due to the pain he experienced. He left dumbfounded Seul behind making his way stealthily to his room. As she finally registered what was going to happen next, her eyes widened in pure horror.
“WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!” she skipped as fast as lightning to reach the older guy realizing what he planned to do. A single phone call would ruin everything for her especially her mother. That need to be stopped.
Despite being in the same size as Yoongi except Seul is much shorter than him, she grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him with all her might putting his step at halt. Yoongi inhaled a deep breath, as his body stumbled backwards crashing the girl against the wall.
“WHAT THE HELL? ARE YOU INSANE” the same thing came out from his mouth as if he was chanting a curse.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING? I am about to answer your questions!” she grumbled lowly, pushing Yoongi body off from touching her body. Lies was the last thing she wanted to do, or more like adding more lies to their existing lies. Yet, what choice did she has?
Yoongi clucked his tongue inside as he spun his body facing the worried Seul “Speak. If you don’t speak in 5 seconds, I swear to god I will make the phone call” he rolled his eyes scanning Seul from top to bottom. Even though she looked pretty decent to be a sasaeng fan, but her face told him she was far from those title. Was he overreacting?
“Jeez, alright. I am your caretaker for now or at least until my mother got better” his brow ceased into a deep frown.
“What kind of bullshits you are trying to tell now?” Yoongi backfired with a nasty scoff.
“Not bullshits but truth” she heaved a deep sigh as her hand went to rummaged through her bags, finding her mother work ids. “Here..Mrs Hwang is my mother so digest it” she tossed the cards for Yoongi to catch it on time.
He was displeased with the way she acted but played along since this privacy invasion was severe than her attitude. Being in the condition whereby he wanted to believe or denying the fact that Seul was saying the right thing, Yoongi chose not to give in so easily.
“You don’t look like her, are you sure this is your mother? Anyone can claim to be Mrs Hwang’s daughter at this rate considering how crazy a fan like you can be!” Seul gritted her teeth feeling the anger built inside her slowly took over her mind.
Seul crossed her arms “That wont change the fact that I am her daughter you little piece of shit. For a record, I AM NOT YOUR FAN!” he was startled by her choice of foul words making him feel more irritable than before.
“Why would I trust a girl with foul mouth like you? That makes you make even suspicious. I demand the truth now”
“That is the truth. You are just too stupid to realize it”
“Excuse me? Do you think I would buy your ‘Mrs Hwang is my mother’ story? I am much better than that thank you”
“Gosh, as expected idols like you are nothing but pretty faces. A total asshole and dumb some more”
Yoongi shot her a bewildered glare “ First of all, thank you for stating the fact. Oh, secondly, we are bunch of genius. The only idiot in this room is you” he knew the banter was pointless and childish. However, Seul was driving him up the wall with all the nonsense coming from that pretty little lips of her.
“Whoever you are mister, I don’t think I need to explain everything to you. You are not even my employer” Seul grabbed her mother card from his hand harshly, shoving it inside her bags.
“I mean my mother’s employer” she corrected before grabbing the rest of her stuff getting ready to leave.
He took the chance to yank her hoodie with a strong tug, pulling Seul to face him again “Where do you think you are going?” for an odd reason he enjoyed seeing her flushed face. Seul was struggling like cute kitty wanting to escape from his owner’s grasp.
Feisty. He mentally laughed at her silliness.
“You are not allowed to leave. Let’s wait until my manager come back, we must deal with crazy girl like you. That is if you really are Mrs Hwang’s daughter” every word coming out from him was a total psycho. It irked Seul to the core.
“LET ME GO! DON’T MAKE ME DO SOMETHING THAT YOU WILL REGRET, I SWEAR I AM CAPABLE OF ANYTHING!” she yelled.
“Oh really? How crazy does it sound, I AM INTRIGUED BY THAT MISS MRS HWANG’S DAUGHTER” he challenged with a playful smug.
Seul pressed both of her lips into a thin line. Her eyes aimed for his injured ear again, yet she put a stop of that devil thought upon seeing a small red stain on the bandage. Her tummy churned in sheer fear, he was bleeding.
Shit Seul, think of something. You must leave now. A lot of crazy ideas were attacking her at once but the after effect of her action would bring more harm than good. Whatever it was, she needed to leave now. The guy in front of her would not spare her life so easily.
Should I aim for his crotch..She was about to sway her knee to give a little kick on Yoongi’s private area and as expected he was quick to catch that obvious gaze of her. As if her eyes were telling him the plan inside her head. Interesting.
“Got you” he lifted his leg blocking Seul from kneeing that fragile area.
Seul snorted in annoyance which later turned into a devilish smirk “Oh really?” she was contemplating to do this one thing which would end this bicker between them, so she could flee with ease. Seul thought it was a horrible idea, but slowly let her anger took over her sane mind, Yes.. I will make this little piece of shit shut up.
Snapping her head up meeting his deep gaze, Yoongi raised his eyebrow in confusion “Lower your gaze wom-“ his eyes popped out upon feeling a wet and moist friction against his lips. Seul was kissing him on his lips not cheeks, but his lips. What on earth just happened?
She cupped his cheeks, tiptoeing a little ‘Screw this Ji Seul, just do it and go. You will have to quit from now on’ Seul tilted her head a little ignoring stiff Yoongi as she was now kissing him for real. No more hanky panky.
Seul did not even care if he wasn’t kissing her back even though she could feel his lips quivered beneath hers slowly giving in.Yoongi froze in his spot staring straight into her dark brown eyes. He had no idea how to react neither did he knew what to do. This was a total madness.
Seul cussed regretting her stupid action but she could feel his grip start to loosen up, which meant her plan worked in the end. Because after all, Yoongi was too noisy. Seul calmed her racing heart due to her rash actions but decided to ignore all the stupid butterflies inside her tummy.
It can’t be undone. Screw this.
After for good two minutes locking lips, Seul pulled away quickly with a deep taint blush visible on both of her cheeks leaving shocked Min Yoongi behind. Taking off her aprons, she tossed it away and decided to make a run before Yoongi came back to his sense.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Seul smacked her lips, scolding it like it could respond her back afterwards.
Yoongi watched Seul’s figure disappeared from his vicinity as he bellowed his frustration loudly “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” he raked fingers in his messy hair angrily. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to register earlier incident, she was kissing him on the lips. He was too taken aback that he stood there like a clown and a second later she flees leaving no trace behind.
“MIN YOONGI YOU IDIOT” he hissed pacing around the living room calming down his aching nerve. His heart beating furiously as if he would jump out from it by anytime soon. This was an invasion of privacy and sexual harassment. Would anyone even trust a guy being sexually harassed because after all the world is prejudiced when it came to man being sexually harassed.
Crazy. Clenching his fist, he was determined to find Seul again.
----------------
“Min Yoongi that sound insane” said Seokjin with a frown.
Yoongi had been convincing Jin about his encounter with Seul but to his dismay, the older guy would never trust him and assumed he was high with drugs. Heck, he wished he could turn back the time and changed that one scene which kept lingering in his mind.
The kiss was the stupidest thing that ever happened. How could he forget that?
“YAH ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? SOMEONE TOOK OVER AHJUMMA’S JOB TODAY AND INVADED OUR DORM!” Yoongi facepalmed in frustration. He really wanted to punch Jin handsome face to let out all the frustration inside him now.
“As much as I want to trust you my friend, but I think that is impossible. The security here is pretty tight, how can she enter this building without an access card? Can you take a chill pill. You must have seen it wrong” Jin sighed.
“The problem is I know what I saw. A girl around our age is here, in our kitchen! And for pete’s sake she is not even an ahjumma in fact.. far far away from being an ahjumma. YOU ARE FRUSTATING HYUNG” he rose from his feet, pacing back and forth with a grimace.
Jin shrugged while his hand massaging his tense muscle “Yoongi I am too tired to listen to your nonsense. Let’s talk about this tomorrow alright? And don’t talk about this to manager hyung. You will cause unnecessary worries” he mumbled. Yoongi watched the older boy lied down on the bed looking dead tired after their hectic schedule.
Sitting at the end of his bed, he ran his finger in his soft hair feeling a little glum after his failed attempt in convincing his own roommate. He decided to call it a day and talked it out with others tomorrow. Maybe, someone would trust him unlike traitor Kim Seokjin.
He threw his body heavy on the bed with a loud grunt. Reaching his finger to his lips, he found his heart felt giddy over the brief kiss that he shared with Seul few hours ago.
Groaning in his head, he buried his face in his pillow ‘DON’T YOU EVER DARE MIN SUGA..’ he huffed.
This work belongs to Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved.
