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aladyofgoodtaste · 9 months ago

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A Court of 'It's giving beauty & the beast' and 'Except you can't tell which one is which'

Spring is rotting away. Not just its Court but across the lands as well. Without it, there can be no new beginnings, no rebirths and nature itself will cease to a halt. And thus Fates dictate that a human and a broken Fae must create a miracle together.

Tamlin thinks that the Mother is cruel for the salvation of his home requires another human’s help while Juno curses whatever entity that Isekai’ed her into this shitty ass book series.

AO3

Chapter 3: We’re getting rid of toxic masculinity with this one

1 down, 6 more to go. In the meantime, Lucien & Tamlin re-ignite their bromance

CH 1 | CH 2

The most unimaginable horror has struck within the Inner Circle of the Night Court.

Everyone who is important has gathered outside the River House's healing room, finally waiting for the doors to open. No one would admit it, but they’ve all been counting down the hours, and when they turn to days, the worst starts to sink in. Ultimately, the High Lady puts her foot down and orders them to start taking shifts. Each of them has a role to play in this Court; thus, they can’t simply abandon it.

Today marks the third day since then.

When Cassian drops by after breakfast for his shift turn, he’s surprised that almost everyone is standing guard before the door. “Any news from Madja?”

“She did the impossible,” Azriel replies against the wall. He had the night shift and, thus, was the one who called everyone to be present. “Madja somehow manages to pull Amren from the brink of death despite her… injuries. She’s now been put in an enchanted sleep to stabilise her.”

Feyre bursts into a grateful sob, to which Rhysand immediately brings her into his arms. Elain claps her hands to thank whatever deity out of there for their mercy. Prince Varian slumps hard on the couch. Mor sighs in relief though her expression is still troubled, while Cassian’s tensed shoulders are lax just a bit. It was at that moment the doors finally opened. The Night Court's most trusted and capable Healer emerges. Her ancient figure appears weary as if she’s aged another decade.

“How is Amren?” Rhysand instantly inquires.

Madja sighs, exhaustion creeps into her very bones. “Alive, for the better or worse. Your Second-in-Command’s healing magic can no longer support itself so I had to siphoned most of mine. I did whatever I could to straighten every broken bones and patched up any excessive internal healings.”

“How bad is she?” This time, it’s brave Feyre who asks. The rest of their courtiers are content to follow their lead and listen attentively.

“I won’t mince words, High Lady. Throughout my years as a Healer, this is one of the most horrifying cases that I’ve ever seen.” Madja begins with a look of disgust, and it chills Feyre. “From what I can tell from Lady Amren’s injuries, she was thrown off the House of the Wind’s stairs that it utterly mangled her body. Then there’s an issue with the internal tears on the lower half of her body. There’s no way to say this, but she was violently gang raped, beaten and healed continously; the bruises, semen and handprints were obvious enough. Lastly, she was burned alive; perhaps as an effort to dispose the body? If that’ was the case, the perpetrators used a large quantity of alcohol because the scent lingered. Unfortunately, I can only managed to heal the scorched marks on her legs and arms. The face was too severe for me to do anything but mend Lady Amren’s nose and eyes.”

Elain’s face is green with nausea. She quickly excuses herself for the bathroom while the rest struggles to accept Madja’s report. Feyre and Varian are beyond stricken - the prince runs into the room, inconsolable. Mor is sick to her stomach, and Azriel and Cassian close their eyes; such violence shakes even them.

“Thrown off the 1000 steps, beaten, raped, healed and burned alive,” Rhysand repeats emotionlessly, his face tight. “In that order?”

Madja inclines her head. “Yes, High Lord.”

“Thank you. For updating us and everything. Please do whatever else you can to help Amren recovered.”

The Healer bows and returns to the healing room. To continue the treatment and console Varian. The doors shut once more, and that’s when Feyre pitifully exclaims, “How in the Mother’s name could this have happened!? It’s Amren! Amren, for goodness sake! She’s the second most powerful among us after Rhysand!”

Azriel grimace. “I’m still investigating it,” He was the one who found Amren a couple of nights back. The sight of her became his most recent vivid nightmares lately. “By all accounts, this doesn’t make sense. Amren hasn’t left her apartment at all ever since she got her hands on a rare magical tome. We all are aware of it; she could barely hold herself back from bragging about it.”

“And she personally wards her apartments,” Cassian reminds them, brows furrowing. “No one should be able to enter without her explicit consent or if it’s one of us.”

This new mystery doesn’t bode well for any of them, especially Rhysand. If someone as powerful as Amren could be assaulted right underneath his nose, it means his position as a High Lord is faltering. Not to mention their security risk is now at an all-time high. Velaris should’ve been completely safe from outside threats and with Azriel’s constant presence and shadows, the city is basically assassin-proofed! Doubt begins to seep in. “I’m afraid there’s a powerful enemy roaming within Velaris as we speak,” Rhysand announces, making everyone’s attention turn to him. “Since Amren is my Second, I’ll personally take over the investigation, Azriel. There’s something else I’d rather you look into in the meantime. For now, no one goes anywhere alone. We need to make it a habit of telling each other where we’ll be going from now on. Feyre darling, it will set my heart at ease if you stay here and close to our son. This is the safest place in the entire Court.”

Feyre nods, and a fierce sense of determination burns in her. “I’ll have Elain stay close. It’ll be good if Nyx is familiar with her aunt. Speaking of which, you need to inform Nesta of the situation, Cassian. I know she’s been making progress with her Valkyries, but it’ll be better if you and her could live her for a couple of days until our unknown threat is dealt with.”

“Of course. I’ll fly Nesta in as soon as I can.” Cassian replies.

They easily divide themselves up afterwards. Cassian wastes no time flying back to Illyria for his Mate. Mor joins Madja and Varian in the healing room. Feyre goes to find her sister and son. That just left Rhysand and Azriel who reconvene in the High Lord’s private office.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asks as soon as the door shuts behind him. He studies Rhysand’s features carefully.

“Unease? Concern? Take your pick, Az.” Rhysand sighs. “Amren has always been untouchable. To find out that she was debased like this…” He trails off, unsure how to say it. If this new threat could easily assault his Second, then it won’t be long before he’s next in line.

“It’s a horrifying wake up call for sure.”

“Amren will pull through; she always has. In the mean time, we can hand this sick bastard on a silver platter when she wakes up. Now, tell me about the leads.”

Azriel’s head slightly jerk to the side, breaking off eye contact. It’s as if he’s ashamed, and that couldn’t be right. “The shadows whisper a lot of things but nothing reliable lately. All I know is that Amren was reading when the attack happened. The layout of her apartment remains just as she left it. Whoever this is, stealth is their utmost speciality. Ward manipulation as well.”

Rhysand runs his fingers through his hair, he can feel frustration bubbling up. “Right. That’s better than nothing. Although investigation is not my strongest suit, perhaps I can detect some foreign magic among her hoards.”

Azriel silently wishes his brother all the best of luck. “And what do you want me to do?”

“Your newest assignment is the Spring Court. I want you to look around for a bit; figure out what Tamlin and his new Mate are up to. She mentioned a strange word during the High Lords' meeting. I’m worried if it might be some kind of weapon.” Rhysand explains, deep in thought. He truly thought he had seen the last of Tamlin, content with the belief that the pathetic High Lord would waste his days away in exile. For him to appear with a Mate in his arm sends off every alarm bell. He’s certain that Tamlin is planning something insidious once more.

“Understood. What do you want me to do about his Mate?”

Rhysand recalls what Feyre said to him. “For now, don’t show yourself to her. She’s human. Feyre dislikes her attitude when she tries to warn the female about Tamlin. She’s ungrateful, rude and strange. It sounds like she and Tamlin make the perfect pair.” He snorts. He can’t imagine any female that can put up with Tamlin, Mate or otherwise. If only he Winnowed earlier…

The two continue discussing the finer details of Azriel’s new mission for about 2 hours. Once the Spymaster is properly debriefed, Azriel excuses himself. He’s about to seek out Mor first before leaving the River House, only for a voice to stop him:

“Is it true? Does Tamlin have a Mate?”

When Azriel slowly turns around, there’s Lucien. He’s dressed as impeccable as well, with his red mane in a ponytail. “Doesn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to eavesdrop, fox?”

“Why would I bother to eavesdrop on your very important meeting with Rhysand?” Lucien counters, rolling his eyes. “I just came back from the Wall and wanted to confirm something. Rumours has it that the High Lord of the Spring Court made an appearance during the latest High Lords meeting with a human. Is it true?”

“…It is.”

Azriel watches as an indescribable expression takes over Lucien’s face. He glares at him. “It would be unwise for an emissary of the Night Court to meddle with the affairs of other Courts.”

“Is that a threat, Spymaster?”

“Take it as a friendly warning,” Azriel suggests. Unlike the rest of the Inner Circle, Azriel is still incredibly wary of Lucien, and like hell, will he ever underestimate this Fae when there are still so many things that they don’t know about him. Especially with his intention on Elain, no matter what he claimed. “The situation is becoming dangerous. You wouldn’t want to end up on the other end of someone’s pointed finger.” The implication is clear - any suspicion activities or behaviours from Lucien would mean his newest living quarters to be in the dungeons. And with that, he stalks deeper into the House. Done with the conversation.

Lucien’s mouth presses into a thin line.

He knows what happened to Amren and hears of the monster hiding in the city. Personally, staying in Velaris and keeping the populace ignorant is a horrible idea. Still, he has a feeling that Rhysand wouldn’t announce anything just so he could maintain any semblance of control when in reality, anywhere is safer than the Night Court right now, and Lucien has always been a survivor against all odds. The Spring Court and its High Lord were once his home and friend, and now with such deep bad blood running between them, would he survive Tamlin once more?

He makes his decision.

“When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive? It wasn’t hard to realise. Love’s the death of peace of mind.” Juno sings using the broom as a makeshift microphone. She’s currently cleaning the master bedroom. Or at least she was.

Today marks the third day since Tamlin disappeared.

She tries not to feel guilty, it’s a feeling akin to slimy tar. She did nothing wrong! She told him about her powers as soon as she got the hang of it and was genuinely honest when she said she would never use it maliciously against him. That should be enough to prove that she’s not like Amarantha… right?

Juno sighs and stops sweeping. Having a conscious can be a pain in the ass sometimes. No longer in the mood, she strides over to a wholly intact dresser where her phone is blaring Bad Omen’s playlist. “Shit, 60% already? And my power bank is dead AF. I really need to stop using my phone so much.” She mourns the inevitable loss of her screen time. Should she start journalling whatever notes she has about ACOTAR somewhere? No, no - she doesn’t want the deal with the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. At least her phone is password-protected. Oh! That reminds her, she needs to have another serious talk with Tamlin about protection against Daematis and she has just the most hilarious contingency plans!

“A man needs his space. That’s what they always say, right?” Juno muses to herself. She’s torn between searching out for Tamlin and staying in the manor. The magic has been returning to him nicely ever since Tamlin has been training and taking care of himself again, so she’s not worried about him (and she doubts she would ever be, to be honest). “I guess I can give him one more day. We really need to start tackling the Rot soon, though. Democracy is way overdue.”

Suddenly, there’s a sharp ripple in the air, and Juno finds herself no longer alone.

“He was right…”

Juno props her arm on the broom and the other one on her hip as she greets this stranger. “Red hair. Cute eye. Handsome face but not as tall as Maedhros. You must be Lucien - now this is a surprise.”

Lucien tilts his head. “Tamlin told you about me?” He didn’t expect that. He fully resigned that whatever friendship they had before had become painful memories - even the good ones. Lucien also didn’t expect such nonchalance from Tamlin’s human. But Feyre was also once a human. That was a painful lesson Lucien had learnt.

“No.” She beams. “So what brings you back to the Spring Court? Finally missed your bestie?”

She’s strange, evidently so. Lucien has never met a human this blasé, as if she has no care in the world despite that he just came in out of nowhere. Has she gotten used to Prythian and, by extension, Fae-kind? Feyre’s initial hatred of them makes her transition period difficult, not to mention that her life was in danger the moment she killed Andras. Another ghost of the past that Lucien will forever carry. “Curiosity leads me here,” He decided and carefully looked around. The manor is still in a horrible state of disrepair, but judging from the broom, she and Tamlin have been cleaning up. The thought oddly makes him relieved. “You know my name but I never did catch yours.”

“It’s Juno. Just Juno. If you want to talk to Tamlin then you’re out of luck. He’s been wandering somewhere for a few days now. I would play the part of a good host and offer you tea or some shit but we don’t have them right now.”

“No, that’s alright,” Lucien hastily replies, his hand raised to stop her. He’s not sure if he even wants to see Tamlin again just yet. “Thank you for the offer. I just…” He shuts up, conflicted with his wants and emotions.

The human female hums. “I can hazard a guess that you weren’t just curious about little ol’ me. You want to know how Tamlin is doing. Some guilty conscious perhaps? Now that’s a bitch and a half. Well, you can either help me clean up as we wait for the Beasty to return to his lair or vamoose back to whoever you came from. I’ll update Tamlin that you drop by. Heh. I always wanted to use that word - vamoose!”

“You’re unlike any human female I’ve ever met in my travels,” Lucien can’t help but admit. Fascinate and wary at the same time. “The way how you carry yourself and speak are foreign to me. How did you ended up in Prythian?”

Juno throws her hands up. The broom clatters on the floor. “Fuck it if I know! Now are you staying or what? I could use some handy air magic to move the rubbles.”

Lucien supposed he could discover what Tamlin had been up to through his Mate. If he’s lucky enough, Tamlin won’t return for a few more days.

“Sure. Where do you want me?”

“The wing where you guys kept that Mayo Muncher, Yoghurt Yoddler - whatever. Tamlin gave me the green light to do a total makeover when I asked so you’re gonna be my sledgehammer.”

“Did… did you mean Feyre?”

“Sorry! I keep forgetting her name. Now let’s go! I’ll answer any questions you got. Seems that’s a trend with you Faes.”

Unbeknownst to Lucien and Juno, Tamlin returns on the same day. Having had enough of wandering aimlessly and with nothing but the Rot as far as he could see, he made peace with more things in his life. While moving forward is incredibly difficult, he owes it to himself and his Court. It’s not about redemption, but finding means where you can be at peace in life. That there’s a viciously petty goddess in human form living with him for the foreseeable future. All in all, not a lot to work with, but it’s high time Tamlin starts somewhere. With that newfound determination, he made his way back home. When he passes through familiar landmarks, he can hear loud noises from somewhere in the manor.

Panic grips his heart. His every thought turns to Juno.

Still in his beast skin, Tamlin leaps inside and rushes to the wing where the walls incessantly haunt him and old paintings he couldn't bear to destroy nestled in various corners. When he notices the redhead beside his human, Tamlin’s claws immediately dig into the ground, grounding his tracks. Lucien immediately spins around and places himself between Tamlin and Juno, flight or fight instincts taking over. His eyes widen when he realises that it’s the High Lord.

“Tamlin? You’re back! We didn’t expect you.” Lucien greets hesitantly. He glances at Juno, who nods before stepping aside.

The Beast transforms into a Fae. Despite wearing a set of loose white shirt, a pair of brown pants and long blond hair wild, Tamlin is ever the picture-perfect image of a prince. “Lucien. Never thought I’d see you again.” His eyes glance at Juno. He doesn’t know what to feel when she shakes her head.

Lucien, for the record, scoffs. “The feelings mutual. The last time we spoke, you were more beast than Fae. There was nothing that I said that could get through you.”

Tamlin takes a step back, his hands ball into fists. Seeing his reaction, Lucien ducks in shame.

“Ok. Y’all need some real talk,” Juno decided, eyes shifting from the two of them. “Get it out of your system but please don’t destroy anything, alright? It’ll be a bitch to clean up afterwards. Actually, wait. Go stupid, go crazy; if this entire wing blows it, it’ll be easier for us to build something new!” She gives them a thumbs up and skedaddles without looking behind.

“Your Mate is something else.” Lucien says in apropos of nothing. “She’s not the kind of female I imagined for you.”

Tamlin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He wants to correct his once best friend that the Mate thing was just a ruse so that they could easily dupe the other High Lords and their own Mates, but since they no longer have that trust between them, he instead replies, “Did she forced you to help her moved the rubbles?”

“In exchange for information,” Lucien answers without shame. “Though it were mostly about her. I sensed that she speaks the truth but then again, I’m not Morrigan. It doesn’t help that most of her words makes no sense to me.”

“It’s just how she is,” Tamlin settles instead—his demeanour changes, opting for a more serious stance. Slipping into the role of the High Lord has long become his second skin. “Though the fact that an emissary of the Night Court not only trespassed into my home, he was also in close proximity to my Mate. That’s a crime that deserves death. Did you forgot, Lucien?”

The redhead slowly shakes his head, sorrowful, given his history. “Never, High Lord.”

“Then why are you here? Did Rhysand send you?”

“No. No, Tamlin. I came here on my own accord.”

“Why!? Why now and not… not before!? Not after you left me for good!”

“I just need to know that you’re doing alright!” Lucien shouts, his voice thick with despair. “You were my friend, Tamlin! You gave me a place, a home, when I lost everything I knew! I will never forget what you did for me. And to me. You lost yourself so quickly that no matter what I did, I couldn’t reach out to you anymore. I tried, Tamlin; I did! But you were so hellbent on drowning in your emotions that I could hardly recognised you. And then after what Feyre did to the Spring Court ever after I told her that we needed you as an ally - ”

Tamlin swallows roughly. Feyre was the breaking point, shattering whatever he had left - pride, reputation, respect and a long-time friend. But it wasn’t all Feyre’s doing in the end, was it? He’s mature enough to admit that. Mother, what a situation they find themselves in. “I’m sorry.”

Lucien’s jaw is instantly on the floor, gobsmacked. Go big or go home, Juno muttered that once when she tried - and failed - to follow Tamlin’s easiest recipe for a lemon cake.

“I’m sorry. I-I regretted hurting you the most. You were a good friend to the very end. May you found someone worthy of your trust and affection.” A knot untangles in Tamlin’s heart. A burden released finally. It doesn’t matter if Lucien refuses to accept his apology. It’s a closure that he never knew he needed. Though he feels slightly lighter, he’s also tired. When will he truly be free of exhaustion?

“Thank you,” Lucien says when he finds his tongue again. “That means a lot to me. Is your new growth thanks to your Mate?”

“Please, that woman is many things. Vulnerable conversations isn’t one of them.”

“Ah. I reckon she’s a handful?”

“That’s a gross understatement…” Tamlin mutters. He clears his throat awkwardly. “If you’re not here on Rhysand’s orders then it’s not safe for you to be here, Lucien. His paranoia knows no bounds.”

Lucien nods. “Watch your back, Tamlin; your Mate’s too. I fear a new threat is upon us. Oh, and you didn’t hear this from me but a certain Spymaster might be lurking around soon. Remember; you didn’t hear it from me.”