#bts fic#bts fanfiction#min yoongi x oc#yoongi x oc#yoongi fic#jungkook x oc#jeon jungkook x oc#jungkook fic#bts fanfic#bts series#yoongi fluff#bts romance#bts idolau#suga x oc#jungkook romance#bts fluff#jungkook idolau#yoongi idolau#btscaretaker
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Catching a Case of the Doctor Blues ⌠Part 16⌡
⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst
↳ (4.5k) Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU
⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye…
⇢ Warnings: so much cuteness :’)
⇢ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
⇢ Updates every Tuesday - next update
Your eyes stare at the bright gleaming sign that glows out from the dark sky above you. It’s entrancing and intriguing, yet you keep wondering to yourself how on earth you had agreed to this.
The culprit has a huge smile plastered on his face, black hair styled to reveal his forehead and a clean cut royal blue dress shirt adorned. His eyes stare at the sign in amazement when they flicker over the hoard of workers lined up next to you and then finally meet your eyes.
“Oh come on!” He exclaims, “Don’t look at me like that!”
You glare at him, “This is where you wanted to take us?” Everyone with you is confused as well, mummers whispering through.
“Why not?” He walks over to you, “It’s the time to celebrate!”
“Park Jimin we’re at a bar.”
“Pshh,” He shakes his head, “It’ll be fun!” He looks behind you, “Right guys?”
“U-uh...well…” Namjoon attempts to reason, scratching his head. Chaeyoung is still staring at the sign, eyes rapidly flickering.
“Do they have any banana milk?” Jungkook raises his hand and suddenly questions, looking at you eagerly and you grimace.
Banana milk was probably the last thing they had.
“I don’t understand why I was dragged here.” Yoongi points out and Jimin pouts, but another voice speaks out.
“It does look fun!” Jin turns around, looking at everyone, “And besides, this is for my promotion and I think we should go.”
You sigh; there wasn’t much you could do at this point. Jin had finally gotten an update on his application, which had been accepted, and would soon be leaving his long-term intern position to become a doctor. For a celebration, he had suggested that everyone gather for a night out for the occasion, but of course Jimin has his own ideas with the matter.
“Fine.” You finally say, “Let’s just get in already.”
Your eyes quickly flicker over, in search of the man who had yet to arrive but Yoongi reaches over to tap you on the shoulder, “Come on. He’ll be here soon.”
You all get seated and the table is completely full at all four corners with the large number of chairs squished together. Namjoon and Jin sit together on one end, while Yoongi takes up another end. Jimin sits down with Jungkook and you are left seated next to Chaeyoung.
You assume Yoongi had saved the seat for your fellow doctor, but then a particular orange haired man with a sunny disposition arrives and immediately a giant smile is on your lips.
“Hoseok?” You instantly get up from your seat and the man charmingly smiles at you before engulfing you straight into a hug. He’s dressed in a dark green jumper and brown pants, looking considerably better than the last time you had seen him.
Hoseok greets everyone else and then sits down to Yoongi, whose energy changes right away when a gummy smile spreads across his face.
“How are you now Hoseok?” You question while Jimin brings small menus over for everyone to look through.
“I’m great!” He smiles, “I haven’t had any problems breathing lately!”
A fond smile is on your lips when he turns his attention over to Yoongi, “So what’s the special occasion for?”
Yoongi gestures over to Jin, “He isn’t an intern anymore.”
Hoseok eyes enlarge dramatically, pure joy lighting up inside him, “You’re a doctor now?!”
“Sure am.” Jin confidently says but soon he’s being engulfed into a hug by Hoseok who had rushed over to his side.
Hoseok raises his determined fisted hand with a cute pout, “I knew you could do it!” He reaches out his hand and Jin high fives it.
Jungkook sighs, “Man…I want to hurry up and be a doctor already too…”
Chaeyoung turns over to him with a smile, “Don’t worry, we can do it!” She pats him on the back and he shoots her an appreciative look.
Jimin plants himself right in between them, “Alright! Alright! Are we ordering some drinks or not?”
“I’ll take the….” Namjoon squints his eyes and they enlarge when he sees the price. His eyes go down the column, only continuing to widen before he turns to Jimin. “Why is everything here so expensive?”
“Because it has quality.” Jimin explains, hopping over to Namjoon, “Should I just order for everyone?”
“I guess.” You shrug, eyes darting around everywhere. Jimin excitedly nods, rushing over to the waiter.
“So if Jin isn’t Dr. L/N’s intern anymore…” Jungkook brings up, “Then are you internless?”
You chuckle at that, “Unfortunately so. It’s a shame that I’ll be losing such a hard worker.” You smile to Jin and he returns it.
“I’ll miss working with you.” Jin turns to Jungkook, “And you can become a doctor too. Just turn 26 first.”
Jungkook mischievously smiles, “I’ll become one by next year.”
“Is that a bet?” Jin asks but Namjoon interrupts them.
“We shouldn’t be betting in the workplace!!”
“Namjoon we’re in a bar.” Jin says and his eyes flicker for a moment.
“Oh right…”
“Wait a minute. If you’re a doctor now does that mean we’ll have two Dr. Kim’s?!” Jungkook hurriedly says.
“We actually had two Dr. Kim’s from the start…” Namjoon mumbles.
Jungkook gasps, “Now we have three Dr. Kim’s!”
“Why do you like hiring so many people with the last surname?” Hoseok questions, reaching over to pour Yoongi a glass of water.
Namjoon shrugs, “It just happened. But no one really calls me Dr. Kim anyways…”
“Tell me about it.” Jimin plops back down next to Jungkook. “By the way the drinks have been ordered and will be here soon. Does anyone know where Dr. Kim is?”
All eyes suddenly land on you, “What?”
“You usually talk to him. Where is he?” Yoongi asks and you abruptly shrug.
“How am I supposed to know?” Your tone comes off a lot harsher than you intended and even Yoongi looks surprised, but you shake your head, “He’ll be here soon enough.”
“So…” Jungkook begins when the room drops in silence, “Why don’t we just call the Kim’s by their first name.”
“That probably wouldn’t apply to me…” Namjoon says but Jin pitches through.
“I just got the title of doctor and you guys always get addressed by it.” He pouts, “I worked hard for this.”
“Maybe we should just replace Jin’s new position with Dr. Kim instead.” Jimin suggests but a protest come out of Jin.
“What?! No!,” He points an accusing finger at Jimin, “Don’t go around replacing me, I’m irreplaceable!”
Jimin scoffs, “Sureee you are.”
Jungkook scrunches up his nose. “It feels weird calling Jin Dr. Kim…” Even you nod to that, the tone not sounding quite right.
“What is Dr. Kim’s first name anyways?” Jimin asks Namjoon and everyone turns to him expectantly.
“It’s Taehyung.”
The words don’t leave Namjoon’s mouth.
He quickly walks by the crowded table in the pursuit of a chair and finally locates one after a couple of minutes. Dragging it over, his eyes immediately flicker over you and you press on your lips to keep them from smiling as you meet his gaze.
He’s dressed in a light blue dress shirt with white stripes, the tone of it considerably lighter compared to anything you’ve seen on him. He wears it casually, the buttons loosely done and his sleeves pushed back, but the most noticeable characteristic is the absence of his glasses once again.
It’s then he realizes that there isn’t enough space for him to sit beside you when you have Chaeyoung on one side and Jin on the other so he hesitates for a moment. You notice this right away and then spot available space next to Jimin; gesturing with your eyes for him to sit there. He sends you a quick apologetic look and you slightly shake your head when he opts to get seated beside Jimin.
It amazes you how you and Dr. Kim can talk without words and how no one even notices the interaction that took place.
“I’ve never seen you without glasses Dr. Kim.” Chaeyoung remarks, staring at her superior with awe.
“I only wear them at work to focus.” He adjusts himself in his seat, “Who chose the bar?”
“I did.” Jimin retorts, a smirk on his face, “By the way we were wondering if you could give the title of Dr. Kim to Jin.” Jimin says, leaning back in his chair as he awaits for an answer.
“Title?” His eyes flicker over to said man, “You can use it. It doesn’t belong to me.”
“But we can’t have two Dr. Kim’s.” Jin explains but he shakes his head.
“Just call me Taehyung then. Especially outside of work.”
“Alright Taehyung.” Jimin laces an arm around the man and he raises a suspicious brow, “I hope we can be great friends.”
Your drinks finally make there way to your table and not much is said after then as the curiosity swarms around the nature of what Jimin had exactly ordered. A lot of the drinks you weren’t familiar with either, but then everyone begins to try them and your eyes widen when you Jimin turn into a mixer to create bizarre combinations for everyone.
The drink you have isn’t so bad, you suppose, yet your cautious with it because one sip of it had already left a strong taste in your mouth and you weren’t keen on continuously indulging more of it.