The thought of Azriel snooping around, looking for his weaknesses and potentially sabotaging what they’re trying to do should enrage Tamlin. Instead, he’s not bothered by it. Not anymore.

“I appreciate the heads up. My Mate will handle it.”

Azriel lands in the middle of a forest of the Spring Court.

The moon hangs high in the night sky. It’s not as pretty as the canvas above Velaris.

It’s dead silent, Azriel notices. Even the nocturnal animals are nowhere to be found, which kicks the Spymaster’s heightened senses into overdrive. He purposely avoided landing anywhere near Tamlin’s manor as a precaution; better to play it on the safe side in case the High Lord is roaming around in his Beast form. He tried asking Elain if she Saw anything out of the ordinary, but all she gave him was Tamlin and Juno cooking dinner together. Azriel couldn’t imagine someone as feral as Tamlin to be so domesticated, but he wisely kept that to himself. He thanked Elain for the trouble, though.

The dry leaves crunch underneath his boots as Azriel emerges from the looming forest. The shadows that dance behind the trees whisper all sorts of things to him:

“Sick. Sick. The lands are so sick.”

“One with us. The Beast is one with us.”

“The young can no longer grow.”

“The winds of change carries vengeance with them.”

Concerning but not useful at the moment. He scrutinised his surroundings; nothing but a barren wasteland as far as the eye could see. The landscapes are hardly recognisable that for a brief moment, Azriel wonders if he’s even in the Spring Court. Everything is either dead or dying.

Azriel begins his reconnaissance as methodically as possible - taking in every detail he can see before making his way to the manor, mindful to keep to the shadows in case of any surprises. Unfortunately, one surprise did catch the Spymaster off guard.

He was so focused on the world around him that he failed to notice the thick tree stump 3 steps before him, causing Azriel to slip and fall hands first into a pile of animal faeces. It’s still warm. He curses his luck; he’ll never salvage his pride again if Cassian and Rhysand know about this! He quickly regains his composure and flies to the nearest lake to wash off. It didn’t take long for him to find it.

The lake's surface is murky grey, intensely so even when reflected by the moonlight.

“Azriel… my sweet boy. Will you turn around and look at your mother?”

He stops washing his hands. Blood runs ice cold as he realises the gravity of the situation.

“My son… can you hear me? Please, just… turn around so I can see how much you’ve grown.”

His leathery wings tuck close by instinct, a habit of curling himself small so he could fit on his mother’s lap when he was a boy. Azriel’s body shakes as it takes his entire willpower not to turn around.

“Azriel? Oh, sweetheart; I forgive you for abandoning me. You just need to TuRN aRoUND.”

More voices from all around him. More Bogges closing in on the Illyrian - surrounding him. The very air ripples with malignant intents. The hair on the back of his neck raises in alarm when he feels phantom claws running down his arms. A mockery of his mother’s hug. This doesn’t make sense! He thought that there were none left in the Spring Court!?

“Azriel… are you going to be just like your father? Turn around if you still love me. Turn around!”

He can’t fight the Bogges. Not in their intangible form, and acknowledging them will mean instant death. Shit, shit! He needs to fly away; he needs to retreat -

Cold, wet hands suddenly grab his. He instinctively jerks away, but it’s too late - a swarm of deranged water-wraiths cackled as they drag him to a watery grave. Sinking and sinking and sinking, the surface is getting farther and farther away as the wraiths attack a struggling Azriel. They claw his face, gnaw on his legs and dig into his torso, tainting the already filthy water with blood. He manages to draw his sword, but his swings are slow as they cut through water while the monster deftly dodges his every attack. Some even mocked him. When a pair begins pulling at his wings, panic and pain set in. His brain asks him a question: Die via drowning or consumed by Bogges?

Azriel chooses neither. With a powerful burst of his wings, the pressure pushed the water-wraiths away just enough for him to swim back up and into the sky. He has to retreat - he needs to - his injuries are too deep, and one of the Water-Wraiths manages to claw him in the eye. He can’t heal on land where the Bogges await their meal.

It’s with deep shame that Azriel fly back to the Night Court. His mission is abandoned for now.

In the manor in the distance, Juno watches the speck of black dot vanish between the stars. She raises a glass of water in his direction.

“Better luck next time, Ass-riel.”

#lady writes #fanfic #acotar #anti ic #anti sjm #pro tamlin #modern girl in prythian au #cw: rape #cw: violence

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taelovesjohnny · 1 year ago

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muted ( the outsiders) chapter 1 Late At Night

here is another story I’m writing with a friend!

I was walking home, it had been a long day at work. If your wondering, I dont go to school anymore. yes I got parents, and yes, they dont really approve but i didn't give them a choice. So anyway, im walking home, my muscles are sore. And im awaiting the fluffy pillows on my bed. My name's Millie. Millie curtis. Im 15, the only girl in the gang. i have 3 brothers, Darry, the oldest one he's strong handsome and very protective of me. Sodapop, he's 15, movie-star handsome, and the brother i can tell anything to. Last but not least Ponyboy, the youngest of all 4 of us, he's 13 loves movies, and books. and my parents, very nice people. they care for everyone that turns up on their doorstep.

Im almost 2 blocks away from home, just passin' a dark alley way, when I here footsteps behind me. I turn around and see it's a greaser boy. He's wearing boots, a leather jacket, and jeans. I get along good with other greasers. Most everybody thinks im gorgeous, not me. I think im just a typical, average girl. I keep walking. not thinking anything of it. Suddenly, i feel his hand on my shoulder. I spin around, and look up at him. Im short around 4 feet 4 and I hate it. have to look up to everybody.

so this dude starts to kiss me. i try to push him back, but he has a strong hold on me. I've never seen this guy in my life. What kind of person does this. I mean, socs i can understand, they do this to everybody. But greasers?? I thought we were better than that. He's trailing down my neck, I'm trying to get out of his grip. I can't, which is kinda' surprising, I am strong for a person my size, and i can pack a good punch in a rumble. I guess this new dude, has done some serious weight lifting.

" GET OFF!!" I scream.

"Now baby, why would i do that, you have such a pretty face, i can't resist."

" Your're sick!"

" Hold still, or im gonna do something we're both gonna regret."

" Please, I beg you, please don't do this."

But I knew that it was hopeless, once somebody had a person, they could do whatever they wanted, espeically to girls. The next thing i knew, he had pushed me into the dark alley. And pushed me to the ground. God Dammit. I didn't have my blade. But he did. He took it out, and cut my clothes off, and rolled me to the corner of the alley. It smelled like cat poop, and trash. But that was the last thing on my mind. His blade was trailing down, from the bottom of my ear, to the bottom of my neck. silent tears were rolling down my face. He was now naked and trusting himself on top of my and r@ping me. I didn't know how he could do both things at once, but he continued to cut me and r@pe me. and all i could do was lie there. I struggled for a good portion of the begginning but now my strenght had gone. I don't know how long he was there but it felt like hours. When i finally got off, he silently put his clothes back on.

" Bye, Bye Kitten,I hope to see you 'round again"

and then he spit in my face. I was left there, no strenght, no clothes, and friends or family near. I just layed there, in the mud. Hopefully my family would get worried, and come look for me. Hopefully. I dont remember when, but at some point I went into an uneasy sleep. It was filled with nightmares.

Dally's Point Of Veiw.

I had just moved to Tulsa, Ok. My parents had abused me ever since i was born, and i finally had the sense to run away. Not that they cared. They probably didn't even know i was gone. I had packed up and moved out. I was living at a bar, no problem, i was used to the noise. Anyway, It was a dark night, perfect to go find so trouble, or make some. I was walking a long a street, when i spotted a girl, just perfect to be messed with. She looked innocent enough. I had the erge to make her life miserable. I dont know why though. Maybe she reminded me of my sick mother. who always acted like she was god or something.

At one point I was blinded by rage, and put my hand on her shoulder, the next thing i knew, i had her down on the ground. And i was r@ping her. The thoughts going through my head were mercyless. She deserves it. I didn't care how fucked up her life would be after this, I just needed to let go of some steam. when i had finished, i threw on my pants, and told her

" Bye, Bye Kitten, I hope to see you 'round again."

and with that, I walked off. back to the bar. to go get drunk

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cs-and-bellarke · 2 years ago

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Bellarke- Love isn't weakness

Prev / Next Part

Chapter 17

Bellamy's P.O.V

“I was wondering if it was okay if Clarke stayed for the weekend?”

“I guess,” I say.

“Hey, I know she hurt you but she’s just not ready and trust me she likes you a lot...she’s falling for you hard she just needs time” she tells me, like I’m going to believe that.

“Right, she falling in love with me and I’m rich”

“I’m serious Bell, she is falling for you hard”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it from her”

“Fine be a jackass, I know she hurt you but you don’t realize that by you acting like this hurts her too, you can be an ass for all I care and I am going to go to bed and leave you out here to think about what you want and what you need and what you need is to get your head out of your ass” she says and storms out of the room.

Maybe she’s right, well right about me being an asshole, it did hurt when she backed off but I should be nice because she did just get out of a bad relationship. She can’t be falling for me. Come on, it's me, but I know I’m in love with her and I want to be with her even if it is for a short time.

Clarke’s P.O.V

The last thing I heard Octavia say before she stormed into the room was her calling Bellamy an ass and telling him to get his head out of his ass. About 2 hours later I was still awake and Octavia started kicking me and so I went into the living room where I found Bellamy on the couch running his hand through his hair like he was stressed about something.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked him

“Yeah, what are you doing up?” he asks me back.

“Couldn’t sleep, you?”

“My mom wants to come home and it feels like my world is falling apart”

“I think it’s great that your mom wants to come home but what do you mean about your world falling apart”

“I’m just stressed and my mom is still really sick and the hospital called me and told me to come in and talk to her tomorrow”

“Well I’m sorry, and I’m sorry about yesterday, I didn’t pull away because I don’t feel something for you because I do, I just got really scared”

“I understand, yeah it hurt but you just got out of a relationship and so did I, and right now we are in high school and you don’t believe in love so, it’s fine”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love it’s just...when Lexa died I didn’t believe what she said and then Finn hurt me then I started to believed it...so if I don’t live by it I feel like I’m letting her down” I tell him while trying not to cry.

“Who’s Lexa?” he asks while putting his hand on mine.

“You know how I said my sister said Love was weakness”

“Wait I just thought of this but if you had a sister doesn’t Murphy have 2?”

“No, well kinda but Lexa isn’t his sister, Anya is his half sister other than me. And before you ask, Kane had another child after Murphy that is not my moms, anyway Lexa was my dad’s first child and she killed herself when I was 13” I told him while not looking at him.

“Hey I’m sorry and no wonder you don’t like going home” he says.

“Yeah, the only reason I live there is because of Murphy, he’s the only one who wants me”

“I want you”

“Bell...you’re sweet but I…”

“I know but it’s true I want you and you think you're nothing when you are everything and people want you, me, Octavia, the gang, Murphy, and even your dad before he died. Just because your mom is a Bitch along with her man slut and his daughter, and even spacewalker doesn’t mean you are nothing and it doesn’t mean you are unwanted”

Before I could stop myself my lips were on his and a simple kiss turned into a passionate one very quickly, the kiss sent my bones on fire and I didn’t want to stop but I knew I had to so I pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have but no one has ever said something that sweet to me that is so untrue”

“You think it’s untrue really, do you want me to get everyone together and ask them because I will” he says with a pissed off face.

“No, but I feel like I’m nothing, I just think…”

“Stop it, please it breaks my heart when you say this about yourself”

“Bellamy I don’t…” he stops me by kissing me and this time I don’t pull away. We kiss for a few minutes then he pulls away.

“You are not nothing, and I’m sorry about what happened with your family and if you need to get away you always have the Blake's, okay?” he says.

“Can I move in then”

He laughs and I hug him not wanting to let go, he made me feel safe and he hugs me back, having his arms around me makes it harder for me to not jump his bones even though I have never had sex before. He just makes me want a future with him because he listens and he is so kind to me when he doesn’t have to be at all but he is.

“Why are you being so nice to me, I’m your little sister's annoying best friend” I asked him.

“You're not annoying, you are like the only one I know that I don't want to kill, and I’ve been beating myself up for falling for my little sister’s best friend” he says.

“You didn’t answer my question, why are you being so nice to me”

“Because I can”

“That’s not an answer”

“Yes it is because I said so”

“Really?” I ask with a sarcastic look on my face.

“Yes,” he says with a smile.

“I’m sorry about your mom”

“It’s fine, but I told her about you and she said that she remembers you and that you would be a perfect match for me”

“I hate to disappoint her”

“I have to see her tomorrow do you want to come with me, and yes Lincoln will be here tomorrow with O”

“In that case I would love to come”

We laugh about how much we hate it when Octavia is with Lincoln and how much we either want to kill them or ourselves. We talked for 2 and a half hours and when I looked at the time it was 3:30 in the morning, I can’t believe I have been talking to Bellamy Blake for 2 and a half hours straight, and I love talking to him, I also feel like I’m more best friends with him instead of O.

“We should get to bed, it’s 3:30am, and doesn’t it feel like we are closer friends than me and Octavia?” I asked him.

“Sometimes, but don’t tell Octavia about that,” he says. “And your right we should get to bed, goodnight Princess”

“Goodnight Bell”

He goes to his room and I fall asleep on the couch and when I woke up Bellamy was in the kitchen making food. It was 11:30am and I can’t believe he is up and making food for me and Octavia, he is so amazing and it’s really hard to just be friends with him.

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years ago

Text

Sifu Hotman

zuko x water tribe sibling!reader

request - I want to request a Zuko x fem reader being Sokka and Katara's sister. She can be the older sister or sokka's twin sister. Also when they start dating Sokka and Katara can like threaten him by saying don't hurt my sister or else.

A/N - This is taking place after the war, I'm vaguely uncomfy writing for underage people (or like younger than 17) so I just went ahead and aged them up. I'm sorry if that's not what you were wanting! I'm also sort of ignoring the plot of the comics and stuff and we are ignoring Mai's existence. I don't feel like this was my best writing by any means but i tried and i thought it was a cute idea. There will probably be more zuko x reader coming soon

word count - 2000

MASTERLIST

You took a deep breath in, the warm air refreshing after having just spent the last month in the southern water tribe with your family besides Katara who was off saving lives with Aang. Your twin brother stood beside you, his hair grown out and tied into a ponytail. Your sister would be here in the fire nation in a week with Aang. It had been three years since the war, you had just been kids at the time. You and Sokka were 15 during the last battle and you had felt so old then. Now, looking back, you had been immature and childish but you had grown up. After the war ended you remained in the fire nation for a few months. You had wanted to get a little bit of quiet before you started going on more adventures with your brother.

You had been very close with Zuko while he was traveling with you and the gang. You didn't know why but you trusted him, maybe it was because you trusted Toph's judgement but either way you had accepted him quicker than the others. You remembered how cold the rest of the group had been to him and it almost was funny to you now considering that Katara had just told you a story in a recent letter about Toph, Aang, and Zuko getting into a bickering match about fire flakes that ended in Toph trapping both of the boys into a earth tent. It was also hard to comprehend that Zuko was the new Firelord and he ruled over a whole nation.

It had been 2 years since you saw Zuko in person. It wasn't on purpose but you kept getting pulled in different directions, none of them leading you into the fire nation. You were excited but also scared to see him, butterflies filling your stomach at the thought of seeing him. You'd had a bit of a crush on the new Firelord when you last saw him but you refused to tell either of your siblings, knowing that they would threaten him to high heaven before he even knew about it.

Your brother walking beside you calmed you a bit, his presence being comforting to you. He was much taller than you now and he was more confident than the kid he had been during the war. You knew that the same was true for Aang, though he never grew up in personality. As you approached the gates of the palace you wondered if Zuko had changed.

You realized that he had as the gates opened and he was stood on the steps up to the palace waiting for both of you. His hair was long and it was pulled into a messy bun. His scar was no longer shrouded in his bangs and he seemed more confident in his stance. His robes were long and elegant and you wondered if he wore them by choice of if they were required because of his position. Your brother jogged slightly to get to Zuko faster, having grown to hold a strong bond with the man. You walked calmly but there was a smile on your face as your brother and Zuko embraced. Once the released each other Zuko turned to you. You noticed him gulp a bit and a blush threatened to cover your cheeks. Your grin became wider the closer you got to him and soon you were wrapped in his embrace.

You noticed that his frame was larger. You leaned your head back from the hug to look at his face and he looked well. Like he was happy and maybe even getting enough sleep.

"Hey there, Sifu Hotman." You smiled and Zuko rolled his eyes as he released you from the hug.

"I see we haven't matured in 2 years?" He grunts but you can see the smile trying to creep onto his face. "Toph still calls me that too." He grumbled lowly and you started laughing.

"Where is the little demon?"

"She's away dealing with some prisoners for me. She should be back in a week or so." Zuko smiled. "She's taken up a pretty important role here. She's like my personal lie detector. She likes to sit in on council meetings and scare everyone."

"I think that's actually her dream job." You smiled and Zuko hummed in agreement. There was a bit of a silence as you and Zuko just gazed at each other. He seemed so sure now. You had missed him dearly.

"Okay! Let's get this show on the road, people!" Sokka yelled and you internally groaned that he had to ruin the moment. Before you all turned toward the palace, Zuko sent you a wink and you felt a blush cover your face. As you headed up the steps of the palace you felt a comforting hand on your lower back as the Fire Lord gently followed behind you, Sokka running ahead of you, likely to find the food in the kitchens that he was accostomed to spending all of his time in.

"Can I speak to you in private when we get a moment?" Zuko asks and again your heart rate picks up. You turn your head to look at him.

"Of course" You smiled and he smiles back at you, making your head spin a bit. You spent the next few hours meeting new advisors, getting a tour through new parts of the palace, and catching up with Zuko who seemed to be acting more clingy than you had ever remembered him to be.

"Y/N, would you mind coming with me?" Zuko asked and you turned to face him with a smile.

"Of course!" You chirped as he led you to a secluded hallway away from your brother who was discussing war strategy with an advisor of Zuko's.

When you reached a place where you were out of earshot of others Zuko gently took your hands.

"I have something to confess." He stated and you felt fire on your cheeks, you nodded for him to continue, "I'm in love with you. I have been for years and I've never acted on it because there was always something going on and I was so unsure but now-" he gazed into your eyes with sincerity, "I couldn't be more sure. I want to be with you. If you'd have me, that is." Instead of answering you jumped forward, pressing your lips onto Zuko's in a searing kiss. He groaned and pushed back, trapping you against a wall. He pulled away to press his forehead into yours and you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again and gazing at the man in front of you.

"Katara is gonna kill you." You mumbled and Zuko smiled.

"You aren't worried about Sokka?"

"I just know that Sokka can't win in a fight against you. Katara on the other hand..." you trailed off and Zuko looked offended.

"That's pretty rude to say to the man who just confessed his love for you."

"I'm just being honest. Toph might have some words too."

Zuko shuddered at the thought of what they could do to him. Sokka would be upset but he could probably handle it. Aang would be happy for both of them he was sure, always the peacemaker and moderator. Aang would probably be the only reason that Katara wouldn't attack Zuko immediately.

Over the next week you snuck around with Zuko, taking alone time any chance that you got. Sokka rarely let you get any peace as he stayed with you nearly constantly. He was always a little on the defence with you and he would likely settle in and ease up over the coming weeks as he got used to the new environment. You were never a huge fighter, though you could hold your own. You also couldn't bend. You were the one of the group who took care of everyone, you were the smartest in strategy by far, and you were the only one who could reason with Toph. Because of this, Sokka had gotten used to just being near you in case anything happened, though it was rare that anything did. You appreciated it normally but now you wanted time alone so that you could spend it with Zuko as you got used to being in a relationship that was more than platonic. But today was the day that the rest of the gang was arriving, even Suki would be joining you so you hoped that would take some of the clingy-ness of Sokka away. You all stood at the front of the palace, much like Zuko had stood for you a week earlier, and watched as Appa approached in the distance. He flew gently in front of you and as soon as he landed in front of you he licked you with his giant tongue and you were covered in slobber. Despite this you couldn't be happier to see the giant animal and you embraced him. You were suddenly pulled away and brought into the arms of your little sister.

"I missed you, Y/N." She mumbled into your neck and you smiled into hers, it had been so long since you had seen her and you felt tears come to your eyes at the relief of having her near.

You spent the next hours catching up with Katara and Aang, who had grown to be taller than you since you last saw him. Toph and Suki arrived that night and you were all glad to be together again at last, old memories coming back and filling you all with joy. You and Zuko looked at each other and you took a deep breath. You had discussed that you would be revealing your relationship to the rest of the group when you were all together but you were nervous for their reactions.

"So... I have something I would like to tell you guys." You stated and all of the conversation died down, all eyes suddenly on you. "Me and Zuko are together." You rushed out and you only got blank stares for a moment before there was groaning from Toph and Sokka.

"You couldn't have waited another year? I didn't think you would have figured it out by now." Toph grumbled and pulled some coins out of her pocket, Sokka doing the same. Suki and Katara held out their hands and money got dropped into them, both with smug looks on their faces. Zuko looked over at you and had the same look of shock that you likely did.

"What?" You mumbled.

"We all knew you were going to get together of course, you've been pining after each other for years, but me and Suki said you would be getting together this month and Toph said in a year. Sokka actually said in 3 months so he was closer than Toph was." Katara stated simply and you still just stared at her, mouth agape. "We also talked about the fact that if he hurts you," Her gaze shifted to a nervous looking Zuko, "we would all be committing some crimes."

"I feel like I should clarify that those crimes include maiming and murder." Sokka glared at Zuko and he gulped.

"But I'm so happy for you two!" Katara exclaimed, her attitude shifting completely. You and Zuko stared at each other in shock and then you smiled at him. You were so happy to finally be together and to have your friends around you.

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may-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A Debt

summary: nat is the leader of one of the most deadly mobs in town but when she takes you to be her next victim, she has second thoughts.

warnings: kidnapping, mob, mentions of murder and death, mob!nat

pairing: mob!natasha x reader

rating: 18+

word count: 1,838

a/n : sorry im a whore for cliffhangers, hope you enjoy and please do tell me if you want a part 2

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

masterlist

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

all you could see was black when the cloth had been tugged over your face and it muffled your screams. you could hear as the deep voices talked but you couldn’t decipher where they had been coming from. you knew that the person behind you was strong enough to keep you in place but that didn’t stop you from trying your hardest to escape but of course to no avail and quickly you had been shoved into the car, heading god knows where.

all the questions you had glowing floating around in your head had been quickly answered when you were ushered into somewhere before someone had guided you to a chair and quickly shoved you down and in a second the cloth that was covering your eyes was ripped off.

“tie her hands.” and in seconds your hands had been zip-tied to the chair. before you could even adjust your eyes to the bright lights, a girl stood in your view. it had all happened so fast, you had just wanted to go home and sleep off the day but instead you had been in some random house and had no idea what you had done wrong.

your lip quivered lightly but you tried your hardest to straighten out your expressions. “she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” a man’s voice spoke up from behind the woman and she was quick to roll her eyes.

your eyes wandered around the neat house, there had been nothing insight for you to break free, and honestly, you hadn’t even known how you could escape this so instead you met the woman’s gaze. “hello dear.” her voice was raspy and her accent deep, despite the circumstances, it sent spines down your spine. you couldn’t find your words as tears clouded your eyes, you tried your hardest to stop them but they rolled down your cheeks freely and the woman had pouted down at you.

“darling this is nothing personal, strictly business.” you sniffled lightly, your gaze snapping down to the ground. “does she not speak?” a man’s voice snapped causing you to jump lightly. the woman sucked her teeth before yelling at him in a different language.

“why me?” your voice had come out shaky and hoarse but they were just been glad that you were talking. the woman pulled out a chair so she could sit directly in front of you, her gaze never looking hers. “your father is one of that most wealthy men out there...” she paused for a moment, trying to word her reasoning properly. “and we figured, if we had his precious daughter, he would quickly cut us a nice check.” your eyebrows knitted together, feeling yourself begin to shake. “what happens if he doesn’t?” your question had sat in the air for a while before a man from behind the woman spoke up. “you die.”

the call to your father had been short as expected and it seemed to leave everyone in shock. you hadn’t expected much from the man, he had always been selfish and when they mentioned their price. he was quick to tell them that he didn’t have that kind of money to spare and hung up the call. so now Natasha had sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the phone that was in her hand.

“so how are you gonna kill me?” your voice had come off much colder this time and it left Natasha speechless for a moment. “he has 48 hours.” the woman uttered and you let out a gentle breath, already accepting your fate.

——- ——- Natasha was the one in charge of keeping an eye on you after all she was the leader and if she was honest, she never trusted her gang much especially when it came to looking after you. she watched as you shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair, trying to lean your head back to get any form of rest but to no avail. Natasha had never really had to wait out an entire 48 hours with one of her victims, their families had always come through and the transaction would be over 5 hours tops but now she was forced to stare at you, feeling a sense of pain for you.

she had never been as heartless as she seemed, of course, she was trained well enough not to get her feelings involved but even her chest burned at the coldness of your father. how could anyone treat their child like that? “I don’t know how you expect me to sleep here all day.” your voice had come off much more confident than before and it made the woman perked up quickly.

she pushed herself up moving to stand directly in front of you, fishing a pocket knife, you could flinch away causing Natasha to suck her teeth. “relax.” she muttered, quickly cutting the zip tie and letting your hands go free. “don’t you dare try anything,” she uttered before gripping your forearms and tugging you through the large house with her before you were pushed into a room.

the bed looked neatly made and the pillows were fresh, the room was painted white and the room reeked of fresh paint. you wondered how many other times the woman did this exact thing with other people. Natasha gave you a gentle shove towards the bed and you didn’t hesitate to take a seat, feeling the soft mattress under you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, toying with your fingers as the girl took a seat on a chair in front of the bed. she nodded quickly, the woman had not taken a proper look at you since she had met you and she secretly wished she had met you under different conditions. “are you gonna kill me?” you asked the woman lightly causing her frown to deepen. “you’ll know when we cross that bridge.”

“I’m not afraid to die,” you uttered out to the woman causing her eyes to meet yours for a moment. “I just thought it’d end differently.” you rambled watching as she cocked her head to the side. “why are you so sure you’ll die?”

“you don’t know my father.” she hadn’t known how to reply to that. there had been some sort of awkwardness in the air and Natasha wished she could just run away from it cause it made her cringe so deeply.

“no one coming to help me.” her heart burned from your statement, she needed you to stop talking before she found herself comforting you. she felt choked up, she knew if anyone knew how was feeling, she’d lose all her respect but dear god did she pity you right now and it was all her fault that you had even been put in this situation. why couldn’t she had just targeted someone else?

you took her silence as a sign that she had enough of your talking so you kicked off your shoes and settled into the soft bed, wrapping yourself in the fresh blanket.

Natasha watched as you drifted off to sleep, her thoughts had been running miles per minute. if Natasha had to kill you because of your selfish father then she would never be able to live with herself. that had been the bottom line and Natasha knew she could never do that.

Natasha felt foolish, she had never thought twice about having to kill someone so why had it been so hard for her to even imagine having to hurt you? Natasha rose from the chair, leaving you to sleep. she had been quick to make a call, feeling her heart pounding with anticipation. she knew tony would know what to do, he had always been wise. “Natasha, hey,” he spoke softly causing the girl to let out a gentle sigh.

“I need your help, tony.”

fear settled at the bottom of your heart when men rushed into the room. you had jumped awake, trying your hardest to fight off the men that had been trying to grab you but everything had seemed to die down when the man stuck a needle into your arm and in seconds your eyes fluttered closed and your body had grown leap. “just take her home.” tony let out a soft sigh before nodding slowly. “I got you, kid.”

the next time your eyes had fluttered open, you had been in the safely of your own home and your bed. it had always felt like a fever dream, you had been confused but overall you were just be relieved that it was over.

—— as much as Natasha wanted to forget that you even existed, her mind had often raced back to you. she had wondered what you had been up to if you were okay. she found herself outside your apartment almost every night making sure you got in alright. she wanted to run up to you each time she saw you but instead, she would grip her steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles would turn white.

it had taken her a couple of weeks to musks up the courage to let herself into your apartment, it had been unlocked much to her surprise and she took a seat on one of the love seats. she knew your schedule and she knew that you should be home any minute but she still felt her heart pounding when she heard the doorknob turn and when you entered, her breath had became caught in her throat.

you hadn’t seemed shocked that she was there, it was almost as if you had been expecting her. she watched carefully as you set down your purse and keys. “your door was unlocked.” Natasha finally spoke up, gripping at the seat arms. “I know.” you muttered with a gentle laugh. “why have you been watching me?” you asked softly, crossing your arms and staring down the woman.

she couldn’t help the warm blush that appeared on her cheeks before she grinned lightly. she hadn’t even known what she could say in this situation but she had quickly gotten up from the couch, inching her way over to you. “why was your door unlocked?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side. you hummed lightly, shaking your head “I asked you first.”

“I wanted to see you.” her boldness made your cheeks turn a bright pink and Natasha quickly took notice. “and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” a sweet smile formed on her plump lips before she continued.

“why was your door unlocked?” she asked again, feeling a sense of accomplishment when you stumbled over your words, leaning against the wall as she stepped even closer to you. “I wanted to see you too.” she hummed lightly, bringing her hand up to your cheek, caressing your cheekbone softly. Natasha leaned down to meet your lips but you quickly turned your face.

“I need you to do something for me.”

#natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #the avengers #avengers #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you

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veilder · 3 years ago

Note

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Soul-stealer Part 2 (Final Part)

The aftermath; Arthur and the Gang fret, and Merlin wakes up to find that a lot has changed in a few short days.

Part 1

Unsurprisingly to Arthur and Lancelot, the moment they open the door, they are met by a gaggle of scared and desperate looking knights, all babbling at once and demanding answers.

Gwen had also joined them at some point. Whether someone sent for her, or she just happened to be awake, the two men don’t know, but don’t really care enough to ask.

Arthur just rubs his eyes tiredly, shutting the door behind him. Lancelot notices the King’s exhaustion and worry, and subtly steps in front of him, happy to deal with the talking for now.

He gives the others a placating smile and holds his hands out, gesturing at them to be quiet:

“He’ll be fine, he’s just exhausted. Gaius says he probably won’t wake up for a few days. We’ll post some guards right outside the door, and he’ll send for us if anything changes, for now, we should all get some rest; we still have to report to the council in the morning, no matter how worried we are.”

Percival and Elyan give shaky smiles, but trust Lancelot’s words, and traipse off in the direction of the knights’ quarters. Leon nods, but looks to Arthur worriedly, and steps around Lancelot to put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur looks up at him in surprise, but pats the hand on his shoulder and gives the First Knight a reassuring, though weak, smile. Leon returns it, and with that, he follows the others down the corridor, heading to his own chambers.

Once he turns the corner, Arthur’s gaze drops to the floor again, and he leans against the wall behind him, clenching his hands tightly in an effort to stop the shaking.

Gwaine and Gwen are a little more reluctant to leave.

Lancelot was well aware that Gwen knew about Merlin’s magic (not that anyone else knew that, least of all Merlin), and he sends a loving smile to her in comfort. She weakly responds with a smile of her own, before nodding her head slightly at Gwaine.

Lance’s smile drops as he looks to the other knight, the man in question being the most serious and withdrawn either of them have ever seen him before:

“Gaius promises that he’ll be fine. We can’t help him if we’re exhausted, Gwaine, we need to get some sleep.”

Gwaine lets out a long breath, gulping before seeming to sag slightly, looking to the floor as he mumbles an agreement. He allows Gwen to squeeze his hand briefly, before he gives the two of them a tight smile, and walks stiffly the way Leon, Elyan, and Percival had gone (after sending an out-of-character concerned glance Arthur’s way. The King doesn’t notice).

Gwen sighs and gives Lancelot a fond, reassuring smile. He raises an eyebrow at first, but then nods in understanding, glancing back at Arthur before walking tiredly towards his and Gwen’s shared chambers.

The woman waits until the knight has turned the corner, before finally turning around to face The King. He looks up at her, his face tense and eyes teary, and she sighs, before pulling him into a hug.

He tenses at first, but she squeezes tighter, and begins running a hand through his hair softly, ignoring the sharp pain of his armour digging into her skin. Arthur finally relaxes, accepting the comfort of a friend, and hugs her back, burying his face in her hair and trying desperately to stop himself from crying.

Gwen lets out a deep breath, and mumbles comfortingly in The King’s ear:

“You have to trust Gaius, Arthur. Merlin will be fine.”

Arthur tightens his hold on her, thumping his head against her shoulder softly in frustration, before saying:

“I know, that... that’s not the point, I... I’ve been so wrong. How could I have been so wrong for so many years? How could I let Merlin be so scared?”

Gwen bites her lip, taking a few moments to respond, not once loosening her hold on her friend:

“You couldn’t have known, Arthur. Everything he does, he does to protect us, you.”

Arthur finally pulls away and slumps against the wall, tightly wrapping his arms around his middle in a display of vulnerability that Gwen has never seen before, but will never mention to anyone.

She steps back, understanding implicitly that what Arthur needs now is a comforting presence and a listening ear.

The King stays silent for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before he roughly shakes his head and huffs, looking up at Gwen:

“I know that. I think I’ve always known that. But what else don’t I know? What other lies did my father ingrain into my head? How many innocents have I killed, how many people are scared of me, because I allowed myself to be fooled by my father’s apparently misplaced hatred?-”

Tears finally overflow and his voice cracks as he continues:

“-He was so scared, Gwen. When we got him back in one piece, he... it didn’t matter what we had said to him earlier, he was so scared. How did I let that happen? It... It’s Merlin, how did I not notice that Merlin was so constantly afraid?”

Gwen leans against the opposite wall, gripping the front of her dress tightly to stop herself from fidgeting. She lets out a deep sigh, glancing briefly to the floor before meeting Arthur’s gaze once more, tears in her eyes:

“We all missed it, Arthur. Merlin is... a master at deception, lying, hiding his pain. I catch glimpses of it sometimes, I think we all do. A bruise here, an odd excuse there, the occasional mournful look on his face when he thinks none of us are looking. But Merlin has always been there, for all of us. He’s just this... constant, reassuring presence, ready to help or comfort at a moment’s notice. We all rely on him so heavily, I don’t think we even notice sometimes; none of us wanted to see the cracks, none of us wanted to see how sad, or scared, or angry, he was. So we didn’t. We all failed him, Arthur, but now? Now, we’re all going to make it right.”

She finishes with a firm nod, her voice stronger with her decisive last sentence. Arthur gives a resigned sigh, still looking doubtful, but before he can respond a look of realisation crosses Gwen’s face, and she tilts her head, speaking softly:

“You love him, don’t you?”

Arthur tenses his jaw slightly, almost denying it with a scoff, but instead, he sags once more and rubs his eyes harshly with the palms of his hands before looking up at her:

“Yeah, I... I think I do, I think I have for a while. And I didn’t even notice until he looked me in the face, and all I could see was how scared he was. Of me. Of what I... what he thought I would do to him. He’s the kindest, least evil person I’ve ever met, and I’m the one that made him that afraid. What does that say about me, Guinevere?”

Gwen just sighs. She knows Arthur is a good person, but there is also no denying that he was wrong in his persecution of magic, and how do you comfort a man who has just realised the atrocities he has unknowingly supported? Committed himself?

She steps towards him again, taking his hand and pulling him from the wall, settling a soft kiss to his cheek:

“Come on, Arthur. Lets get you to bed. Lance is right, you’ll still need to speak to the council in a few hours and you can’t do that whilst you’re dead on your feet.”

Arthur gulps, and sends one last worried, longing glance to the door behind him, Gwen just chuckles fondly:

“I’ll wake you up slightly early so you can check in on him before the meeting starts, how about that?”

The King finally sends her a smile that looks, though weak, genuine, and nods his head. With that, Gwen leads her friend to his chambers, quietly turning down his bed and getting a fire going as he retreats behind the changing screen.

She works slowly, dallying around the room. It goes unspoken, but both of them know that she won’t leave until Arthur is settled in bed, and she’s certain he will stay there once she goes. He finally crawls under the covers, and his exhaustion shows clearly; his head hits the pillow and Gwen barely has time to sweep the hair away from his eyes before he’s spark out, sleeping fitfully.

She sends one last concerned look towards her friend, before stifling a yawn and leaving the chambers, softly shutting the door behind her and eagerly heading to collapse in her husband’s arms

Gaius was, of course, correct in his assessment that Merlin wouldn’t wake up for a few days.

That didn’t stop Arthur from checking in multiple times a day, someone else in the Gang usually joining him.

Unfortunately, Arthur’s sudden announcement to the council that he fully intended to legalise magic, whether they wanted him to or not, meant he was stuck in meetings all day when Merlin did finally awake.

Gwen and Elyan were sat at his bedside when he opened his eyes. He’d been moved to the bed in his own room, once Gaius assured everyone that he was in no danger; said Physician was bustling around in the next room, busy as always, trusting that Gwen and Elyan would fetch him if Merlin’s condition changed.

Gwen felt the twitch in her hands and looked from her brother to Merlin’s face in concern, to see his eyelashes fluttering, before finally opening blearily.

She gasps, and squeezes Merlin’s hand tighter as she glances up at Elyan, quickly telling him to go fetch Gaius, and to send the guards to find the others.

The Knight runs a calloused but soft hand over Merlin’s forehead before rushing out of the room. Gwen doesn’t pay attention to the hushed words being exchanged on the other side of the door, not even looking up when Gaius bursts in, various potions in his hands.

Merlin groans quietly; Gwen lifts her other hand to cup his cheek and leans over him, smiling.