Looking around the atmosphere is different but it isn’t uncomfortable. Jimin is serving everyone drinks and talking huge gulps of his own, Namjoon seems to be involved in a hearty conversation with Jin that leads to both of them laughing about something absurd, Yoongi has an iron grip on Hoseok who keeps on insisting that he was recovered enough to join in and the latter doesn’t want to budge while Jungkook attempts to know more about nature of the drinks by carefully looking through the menu with Dr. Kim’s help.
Correction. Taehyung.
Taehyung…
“Dr. L/N?” The girl next to you is on her phone, expectant eyes moving to look at you as she gets up, “Can you come with me for a second?”
You’re surprised, but you don’t suppose your doing much except for watching the commotion before you while you sip on your strange drink so you oblige. She leads you away from your group and stops in front of another table not too far away.
“Dr. L/N, I wanted to introduce you to my friends.” Chaeyoung smiles and your eyes rack over the three intimidating girls seated in a booth. They’re all gorgeous, but at the same time they look like they could take you out right there and then causing you wonder how someone as sweet as Chaeyoung was friends with them.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Jisoo.” The one with purple hair says with a smile.
The brown haired one speaks out, raising her drink, “Jennie.”
“I’m Lisa.” The blonde one says and her voice comes out much sweeter compared to her appearance.
“Chaeyoung tells us about you a lot. The doctor that helped her fit in.” Jisoo explains and you’re taken aback, voice stuttering.
“M-Me?”
“Of course Dr. L/N! You’ve helped me so much!” She sits down next to Lisa and gestures for you to join in as well.
You get into conversation with the girls, with Chaeyoung explaining about her internship at the hospital to Lisa and Jennie talking about how they’ve seen Chaeyoung struggle a lot during her college days but are happy she’s now where she wants to be.
“So what are you all doing?”
“I’m working as an office assistant for now.” Jennie says, eyes rolling, “Getting promoted doesn’t seem to be in question though.”
You nod understandably; the corporate world wasn’t the nicest when it came to female workers, “I’m switching through jobs but haven’t really gotten any calls back yet…” Lisa retorts, voice growing smaller.
That is understandable as well with how much the job market keeps declining by the year.
“I’m looking for an internship as well but not many hospitals are hiring currently.” Jisoo explains and instantly your eyes light up.
“You’re looking to be an intern?” She nods.
“What are your credentials?”
“I did my undergraduate degree and just finished medical school last year.”
“Oh,” You pause, “So you haven’t passed the examination yet?”
She shakes her head, “I just completed it but my results haven’t come in yet.”
“I see…” You nod, “Well once you get your results….I don’t mind taking you in as my intern.”
Jisoo immediately gasps and Chaeyoung looks at you in wonder, “Really Dr. L/N? You’ll take in Jisoo?”
“Well I need to talk to Namjoon about it first.” You honestly warn her, “But Jin is no longer my intern and I can always use the extra help from someone qualified.”
Jisoo smiles and thanks you while Chaeyoung launches herself towards you for a hug and you laugh when tears start to escape from her eyes. Jisoo ends up taking out tissues and handing them to her, “Sorry about this doctor, she’s been worried about me for a while now.” Jisoo apologetically says but you shake your head.
“It’s alright, and you can just call me Y/N.”
The conversation continues and for some reason you find yourself relaxing a lot more. You wonder if its because you’re constantly around the guys that having some decent girl time was never part of your day. That being said though, the conversation does take a different turn.
“He brought me flowers for our anniversary.” Jennie says, a triumph smile on her face and a collective ‘aw’ echoes through the room when you all burst out into giggles.
“What about you Y/N?” Lisa eagerly questions. “Anyone special in your life?’
“U-Uh…” You’re not sure if you should bring it up, considering Chaeyoung was with you, “There is someone…”
A loud ‘Ooh’ resonates through the girls and you shyly laugh, “Oh my gosh you’re blushing!” Chaeyoung squeals.
“What is he like??” Jennie exclaims and you smile.
“He’s hardworking and really observant.” You begin, “but he has a kind side to him and he shows it behind the scenes.”
The girls are listening to you with wide lovestruck smiles, “He also has a sense of humour. I wish I could see it more often though.” You chuckle and everyone lets out a sigh.
“What about you Chaeyoung?” Lisa questions. “Anything go on with you and that doctor?”
“That doctor?” You playfully question and she shakes her head from the furious blushing.
“I d-don’t know yet.”
“What was his name…” Jisoo narrows her eyes, “Oh! Park! Dr. Park right?”
Your eyes immediately widen and you look at her astonished to which she tries to shrink away from your gaze. “Really? Jimin?”
A grimace comes on her face from the mention and Jennie raises her voice, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m still not sure.” She looks to you, “He’s just so flirty and bold…”
A collective hum resonates through, “I know he seems like that but he’s a sweet and stable guy underneath Chaeyoung, I can assure you of that.” You say and she smiles at you.
Jisoo pumps out a fist, “We only like sweet and stable men in this household!”
“What household we’re in a bar?!” Jennie exclaims and all of you laugh but Jisoo still has a confident smile on her lips.
“Um Y/N?” A male voice suddenly breaks into the collection of female voices and even you’re surprised to see him.
“Jimin?” You ask, getting up as he appears to not meet your eyes, gaze fixated on the ground.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” He hurriedly questions, looking more nervous by the minute and you raise an eyebrow at that. You quickly wave to the girls, saying you’ll be back and they understandably nod.
Jimin looks frazzled when he abruptly drags you in the corner and starts mumbling in a hushed whisper.
“Okay so you need to promise not to kill me.“
“Jimin…” His eyes are darting back and forth and you already know what this means, “What did you do…?”
“I seriously thought it was just a fruity drink. Honestly I-“
“Jimin.” Your tone changes, “What. Did. You. Do.”
He taps his fingers against each other, “Um so….I might have of accidentally gotten Taehyung drunk…”
Your jaw drops down and you’re instantly fuming with anger, “JIMIN!”
“I’m sorry!! I didn’t know there was alcohol in it…” He mumbles but your eyes are darting everywhere.
“Where is he?” You grit out and Jimin points in the direction for you to rush over.
To be honest, saying that you’re scared is a complete understatement.
You’re petrified.
“Too bitter.” He explains, “It’s the same for alcohol, it’s too bitter for me.”
“Y/N!” Jin exclaims from across the table, “What are you doing over there?? Join us!”
You cautiously walk over and the sight before you is simple enough – Namjoon talking to Yoongi about some heated discussion, Hoseok is scrambling to find his drink as Jin watches him and laughs but then your eyes take you somewhere else and your jaw drops.
“This one doesn’t taste so bad!” A loud voice pitches through and for a second you blink, for it sounded so different you were having difficulty recognizing it.
“I found one that tastes like banana milk!!” Another voice, specifically of a young intern pitches through.
“Really?! Lemme tryyy!” The voice retorts and its then you find them in their own corner, handing each other drinks with curious looks.
“Dear god…” You whisper, leaning against the wall and they instantly turn to you with smiles.
“Dr. L/N!!” Jungkook yells, racing over to you and dragging you down to sit on the floor, “You should try this one! It tastes like banana milk!”
“Um yeah….” You put the glass he hands you down, “I don’t think so…”
Your eyes move over to someone else, completely frozen when you attempt to take in who exactly was in front of you because it surely was not Dr. Kim.
He turns over to you, a sheepish smile as his cheeks are tinted pink when he whispers in a shy voice. “Hi.”
“Hi...?” You almost want to laugh at the way he happily shuffles over to you and you are so glad that you’re getting to witness this side of him. “So Jimin tells me you’re drunk?” You raise an eyebrow.
He nods furiously, “He said the drink has strawberries.” He rocks back and forth, legs crossed, “And strawberries are sweet.” He leans over to your ear, “Like you.”
He bursts out in giggles and Jungkook laughs with him for no reason as your cheeks are colored a rose shade.
“Alright.” You get up, ushering them to follow you, “Time to put an end to this party.”
They both look at you with pleading faces and you almost feel like you’re a parent supervising her two children because you don’t budge.
If he keeps talking like this, who knows what else he’ll do.
“Come onnnnn.” He whines, a pout on his face, “I wanted to try more of them.”
“If you keep trying them then a certain person named Jimin isn’t going to make it through the night.”
“Let’s leave Jimin alive and healthy please!” A voice shouts from the other side of the room as you bring him back to the table.
Sitting then down, you attempt to collect your belongings, “What’s the rush Y/N?” Jin slurs, already drunk himself.
“I need to drop these two off home because they can’t drive.” He hums understandably and once you have your coat on, you turn to Dr. Kim.
“Give me your keys.” You reach out as a way for him to place the metallic object in your hand but he shakes his head and then suddenly you’re being whisked off his feet.
A yelp leaves your lips as you close your eyes to brace impact yet when you open them, you’ve landed in a place in front of everyone’s eyes to witness.
Right on top of his lap.
Instantly the heat rushes to you when the questionable gazes dart over, “T-That’s very funny Dr. Kim.” You feign the most fake laugh you have ever produced in your entire life.
But then his arms trace over and leave a trail of goosebumps when he nuzzles himself in your hair, “You smell like strawberries.” He lets out a giggle, “I like strawberries.” He proceeds to hug you closer to him and you are full on panicking at this point.
Everyone’s staring! Y/N do something!!
“Yes, yes I smell like a strawberry, now let me go.” You whisper the last part and wrench his arms off quickly to dust yourself off but he pouts.
You take a look around and everyone looks shocked to the point where they’re frozen.
This isn’t going to be easy to explain afterwards.
A sudden flash passes by when Dr. Kim lifts his hand and you instantly snatch the keys away from him. “Alright then! See you all later!” You squeak out, ignoring the high pitch of your voice.
The ride home is just as disastrous, with a semi-drunk Jungkook telling you he was hungry for banana milk every five seconds and you eventually having to buy some for him out of frustration. He surprisingly calms down afterwards and is no longer a thorn in your side once he waves at you and leaves to go into his own home.
“Now that that is over…” You glance at Dr. Kim, seated in the passenger seat with a huge smile watching you, “It’s time for you to go home.”
“You’re driving my car.” He shyly giggles at that and you quirk an amused look, “Oh! Oh! Also-“ He pokes at your arm to get your attention when you’re about to reverse the car. “I don’t have my house keys.”
You widen your eyes, immediately shifting the car back to park and he looks worried like a child that was going to be scolded. “You don’t have your house keys?”
He innocently shakes his head and you groan. You thought Jungkook was a headache to deal with when drunk but Dr. Kim has to prove you wrong on that.
Your mind racks around for a possible solution and eventually narrows down onto one, much to your own dislike, “Do you…” You sigh, looking at him and he curiously gazes at you, “Do you just want to stay over at my place?”
Laughter bubbles out of him when he claps his hands, “Okay!”
This is not Dr. Kim. You remind yourself. This is some childlike version of Dr. Kim that is partially insane.
The struggle of getting home is even worse with Dr. Kim as his curiosity runs wildfire when he’s drunk and you are completely exhausted answering a wide array of his wondering questions. The moment your apartment comes into view, you’re jumping for joy when you hurriedly open the door on his side and gesture for him to get out.
“Here it is.” You point to your apartment but then realize he’s actually already seen it, conveniently when you decided to drag him in…
Shuffling your keys, the door opens and he almost stumbles in but you’re quick to catch him, “Are you okay?”
“My head hurts a bit…” He whines, holding onto you when you drag him to your couch.
“Stay here, I’ll get you something for it.” You go into your kitchen and rack through the cabinets until you find your medical supplies.
“Here.” You set the tablet down with some water, “Just take it with this.”
He obediently nods and you almost want to laugh at the sudden reversal. If you had been in the same position, you would have surely thrown some type of tantrum. “Sleep here for tonight, I’ll grab you some pillows and blankets.”
“On the couchhh?” He whines, “I don’t want to!!”
You quickly come back with the supplies, “You have to sleep Dr. Kim.”
“Why do you keep saying that??” He abruptly gets up.
You start to set down the pillow and blankets, “Saying what?”
“Calling me Dr. Kim! I told everyone they could call me Taehyung!” His volume increases and it’s similar to the argument you had in Namjoon’s office.
“U-Um well I-“ Suddenly the blanket falls from your hands and you’re being pinned against the wall when his hands resting on each side.
“Y/N.”
His tone drops in a deeper one at the mention of your name, no longer brimming with his innocent tone causing you to gasp. “Say it.” He commands, his entire vibe switches back into his stern one.
You can seem to look anywhere else but at his dark eyes, piercing into you when you can’t breathe properly anymore, “Ta-Tae…” A deep red blush coats your cheeks when you suck in another breath, “Tae-Taehyung.” You finally annunciate it, smiling at him but he leans in and soon the thought is completely forgotten when he presses his lips to your own.
Your eyes immediately flutter shut and you melt against him as he gently lowers himself to hold you in his arms. He tilts head to the side and presses his lips closer as he savours the moment for as long as he can. You clutch onto his shirt, trying to keep yourself steady when the strength in your own legs dissipates.
You slowly break apart and his half-lidded gaze stares at you with such adoration then you could possibly comprehend. He caresses your cheek and chuckles underneath his breath, “You finally said it properly.” He whispers, tugging you into his arms.
You can’t fathom what he even means by that but he only holds you closer to him, “Y/N.” Your name slipping off of his deep tone causes shivers to run down your spine and you can only muster the will to hum in response, “Can I stay with you tonight?”
Although hesitant with the response at first, you can’t deny the part of you that is concerned about him, “A-Alright.”
He slowly detaches from you, bringing you over to the couch where he lies down and gestures for you to join him. Once you do, he drapes the blanket over you and laces his arm around your torso as he keeps you in a protective lock. A content sigh escapes him when you move to place your head on his chest and deep unsaid words bubble out from him. “Don’t leave me Y/N.” He mumbles, eyes beginning to droop into sleep.
“I won’t.” You whisper, clutching onto him when the words sounds so broken coming from him.
“Please don’t leave me again.” He moves his hands to completely envelope you against him, “Please.”
His voice cracks at the hand and you absolutely can’t stand how he’s almost pleading with you. However, your firm answer does grant him some peaceful sleep for the night.
“I’ll always stay with you Taehyung.”
#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fluff#taehyung doctor au#taehyung e2l au#bts taehyung fanfic#bts taehyung fluff#kim taehyung fanfic#kim taehyung fluff#bts taehyung doctor au#bts taehyung e2l au#kim taehyung doctor au#kim taehyung e2l au#taehyung angst#bts v fanfic#bts v fluff#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts angst#bts doctor au#bts e2l au#bts imagines#bts scenarios
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press play : i.f
brief summary: taking care of your ex, ilya after he gets super drunk. pure fluff and ilya - what’s not to love?
* masterlist *
I hope you appreciate the gif as much as I do ;)
Driving towards his house I glanced to my right, seeing my equipment all ready to film. It’s going to be an easy day before the long night ahead, as when it’s someone's birthday we go all out. It’s what any friend would do, especially when one friend is a millionaire.
I climb out of my car, carrying my bag of equipment before letting myself in. “Hey, Dave!” I call out as I shut the front door behind me, a smile on my face as I hum along to the song I was playing in my car.
As I turn the corner into the living room I drop the bag without realising as he turns his head. “Hey?” I watch as he brushes his hair back, it’s gotten a lot longer since I last saw him.
His eyes soften as they remain focused on me, and suddenly I feel self-conscious of my appearance. Before I can speak I see David enter the room, focused on his phone before lifting his head and smiling at me. He moves to sit down opposite Ilya but then stands back up, realising the situation he is in.
“Oh shit.” He mumbles before he widens his eyes up at me whilst I stand with my arms crossed.
I tilt my head, avoiding Ilya’s gaze. “Yeah.” I state before walking towards him and place my hand on his upper arm, dragging him towards his room where we can speak in private without prying ears. “Seriously?” I mutter as I groan loudly.
David stands still whilst I pace up and down the room. “I didn’t know he was coming to celebrate Zane’s birthday!” He exclaims and walks over, placing his hands on my shoulders in order to calm me down. “Can you just at least talk?”
Raising my eyebrows to him he sighs quietly. “We have nothing to talk about, Dave.” I tell him, thinking back to the last time we spoke and it was nothing more than a few passing words.
“At least be nice? For Zane.” He asks and I let out a heavy sigh before reluctantly nodding. I feel him bring me into a tight hug to which I slowly lift my arms, patting his back. “It’s one night, and then you won’t have to see him again.”
I nod in response, knowing it’s true. I won’t have to see his stupid face for at least a few months now. It’s one night, ten hours at the most being within the same company as him. As long as I keep my cool and not let him get to me it’ll be fine. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I half laugh, but David pulls a face. “Yeah let’s not go there.” I follow up my statement as I can picture him ending up in the hospital because he tried to climb up the side of the house. That was the last straw, causing our relationship to crumble.
*
Sitting in the bar with everyone all I can hear is him. He’s already drunk and is making sure, like always that everyone can hear him. It was something I once was able to overlook because I was blind sighted by how much I loved him. But since I ended things seeing him like this makes me feel uncomfortable, unable to relax as I fear what he’ll end up doing.