Gaius takes the chair Elyan had been in as the knight walks back in, nodding at Gwen’s questioning gaze. Merlin groans again, waving his other hand around aimlessly, seeming to relax when Gaius takes it in his own.

Gwen chuckles at him slightly, and Merlin’s confused, tired eyes find her as she softly speaks:

“Welcome back Merlin, you had us all worried. Arthur is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be here soon, I’m sure. He and the knights have been fretting endlessly.”

Merlin’s eyes close again as he smiles slightly, but they open wide a second later, a panicked look on his face. Elyan, from his spot stood behind his sister, leans over, putting a soft but forceful hand on his shoulder as he tries to sit up, and speaks quickly:

“It’s alright, Merlin. We meant what we said, you’re perfectly safe. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got a lot of questions-”

Gwen looks back at him disapprovingly, and swats his leg with her hand:

“-but we’re just glad you’re ok. Get better, you can tell us all about your secret heroics later, alright?”

Merlin relaxes, lifting a shaking hand to pat Elyan’s own softly, nodding and giving him a weak but grateful smile.

Elyan returns it, before quietly telling Gaius that he’ll wait for the others in the main room, and silently walking out the door. Merlin, now with a little more energy, coughs slightly before mumbling:

“How long was I out?”

The two of them help him into a sitting position, Gwen quickly taking his hand again as Gaius uncorks the first of three potions, and answers:

“Your soul was... ah, reassembled in the evening of Monday. It’s now Thursday afternoon of the same week. Drink this.”

Merlin takes one whiff of the potion after nodding, and grimaces as he tries to push Gaius’ hand away. The Physician just raises a challenging eyebrow, and Gwen tuts; Merlin rolls his eyes in response, taking the potion with a huff and gulping it down in one, a disgusted look on his face.

He takes the other two in quick succession, knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse; Gaius’ Eyebrow of Doom, he could just about manage to resist, but Gwen’s disapproving and worried gaze could never be endured for long.

He was rewarded with a goblet of water and a pat on the back from Gaius, and another friendly smile and squeeze of the hand from Gwen.

The servant opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, he tensed up, tightening his hold on her hand as his now worried gaze moved to the door.

Gwen frowns at him, stroking his hand gently as she says:

“Merlin? What’s wrong?”

Merlin just gulps, glancing at Gaius quickly before looking to Gwen, and then back at the door:

“He’s coming, I can feel it. Arthur.”

Gwen relaxes again, back to smiling as she shakes her head softly:

“You have nothing to worry about, Merlin. He’s spent the last three days on a warpath against the council, trying to repeal the ban on magic. That is, of course, between bouts of panicking about whether you were going to be ok. Really Merlin, you should’ve seen him when the knights got you back here, he was so scared for you.”

Merlin looks at her doubtfully, and squeezes her hand as they hear the door to the Physician’s chambers bang open:

“You’re sure he’s not angry?”

His quiet, scared tone of voice brings tears to Gwen’s eyes; if she knew how frightened he was, she would have told him that she knew about his magic years ago. She gives him the strongest smile she can manage and nods firmly as she strokes his cheek softly with her free hand:

“I promise.”

Merlin bites his lip nervously, but returns her nod and looks to the door expectantly. Gaius strokes a hand through his hair before going to the door at the sound of muffled, desperate voices on the other side.

The Physician opens the door just as Arthur reaches it, Leon and Lancelot a hair’s breadth behind him, presumably having come from the same meeting. Gaius raises an amused, though fond, eyebrow, before wordlessly standing aside and allowing the three men to rush into the room (Elyan waiting in the other room for Gwaine and Percival to be fetched from training).

Despite Merlin’s internal insistence that he wouldn’t cry, tears fill his eyes at the sight of his friends looking so worried. Arthur exclaims his name, his tone an odd mix of relief at seeing him awake and concern at his well-being.

The King rushes forward, and Merlin barely has time to gasp before he’s being wrapped in a tight. Gwen lets go of his hand, sitting back in her chair as Lancelot stands behind her, a fond smile on his face as he gently rubs her shoulders. Leon visibly relaxes at the sight of Merlin hesitatingly returning Arthur’s hug, though Gaius tuts, unhappy with the way his patient was being jostled around so much.

The longer the hug goes on, the tighter Merlin grips Arthur’s tunic, and the closer to spilling his tears he gets. He had been so worried, so scared, but Gwen was right: everyone really had been fretting.

Arthur finally pulls back, but before he can say anything Gwaine bursts into the room, closely followed by an equally worried looking Percival, and a fondly smirking Elyan.

Gwaine pushes in front of Arthur (who huffs indignantly before moving back) and wraps Merlin in a tight hug of his own, holding the servant’s head close to his chest, and murmuring:

“Bloody hell Merlin. Took you long enough, we were all starting to freak out a bit.-”

He leans back, but perches on the edge of the bed and keeps his hands on Merlin’s shoulders:

“-Though to be fair, Princess here has been freaking the whole time.”

Arthur huffs again, louder this time, and Merlin throws a glance his way. Before he can say anything, Gwaine is roughly shoved to the floor (with a very undignified yelp) by Leon, who says-

“My turn.”

- as he pulls Merlin into a brief hug, before sitting back and patting him on the shoulder a few times with a soft smile on his face:

“Glad to have you back, my friend, we’ve missed you.”

The servant returns his smile, and Leon gives him a nod, standing and moving back only to be replaced by Percival.

The biggest of the knights doesn’t fit on the edge of the bed, at least not without slipping off or crushing Merlin’s legs, so he settles for leaning over and pulling him up into a tight hug. Gaius tuts again, but no one pays him any mind; if they were actually hurting Merlin or causing any damage, he would say so.

He finally drops Merlin with a mischievous grin, and ruffles his hair before moving back. Lancelot leans over Gwen to squeeze his best friend’s shoulder; the grin on his face mirroring Merlin’s teary one. The knight leans back again and Arthur pushes himself to the front of the crowd once more, reminding everyone just how much of a tight fit it was to have six bulky knights, and two others, in a room where a tiny single bed took up most of the space (The King made a mental note to have Merlin, as the soon-to-be-appointed Court Sorcerer, moved to bigger chambers, and to give Gaius a bigger bed).

Merlin’s smile drops a little, but Arthur lets out a deep breath and perches on the edge of the bed, taking Merlin’s hand in his own with only a slight blush.

He gulps, and if he’d payed any attention he would have noticed almost everyone else in the room rolling their eyes as he opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Merlin, having finally convinced himself that he was safe, at least for now, simply raises an eyebrow at him, and Arthur can hear Gwaine snorting behind him, breaking him out of his speechless stupor:

“It’s good to have you back, Merls. The council are being predictably difficult and I miss your sarky comments in my ear.”

Leon purses his lips and nods in agreement, obviously getting just as frustrated with the slow pace the council was moving at as Arthur was. Lancelot just smirks and rolls his eyes at their dramatics.

Merlin’s smile grows again, and he quirks an eyebrow:

“Aww. You missed me, Sire?”

Arthur just lets out a short laugh and shakes his head, before looking back up at Merlin softly, and gulping:

“More than you know.”

Gwen stands abruptly, taking Lancelot’s hand, and gesturing to the door pointedly:

“I think that’s our cue to go. Lancelot, Leon, why don’t you catch the rest of us up on how the meeting was going?”

Leon nods knowingly, giving Arthur a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room, closely followed by Elyan. Gwaine smirks, and opens his mouth to say something presumably vulgar, but Percival huffs and clamps a hand over his mouth before pushing him out of the door. The two of them are followed by a laughing Lancelot and Gwen. Gaius looks to Arthur with an unreadably expression on his face, before saying in a deadpan tone:

“Not too much... ah, activity, he’s still weak and needs rest. The walls in these chambers are also not all that soundproof so... be mindful of that.”

The Physician ignores Arthur’s surprised blinking and Merlin’s deep blush, getting to the door just in time to stop Gwaine (who’d poked his head through to say something, again, presumably vulgar) with a hand on his face and a quick shove.

Arthur and Merlin chuckle slightly at the sound of Gwaine falling backwards down the steps with a high-pitched squeal, but quieten, looking to their laps awkwardly as the door shuts behind Gaius.

Merlin’s hand is still clutched tightly in Arthur’s, but he doesn’t pull away, looking up with a gulp, the worried expression back on his face. Arthur meets his gaze, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows worriedly.

“Merlin, I-”

“I’m so sorr-”

They both try to break the silence at the same time, but where Merlin chuckles slightly, Arthur frowns, having heard what Merlin was trying to say. He squeezes his hand tighter, and speaks forcefully:

“Don’t you dare apologise Merlin. I’m the one that should be sorry.-”

Merlin frowns, sitting up straighter and opening his mouth to retort, but Arthur shakes his head roughly:

“-No, Merlin. I should be, and I am. I am so sorry that you had to live in fear, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, but no more. I’m fixing it I promise. I’m repealing the ban, and you don’t have to scared anymore, none of your people do, I swear it, in the name of Camelot.”

The tears finally overflow from Merlin’s eyes and he throws himself forward, clutching Arthur tightly and silently crying into his shoulder. Arthur returns the hug without hesitation, running a soft hand up and down the other man’s back and whispering apologies and reassurances in his ear.

Merlin pulls back after what feels like hours, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and smiling slightly when Arthur takes his hand again. His face falls into a frown once more, and he looks up to The King nervously:

“Still. Perhaps if I’d told you earlier, all of this could have been avoided. I shouldn’t have lied for so long, I shouldn’t have been such a cowa-”

Arthur interrupts him:

“No, Merlin. You should never feel bad for protecting yourself in a Kingdom that should, by law, see you burn just for existing. It is not your responsibility to put your life on the line just to help a grown man reach a moral conclusion that he really should’ve been able to reach himself.”

Merlin sighs, but nods at Arthur’s imploring face. He relaxes back against the wall and Arthur smiles softly, lifting a hand to stroke the side of his face. Both of them blush slightly, but neither pull away as Arthur quietly speaks:

“We’ve got a lot to talk about Merls, but you should get some rest, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Merlin nods, eyes blinking blearily as he yawns, just now realising how tired he is. He shuffles down in the bed so his head rests on the pillow again, but doesn’t let go of Arthur’s hand, even as he stands up to move to Gwen’s chair. Merlin tugs his hand slightly towards him, shuffling over in the bed:

“Will you stay?”

Arthur looks down at him, a soft smile on his face as he nods. He lets go of Merlin’s hand, but only so he can climb under the covers, settling with his back against the wall. Merlin rolls between the King’s legs, laying with his head on Arthur’s stomach as he sighs contentedly, one hand hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other back to being held by Arthur.

Arthur smiles down at him, running his free hand through the man’s hair as he softly speaks, so quiet, Merlin almost misses it:

“Always. It’s good to have you back in one piece, Merlin.”

THE END!!!

I hope y’all liked it, I really enjoyed writing such an alternate magic-reveal, so thanks anon for the idea!!

Head over to This List to let me know what y’all want next!!

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x-lovely · 4 years ago

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[Restless Corpse].

Summary: Corpse continues to play Among Us even though you try to convince him to get some rest. (shitty summary, i’m sorry)

Pairing: Corpse x (Female) Reader

Genre: ALL FLUFF

Warnings: None? But… sweet fluff?

Word Count: 902 words (I tried to make it 1,000 but fuck it I was so tired)

A/N: After working for 10 hours today, I decided to write this story at midnight while drinking a red bull and listening to a lowfi remix of e-girls by LLusion on a 1 hour loop. Pls enjoy.

Link to part 2: https://x-lovely.tumblr.com/post/638546269242097664/restless-corpse-part-2

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Another day, another livestream of Among Us.

As Corpse walked into medbay, he overheard Dream talking about cinnamon raisin bread and wished for some himself. He was tired after staying up all night as per usual but still wanted to play the game with his new friends. Sighing once again, Corpse fixed the eyepatch over his eye and continued to focus on the game.

You frowned upon hearing this because you have been with Corpse this entire weekend but he had not gotten much sleep at all. As you got up from the bed, Corpse muted himself and turned around to face you.

“You okay? How are you feeling?” He asked, smiling softly.

You pouted. “I should be asking you that. I’m worried about you, Corpse. You must be so tired.”

Corpse let out a sigh and there was silence. After a moment, he motioned for you to come over to him. As you moved closer, he opened his arms and happily embraced you, wrapping himself around your waist and resting his head on your cute pudgy tummy. Even though you were standing beside him, Corpse was still tall enough to reach your stomach while sitting down. You welcomed his hug and chuckled as your fingers ruffled through his soft curls. He sighed blissfully as you continued to do this. It was as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered. Before pulling away from his sweet embrace, you planted a soft kiss on the top of his head and lifted his chin up so that he could face you.

“Why did you stop? I was enjoying it.” He said, frowning once again as your fingers moved away from his hair.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to. It just felt like you were going to fall asleep on me if I continued to do that.” You said, chuckling as his eyebrows furrowed at what you had just said.

“Hey! Fix your eyebrows. Your chat already thinks you don’t have any,” You exclaimed as you were tapping his eyebrows with your fingers.

Corpse laughed loudly and brushed your hand away from his face as he continued to wrap his hands around you.

“What you said earlier…” He said softly. You could barely hear him because his face was practically glued to your stomach at this point once again but you managed to hear his thoughts.

“I’m okay. I just don’t want to disappoint my new friends and my fans, you know? I feel off whenever I don’t post anything or do a stream so this is just me making up for it. This way, everyone would be happy,” Corpse said.

This time, you did not hesitate to pull away from him. “Corpse…” You said. “Your friends and fans support you. They’re not going to leave you just because you don’t post. I know I’m in no position to tell you what to do, but I do know that you’ve been tiring yourself out over these past couple of months. I know there’s a social reputation to uphold, but you definitely deserve a break, even if it is for a couple hours. We all respect you. I respect you. No one is going anywhere. I just want you to know that.” You explained, wishing that he would understand.

Corpse was quiet for a moment before letting out another sigh. “I wish I could believe that. I really do. I appreciate everyone for being there for me, and you, for being my number one supporter but I just want to give them the best of me.” He said as he turned back around to face his computer. He had forgotten that he was still playing with the gang.

You approached him once more and cradled his head to your chest. “Tell you what, Corpsey,” You said, petting his hair softly. “I’m going to go run some errands while you finish the game.”

“Okay… Where are you going though? He asked. You guys usually run errands together on the weekend, despite the fact that Corpse hates going outside. However, he feels safe when he’s outside with you.

You smiled at him. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” Corpse said.

You cradled him for a moment, basking in the warm embrace of his scent. You trailed your lips down to the side of his cheek, planting a soft kiss on his right cheek and another on his tiny ear.

It was an infinite moment that felt like eternity until the discord server started blowing up with notifications.

“They’re calling for me,” Corpse stated as he prepared to resume the game.

“Okay,” You said. “I’m going to get dressed and I’ll be back in a few.”

“Alright. Be safe. Text me if you need anything and please don’t forget to wear your mask.” Corpse was always worried whenever you went outside without him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.” You said, smiling at him.

“Okay, baby. I can’t wait until you’re home again with me.” Corpse said, wishing that he was cuddling with you instead of playing the game.

As you walked into the bedroom to get dressed, Corpse unmuted himself on the game server and apologized for being away for so long.

He wondered where you were going, but he knew that he could always trust you.

Little did Corpse know that you were going to surprise him with what he loves the most: food.

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A/N: DO YOU LIKE ITTTTTTT?? DO YOU WANT A PART TWOOOOOO. I’M SORRY ITS SO SHORT ): I deadass left you hanging, I’m sorry LOL. It’s currently 1:30 AM. I have so many ideas but I get so lazy to write but this time, I was like I HAVE TO WRITE FOR CORPSE. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. Should I make a separate tumblr for Corpse content? Because bet. I apologize for any grammatical errors. Also, I think I used “you” / “said” / “sighed” a lot. I personally do not like using “Y/N” because idk… it makes me feel disconnected from the story and it doesn't feel real. THAT IS JUST ME THOUGH, MY PERSONAL PREFERENCE. Anyhoo, I really hope that you liked it because I enjoyed writing this. Xx I’M ALSO REALLY NERVOUS THAT THIS ENTIRE THING SUCKS AND EVERYONE HATES IT omg ok bye im leavin

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glytchfic · 3 years ago

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We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting.

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems.

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.

#we started as a spark #part 2 #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader

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tenthgrove · 3 years ago

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500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato

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dimensionhoppinghybrids · 2 years ago

Text

The Prey (4)

part 1

part 2

part 3

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The trio had a good lead on their pursuer, as more then an hour had passed since they’d made their escape. They had to be quick but silent about it, which was easier said then done at the time. The place had been swarming with rescue teams, all of them taking stock of their underlings, both those that were supposed to be at guard in an outpost not far from the entrance, and then those inside.

All of them powerful and experienced. The most experienced having stayed behind in case there was someone that escaped, or had slipped by their pursuer.

They had waited for their chances, and Luxray proving his worth with his X-ray vision to see what the other two couldn’t, and Gardevoir sensing others before they could be seen, or using her psychic to divert enough attention away to give them an opening, and Zoroark using his illusions and stealth to hide their presence on their exit.

All three of them were used to such tactics, as they had been working together for some time now, and had a good grasp of each others abilities and faculties.

So they trusted each other, and covered each others weaknesses with their own strengths. It is what made them an effective team after all.

After slipping by the sentries and managing to make their way out of there, they ran as far away as they could. Choosing to go more northward after circling around and trying to shake off and confuse their pursuer as much as they could to try and get more headway, or buy time.

For as much time they had, the better their chances to escape unseen and unnoticed.

They didn’t know for how long they ran, but they ran for a good while.

They had enough sense of mind to try and cover each other in their flight from their headquarters. They knew they had lost by retreating, but it was better then staying and definitely losing permanently. A minor setback, that’s all it was. Or so they convinced themselves.

They knew their time was very close to being up. Their pursuer was known to be a relentless tracker of his targets. But they had to hope, had to hold onto the fact that they could, in all possibility, escape.

It was like a lifeline for a overboard sailor. Their little buoy of safety in a vast ocean of uncertainties.

After finally slowing down, and it was soon getting too dark for them, they made camp. They didn’t dare make a fire for fear of being seen, so they camped where they could, though it was a sore way of making camp. They just found a nook or a good place where they could stay hidden, and laid there to sleep. Because they were too tired, and too work out. The Zoroark lay awake though for a while, because he was the one to carry the dagger this time.

It hang at his hip with a special leather belt and scabbard made for it. It made so that it was at least easier to carry for the trio, or rather, two of the trio. Luxray really didn’t use it as it was awkward to use in his mouth, and he preferred to use his fangs and claws anyway, but still. They could all carry it if necessary, even Luxray.

The Zoroark stayed awake, thinking and his claw gently running against the hilt of the blade, ruminating over what they had done, and what they’d need to do now that they were over as a gang. Only the three remained, and they knew for a fact they’d need to rebuild, if that was even possible.

He knew as well as the other two, that their pursuit was a formidable foe. A foe they couldn’t beat.

And yet. The answer to that problem was right within their grasp. Right within their possibilities. They only needed more bodies.

He rubbed at his eyes as a subtle but noticeable headache was starting to form, and he knew he was probably too tired. So he tried to get some sleep, even if it was just for a few hours. They’d need the sleep if it meant getting further away.

--oooOOOooo--

The chase was on for Joseph. He had met with those on patrol after he’d excited the passageway, and those that had gotten inside, mainly those that were still somewhat in training, had come outside, looking pale and green around the gills. They’d seen what Joseph had done to those that showed too much resistance to be pacified by easier or less lethal means.

Joseph had given the more experienced leaders and rescue operatives the situation on what had happened so far. To say that they were grim faced would be an understatement. They didn’t like how things had gone, but understood Joseph’s actions. The fact that he came out looking like the grim reaper, covered in blood and smelling of death didn’t make things better. But it was what it was.

He was asked if he’d seen any of the missing Pokemon, and Joseph admitted that, other then indentured slaves, he hadn’t seen anything or anyone else, which was a foreboding thought to those that he was giving a report too, and they all knew what it could mean.

Body dumping wasn’t unheard of, but it could be difficult to do, unless you knew what you were doing. And, with how this gang operated, they knew that the likelihoods of finding traces of bodies were rather null, but the others would try and find them. They had too.

After giving his report, Joseph went on the hunt again.

Yes, he currently smelled horrible and was covered in blood and gunk, but he had to use the time he had to get to tracking. The more time he lost, the colder the trail got.

He had considered going airborne, but he knew he had many more chances to miss things then not in the air. He wasn’t guaranteed the ability to see anything from above, and it was more likely that he’d be spotted then he spot them while flying.

So, the reasonable thing was to go on foot. He’d had to backtrack and find the trail again, and he followed it, trying to judge on where they went, even as they backtracked and tried to lead him off.

This wasn't a first for him doing this sort of tracking, so he managed to stay on track until it turned dark and he was forced to stop

When making camp, he made sure to start a much needed fire, and start cleaning up before bed. He had a solid lead on them, maybe just a few hours worth, so they couldn't be that far off. He would risk going in the dark, it would be doable. But they still had the benefit of Xray vision. And so, even if it would be limited due to object density, even just seeing him early enough by the Luxray would be enough. And then the chase would start again, but with them rested and him still tired.

No, better to take a more conservative approach today. Let them both rest for now. Joseph could hound them like a bloodhound later. This way, he could also bleed them of energy slowly. The more they worried about him, the less time they had to hunt for supplies, which would make them eventually flag and wane in motivation and energy. That way, he didn't need to do much.

Giving a satisfied grunt of his own plans and his cleaning efforts, he went to get some much needed sleep.

That night, he didn't realize the consequences of his actions, even if well thought out and some well. It was a solid plan. But idiots never accounted for the plans of others.

--oooOOOooo--

Two days. That was how long they'd been running. Two days. Abd their supplies were quickly dwindling, and they didn't have time to resupply.

They knew they were being hunted because of the fire they had seen in the distant sky. They knew who it was, and it filled them with dread, and the spur of the moment energy to keep fleeing.

The three of them collapsed against a large boulder, the three needing a breather as each wheezed out their breaths.

"He just," gulped the Luxray, "keeps going." He coughed.

"We gotta, go!" He said as he tried to urge the two to move. They didn't want too. Their limbs felt like led, and their heads felt like tree sap thick molasses. They hadn't slept so well last night, and it was catching up fast. Add to the fact they had eaten their last bits of food, and it had just been scraps.

They were getting weak and they knew it.

But still they soldiered on. Trying to avoid roads and other well to do areas, like towns. They were tempting targets, but they knew in their state, they wouldn't last long against significant numbers, so they had to continue.

But in a way, fortune favored them in a cold and cruel fashion.

--oooOOOooo-

The teams that had been gathered at short notice all approached the woods with some trepidation, after all they were going after really strong targets. But they had gotten it on good information that they were supposedly being chased by a legendary, or at least well known bounty hunter and hero. To say the least, he was an inspiration among many when they had joined up, and it made it only better to hear that he was the one giving chase. And the teams that had gathered wanted to help him out!

They were young, but experienced! Or so at least they thought!

“Alright team!” Said a Cinderace as he jumped from one foot to the other, nervous energy bleeding into his limbs as he tried to stand still and give his rousing speech.

“We’ve got three baddies here on the way, but they should be weak from days now of running. We know that the hero of Flora is giving them a chase right now, and we also gotta do our part!” He said, trying to pump them all up.

The teams around him had a mix of emotions. His own team, were giving smiles as they cheered him on as his friends. A Staraptor and a Mightyena, the yena giving the Cinderace a smile and a fond gaze as she looked up at him, the gaze making him blush and do his best to stand taller. And the Staraptor, a bit of an older Mon that was more or less seeing over the pokemon he had in his team as his charges. Not a leader, but definitely there as their support, and he gave the Cinderace a fond gaze and a nod.

The other teams consisted of a Gengar, Weavile and an Aggron, who all three gave the Cinderace a placid look, neither cheerful, nor derisive, and then a team of a Thwackey, a Quiliva and a Hizuan Zoroark. Those three looked to be bumping themselves up as well, more eager to help then anything.

The Cinderace gave a smile as he gave a nod. It was a good team of nine Pokemon that looked ready to deal with what came to them.

With that rousing speech, or at least the young Cinderace thought so, the group started to make their way deeper into the forest, where they spread out and hid behind what cover they could find. They had asked some of the people they knew on where the three gang leaders would start going since they’d be trying to avoid any heavily populated areas, and this was the place where they’d been pointed too, and so, this is where they’d cut them off and try and capture them! If not that, maybe give their hero more time to catch up.

They had to wait some hours, and it wasn’t until they heard the panting and wheezing of three Pokemon where they knew their targets had arrived.

They waited, and their targets slowed, trying to take a few moments to catch their breath. It was there that they all knew they could strike at the perfect opportunity. “Now!” Called the Cinderace, and all nine of them lunched their moves at the spot where the three had been, only to see blurs move away at fast speeds as each move hit the spot, and detonating with a whoosh and a roar of flame and explosives. The wind buffered at the Pokemon, and they saw that their targets had dodged with more then enough time, and all three were grinning at the nine’s attempts at an ambush.

“My, my.” The Gardevoir said, giving a smirk. “It seems that some young whelps have tried to be smart and cut us off, ey boys?” She asked, and the two beside her only gave grunts of acknowledgement.

The Luxray though in particular looked specifically vicious. The smile he had was one of a battle maniac. Even if he knew he couldn’t defeat the pursuer after them, all of these little small fry were easy pickings. They’d be a good outlet for his fury for being chased for so long. And even weak, he was still formidable.

“Well I say its about time I get something to sink my teeth in!” The Luxray said with a growl as his fangs sunk into the earth, creating small grooves into the dirt as he looked around them, eagerly tracing each and every one of them. They would be perfect targets.

The Zoroark meanwhile looked at the group with a clinical eye. He was tired, the three of them were all very tired. But this would serve to be a very entertaining side assignment while they ran. He also eyed their bags, and he knew they had coveted supplies that they needed. It seemed that fortune favored them this day, because the food and the supplies that these young fools had would serve to keep the three of them alive longer.

He looked to the Gardevoir, and lightly touched the hilt of the dagger, as if to ask for permission to use it. She gave him a hard look, but nodded.

That was all that was needed, and the Zoroark opened up by using his illusions to trick the others, if just temporarily as the other two moved out, multiple copies of them scattered and moved, catching the group of ambushers by surprise. But those with a bit more experience among them knew to at least look for telltale signs of illusions, and attack the real ones. But that was enough time for him to slip away, and move to his target. The Hisuian one of his kind. A ghost type, and a threat if not dealt with, as she would be able to look through his illusions the easiest. So it was when she was distracted, and at her most vulnerable, where he came in and stabbed her between her ribs and into her heart. Grabbing her mouth to quieten her gasp of pain, then didn’t need to do more as the dagger did the rest. A convenient way to get rid of their opponent in one fell swoop.

Before she perished, he made sure to grab her bag, and continue on.

The Luxray had already mauled the Thwackey. The smaller Pokemon had tried to create a bit of distance, but Luxray was too fast, and had gone for the neck. The Thwackey did not have a neck anymore to say the least, and the bloody smile on the Luxray’s muzzle, and the horrified expressions of the others told him all he needed to have said of the sitaution.

The Gardevoir had already dealt with the most dangerous threat to her, the Gengar. And his remains were nothing more then a vapor of ectoplasm that was slowly withering into the ether of the death realm. Banished for good.

The rest, soon fell one by one, even as they did their best to defend themselves.

The Mightyena pup was crying over the Cinderace, his neck twisted in a horrible angle which told the Zoroark that he wouldn’t be getting up again, and the Staraptor was trying valiantly to fight of the Luxray and divert his attention, but it was futile.

Then he heard the sound of a body hitting the ground, again and again, and the horrid screech of metal as something was broken and twisted by rock. He didn’t need to look to know that the Aggron had been dealt with.

Then it was him, and he gave the Mightyena pup the sleep she needed, with a dagger into her side. Her pained gasp was just a whimper, and he knew he heard her say; “Cindy...?” Which trailed away as her body withered and wilted like a flower on the Cinderace’s body. Even in death she lay protectively over his frame, embracing whatever they had in life, now in death. It would be poetically sad, if he really cared. He looked away though, giving them at least that.

The fight was already done and over. It hadn’t taken them long to take care of them all. “Take the bags.” Gardevoir hurried. “We cannot dally. He’s coming.”

And she was right. He would be here soon. And they would need to run.

--oooOOOooo--

Joseph had been running like mad for several hours, and he was just right on their heels.

It was when he had heard the noise of battle though. An explosion, then cries of pain and panic, and then he felt a cold chill in his hearts and his spine as everything went quiet after a few powerful moves. Earthquakes, lightning bolts and such. Everything had gone silent after just that and a few painful cries.

It took him 20 minutes. 20 long, damn minutes as he came to the battlefield, and saw the bodies, and the aftermath.

He had to stop, stop and look at the Pokemon that lay in the field. He was used to wars, used to seeing the destruction, and the effects it had.

But he would never get used to the bodies. Especially of those that were so young.

And most of these Pokemon were just that. Young kids. Just barely adults. And they had... come here? To what? To.. Stop the ones he was chasing?

He looked around, and yes. That was what the evidence pointed too.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but it must’ve been several good minutes, because he had to shake his head to try and regain focus.

But he couldn’t just... leave them here.

He looked around the bodies, and what to be a goo pile of ectoplasm. Of the big Aggron, that barely had a face anymore. The Thwackey that... Yeah, he had been mauled. The Staraptor looked like something had dug into him and tore... Joseph couldn’t look longer. And then there was the withered body. No, bodies. Two who looked like they had everything drained away from them. Just, everything. Leaving nothing more then husks. What had done that? What could do that? Joseph was just realizing that there was something more going on here then he thought. Because that wasn’t normal. When he tried to touch the body of the canine resting on the chest of a young Cinderace, it crumpled to dust. Not even leaving the poor thing a body to bury.

“Just..” Joseph mumbled. “Just what the hell happened here?” It was the only thing he could ask the mournful silence around him. This fight had been over in barely any time at all. Even weak, the three had proven themselves to be a terror on the battlefield. And he knew, oh Joseph knew. That he couldn’t take chances anymore. This proved that this was something that had something fishy going on.

The three were smart, organized, and had a weapon that could do... That. He stared at the ashes of the body that had been on the Cinderace’s body, and his jaw clenched as his stature grew more firm.

No more games of cat and mouse. He was going to go after them, at full speed.

He needed to end this as soon as possible.

With that in mind, he took out a flare gun, and a flare, put it in the chamber, and aimed it high.

The flare shot out into the distant sky. And those Rescue teams that were around could see it, and knew that something bad had happened. Because death loomed over that flare. And with it, thoughts and feelings of dread went into the spines of the few that could guess had happened. And the cold pits in their stomach, spoke volumes for themselves.

Things weren’t looking so victorious now.

End of part 4.

#striking down like a thunderburner (joseph)#cut for length #Long post #tw death #tw gore

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asexualdrago · 4 years ago

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20 Questions

b@babycakes1983 shoutout to them for the FNAF prompts

Glamrock Freddy laid flat with his back against a wall in a sitting position as Gregory was nestled in his lap.His breathing was slow and his heartbeat was calm. No wrinkle of worry or fear on the boy’s face. He had to admit that Roxanne and Glamrock Chica were right. He was adorable when he slept. How they knew this, no idea. Maybe he had taken naps in their green rooms and he didn’t notice. He didn’t mind it all that much. At least he can admire these peaceful moments after a long day of work. No Glitchtrap, no Vanny and no worries.

Gregory shifted in his lap and rested his head against Glamrock Freddy’s chest where the empty compartment sat. A low, rhythmic ticking echoed in the boy’s ears. He slowly opened his brown eyes and yawned. Glamrock Freddy felt his circuits stop flowing suddenly seeing his boy wake up. “Hello Gregory, sleep well?” He asked in amusement as the boy looked a bit dazed from waking up. Looking up he saw Freddy’s kind, glowing blue eyes.

Nearly blushing he said “I-uh. Yeah I slept well.” He smiled at the animatronic as Glamrock Freddy maneuvered his jaw to smile down at the boy. “Um Freddy, how long was I asleep?” “2 hours and 30 minutes. If you are wondering how you got here, Vanessa told us that your mother dropped you off with her and she brought you here as she had work to do and trusted me to watch you.” Glamrock Freddy explained. Gregory’s blush deepened and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, um sorry about that Freddy.” Said animatronic laughed and ruffled the child’s hair making him giggle and try to push it away. “Hey! C-cut it out! Freddy’s response was to jab his metallic fingers into the boy’s sides and making him squeak adorably. “Stop it!” He continued to squeak. Glamrock Freddy loved it when his boy laughed. It made him feel alive and he was certain it made him feel better too. To laugh and have joy surge in him. Glamrock Freddy noticed he doesn’t laugh as much as most children he would meet on the daily. He guessed he was terribly shy. To be honest, he didn’t react like most kids, he felt that Gregory was lonely. Just meeting him made Gregory feel better and he was still shy but he made more of an effort to socialize with others thanks to the gang’s encouragement.

He continued to jab him as gently as possible as he didn’t want to hurt him. He stopped after a few minutes and ruffled Gregory’s hair again. “Y-you’re mean” He pants. “I am not mean Gregory. Its not in my programming, I am playful and energetic.” “Not energetic enough to catch Roxy when she’s running.” The boy then stuck out his tongue at him. Glamrock Freddy playfully rolled his eyes and picked Gregory up in his arms.

“Hey Freddy, where are the others?” “Working on their performances for the talent show after closing hours.” Gregory looked at him dumbfounded. “You guys have talent shows?” Freddy nodded. “Yes, what do you think we do after hours? Scare the night guards?” ;) “I am pretty sure Vanessa would hate that.” Glamrock Freddy chuckled. “Yes, yes she would.” Glamrock Freddy walked towards the green rooms. Specifically his, passing both the sun and moon animatronic jumping along beams and pipes. “Freddy, w-what are t-they d-doing? Noting his slight stutter he rubbed the boy’s back to calm him. “Its ok. They are not going to harm you. I would take a guess and say they are playing. Better than Moondrop pranking us constantly till 6 am.” He sighed. “Figured the sun animatronic would be asleep right now.” “Asleep? Oh, powered down correct?” Glamrock Freddy nodded. Ruffling his hair again, another thing he noticed. Gregory didn’t react to affection very well and was confused by it. Just when Glamrock Freddy showed him these acts of affection he slowly became more comfortable to his touch and didn’t flinch when he came too close.

“Why don’t we play a game? To pass the time.” He suggested. Partially to get his thoughts at ease. His metal feet clanking against the tiles of the pizzeria museum. Gregory nodded and thought of the 20 question game.”20 questions hmm? I’ve never played it before. I guess we can try. Do we just ask each other questions till we reach 20?” Gregory looked up at him with bright brown eyes. “I guess so. Should I start or you?” His metal jaw maneuvered into a smile and said he’ll start. 1. what’s your favorite color?” “Yellow. 2. What’s your favorite music?” “Hmm. I’d say 80′s rock.” Gregory laughed. “Don’t you guys play 80′s rock? There has to be something else.” Gregory laughed. “To be honest, I am not certain but I do have an assortment of songs. 3. what’s your favorite past time?” “I’d say coloring or drawing. 4. Who’s your favorite Glamrock member?” Freddy shook his head. “I don’t have a favorite , they are all family to me. That also includes you and sadly Vanessa.” He leaned his head down to nuzzle him. Gregory leaned his head towards the nuzzling with a small smile on his face,

Just to think, a few weeks ago he was afraid of him doing that thinking he was going to hurt him. Which brought back the thoughts he had about his family. Gregory felt like his child. In other words, his cub. The others would mention or joke how he and Gregory have gotten closer and Vanessa mentioning that she had a feeling the reason was because he didn’t have a father or the relationship wasn’t as great as it was supposed to. “I been at their house, I didn’t see a picture of the father. Just Gregory and his mother. Makes me wonder though.” It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? “5. What is your family like?” Gregory’s cheerful smile slowly faded. He looked nervous and didn’t know what to say. “Why do you want to know about that?” He asks. His voice becoming shy and soft. “Well, I have been thinking over it lately. And wondered what families are like, outside the complex.” Gregory looked down and seemed to think it over before sighing. “You already seen my mom. Right?” “I have, and Vanessa told us that she met her and they usually get smoothies together.” “Well, my mom is around but since she works at the diner and she isn’t home a lot. But she tries her best to raise me. Making sure everything is ok and that I am doing well.”

Glamrock Freddy’s metallic ears twitched. “Are you usually alone?” “Sometimes, but she’ll have me stay with the neighbor or have a family member watch me if they have time and if they don’t mind.” Gregory took on a saddened look that Glamrock Freddy didn’t like seeing. As much as he wanted to do something but he let him continue. “She cares a lot about me. She doesn’t want me to be alone but she doesn’t have much of a choice. She’s a good person Freddy. She just has it hard.” “What about your father? What does he do?” “He....he is....not around anymore Freddy. I don’t know my dad....all that well....” Glamrock Freddy titled his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Did he pass away or...?” Gregory shrugged. “Mom doesn’t like talking about it. No less mentioning him. Sometimes I feel like when she does or someone mentions him, she gets visibly upset. So I never ask her. I doubt I want to know when she gets upset.” Gregory looked down and looked as if about to cry. “Is that why you don’t react well to affection? They don’t show much of it?” Gregory shrugged. “I-I don’t know Freddy.” Noting the boy was becoming more upset. He held him close and started consoling him.