“-and then I see Karl staring at me whilst he’s sat on top of Link,” Zoning back in I turn to face Kristen, clearly aware I wasn’t paying much attention to her story as her smile diminishes. “Y/n, have you actually spoken to him?” She asks and I sigh before sipping at my drink.
“I don’t exactly know how, and I doubt now is the best time.” Motioning to the sight to our right Dima lifts Ilya’s legs to do a handstand as he begins to drink from the keg that David ordered. “Plus, I have no idea what to say.”
Kristen raises her eyebrow to me, giving me that look. “I think we both know what you would and want to say.” She nudges me lightly and before I can respond a loud thud and commotion begins.
“Oh no,” She mumbles before standing up and we both begin to move closer towards the crowd of people.
As we weave through to find our friends the keg is on top of Ilya’s chest whilst he is flat on his back, eyes closed. “Great.” I state as I bend down next to Dima and roll it off of him. “Want me to take him back?” I ask Dima who nods and gives me a small smile.
It’s been a long time since I saw Dima, but we have this mutual understanding regardless of everything that happened between me and Ilya. He knows in these situations I’m the most sensible person to deal with a very drunk Ilya, whether I like it or not.
Slowly Ilya opens his eyes and I reach my hand out, waiting for him to take it.
His eyes meet mine and he mumbles incoherently. “Come on you drunk bum.” I state as me and Dima help him to his feet. I slowly begin to walk forward, his arm resting around my shoulder as I pass by our friends. “I’m sorry Zane, I’ll make it up to you.” I tell him as I give him a quick hug.
Much like Ilya’s, Zane’s eyes are glossed over, I know he won’t remember me not being here for the entire night, but he ought to have some form of explanation from me.
Passing Kristen I watch as she gives me that look once again as she sips her drink. “Stay safe, okay?” She calls out, holding her phone up. I’ve learnt over the time I’ve known Kristen that means ‘text me everything that happens.’
I book the Uber and stand against the wall of the bar with Ilya barely able to keep still. “Why’re you doing this?” He slurs his words as he turns to face me.
Letting out a sigh I shrug my shoulders. “Honestly, I have no idea.” A small laugh escapes my lips and I look up to see him a little bit closer.
“I always loved your laugh,” His words are clearer this time and he leans closer towards me. I step away as I recognise that expression on his face and quickly step behind him, taking a hold of his hair as he begins to throw up all over the sidewalk.
“And this is one of the things I loved the least.” I mutter as I see our Uber arrive. “You going to be alright to get in the car?”
He gives me a thumbs up as I wait for him to slowly climb in, his energy slowly returning whilst mine is diminishing. “Can we go get food? I’m hungry. How about we go to karaoke? Like old times.” He nudges me before he poorly tries to wink and I sigh loudly, pulling out my phone and ignoring his comments.
As we arrive back at David’s I open the back door, thanking the driver. “You two have a nice evening,” He calls out as I pull on Ilya to get out of the car.
“’M comfy.” He mumbles as he rests his head against the seat.
“I’m sorry, he’s not normally like this,” I excuse his behaviour, having momentary flashbacks to every time we went out like this. How it would always end with us in an Uber, me ignoring him whilst he begins to act out and slowly become a child again. “Ilya, move your ass.” My tone becomes harsher and he lifts his head silently complying as he opens his door and falls out.
I climb out, closing the doors before walking over and helping him to his feet as he remains laid out across the driveway. “Look at how pretty the stars are baby.” He mumbles and I straighten up hearing him call me baby. It was something that once made butterflies fill my stomach, but now I can feel them slowly emerging from a long hibernation.
“Come on, we gotta get you inside.” I reply, ignoring his words once again.
He kneels before reaching out to hold my arms as he gets to his feet, a daft smile plastered across his face whilst mine remains hidden from his view. “I miss your smile.” I listen to him talk clearly as I fiddle with the keys. “Your smile made everything okay.”
Closing my eyes I try to push it all back down, ignore what he’s saying as the lock clicks. “Well, aspirin and water will make everything okay.” I reply as I help him inside, placing him on the sofa whilst I hed to the kitchen for a moment to myself.
As I stand in the kitchen I look at my reflection in the glass doors. I can’t hide the tears rising in my eyes, the fact that I know he’s drunk and his words don’t really mean anything to him.
“Y/N/N?” He whines and I pause as I hold the glass of water in my hand as I feel a shiver go through me. “Baby, do you have any aspirin?”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I walk over and hand it to him, standing by him as I refuse to sit down next to him. I carefully watch as he fumbles to tie his hair up as he puts down the glass. He stares at the hair band in his hand before lifting it above his head, but every time he seems to miss some hair.
He glances up at me, pouting as he holds the hair band towards me. “Could you?” He sweetly asks and I sigh before taking it from his grasp and standing behind him.
As I tie his hair up he hums quietly. “You smell good,” He whispers before leaning back, his head just below mine as he smiles up at me.
“You smell like shit,” I respond as I straighten up and walk away.
Ilya sighs loudly before rising from his seat, proceeding to fall over onto the floor. “Why’d you do that?” He calls out. “Why must you shut me down like that?”
A scoff escapes my lips as I turn around to see him now standing up uneasily. “Because you broke us up.” I state and he looks slightly bewildered. “You’re the reason we can’t be together Ilya. This, this drunken behaviour is something else and it’s not safe. You, you couldn’t and still can’t control yourself.” My words slowly become louder. “I wanted us to work, but when you ended up in hospital,” I begin to mutter, unable to finish my sentence.
“I know,” He speaks up, taking a slow step towards me. “I know I was a complete dick and I still am. That I don’t deserve you as you’re so giving, so wonderful and considerate.” I try to shake off his words, but I can feel them sticking. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” He mumbles as he steps closer and I can feel his hand touching mine.
Shaking my head I pull my hand away. “You’re just drunk,” I mumble before walking away.
“I might be! But,” He calls out and I can hear his footsteps following me eagerly. “but that doesn’t mean what I’m sayin’ isn’t true.”
Sighing I step closer towards him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “If that’s true, tell me in the morning when you’re sober. If this, if what you’re saying is true then tell me again tomorrow.” I tell him before walking towards the studio, leaving him stood there.
“Guess the morning can’t come soon enough.” He yells as I close the door to the studio and pull my phone out.
Sitting on the sofa I can feel the butterflies returning after a long absence. I guess the morning will just have to wait.
#ugh I love writing ilya#tbh i just want to be with ilya#ugh#hes so#so#ilya basically#lmao#i hope you enjoyed#request#requested#imagine#imagines#ilya feddy imagine#ilya feddy#ilya feddy x reader#ilya feddy imagines#ilya feddy writing#in debt ilya#in-debt ilya#david dobrik#david dobrik imagines#david dobrik imagine#david dobrik x reader#david dobrik fluff#vlogsquad imagines#vlogsquad imagine#vlogsquad writing#vlog squad imagines#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad
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Universally Monstrous - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
It's Sherlolly Halloween. This year I'm playing around with short ficlets loosely based off the classic Universal Monsters.
Universally Monstrous
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
“The Quasimodo Killer?” Sherlock scoffed. “Really, John. That’s the best you could do?”
John leaned back from his laptop and glared at his friend. “He leaves his victims in church bell towers.”
“Mmm.” Sherlock shook his head and dropped into his chair with a disappointed huff. “Fairly short-sighted signature for a budding serial killer. There are only so many bell towers in the area.”
“Yet you still haven’t managed to catch him.” John returned to pecking at his keyboard like a frustrated bird as he continued to work on a rough draft for what would eventually turn into a blog post once the case was solved. “Six victims in eleven days and then nothing for a week. Maybe he’s moved on. If he is still around, I hope he holds off for another day or two. I’m supposed to take Rosie to a fancy-dress party with her play group tonight.”
Sherlock deliberately closed his eyes and steepled his fingers against his lips, a silent signal that he was done talking.
Seconds later an icy chill ran down his spine and Sherlock’s eyes snapped open. “Fancy dress?”
John nodded without looking up. “Yeah, I know. She’s three, seems a little young to be going full out already; but one of the mom’s is really into the whole party organizing thing, and Rosie picked out a unicorn costume with the most ridiculous sparkly rainbow mane.”
“What day is it? The date.”
John frowned at the urgent tone from his friend. “October 31st. Halloween.”
Sherlock sprung from his chair and scrambled to the window to glance at the sky. “It’s nearly sunset. Where is Rosie now?”
“One of the other playgroup moms offered to take her to one of those kid friendly beauty salon places before the party. You know, paint the nails and curl the hair, a little lip gloss, pamper the girls and call them princess.” John’s expression darkened even more.