“Mom sometimes mentions I look just like him.” He sobs slightly. “Almost like she hates and loves the idea of me looking like him. Sometimes I feel like she hates me for it but doesn’t want to show it.” Glamrock Freddy felt rage surge in him. It wasn’t his cub’s fault that he has some resemblance to his father that he had no knowledge about. “It’s not your fault Gregory. Never was, you hear. You are special. Special to me. Your mother is strong, but even us adults can have our moments of self anger. You may not know him but its not your fault. I am so sorry you had to go through that.” Gregory hugged him and snuggled against his chest. He felt Glamrock Freddy nuzzle him again and stroking his back and hair. Luckily these actions helped him calm down. “I wasn’t joking when I said that you are part of our family. We love you Gregory. I love you my little cub.” Gregory couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Every word coming from his mouth more genuine than the next. He cried out of happiness and said softy. “I love you too. And I hope you don’t mind me seeing you as a father to me.” “I don’t mind my cub. I don’t mind at all.”

#fnaf security breach #gregory #glamrock freddy

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jinxfirebolt18902 · 4 years ago

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What are we, then? - JJ Imagine

A/N: I fell hard into a new obsession: JJ Maybanks yes it is. So, I badly wanted to write something but had literally no ideas so I took this prompt list and made a friend choose 2 random numbers. They picked: 9. “we’re not just friends and you know it”

27. “what do you mean maybe? that was a yes or no question”

So yeah. Enjoy some angst.

Words: 2.249

Pairing: JJ x female!reader

—Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me! —JJ shouted after her.

—Watch me, asshole. —she stopped her steps and half turned her body just to give him the middle finger. Her facial expression showed the rage she felt.

Angry outbursts were pretty common between them. They’d known each other since kindergarten, a couple of years before John B came to the picture. So, their relationship was stronger, deeper. They knew each other to the bones. The gang was used to their loud yet harmless fights. JJ was short-tempered, and so was she. At the end, the fact that they shouted their opinions at each other at the moment they felt it was healthier considering they always reconciled half an hour later.

But this time something was different. An event that had happened between them a few days earlier had changed it everything, and nothing would ever be the same. Such event was unknown by the others, and maybe that’s why they were all so confused.

The thing is, for the first time, neither of them were spitting their feelings out. And oh boy it did cause a lot of misunderstandings.

She and JJ decided to shelter from Agatha at John B’s place. It was no news JJ tried to avoid his house as much as possible. She always convinced her parents of letting her go with them as JJ was considered another son and spent a lot of time at hers, and they also wanted their daughter to be a good friend to John B after his dad went missing. Once her throat burned due to her shouting at John B to get his ass out of the ocean in the middle of a hurricane she gave up and waited for them to come back. Luckily JJ found a little sense within his logic and convinced John B of getting out of the water as the storm was way too heavy.

At the Chateau, they cooked some noodles and ate between anecdotes and candles due to the lack of power. Around 3 in the morning Agatha was still blowing, a few cans of beer empty were around the coffee table, she and JJ were sprawled on the sofa bed and John B asleep in his bedroom. The pair was listening to I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing from her phone as they heard the wind and thunder outside. They’d smoked a blunt and were then absorbed in the flame of the candle in front of them.

Her pupils were dilated and she couldn’t feel his eyes on her. Or at least that’s what he thought.

—Staring is rude dude… —She voiced out loud, but softly, in a sleepy state.

He let out a short laugh and then directed his sight to the candle. —You’re so mean to me.

Now it was her turn to laugh. —Yeah, so?

He gently pushed her arm and then let his head fall on her shoulder, his blonde locks tickling her skin. She rested her head on his and closed her eyes but a moment later he looked up and set his eyes on her face, more serious this time. Her eyes locked with his.

—What? —she said in a whisper.

But he was at a loss of words, which didn’t happen often. They just got in a trance where a lot of emotions were in each pair of eyes with a classic love song in the back. At a certain moment his gaze moved down to her lips and his breath stuck in his throat. JJ was never a shy one when it came to girls. His ego, not confidence, always led situations smoothly. But for the first time in his life, he had no clue what he was doing. It’s not like they hadn’t shared alone moments like this before, they always had. The amount of trust between them had no comparison. They were totally sincere with each other, since they’d met there was not a thing they didn’t know about each other.

JJ leaned in and stopped closing the distance just when there were 2 millimeters left to create contact. His blue orbits checked for permission with hers first. She didn’t move at all. He took that as a green light and collided his mouth with hers.

The kiss was soft, and meaningful. Yes, they had a couple of beers running through their veins, and yes also a little of weed into their systems yet they felt like time stopped. It was like the Universe was created for this and only this moment. They felt everything around them vanished. It felt right, just like when you fit the last piece of the puzzle.

The sound of a lightning striking near their location pulled them apart. They shared one more look though this one was loaded with a bit of embarrassment. The moment got kinda awkward and they dealt with it by pretending what happened did not actually happen. She turned around and he cuddled her like they always did.

The next morning John B woke up first, walking from his bedroom to the porch, catching the pair of friends peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms. He ruffled JJ’s hair asking him if he’d been outside yet only earning a groan as a response. Hours later she woke up and went home without talking to her best friend about the intimate moment they’d shared.

A few days later they threw the kegger, there happened strike one. JJ eventually disappeared with a smokin’ hot tourist, which did not go unnoticed by her. She’d seen JJ go from a clumsy kiddo to the sex symbol boy, she’d been there through the beginning to the end of his puberty, she knew better than even bother by his multiple random hookups. Still, after the intense look he had given her before kissing her had left her somewhat overwhelmed. And the fact that they had shared such a passionate moment together days ago made her actually uncomfortable at witnessing JJ get it with some other girl. This was brand new for her, literally she had never been jealous of the blonde. Oh and, one more time, feelings were bottled up.

Strike two took place at The Wreck when the group was in for a fast food meal. They’d gone inside towards their usual table while Kie went to the kitchen. The boys were just sitting when she was approached by Tom, a pogue, with a “Hey, how have you been?” to which she replied with a genuine smile. The boy had had a crush on her since middle school. He was kinda cute, light brown hair, green eyes, a couple of freckles under his eyes and on his nose. And he was nice, a good guy really. Her mom always wanted them to date but she didn’t find the chemistry reciprocated. And JJ had secretly been relieved by that. Not because he wanted her romantically or anything like that but because he dreaded the time she’d got a boyfriend and stopped hanging out with him. Tom asked her to go surfing with him the next day and she agreed, partly because she hadn’t surfed in weeks, and partly because she had bottled her jealousy at the kegger and kind of wanted to hit it back to JJ, as she was completely aware of how JJ felt towards Tom. Through the corner of her eye she caught JJ’s irritable gesture when she accepted the invitation.

A week after the secret kiss, the gang was at John B’s hanging out. By now, the tension between the two was clear to everyone, and their friends knew an explosion was coming soon. They weren’t teasing the hell out of each other as they usually did. They weren’t sitting next to each other in the boat as they usually did. And they also were hitting each other every chance they got, like when she had smacked his head from behind in the afternoon that same day when they were at the beach and the blonde was flirting with a girl, ruining their moment. Or when she was going to the fridge to seek for a beer can and he was coming out of it and shove his elbow into her arm, earning a gasp and a scowl.

—Yo! What is your problem dude? —her voice denoted she was at the edge which only pleased the blonde even more making him smile.

Kie and John B shared a look as Pope sighed resignedly foreseeing what was coming.

—Maybe the fact that you ruined my moment today.

She scoffed and walked past him rolling her eyes. —Yeah, sure. Cause you have so much trouble slutting around with everything that walks.

—Uhhh, excuse me. Do you have a problem with it?

Their friends sighed and walked out to the porch in order to give them space and to be honest, they were not in the mood to witness another of their fights so they rather stargaze outside while the two sorted it out.

—Oh no, be my guest bro. I’m just sayin’ why do you call me out on “ruining your moment” when you can have “your moments” whenever you want.

He smiled sarcastically and looked down at the floor before lifting up his gaze to her. —You’ve been a pain in the ass the whole week, you are the one with a problem obviously.

—I am not. I’ve been the pain in the ass? Are you sure? Cause someone else comes to my mind. —she rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly as she let herself fall on the couch and took a sip of her drink.

—You’re unbelievable.��Did you mean it?

He looked at her in confusion. —What?

—You know what. Did you mean it?

He shrugged his shoulders and looked down to hide the light blush of his cheeks. —Maybe.

Strike three, you’re out.

—Maybe? What do you mean maybe? That was a yes or no question.

—I-I don’t know —his hand went to grab his hair. —Maybe.

—Forget it. —she stood up and he freaked out.

—What? Are you in your period or something?

That’s when she stormed off the Chateau fuming.

The sound of the slammed door got the other three’s attention, turning their heads to look at the person walking away.

—Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me! —JJ shouted after her.

—Watch me, asshole. —she stopped her steps and half turned her body just to give him the middle finger. Her facial expression showed the rage she felt.

After a few minutes John B, Pope and Kiara all got up and went inside to find JJ standing in the middle of the room with a hand grabbing his hair and with the other holding a beer, looking down at an invisible point on the floor.

—What did you do? —Kie asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

JJ grimaced and sighed. —I might have said the period line… —Kie let her head fall backwards and took a deep breath. —Of course you did…

—That’s just a dick move. Anyway, what is going on between you two? You’ve been annoying all week. —John B voiced.

But he only closed his eyes and breathed out heavily.

Hours later the surfer skated all the way to her house. He threw some rocks at her window to wake her but after a few minutes nothing happened, then he noticed a shadow on the roof, next to one of the windows of the big house. He climbed up and jumped from the tree to the roof, a few feet away from her. She was hugging her knees and staring right ahead with her chin resting on her arms. There were no signs of remaining anger, just plain tiredness, and a touch of sadness. He caught that in her eyes, he knew her so well, and it made his heart sunk to know he had caused it. He cleared his throat and dried his palms on his shorts. He felt nervous and it caused his hands to sweat.

—I’m sorry.

She blinked slowly but kept her gaze set ahead. He felt ashamed by his behaviour.

—We’re not just friends and you know it. —now he did get her attention.

She just smiled and rolled her eyes changing her pose, resting her palms on the roof and leaning her core weight on them.

—What are we exactly, then..? —she was teasing him and he smiled sweetly. He nudged her and they both laughed. A second later he looked down and bit his lip deep in thought. She turned her head to look at him.

—You’re everything to me. —he said quietly, still not daring to lift his sight. —I never want to lose you. —he said with an expression of pain on his beautiful face. She furrowed her brows and hugged him. —You never will, idiot. Have I ever given up on you? —she whispered near his cheek due to the hug. His eyes filled with forbidden tears. He nodded no with his head as he didn't trust his voice. Her smile grew wider and she kissed his cheek softly. —See? I’m always there with you. Every day, every week, every year. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. —he half laughed half sobbed and immediately cleaned the tears forcefully with the back of his hand. She held him tighter and he put his head on her.

—So, I guess the answer is yes, I meant it.

#jj x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj obx #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine

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exosmutfactory · 4 years ago

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Six Phases 006 Pt 2

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: sorry not sorry 😇🚗💨🔥

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut ]

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Somehow, waking up early on Saturday mornings had become a routine since that weekend. Between the plague-like thoughts that disrupted my sleep and how Baekhyun cutely requested for breakfast the next morning, I dragged my tired body out of bed and quickly whipped up some bacon with scrambled eggs. He insisted that my cooking was the best before the flavor even settled fully onto his tongue, counteracting my every protest with flustering compliments. I recall accidentally telling him he was full of shit—it was only a simple meal, after all. What is that compared to the hundreds of fancy restaurants he has dined in?

"Your food tastes like home," He argued between pacifying whines, back-hugging me in a way that always weakens my defenses. I begrudgingly agreed after convincing him to have turkey bacon from time to time. Pork has its place, and I preferably don't enjoy the breakfast variety all too often.

It's ridiculous what lengths I would go for this infuriatingly attractive man. If my weekend to-do list full of breakfast, groceries, and laundry is anything to go by, I wouldn't oppose being considered as "whipped" for him. It is what it is, man.

Every Saturday I am up and running by the time the sunlight breaks over the horizon. Regardless of how late I end up sleeping the night before, my eyes automatically open between the hours of 6 and 7; ready to climb out of bed as quietly as possible. Thankfully Baekhyun is a heavy sleeper who is content with hugging my pillow to his chest while I sneak off to the kitchen.

The aches in my body become very apparent the moment my foot touches the carpeted floor of our bedroom, a familiar feeling—welcomed almost, though I'd never tell Baekhyun that. His ego when it comes to things like this is big enough as it is.

Suppressing a shiver at the wintry morning air, I reach for his discarded shirt from the night before, tsking quietly at the two buttons missing from the top of the material. I swear he's the most annoyingly endearing man I've ever met. There's no other explanation for why I'm already planning what time to sew the buttons back on, carefully picking them up from the floor and leaving them on top of our shared dresser.

Luckily the remaining buttons are enough to shield my shoulders from the cold of the large apartment; the bottom of the shirt brushing against the back of my thighs as I make my way out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind me. In times like these I am grateful for Baekhyun's habit of leaving his house-slippers right outside of our bedroom. I rarely use mine despite his constant chastising. Some things in life are better bare.

Slipping into the slippers with ease, a smile tugs at my lips while shuffling quietly down the hallway. I usually keep breakfast simple: scrambled eggs, a few strips of bacon—maybe a pancake or two on a particularly good morning. Today, however, I'm in the mood for something more. Omelets, cinnamon buns, and the little sausages Baekhyun has adored lately.

Checking on the buns in the small conventional oven on the counter, I whisk away at the raw eggs that will make up Baekhyun's omelet, smoothing out the yolk entirely. A light breeze and soft kiss pressed to my shoulder break me out of my concentration. I could recognize those pouty lips anywhere.

"You're up early," I murmur, leaning back against his chest. Tilting my head up, I smile at his cute sleepy expression.

"Mmm," He manages to capture my lips in an upside-down kiss that melts me to my very core, his warm fingers seeping through the fabric of my borrowed shirt. "What are you up to?"

"Breakfast," I breathe, cheeks warming as he pulls away, quickly checking on the sizzling frying pan in front of me before he can catch me admiring his bare torso. "I got the sausages you like, Bae."

"Bae?"

The top of my head nearly slams into the bottom of the cabinets as I freeze in my tracks, frying pan clutched in hand. Shit, did I say that out loud? My face might as well be 50 shades of red. "I—I mean-"

Baekhyun plants a kiss on my head that throws my every thought out the window. "I love you." He hums, hugging me warmly before walking to the dining table. The view of his bare back as he runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair is way too captivating for six-thirty in the damn morning.

I put my attention back on the pan, hurriedly removing it from the burner to slide the sausages onto a tray. 30 more seconds and I would have burned the damn things had I not shaken myself back into focus. "Jenny and the gang are coming over today."

"Today?"

I raise a brow at his tone. The high-pitched inquiry of his voice at the mention of his friends is a little suspect. Who was the genius that bragged so much about my BBQ short ribs everyone ended up inviting themselves over to our apartment? Shouldn't he remember our plans for tonight?

"Yes?" I drag out, tilting my head, looking at him skeptically with a hand on my hip, raising my spatula. "Did you forget?"

His silent form sitting rigidly at the table is enough of an answer. "N-" I raise my other brow. "Erm—M-Maybe?"

"Uh-huh." If he wasn't so adorable after just waking up with his lips tutted in a confused pout, I would give him hell. "I bought groceries yesterday, so we're only missing the wine-"

"I'm on it." Baekhyun perks up in his chair as if douched in cold water, pulling his phone out of nowhere. "Hyerin," He murmurs groggily, fumbling clumsily for a couple of seconds and slapping it to his ear in his hurry. "I need a bottle of Dom Perignon by 6:30. Thank you." The call is over in the span of 10 seconds. He sets the device next to his glass of orange juice on the table, busying himself with gulping down half of its contents. It takes a while for him to notice my bewildered gaze. "What?" He mumbles; orange pulp on his pouty lips.

I narrow my eyes, lowering the grease-covered frying pan back to the stove. "Who was that?" And how the fuck you just ordering Dom Perignon as if it doesn't cost my entire education expenses? If you just bought the $50k edition, I swear, Byun Baekhyun—"My new secretary." He yawns, stretching his arms above his head with a soft, content smile. "Come here." He mumbles, opening them towards me, his sleepy brown orbs fluttering sluggishly. "I miss you."

For a moment I just stare at him. "I'm right here..." I mutter softly, growing more aware of his current state by the minute. Those dark circles are committing the worst crime by being on his precious face. Carefully sliding his omelet onto a plate followed by a few pieces of sausage, I can't help laughing a little to myself at the comparison of our meals. His omelet managed to come out better than the one I made for me, perfectly solid compared to my result of scrambled eggs. No matter what, he gets the very best from me—I'm taking the biggest cinnamon bun though. That delicious treat has my name written all over it, it's mine for the taking. Besides, I can risk a sugar-crash unlike Mr. 12 hour shifts over there. Noting his drowsy form nodding off at the table, I quickly reach over to start the coffeemaker.

The smile that lights up his face as I present his food to him makes up for the few seconds I burnt my hand earlier, trying my best not to burn our whole apartment down. Note to self: never daydream about eventful Friday nights while leaning over a hot stove. Had I been slower to react, I'd be nursing my hand back to health with a frazzled boyfriend refusing to let me so much as brush my teeth on my own—it gets overwhelming after the first day, trust me.

Settling down on his lap under the persuasive encouragements falling from his irresistible lips, I hold up a piece of sausage to shush his drowsy mumblings. As cute as he is, he needs his morning protein before he can wake up and function properly. Especially after working 60 hours two weeks in a row. I respect his enthusiasm as a semi-workaholic myself, but damn am I worried. What kind of crazily time-consuming clothing line is going on in his beautiful head this time?

Baekhyun finishes his juice while I pick at my food, lazily twirling his hair between my fingers. Some days I ask myself why I’m still here, why I still try, why I continue on in this relationship that has more blurred lines than direct answers about our future. To tell the truth... I never expected to fall in love again. I never saw this coming—never saw him coming, when my sole way of survival has been spotting things from miles away. How did it come to this? How the hell did this man sneak past all my defenses so easily?

Maybe it was the smile he shot my way the first time we met or the way we had danced that Friday night, his body seeming to match so perfectly with mine. His comforting presence and sweet, brown eyes that hold all the stars in the universe. The countless late nights he has spent looking after me when I caught the flu from a combination of lack of sleep, stress, and poor life choices. He's always been there—always been here with me, but why… Why isn’t it enough? What is missing? How can I strip this weight off my chest that suffocates me more by the day?

"Baby?" Baekhyun's warm voice caresses my ear, comforting arms tightening around me.

"What if it happens again?" Jenny's worried face flashes vividly in my mind.

The memories come pouring in, making my mouth go dry as a lump forms in my throat. It takes everything in me to drag my eyes up to meet Baekhyun's inquiring orbs, plastering on another smile. The gesture is easier to manage with every sweet kiss his soft pillows plant on my lips. His heart-fluttering touch distracts my hyperactive mind for a while.