The Consulting Detective pulled his mobile off the desk where it had been charging and began to pull up his contact list. “Call the mom, confirm she’s still with Rosie.”
“Sherlock?” John reached out and grabbed his friend’s arm as he passed. “What is it?”
“Something’s off. Something … feels off. Just call, John.”
“Yeah, all right.” John set his laptop aside and took his phone into the kitchen.
The first text was sent to Molly.
Let me know if anything interesting comes through the morgue tonight? Bored.
The next went to Lestrade.
Any updates on the bell tower murders?
The third was short and terse, and went to Mycroft.
Status?
Then Sherlock stood at the edge of the landing and loudly called down the stairs. “Mrs Hudson?”
He actually held his breath for the forty seconds it took to hear the sound of shuffling footsteps approach the door of the flat below. The door creaked open and Mrs Hudson answered, “Sherlock?”
For just a moment, Sherlock allowed himself to slump against the wall in relief. That’s one.
“Sherlock, did you need something?” Mrs Hudson called out again.
“Tea.” He pushed away from the wall and pictured the way Molly’s lips had pursed in disapproval when she’d heard him shout the same thing last time she’d come to visit. He leaned toward the stairs again. “Please.”
His mobile pinged as he moved back into his sitting room. Lestrade had replied.
You mean Quasimodo? Nothing new here. Do you have something?
That’s two.
He sent something noncommittal in reply and joined John in the kitchen. “Rosie?”
John held up his finger, nodding as if the person he was speaking to on the phone could see him. “Really? Sounds like she’s enjoying herself. Thanks again, Marcy.” He hung up and turned to face Sherlock.
“She’s getting a pedi, whatever that entails. I could hear her giggling in the background.”
Three.
While he should have been feeling relieved with each consecutive check-in, Sherlock found himself becoming more and more tense. The inexplicable feeling of dread continued to grow.
A full two minutes later his mobile pinged again. An equally terse reply from Mycroft.
Status of what?
Four, Sherlock thought. He ignored his brother and continued to wait for one last reply.
“Care to tell me what’s going on?” John nodded toward Sherlock’s phone.
“I don’t know. Not for certain. It’s just a feeling. An instinct. Something’s off, John. I can’t put my finger on it, not yet.”
John nodded. “Yeah, all right. So what’s next?”
Sherlock stared at his phone, as if he could will it to emit the soft little trill that signalled Molly’s texts with the force of his thoughts. “I’m waiting for one more reply. Where is she?”
“She?” John blanched. “Molly.”
“Obviously Molly,” Sherlock huffed. “Who else would-“
The mobile trilled.
Sherlock’s relief was extremely short lived.
It was Molly’s number, but he immediately knew the text hadn’t been written by his pathologist.
Ding dong, Mr Holmes.
Do I have your attention?
Ding dong. Bells. The bell tower murderer.
“Of course. That’s why he’s been quiet the last week. He’s been biding his time until tonight. How cliché.”
“You’re kidding.” John was suddenly at his side, trying to get a better look at the screen. “What the hell is Quasimodo doing with Molly’s phone?”
“I don’t know, perhaps his was dead and Molly simply loaned him hers.” Sherlock glared at the other man.
Even knowing it was mostly like a futile endeavour, he did ask about Molly. Ask expected, the bell tower murderer ignored his question.
Time to end this cat and mouse silliness.
I’ll send a time and place later this evening. If you wish to see your friend in one piece ever again, you will be on time. Come alone, Mr Holmes. I’ll know if you don’t.
He tried texting back several times, demanding to know where Molly was and if she was okay. No reply.
“You’re not going alone,” John insisted.
“Obviously. Once I have the location and time, you’ll contact Lestrade and meet me there.” Sherlock kept his expression as neutral as possible, even as he lied. There was no way he was going to allow John or any member of the Yard to put Molly’s life at risk. “Shouldn’t you be arranging for someone else to take your daughter to her party tonight?”
“Oh, God, yeah. Right. Maybe Mrs Hudson, she’ll understand.” John hurried down the stairs and Sherlock immediately grabbed his Belstaff.
He slipped through the front door as soon as he was sure John was busy with Mrs Hudson. He stayed in the general area of Baker Street. The bell tower murderer would most likely base his meeting time off the assumption that Sherlock was waiting at home; if he travelled too far in the wrong direction, he might not arrive at the appointed time.
It was just after eleven thirty when his mobile trilled. The message simply said five to midnight and an address.
Sherlock reviewed the street maps in his head and compared them to the average traffic patterns for that time of night. It would be close.
If you’re late she will die.
For one brief moment he considered alerting John, then shook his head and set off at a run down the nearly empty sidewalk. There wasn’t time to catch a cab and hope for the best.
He found the condemned church with two minutes to spare. The front door was cracked open, saving him from needing to find a way to break in. The interior was dark except for a few lit tealights that had been left like a trail of breadcrumbs leading him to a set of stairs.
To the bell tower.
Sherlock took the stairs two at a time until he reached the small room that housed the disused church bell. The room was open to the night on all four sides. It was obvious that the bell had been purely decorative for the last few years that the church had been in operation. The chimes would have come from a recording, the partially ripped out wiring in the ceiling would have belonged to speakers.
And there, huddled on the floor behind the bell, was Molly.
He wanted to rush to her side and pull her into his arms to shield her from the cold night air, but he needed to remain on alert while he looked for the man who had already murdered six people. Sherlock eased around the bell and knelt by her side, keeping his gaze moving as he peered into every shadow.
Her head lifted at the endearment. He chanced glancing down at her, needing to confirm she was going to be all right.
“Sherlock?” Her voice was thin and soft, and her eyes were wet with tears.
“I’m here, sweetheart. Can you tell me where he went, how long has he been gone?” Sherlock couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Finding Molly had been easy, far too easy. An obvious trap, but how would it be sprung.
“I never left, Mr Holmes.”
Sherlock’s eyes widened. He’d expected the words to come from the shadows, not from the small woman at his side. Her tone was firmer than before, harsher. Her expression twisted into something malevolent and cold.
“Molly?”
Molly grimaced. “She’s quite stubborn. Didn’t want to give up control, none of them really ever do, but she’s been more of a pain than the others.” Molly pushed Sherlock away with almost superhuman strength. He slid across the floor and into the balustrade opposite hard enough to hear something crack and knock the air from his lungs.
He huffed and rolled to his knees.
She rose to her feet and tilted her head to look down at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. You didn’t seem like the sentimental type the last time we met.”
Sherlock pulled himself up, using the railing for support. Judging from the sharp pain, he may have broken a rib. “Met?”
“Minsk. Belarus. You weren’t very polite, Mr Holmes. Leaving me there, in that prison, to hang for my wife’s murder.” Molly shook her head and tsked. “It’s okay though. Gave me a chance to meet some old friends of yours on the other side.”
“Friends?” Sherlock searched the bell tower, looking for anything he could use to defend himself. Although, when the time came, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to hurt her. No matter what was going—Spirits did not exist and people did not get possessed by the ghosts of vengeful ex-clients, did they?—she was still his Molly.
“You’re a popular man, Mr Holmes. You’ve made lots of people very, very angry. They’ll be so jealous when they realize I found a way back.”
Sherlock tugged on the railing, testing to see if it was loose enough he could pull part of it free to use as a club. “And how did you manage that, Bernard?”
“Berwick!” Molly growled. “It’s easy enough, when the time is right and you know the path. Found a priestess who wanted to visit her family. Took her place and crossed over instead. And now, after I take over you and kill your friend, I’ll be able to stay. Fitting revenge, don’t you think?”
‘I’ll be able to stay.’ There’s the clue.
“And if you don’t kill her?” The railing didn’t have much give, but the harder he pulled the more it creaked.
“Then I kill you. It doesn’t matter as long as the seventh dies before the last stroke of midnight. This isn’t the body I would have chosen, but it’s better than nothing. Who knows, I may learn to enjoy myself, she’s pretty enough.” Molly leered and reached up to cup her own breasts.
Sherlock hissed, “Don’t you touch her.”
Molly threw back her head to laugh and Sherlock made his move. He launched himself toward her, hoping to knock her down, but she was much more solid than she looked. She fought back and he found himself on the floor with her body holding him down.
Impossibly, the rusted church bell began to sway and a phantom clapper struck the side.
Midnight!
For one brief moment, the face above his softened and Molly was once again looking at him. “He’s panicking. Run, Sherlock.”
He reached up to touch her cheek as the bell continued to ring out. “I can’t. I won’t. I love you.”