"Damn, Riley." Chanyeol practically moans, the sampling spoon I had offered him left to dangle pre-cautiously between his fingers. "Had I known you could cook like this, I would have come soon—ah!"

"Yah," Baekhyun scowls as I take the last serving plate from the counter to the table with a bashful smile, passing the tall man clutching the back of his head. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about." He mutters, lowering his hand, voice deepening in an unfairly attractive manner. "Watch your mouth."

"Geez." The giant huffs, glaring at him under the veil of his blonde hair. "You'd think you two were married with that—okay, okay!"

"When you two are done." The over-the-top chirp of my voice catches their attention; both their eyes widening like guilty little kids caught with their hands in a cookie jar. "Dinner is ready."

"Don't let me eat it all." Jongdae drawls, throwing an arm over the back of Jenny's chair, looking at them lazily, his brown eyes glinting mischievously. "Remember what happened last time."

Baekhyun and Chanyeol scramble for their seats as if their asses have been set on fire; an unusually quiet Jongin follows behind them, carrying a plate I forgot all about.

"Thank you." I gasp, quickly making room for the forgotten dish. "Set it down here, please."

Jongin nods, setting down the plate of cucumber salad next to the servings of Bulgogi. "I'm sorry Kyungsoo couldn't make it." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Something came up at the restaurant."

"It's alright. Wanna pack a to-go plate for him?" Tilting my head, I smile in understanding at the sheepish expression on his face. "If you think he'd like my food, anyway," I joke, resting my arm on the back of my chair as I continue to face him, relieved at the familiar hint of playfulness restored in his eyes.

"Oh he's going to love it," Chanyeol insists with a pleased hum, yelping at the smack Jenny lands on his sneaky hand.

"Where are your manners, Park?" She sighs, shaking her head, fiery red curls bouncing with the motion.

"Save some for the rest of us, asshole." Jongdae grumbles, subtly eyeing the cucumber salad.

Everyone's plate already has a soft taco shell, warm from a few seconds in the microwave. The toppings are placed on top of the two tables Baekhyun and I had to push together to accommodate our guests: fresh Korean lettuce, sour cream, and other ingredients that Jenny helped me choose—especially that bowl of melted nacho-cheese Jongin keeps taking glances at.

We all look towards Baekhyun once he settles in his seat. He leans forward to reach the middle of the table, bypassing the regular bulgogi for the one drenched in a home-made sauce, spooning some on my taco shell with a chaste kiss to my cheek. "Eat up, everyone," He murmurs sweetly, tired brown eyes twinkling.

Jongdae doesn't even fake-gag with Chanyeol and Jongin, he goes straight for the cucumber salad. The fresh smell wafts in the air amongst the various meat and spices, making Baekhyun's nose crinkle adorably. I carefully brush his freshly dyed hair out of his eyes, chuckling at the pout he shoots my way. "Did you really have to make cucumber salad, baby? Cucumber?"

"One man's trash is another man's treasure, Byun," Jongdae mutters, forgoing his personal bowl to grab the whole serving. No one says a word, we just share knowing smiles. And once Chanyeol pops the cork of the expensive Dom Perignon, the real party begins.

Endless tales of embarrassing high school cafeteria incidents spill forth from Jongdae's mouth as if shame has gone out of style. The details he shares at the expense of Chanyeol's seemingly innocent public image flying out the window right along with it.

"One second this guy looked like he was taking the biggest shit of his life, and the next thing I know, Lee Naeun from 5th period Physics is crawling out from under the table, wiping spulge from her lips. Like, Chanyeol, what the actual fuck bro? Couldn't you have taken your business to the 3rd floor Janitor's closet? I think I still have the key..."

If it wasn't for Baekhyun's quick hands, I would've sprayed a mouthful of wine across the entire table.

Unfortunately, Jongin had to head out right after dinner, promising to meet up again soon before hurrying to Kyungsoo's house, two plates clutched in hand. Chanyeol decided to stick around for longer to "let his two glasses of wine wear off"—this man has the metabolism of a beast, we know why he's really here. His reason is comfortably seated next to Jenny on our striped couch, sock-clad feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Dinner was nice," Jenny smiles, sipping leisurely at her water.

"More than nice." Chanyeol boosts from our leather recliner, raising his glass, tipping his head at me. "Your food damn near tops Kyungsoo's," He pauses, brown eyes widening. "Don't tell him I said that."

"No worries," I laugh softly, hiding in the safety of Baekhyun's shoulder. He shifts towards me, finishing his wine and setting the empty glass on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around my waist, brushing his lips against my forehead in a way that leaves my heart shaking. The white loveseat we're sitting on sinks further under our joined weight, and really, there's no place I'd rather be—except our king sized bed, that is. Baekhyun's firm grip on my bare thigh isn't helping my tipsy trance in the slightest. The universe knows I'd rather be getting drunk off of him right now.

"I'm going for a smoke," Jongdae mutters, rising from the couch. He leans down to Jenny for a kiss that leaves her beaming, going to retrieve his trench coat and shoes before slipping out of the door.

Good to see them doing well; I blink in surprise, smiling teasingly her way. I'm happy for her! It really is a pleasant surprise to see Jongdae stating their relationship in such a way; an immense improvement from their past encounters of Jenny nervously seeking affection and Jongdae down-right dodging it like his life depends on it. Public displays of affection are a sweet, straightforward way to say, "hey, this person means a lot to me," or, "back off, they're mine." Which personally sets me on romantic fire. Even if it's just holding hands, it can put me in high spirits—doing it with a certain, cheeky silver-haired man is just a bonus.

Jenny winks, fanning her cheeks that match the rosy shade of her hair before tuning in to Chanyeol's loud chatter.

Soft laughter rumbles in Baekhyun's chest as he engages in the conversation. His warm palm securely holds my hand when I slip my cold palm into his warm one. He presses a kiss to the back of it, pulling a silent giggle from my lips as he smiles at me with an arched brow, squeezing our intertwined fingers.

"Riley?"

I drag my eyes up to Jenny who's loosening her red curls by running her fingers through them. "Yeah?"

"Jongdae's not answering his cell," She murmurs with a worried frown. "Can you go check on him, please?"

And why can't you do it? — Or come with me for that matter? I raise a brow, getting up from the chair and Baekhyun's warmth with a silent sigh. "Okay. I'll be back." If I get kidnapped or spooked by some random asshole, she'll never hear the end of it. I really should ask Baekhyun to teach me a thing or two about hakipdo though.

Jenny beams, a peculiar twinkle in her eye, clasping my hand between hers. "Thank you!"

Uh-huh... I try not to eye her too warily.

"Take my coat, baby," Baekhyun murmurs, kissing the side of my wrist. "It's cold out."

"O-Okay." I clear my throat, pointedly avoiding the smug smiles of the other two in the room while walking over to the coat hanger.

Slipping on his brown, cinnamon-scented coat brings a giddy smile to lips—one I'm quick to hide in the soft fabric.

I slide on my boots before making my way to the elevator, not up for taking the 4 levels of stairs this late at night. Thankfully, that nosy neighbor down the hall isn't meeting me at the elevator tonight on one of his various late-night escapades. I've had enough awkward encounters with his lovers to last me a lifetime.

The lobby is empty except for a lone security guard who waves my way, face lit up in familiarity. Smiling back, I step out the crystal-clean glass doors of the building into the quiet night, quickly finding the man I'm looking for standing at the edge of the sidewalk. "Jongdae."

"Huh?" He looks over his shoulder, turning halfway at the sight of me, pulling a joint from his lips.

"You alright?" I pull Baekhyun's coat tighter around me, resisting the urge to shiver in the icy wind. "Jenny was looking for you."

"Looking for-" He chuckles, brown hair ruffling as he throws his head back in laughter. "Girl, please. I was instructed to come down here 5 minutes ago." He continues, inhaling deeply from the stick between his fingertips. "She ain't looking for me, she's looking for a way for them to chat privately and to make us talk..." He sighs, looking over at me. "I'm not exactly the best company for deep shit."

"O-kay then," I mumble, more than a little peeved, ready to turn on my heel in any direction other than stay here.

"Let's talk." He shrugs, exhaling smoke into the frosty air. I shoot him a wary look, barely taking a step in his direction. "I said let's talk, not have a screaming match." He mutters, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. "Why you all the way over there?" He follows my gaze to the stick between his fingers. "What? This?" He scoffs, smirking. "It's a joint, worst thing you'll get is the munchies."

Crinkling my nose, I take a couple more steps closer anyway, standing beside him, keeping a respectful distance between us.

"Listen." He sighs, taking another drag. "I know I've done some things that… I didn't necessarily have to do." He glances at me for a moment, and then faces the street lights. "Bros before hoes, you know?"

Yeah, I inwardly roll my eyes, focusing on a lonely snowflake evaporating before it reaches the ground. There's a lot to be said over people doing things that they didn't necessarily have to do. If I had a dime for every sleepless night I've had because of Jongdae's shameless mouth, I wouldn't be paying off my student loans anymore.

"Look." Jongdae takes one last drag, crushing the joint under his worn-out winter boots. "The way he is now is much better than the Baekhyun we knew back then." He nods a little to himself, meeting my gaze. "Still can't see why he decided to change his ways for you...but oh well." He mutters, lips quirking into a playful smirk at my small smile before facing the city lights again. Festival lamp-shaped snowflakes attached to the top of every streetlight beam against the dim backdrop of empty downtown buildings, prepared for the coming holidays. "You're alright for a best friend stealer."

A laugh escapes before I can slap my hands over my mouth, meeting his eye nervously only for us to both end up laughing; our amusement echoing loudly through the quiet night.

"Riley?" Jenny's confused voice peeps up, red curls rebelling against the hood of her fluffy white coat.

"Over here!" I cup my hand around my mouth, waving to get her attention.

She turns towards us, rounding the corner with quick strides. "There you are! I thought you got grabbed or something." She fusses, resting a hand on my arm, leaning closer to whisper in my ear, "Especially you. Baekhyun was two seconds from hunting you down with my head on his mantle."

"Jenny!" I snort, accepting her tight hug, my voice muffled in her puffy coat. "It kinda would be your fault though."

"I know!" She exclaims, viewing me from an arm's length away. "I was sweating out my hair."

"Baby?" That unmistakable honey voice calls. A head of fluffy silver locks and brown eyes peek around the building, catching light in the streetlights.

"Here, B," I soothe, chuckling as he speeds over to us, gathering me in his arms without hesitation.

"I thought I lost you," He mutters, hiding in my hair.

"She was gone for ten minutes," Jongdae deadpans.

"Ten minutes too long!" He pulls back to glare over at the brunet, hugging me to his chest with cheeks too rosy to be merely from a few moments out in the cold.

"Just how much of that wine did you drink?.." I narrow my eyes, cupping his flushed cheeks.

"Good thing you only bought one bottle," Jenny laughs nervously, slowly gravitating to shelter behind Jongdae's taller form.

"Enough to miss you." Baekhyun's breath leaves goosebumps on my chilled skin, his soft lips brushing my ear.

"Al-right, time to go before the lovebirds start mating." Jongdae grumbles, wrapping an arm around Jenny's beaming form. Their matching smirks have me scurrying to direct my tipsy boyfriend back towards our apartment.

"Uh—okay! See you guys next time!" I laugh to mask my burning face, gently pushing Baekhyun into the building.

"Goodnight! Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jenny sing-songs, the smugness clear in her tone.

"Can't make any promises!" Baekhyun proclaims over his shoulder, much to my embarrassment. Thankfully he quiets down once we reach the elevator, but based on the wide eyed security guard, the damage has already been done.

Can the frozen ground just please open up and swallow me whole?

The view of this busy street differs from all the other times I've walked down it with Baekhyun by my side. Maybe because it's been almost 2 years since I've moved to this city, or that new boutique being set up at the end of the road. Whatever the case, the air is different—crisper, cleaner. Refreshing as I briskly walk to my destination, wanting to avoid being out in the cold as much as possible. The weather here is so much colder in the middle of December compared to how flowers were still budding around this time outside of my childhood home.

Humming a song that's been stuck in my head for days with my car keys spinning around my finger, I stroll into Privé Alliance's building, admiring the latest clothing line pictures hung up along the walls and waving to the new receptionist while making my way to the elevator. Many men and women in business attire are all over the place as per usual during the busiest months of the year. However, once I make it out of the crowd of chattering employees, the sight of a familiar face waiting in front of the elevator brings a smile to my face. "Kyungsoo!"

The short-haired man turns around. "Hello, Riley." He nods with a small smile as we step inside the open doors, pressing the buttons to the 5th and top floor. "Lunch date?"

"Hmm?.." Blinking a few times, I follow his gaze to the picnic basket clutched in my hand. "Oh! Yes." I chuckle, smoothing down my hair. "Sorry." Between nearly slipping on a patch of ice on the way over here and the pretty lights decorated all over the city, I've forgotten the reason I left our fridge in a disarray this morning. Who decided to store the sandwich meats at the back of the refrigerator? I know Baekhyun loves my home cooking, but damn, man, let me have a break too.

"It's alright." Kyungsoo chuckles, arching a brow. "Hopefully you can get him to relax."

"Relax? Coming from you!?" I gasp sarcastically, covering my mouth with wide eyes.

"Only because he's seconds away from firing half the 3rd floor." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, yet an apologetic smile forms on his face. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the gathering." He clears his throat while facing forward again, straightening his suit.

"It's alright," I smile, resisting the urge to chuckle at his flustered state, checking my outfit in the elevator's reflection. It may be a chilling 40 degrees—4 in celsius—but I can spare the warmth of my legs for a 2 minute walk from Privé's parking lot. No weather can tell me what I can and can't wear. If I want to rock a pencil skirt on the coldest day of the week, so be it! Plus, these two-inch heels couldn't be left behind. I can't show up at Baekhyun's workplace with the poor fashion choices I subject him to at home, so we're going, coolness over comfort.

"Life happens," I mumble, tucking rebellious locks of hair behind my ear. "I'm just glad you're doing okay." The smile that forms on his heart-shaped lips when I take a glance at him makes me beam back.

"I'll stop by sometime this week." He hums, black dress shoes tapping on the floor. "I just finished a new recipe."

"Recipe?" I blink, mildly intrigued, mentally running over the list of food I'm carrying for the 3rd time today.

"Fried ice cream cake," He smirks, nonchalantly checking his watch.

"Fried-" My jaw damn near drops to the floor. Fried? Fried!? The one ice cream Baekhyun banned me from attempting myself after burning my hand while frying fish a few days ago?! Which Baekhyun is half to blame, by the way—never sneak up on someone over a popping frying pan. It never ends well. Besides that, it also was the day I truly realized the stamina that man possesses. I have never seen someone react so quickly to shove my hand under ice-cold water in my life.

Searching for any cameras in the elevator, I step a little closer to the short-haired man, whispering discreetly behind my hand, "W-Will you bring me some?"

"The prettiest one," He promises, softly patting my shoulder, chuckling at the star-struck expression written all over my face. "This is me, I'm afraid."

"Huh?" I blink into focus, shocked to be on the 5th floor so soon. What the heck. What is it about elevator rides with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo that make them go by lightning-fast compared to the stifling, tension-filled ones with Jongdae? If you can read a room, it truly makes a difference. "Oh, don't let me keep you." I give a little wave, balancing the picnic basket on my forearm. "See you later!"

Kyungsoo nods, smiling with a wave of his own as the double doors close. It is at that moment that I freeze, recalling how Baekhyun mentioned he hired a new secretary a few weeks back. Well... shit—how do I explain why I'm arriving at his floor unannounced on a random Tuesday afternoon?

Do his employees even know we are dating?.. A small part of me doubts it. Why do I care? Oh, right—I fucking live with him!

By some miracle, no one is occupying the neatly arranged desk when the elevator opens on the top floor, saving me from the completely rushed explanation I have no idea how to even put into words. All that lies before me is an undisturbed walk to Baekhyun's office, the intimidating black door slightly ajar. I slip off my heels, rushing out of the elevator on sock-clad feet before the doors close. Baekhyun's businessman voice filters through the quiet air. He must be on the phone.

Shuffling as quietly as possible down the hallway, I peek into his office. My eyes quickly find his broad form leaning a hip against his executive desk, a phone pressed to his ear as he faces the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the heart of Seoul. Impeccably dressed in a wrinkle-free, white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His black blazer thrown over the back of his chair. Like always, the splashes of color in every corner of the room have my lips curling up, but I have to muffle a small giggle at the sight of a thin pink measuring tape hanging around his neck.

I slowly inch closer, discarding my coat and setting down the basket in one of the leather chairs. Smoothing my flower-patterned, white button-down shirt, I silently approach him, gently covering his eyes once he ends the call. "Guess who~"

Baekhyun stiffens for a moment before swiftly turning around, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up, setting me down on his desk. He cups my cheeks in his warm palms, crashing his lips to mine before I can make a sound. "Thank god, it's you." He breathes, warm fingers sliding into my hair.

"W-Well—hello to you too." I barely manage to get out between his feverous kisses, making a noise in surprise when he pulls me flush to his chest. "What is it?" I ask softly, noticing the bothered look on his face; carefully running my fingers through his styled hair as he hides in my neck. "Another long day?"

"You have no idea." He sighs, looking up at me. "I was 2 seconds away from losing it."

"Don't-" I pause, thinking about it. A few memories of last week flash through my mind. "Well, you are kind of hot when you're angry..." In the proper context.

Baekhyun perks up, exhausted brown eyes regaining their sparkle. "Really?"

I hum to appease his hopeful expression, yelping when he pulls me into his arms, not expecting to be carried up from the desk so suddenly.

"Come here," He murmurs, walking around to sit in his chair, setting me on his lap. "I need strength to get through these reports."

Gently playing with his hair to calm down my racing heart, I tilt my head, "Do you have time for a lunch break?"

Baekhyun hums distractedly, kissing my forehead, holding me closer to his firm chest. "We can order in a little later."

Kyungsoo's words come back to mind while I watch Baekhyun continue to click around his computer, brown eyes squinted and brows furrowing more by the minute. I inwardly cringe at the move I'm about to pull, but… Our sandwiches' lifespan is ticking away. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"But…" I pout, resting my hands flat on his chest, widening my eyes for effect as his focused orbs shift to meet mine. "But I made it."

"Let's eat now then," Baekhyun smiles, his steady gaze flickering all over my person. I swear I just witnessed his pupils dilating right before my very eyes. "Give me 5 minutes."

My lips quirk up, "One-"

"I'll set a timer." He laughs, shaking his head, reaching for his phone between his bright screen laptop and desktop PC.

Smiling in victory, I stretch across the desk to retrieve the basket, peeking at his computer accidentally. "Holy shit, is that Melody Hudson?" I straighten up, focusing on the magazine cover opened up on a famous website. "The model?" My eyes widen in awe of her tall blonde form modeling a stunning royal blue summer dress; the color bringing out the blue in her shining eyes. I place the basket on a clear spot on Baekhyun's crowded desk before rubbing his stiff shoulders. He must still be tense from work. "She's so pretty."