Her head fell to his chest and he heard her sob, but when she lifted it again it was Berwick’s eyes that stared back at him. “Touching, but pointless.”
Molly’s hands wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. Sherlock thrashed underneath her, trying to throw her off even as part of his mind counted off the bell’s strikes. His vision began to grow dark at ten.
Then he was free, free to draw in air.
Molly was on her knees at his side, hands pressed against her head and her face twisted in pain. “No, no! I won’t let you do it!”
The eleventh stroke rang out.
She glared at Sherlock and snarled, “Stupid bitch won’t stay down. I’m out of time, Holmes, but don’t think you’ve won. There’s always next year.” She collapsed as the bell rang one final time.
Sherlock crawled to her side and rolled her over. She was breathing, which was a good sign. “Molly. Molly, sweetheart. Can you hear me?”
Her eyes opened and he sobbed in relief. “Is he gone?” she asked.
“For now.”
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part 49
♫♪ You're the light inside my eyes. You give me a reason to keep trying. You give me more than I could dream, and you bring me to my knees. You bring me to my knees. Your heart is gold and how am I the one that you've chosen to love? I still can't believe that you're right next to me after all that I've done~ ♫♪
Mmmmmm oh my god u stupid fluff babies.
With pedes carefully positioned, Novastrike allowed herself to slide down the slopping embankment’s loose surface. The ground beneath her felt like it was bucking and moving and she grinned, jumping just in time to clear Scorponok as he broke free of his furrows to leap forth from the ground in the air. Bare inches kept his drills from nicking Nova’s pedes as she hurtled him and hit the ground, sliding the remainder of the way down with ease as the bug threw himself backwards into the ground to start another tunnel.
Skipping lightly, the little femme came to a halt and looked up with a massive grin. Blackout’s dark optics were upon her with that endless look of equal measure bewilderment and humor. There was a smile on the corner of his mouth he continuously tried to hide or turn into a scowl with little success.
“Did you enjoy your way down?” Blackout rumbled with amusement.
“I sure did,” Nova chirped. “Faster than your way.”
“Then how did I get down here first?”
“You cheated and flew.”
“It’s not cheating if it’s a natural adaptation to my form,” the big mech countered.
“You call it a ‘natural adaptation’, I call it cheating. You know I can’t fly.”
“And I haven’t the build and low center of gravity to simply glide down a hillside,” Blackout sniffed.
Nova stuck out her glossia. “Coulda tried.”
“Ah, yes,” Satan agreed in monotone, “I would have enjoyed explaining to Guard how not only he but now I have a broken leg and likely a pelvis, and whatever else I may strain or fracture on the way down. Why don’t you try sprouting wings or rotor blades?”
Squinting her optics, the small femme allowed a pausing silence to fall over them. Blackout slowly raised an optic ridge.
“Are you trying to spontaneously grow wings?”
“Did it work?”
A deep reverberating snicker warmly escaped the gigantic mech. Novastrike felt her spark skip a few pulses as a wide smile instantly appeared on her face. Every note of his rich laughter was so purely genuine she couldn’t help but feel giddy herself. Sure, it wasn’t the most dainty of laughs and more of a malevolent chuckle one would expect from a nightmarish villain out to steal and corrupt your soul, but she loved it.
It wasn’t nearly as rare as he played it out to be either. But perhaps that was all a matter of both perspective and circumstance.
“You are a very interesting femme,” Blackout offered with a tone of admiration.
“Psst, I know,” Nova agreed with a sassy twist of her hips and flick of her tail. Though the attempt was clearly meant to somewhat coy, it didn’t quite reach the level as her ears lightly glowed with embarrassment.
As she turned her soft optics back upon the towering figure of shadows, she noticed that look in his gaze again. Novastrike couldn’t place a digit on when she’d first noticed it but it hadn’t been long. There was a tender look in his optics; a different, brighter sort of light as he looked to her that made the crimson colors lose saturation in the spheres of his studying glance. With that look of keen interest and compassion though was the slightest hint of indecision, like he was struggling to find the answer to a really hard question.
Picking up on the fact she too was studying him curiously as he looked upon her, Blackout cleared his throat abruptly. The half-smile on his face disappeared as he looked over to the hillside that she had just descended from to see where Scorponok had recently burrowed.
With one of her audio receptors bowing to the side slightly, Nova tilted her helm as she brought up a nagging question: “Do you ever wonder how different things might have been if I hadn’t helped you escape from that Autobot prison?”
Blackout turned his optics back upon her. The look of deep reverence and infatuation had left his expression already.
“I would have eventually gotten out,” Blackout pointed out.
“Would you have?” Nova pestered lightly.
A light and playful scowl flashed across the mech’s face. “You don’t think so?”
“I mean, I did take off one of your bonds,” she pointed out, “you had to be running low on energy and fuel by then already; you’d been down there for some time.”
“I’ve been in worse situations,” he mocked.
“I wasn’t any help at all then?” Nova pouted. “Not even a wittle itty bitty bit?”
“I won’t say you weren’t helpful,” he admitted slowly. “But I still think I could have liberated myself. You just sped up the process. As for how different things would be if you hadn’t aided in an attempted ‘rescue’, I can’t say. Any encounters we had thereafter may have certainly ended... differently.”
“You did pay me back by helping me escape from the Decepticons,” Nova pointed out.
“It seemed the right think to do,” Blackout mumbled, shifting his massive legs with a sign of discomfort.
The quirky smile on Novastrike’s lips grew a fraction wider. A very unusual statement for someone who never seemed to care what was morally sound or not before.
“Do you think we’d have gotten to this point if not for all that?” she asked quietly.
Blackout drew together his optic ridges in thought. For a brief moment, Nova thought for sure she hadn’t clarified enough and he thought she meant location, rather than situation. But he seemed to have caught on.
“I don’t know,” he concluded. “But the positions that led us here can not be changed. I am grateful, regardless.”
“Grateful?” Nova drawled out slowly, placing a servo to her chassis.
“Yes,” Blackout stated with a slightly puzzled look. “I’m grateful. I’m... quite honored and enlightened to be by your side. I can say with honesty that I would never have thought myself capable of enjoying a committed long-term interrelation. It’s remarkably nice.”
The pulsing light glow of Novastrike’s ears began to flood with heated energon and illuminate a harsher light. She gave a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat.
“So, you were more of a hook-up kind of mech?”
The remark caught the big mech off guard. His shoulders raised and stiffened slightly and he turned his gaze away.
“It was simpler that way,” he offhandedly grunted.
“And now you enjoy complicated?”
“You don’t make it complicated,” Blackout disagreed, drawing his optic ridges even closer together for a moment. That serene, tender look reappeared as he glanced down at her.
“It’s not easy to understand, but it’s...”
Novastrike leaned forward slightly as he struggled to find his words. His optics were shifting; light changing and colors moving from dull to bright and back again as he seemed to be working it over in his helm.
Or perhaps not working it over at all. He just seemed to be staring at her now, transfixed and mystified.
Novastrike raised a servo, and just as she began to wave it he blinked and grumbled something very faintly, so much so she couldn’t hear if there were actual words in the low tones uttered.
“Sorry, just thought you were having a black-out, Blackout dear.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” he thickly growled.
“As you were saying...?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just- an enjoyable experience.”
With the light slowly fading from Novastrike’s ears, she lowered her arm and placed each of her servos upon her hips. The on and off switches that mech went through always left her so baffled. One nanoklik he could be open and pleasantly affectionate and the next he was struggling to even look at her.
But she understood. Deep inside somewhere, she got it. He wasn’t used to feeling; emotions outside of anger and dark humor and a few stray here and there’s weren’t a part of him. They were foreign. Maybe once there was more than anger and violence in his reactions but who really knew how long ago that time might have been.
Trying to learn, or maybe relearn, how to express himself was an upward battle. It might even be one of the hardest ones he’d faced. She just couldn’t fathom beyond understanding the mechanics of why how long it would last or make him suffer.
“Hey handsome devil,” she purred gently, “you ready to head back for the Rising Star? I’m sure they’re done refueling by now.”
The obsidian mech’s optics flicked back towards her. “They’ve been done for a while; it hasn’t been too long since our refuel on Epads. But I don’t think Guard will be too hard on us if we stay out a bit longer. I’m sure some of the bots on the ship are still wandering around, stretching their limbs.”
Nova lifted an optic ridge questioningly.
A nefarious little demon’s grin crossed Blackout’s face. Shifting his weight, the massive mech took to one knee and offered out a servo to her.
She stilled looked at him skeptically. “What have you got in your processor, you rebel?”
“Come with me, and you’ll find out.”
Reaching out, Nova gingerly placed her digit against Blackout’s. “Oh, how daring and romantic~”
Waiting for her to climb on, Blackout reached up to tap the comm system on the side of his helm. “Scorponok, we’re going to be away for a while. You still remember where the Rising Star is, correct?”
Appearing pleased with the response after a silent pause, Blackout turned his attention back onto her. His digits curled slightly around her as he moved to stand. As Novastrike glanced him up and down from her knelt position against his digits, Blackout raised his free servo to his mouth, indicating silence.
“Don’t move too much,” he offered. “I’ve only tried this once before.”
“What do you-”
Panels of metal began to shift forward. The sound of armor decompressing hissed quietly as Blackout began to transform. Novastrike could only dare to move an arm to slap it over mouth to keep from making anxious squeaks. Sharp sections of hardened lustrous cerametal barely missed skewering her; heavy sections of thick plating moving just inches from possibly crushing her.
It both a terrifying experience as much as it was fascinating. She could only imagine how much faith Blackout had to have in her not to move and damage him to be willing to do this. It took away a little of her nausea as she was carefully shifted around all the mobile pieces of his frame.
After a few nanokliks of movement and rearranging, it was over, and Nova found herself sitting in the interior floor of Blackout’s alt-mode.
“Well, that went better than expected,” a familiar intimidating voice echoed through the spacecraft. “Last time I nearly removed Scorponok’s tail.”
Ears perked, Nova swiftly lashed her tail around and into her lap, inspecting it for damage.
A deep chuckle flowed through Blackout in response.
“I seem to be in one piece,” Nova agreed, her voice shaking a tiny bit.
“My apologies for startling you,” the mech formally expressed.
“No, don’t apologize-” Novastrike swiftly responded. “I was a bit- taken off guard, but you’re okay. That was pretty cool, actually. I’m sure it took a lot of concentration.”
“It did.”
“Was your nifty little trick all you had to present to me then, show-off?”
A growl vibrated through the canopy of the vessel. It was quickly cut off by the sound of the engines humming to life; thrusters warming up in the back with a roar before tapering off into a kitten-like purr.
“It was my more impressive showcase,” Blackout admitted, “But I thought we could go for a little drifting in space. I can show you more of the cosmos.”
“Oooh you know fireballs from light-years away makes me weak,” Novastrike joked, slowly moving to test her pedes. Good, she wasn’t too shaken up not to be able to walk over and take a seat at the sole chair in the entire ship at least.
“Was that sarcasm?”
“Maybe a bit, but I do truthfully enjoy star-gazing. I never did get to learn too much on the constellations and other planets. Autobot’s weren’t too concerned with teaching; the war was more of a priority.”
An uncomfortable stillness followed her words for a moment.
“Right,” Blackout hedged, sound slightly vexed.
“Does that bother you?” Novastrike prodded, digits lightly caressing the arm of her chair as Blackout began to lift off the ground.
“Yes? No? Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Maybe it just bothers me because it’s you.”
“Oh do go on, you soft-sparked sweet talker.”
“Hush,” Blackout responded in a slightly flustered, agitated tone. “I may not have had the best years of my life prior to the Decepticon/Autobot confrontation, but even I wasn’t without ways to obtain reading material. I got very little from... my masters, outside of a mild education so I was intelligent enough to read and write and do my work efficiently but not smart enough to pose a threat. But I had a starting place, even before I had the credits to purchase my own material and get my own training.”
“Your masters?” Novastrike faintly repeated.
It seemed a less favorable topic, as Blackout responded in an edgy voice, “Yes. I was bought and sold a servo full of times to different masters. Gambled. It all depended on who wanted what I possessed the most, or who feared me the most.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“It was life.”
“They feared yet, yet they owned you?”
“Of course. The wiser ones knew to fear me. They knew what I was capable of; a hulking mech like myself that could carry enormous loads and handled hot slag regularly.”
“I can’t believe there were bots that thought that was even remotely ethical. You our your own bot. They had no right to enslave you.”
“Things have not changed much since then,” Blackout quietly stated.
There was a distinct emphasis in his words. Something about it made it seem like he’d been thinking on this for a while.
“How so?” Novastrike curiously asked, wondering on his take.
“Well, take you for example. I do not mean this in a hurtful way, darling, but... you were one of the final sparks granted from the Well, and you had just as much right as I did to make your own life. Instead, you were slapped in a frame, abandoned, picked up, told what to fight for without knowing why, given a gun and told to fire.”
“The Decepticons are not blameless either,” he went on. “There are plenty of bots who were forced into their line of work. Given no other alternative. Placed in the smelted remains of other Decepticon bodies thrown into a pit and forged into a new frame, and told to fight. I’ve seen some of those mechs go absolutely mad. They’d claim they heard voices; that sometimes their appendages would act on their own.”
Shuddering violently, Novastrike reached across to wrap her arms around herself for comfort. Her optics clouded over; pale blue and a darkened pupil. She blinked slowly, taking in the cold depths of space as they shuttled out of the atmosphere with hardly any turbulence from the thin atmosphere.
“That’s so sad,” she whispered.
Blackout didn’t respond.
“Blackout, dear, I hope you find what you deserve in life,” Nova murmured, changing subjects. “You deserve to make your own path. Make your own choices, decide your own fate, fight for your own beliefs.”
A hum moved through Blackout’s form softly. “Funny, I thought I was doing just that.”
“Oh?” Nova brightly inquired. “The Rising Star’s really grown on you, huh? I guess it must have; you wouldn’t still be here, and now with a job otherwise...”
“I was referring to you.”
“Of course you were,” Nova stated in a muffled voice, trying to shrink down into the seat as her blushing ears flattened against her helm.
“You’re so easily embarrassed. It’s adorable.”
“Yeah, well, so are you.”
“The universe says otherwise.”
“What do I care what the universe says?” Nova challenged.
Blackout spoke solemnly as he stated: “You do not have to. I never cared for what the universe said. But it is not wrong.”
Frowning deeply, the little femme gave a shake of her helm. “You shouldn’t think so badly of yourself, otherwise you’ll come to believe what you think.”
“Likewise could be said to you, Nova, my dear,” Blackout reminded her. “‘If the world thinks you’re a monster, what does it matter? The world is wrong. But when you start to think of yourself as a monster...’ “
“It infects your mind,” Nova offered. “What’s that from? I feel like I’ve heard that passage before.”
“Doesn’t matter. It holds true. The universe and everyone can think as they wish, and a stronger bot can shrug it off. But when you think of yourself one way, it ends up becoming impossible to see it in any other light.”
“Does it matter that I care what I think of you?” Nova offered softly. “Does it matter that I want you happy?”
“More than you realize.”
She smiled at the softness of his voice; the relief that settled somewhere in his processor just from the way his tones changed and the rough exterior of his usual voice left him.
“Good. Because your happiness means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me,” Novastrike felt her audios glowing brighter as she feverishly finished, “And no matter where you came from, what you did, and what comes next, I know you can get through it and I hope to be there for you, come what may.”
Giving a slight twitch of her ears, Novastrike could hear the barest sound of a song playing. It was nearly impossible catch but there it was; a thunderous dark tune playing. It sounded distant and far away. But there should be no music here, no sound other than those coming from each other out here in the empty vacuum of space. Unless...
“‘Yours is the light by which spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars’,” Blackout quoted gently.
Mumbling softly, the small femme reached up to place her servos over her ears to hide her shameful blushing. “Since when did you read poetry?”
“I haven’t, not in a century at least. Strange what you pull from me that I wasn’t even aware still had a place in my processor.”
“Never saw you as the romantic type,” she teased.
“Maybe I’m just light-headed from leaving the atmosphere so quickly.”
Nova rolled her optics at the remark. “Nice try, but there was hardly an atmosphere to breech.”
“It was simply a quote, nothing more,” Blackout disagreed nervously. “I was only adding to the mood. Besides, maybe space debris hit me while we were leaving. You don’t know. It’s a great mystery.”
“You rose through literally a thin blanket of particles and light with very little gas,” Nova deadpanned. “Your excuses are terrible. Oh Dark Lord of the Night, I regret to inform you that you’ve got a sappy spark.”
“‘Though my soul may be set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved a star too fondly to be fearful of the night.’”
Novastrike went quiet, too stunned to respond. Even Blackout seemed to be caught off guard by his own playful musings.
“Right,” Blackout gruffly remarked after a span of a few minutes, onlining the star map screen to the side of his viewing console. “Lets start with Scorpii, shall we?”
Nova was too stunned to agree or disagree. In fact, the entire time they spent drifting out in space, she couldn’t seem to shake off a single word that buzzed around in her helm. She only hoped it was too obvious how distracted she was by her own contemplating; completely oblivious to the mistake in the quote to even realize it was there.
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