Baekhyun hums, placing a hand on my cheek. His gentle caress coaxes my eyes back to his. "But you're beautiful," He whispers, resting his forehead on mine, brushing a thumb over my lips.

There's nowhere to hide the red hue that springs onto my face, making him chuckle as I quickly turn back to start taking out our food.

"Would you like to accompany me to a photoshoot?" The tentative tone of his voice has me raising a brow.

"Sure!" Handing him his sandwich, I press a kiss to his cheek, carefully unwrapping my homemade fries. "I'd love to see you work behind the scenes."

"Actually..."

I look at him, mid-bite of my toasted turkey sandwich.

"I'll be in the scenes," He drops, soft lips quirking a boyish grin.

My grip on my sandwich rips a hole in the middle while preventing it from falling out of my hands. "I…"—Behind the scenes witnessing Baekhyun modeling?? With his god-tier body and knee-weakening smirks that have me crumbling from beyond a screen alone? Hell to the mother fucking yes! "O-Okay."

Baekhyun's brown orbs twinkle knowingly, an amused smile forming on his lips as he presses them to mine. "Great."

It's impossible to mask my excitement while slipping into the passenger seat of Baekhyun's Audi. The beautiful red highlights around the black interior never fail to leave my jaw dropped in awe, fingertips tempted to graze over every surface. I'd like to think a person's dream car matches their owner, and there's no denying how devilishly divine my boyfriend looks settling into the driver's seat.

Baekhyun's simple, black button-down shirt and matching jeans have me inwardly salivating—I don't even have the slightest clue of why he's going to a photoshoot today. Privé? A cover for a magazine? Possibilities are endless, but not just anyone can request an hour of his time during one of the busiest months of the year.

"Are you ready?" Baekhyun glances over at me, his unstyled hair tucked under a Privé corduroy camel baseball cap that I haven't quite seen before.

"Yes," I beam at him, tilting my head curiously. "Is that hat new? I don't think I've seen it before."

Baekhyun smirks, brown eyes glinting mischievously as he straps on his seatbelt. "Maybe." He rests a hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh, backing out of his designated parking space. "Hold on tight, baby. You're in for a long ride."

I blink, having no clue what kind of ride he means. When it comes to Baekhyun, you never know what you're getting yourself into, but you never really have to worry about it either. If I hadn't known him for a few years, I would have bugged him to tell me where we're going for the entire ride. But with a few years under our belt—and some long months spent sharing a close-knitted home—I can comfortably sit back and relax for the whole journey, because there is no Baekhyun without one.

•••

The parking lot outside of the building is relatively calm, with only a few staff members bringing in materials from their cars. Inside of the place, however, is a complete madhouse. Everyone is speed-walking to various rooms and popping up from behind every corner. Not a drop of silence in the heavily populated area.

"There's our man of the hour!" A tall, aged man steps forward to shake Baekhyun's hand, carefully cradling a camera strapped around his neck. "So glad you could make it. I hope we are not taking up too much of your time?" He inquires, pushing glasses further up his nose, glancing over at me.

"Oh no, of course not!" Baekhyun shakes his head, shifting closer to wrap an arm around my waist. "I invited my girlfriend to accompany me today." He clears his throat, reddening cheeks caught under the harsh spotlights. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," The man reassures, gesturing towards a staff member who quickly brings over a grey single-seat sofa. "The more the merrier. Here you go, Madam. Is the chair to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you," I smile, trying not to stutter, brushing my fingertips over Baekhyun's warm palm before taking a seat. He shoots me a little bashful grin as the photographer whisks him away, a team of stylists directing him to a chair on the opposite side of the room. It's amusing to see so many people fussing over his hair, pulling out hairspray, and presenting him with simple yet sexy articles of clothing.

A few other models are walking around in the same attire, giving off a cool vibe of the newest clothing line, but when Baekhyun steps out of a dressing room…

Holy shit.

No, seriously holy shit!

Baekhyun walks into the room, standing against a wall as stylists comb his hair over to the left side of his face, using sprites of hairspray to tuck the right side behind his ear. As if he doesn't look dangerous enough adorning a leather jacket, a black shirt with white scribbles I can barely make out from this distance, and camel pants with unique, black low-platinum shoes.

The staff directs him over to the area with a gray backdrop, lights and cameras focused all over the place. Baekhyun practically glides over there, oozing with that stunning Ceo confidence. At a closer look, I can make out the pretty image of open and outstretched hands in the white lines at the bottom of his shirt. The intriguing detail has my full attention until I feel a persistent stare.

I lift my eyes higher to meet Baekhyun's dark brown orbs—from me sitting in the back of the room or getting into character; I have no idea. Suddenly my red knitted sweater is a bit too warm despite not being in front of any bright lights. Just when I think it can't get any worse, the photographer announces that it's time to begin.

If I had known what I agreed to the other day, I would have been more prepared—or so I'd like to think. I mean, how does one prepare their feelings for watching their unfairly attractive, multi-millionaire boyfriend pose for the camera as if moments away from sweeping them off of their feet!? And not in a sweet way either. Nah, ain't nothing innocent about the lethal expression swirling within his dark brown orbs. Especially while they are pointed right at me.

The hairstyle they gave him just makes my situation worse. How am I supposed to sit still with this man gazing so intensely into the "camera"? Is this really the same drowsy Baekhyun who I have to wake up every Sunday morning? Where did his tiredness go? There ain't nothing exhausted about the way he is staring at me! And when they bring out a chair for him to sit on… No. Hell no. That's it.

Draping my sweater over the back of my chair has his covered lips curling up at the corners, I just fucking know it.

After a few more camera flashes, the stylists are back with a new outfit in tow, gesturing for Baekhyun to change. However, right as he is turning down the short hallway leading to the dressing room, someone comes rushing into the building.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" A petite woman with a French accent flies into the hall. "Traffic was-" She skids to a halt, staring at Baekhyun as if she's seen a ghost, her brown wavy hair mid-loop of making a bun. For a long moment, nobody says a word, and then she's on the move, crossing the short distance within two furious strides.

Her slap echoes across the tall walls.

"To think I waited for you." She grits out between heated spews of French. Her gray eyes brimmed with tears shoot daggers into Baekhyun's wide-eyed ones. "To think I held onto the fact that maybe you actually cared." Her whole body shakes as staff members rush over to restrain her, calling her name over her loud obscenities in an attempt to calm her down, trying to pull her away from him before she can jump him. It takes three men to drag her back out of the building. A woman from the small crowd quickly follows, dropping a blue clipboard in her haste. We hear her panicked voice a split second before the door slams shut behind them.

I don't know when or how it happens, but I'm already on the other side of the room, reaching out for a stunned Baekhyun being fussed over by stylists. "Baekhyun?" My eyes flicker all over his shock-stricken face once they move out of the way for me. A lump forms in my throat at the look in his eyes. "B," I tentatively place my hand over his frozen one on his cheek, the red handprint visible between his fingers. "Baekhyun!"

He flinches, shaky pupils focusing on me. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Emotions grip at my throat, making it hard to speak while my eyes keep shifting between his alarmed ones and his steadily bruising cheek. I take the ice pack a staff member hands over without a word, gently brushing his hand away to hold it to his face. "Come here."

Baekhyun silently follows me to the dressing room, seemingly in a daze as stylists vacate the room, closing the door on their way out. I lead him over to a swivel chair in front of a white vanity table, letting him settle before speaking. "What was that?"

"What was what?" He mumbles, breaking my heart at the sight of him pressing ice to his swelling cheek.

"You know what I'm talking about." Crossing my arms, I continue staring him down. "Who was that woman, Baekhyun? Why did she hit you?"

"I'll tell you later, baby." He avoids my eye and his reflection in the mirror, getting up from the chair. "Let's wrap this photoshoot up, hmm? Then we'll go home-"

Stumbling to reach the door before he does, I block his escape, looking into his conflicted eyes. "I'm not letting you leave this room until you answer me."

His lips twitch, "Baby-"

I cross my arms despite my racing heart, my stomach twisting in an ignored warning. "I need answers-"

"For fuck's sake, Riley!" He thunders, startling me so much I slam the back of my head on the doorframe. "Out of my fucking way."

I step aside without another word, turning my head away as he storms out of the room. The slamming door left in his wake has my heart jumping into my throat. Anxiety grips at my chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe. I latch onto a Privé clothing rack, holding onto it for stability.

Baekhyun's tone on the other side of the door is much calmer while talking to one of the staff. I wait for a few minutes, resting against the clothing rack until his voice drifts away; the loud taps of his shoes fading into the distance. No matter how far away he is—most likely continuing on with the photoshoot by the faint clicks of a camera echoing around the quiet building—I don't… I can't; I won't go back out there to watch him. No, not after that. I'm sure everyone in the vicinity heard what just happened.

Slipping out of the room, I gasp when I bump into someone else, my heart beating so hard it hurts to breathe. Could this day get any worse? Seriously? "I'm so sorry."

"You're fine," The same staff member I heard minutes ago with Baekhyun shakes her head, smiling in sympathy. "Tough morning, huh?"

I can only manage a deep exhale, nodding, "I guess you could say that, u-um—" I'm losing the battle against the sting steadily building behind my eyes. "Do you know where the bathroom is by any chance?"

"Just around the corner," She nods, pointing farther down the hallway. "First door on your left."

"Thank you," I breathe, hurrying down the hall. Before I can pass by her, however, I notice her angrily marking out a name with a black sharpie from the same blue clipboard that clattered to the floor earlier.

Nicole. The woman they dragged out earlier…

With tears finally breaking free from my sore eyes, I couldn't have reached the bathroom fast enough.

To my relief, the room is empty. Nothing but painfully bright lights and the porcelain floors to witness my current state. I walk up to the sinks with a shaky sigh, splattering cold water on my face. My reflection isn't a pretty sight to behold when I look into the mirror, bracing my hands on the countertop as I take in the streaks of mascara running down my face. The one day I decide to wear a non-fool-proof kind and this is what I get?

Sighing, I turn to lean my back against the counter, crossing my arms. The photoshoot is back in full swing with all the compliments the photographer is showering Baekhyun in. It's pretty pathetic of me to hide out in this ice-cold bathroom, but I rather shiver for a few minutes than face him right now. Something about the way he reacted earlier... To that woman, to me—doesn't feel right. Maybe I pushed him too far? I just… Do I not have the right to know who just slapped the hell out of my boyfriend? Hell yeah, I'll admit I want to know who she is because he's mine and she was acting as if she was waiting forever for him to recuperate her feelings, but it's not just about that. No—Nah. The deer in headlights expression on his face as her hand collided with his cheek will not leave my mind.

Whatever it is, whatever just transpired in front of me; something is off and I rather be out the line of fire while trying to figure it out.

"To think I waited for you" For what? For when? With the way things are going, I might never know the answer.

The lack of chatter filtering through the echoing walls of the room catches my attention. I tentatively peek out of the bathroom, stepping back into the hallway at the uncharacteristically quiet state of the building. Is the shoot over already? Pushing past my dimly lit surroundings, I head back to the dressing room, hesitantly standing in the open doorway. I'm confused to not find Baekhyun there, or in the main area when I poke my head over the edge of the short hallway.

"Excuse me?" I approach the nearest stylist, moving out the way of another one clumsily carrying out articles of clothing. "Have you seen Baekhyun?"

She shakes her head with a pop of her minty gum, giving me a solemn look. "Last I saw of him, he was on his way to the men's room on the other side of the building."

"Ah..." Dread fills my stomach, and something tells me that I rather not find out why. "Thank you," I murmur in passing, quickly making my way back out of the room, speeding down to the opposite hallway. The possibility that I got left behind in an unfamiliar part of the city twists my stomach into knots until I round the corner. I stumble to a halt, sucking in a breath. My heart breaks at the sight—and then the rage kicks in.

Baekhyun's broad form in his partially unbuttoned black shirt braces himself against the wall, looming over a model. Her hand is in his hair and their lips interlocked in an intimate kiss. The sight has my blood boiling—nah, it's turning into fucking lava.

"Wow." I bark out a laugh, loud and hollow, positively seething as he jumps back from her as if burned. "If you were going to cheat, you could have at least had the decency to do it behind my back." The smirk that forms on my lips is the worst kind, the ugliest kind, the kind that has fear flickering in Baekhyun's wide brown eyes. "Or was this your intention all along?"

"R-Riley-" He stares like a deer in headlights, hurrying over to me, smearing her red lipstick over his lips in his haste to rub it off with the back of his hand. "Baby, please keep it down. I can explain-"

"Nah," I shake my head, looking at him in disdain. Just the sight of him right now has me heating up with anger. I'm seeing red as the model smirks at me from over his shoulder. That bitch. "This is explanation enough." I spin on my heel before I do something I won't regret in the slightest, just for his sake.

Baekhyun's dress shoes tapping frantically behind me as I storm back into the main hall.

"Riley, baby." His grip on my wrist throws me over the edge. "Please-"

"What were you doing, huh?" A snarl forms on my face as I whirl back around, meeting his pleading eyes. "Gonna show her your failed attempts at lasting for longer than a minute?"

Everyone in the room pauses. The photographer almost drops his prized camera.

Baekhyun's face grows progressively red, and if it wasn't for the rage burning in my own veins, I'd be concerned about the vibrant hue going up to his ears right now. Just like his mishap a few days ago that would normally be insignificant, it was his grave mistake. The key that I used to fuel the fire to the flame in the most torturous of ways... Have I hit a nerve, Hyunnie?

His grip tightens on my wrist. "We," He barely gets out in an angered growl of his own, "Are leav-"

"Get your filthy-" I hiss, snatching my wrist out of his grasp, "Paws off of me." I grab my sweater on my way out, exiting the building without looking back. The bite of the cold wintry air is a relief for my heated skin. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I drove." He says through clenched teeth, hot on my heels.

"And I'm walking." I bite back, walking past the car as he climbs into the driver's seat.

"Riley!" Baekhyun bellows, putting the Audi in gear and slowly following me out of the parking lot. "Get in the fucking car!"

I cross my arms, scoffing out a laugh. It doesn't matter where the hell I am, I'm not getting back in that car with him. Bringing me all the way out here just to pull that shit. He can kiss my ass. I knew I shouldn't have gotten in that car with him. If I had taken my own four-seat beauty that I left back at home, I'd be halfway on the way to Jenny's by now.

Baekhyun continues to follow behind me, honking obnoxiously, attracting unwanted attention from bystanders that whisper amongst themselves. Some of them pull out their phones. What a spectacle we would make for the front cover of magazines, endlessly entertainment for all their peering eyes. Pausing for a moment to weigh my options, I step towards the Audi with a sigh, climbing in without a word to the fuming man next to me.

Baekhyun drives on, clutching onto the steering wheel with both hands. His grip is so tight his knuckles turn white. I direct my gaze out of the passenger window, avoiding him at all costs within the confines of the car. The long ride home and walk up to our apartment does nothing to ease my rage. Anger continues to thump angrily in my veins as the past two hours replay in my mind.

Baekhyun unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I walk into the apartment with a scoff, moving to tug off my boots only for my back to meet the wall, the front door closing with a startling slam.

"What was that?" Baekhyun glares at me, fire burning bright in his brown orbs. He can't exactly tower over me, but by his mannerism, he doesn't need any extra height to get his point across.

"What was that?" I mumble, peeling off my shoes, ducking under his arm to cross the other side of the room. The longer I stay in these warm clothes, the more I die from the uncomfortable heat.

"No, what the actual fuck, Riley?" He shakes his head, long strands of silver hair dangling in his fury-filled eyes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Fine." I retort, rolling my eyes and looking at him, "Who was that woman then?"

His nostrils flare. "Really?" He bites out, laughing in disbelief. "Is that really important right now?"

I cross the room in three strides, tilting my chin up to stand nose to nose with him. "It is to me if you haven't fucking noticed."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He scoffs, stepping back. A cruel smile curls on his lips. "What should I do? I haven't paid Riley enough attention." All traces of humor leave his features, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. Baekhyun leans in again, his voice lowering into an angered growl. "Maybe if you weren't wetting yourself over me all morning, you'd figure it out."

I grind my teeth. "Who. Was. She?"

"For fuck-" Baekhyun reels back, his brown eyes rolling so hard into the back of his head a flicker of worry sparks in my chest before those dark orbs land on me again. "An ex-fling," he grits out. "Why does it matter?"

My hands fall limply to my sides. "Why didn't you tell me she would be there?" I ask. My voice is much quieter while I search his eyes for answers.

"What?" He scoffs, raising a brow. "How was I supposed to know she would be there?"

"Her name was on the roster-"

"I-" He shakes his head, pulling harshly on his hair. "What? Do you expect me to know the names of the women I've slept with?" A smirk quirks at his pink lips, his brown eyes so dark that his pupils have vanished in their mahogany depths. "Do you think I've kept some journal? " He purrs, grinning in delight when I shuffle uncomfortably on my feet. "Are you really that insecure?"

I stiffen. A bolt of something sinister shoots down my spine. Did this fucker just—

"Me?" I point to myself with wide eyes, laughing incredulously. "Me?.... You know, that's real fucking rich coming from you." I sneer, roughly tugging off my annoying turtleneck. What was once a reliable piece of clothing ends up torn in my fit of rage. I fling it out of my sight. Baekhyun's words loop over and over in my head. Even though I don't show it—they cut me. Deep. On a touchy subject. In a part of me I thought had died 2 years ago. He damn well knows it hurts when it's mentioned in such a menacing manner, and he still did it. For what? His weak stamina in wake of his long hours at work is suddenly the equivalent to the root of my trust issues?

My fingers curl so tightly into a fist, I can feel my nails pierce the skin. "You're one to talk." It's easier this way; keeping my back turned to him so I can mask the tears brimming my eyes. Who does he think he is? Who is he, period? How is this the same adoring man that was pursuing me the summer we met?.... It takes all my effort not to bolt for the front door—not to let my nose run or tears to stream down my face. No. I won't cry over him again. I won't let him win. Not like this.

Firm in my resolve, I take a deep breath before turning to him again. "You're not so confident, Mr. Big Shot..." My words falter at the sight of him ripping his shirt open, black buttons clattering all over the floor. "What-"

Baekhyun has me backed against the wall before I can utter another word. "Did you enjoy yourself?" He demands, holding my chin between his thumb and index finger. He peers down into my eyes; the familiar look held in his dark orbs has me quivering on the inside—and it isn't from fear. "Hmm? Did you enjoy embarrassing me earlier? Did you have your fun?"

I quickly recover. "Not my fault you don't know how to keep it in your pants."

"You wish you were in my pants." He grits out, lips curling mockingly.

There are so many things I want to throw up in his handsome face right now. So many little secrets and observations I've made over the past year that would make him falter—make him kneel. But today...

Today.

I choose violence.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, I yank on his delicate locks without remorse, pulling him into a brutal kiss of tongue and teeth. Baekhyun grunts in surprise, pressing me harder against the wall. The harsh clash of our mouths only seems to egg him on. The stinging bite he leaves on my bottom lip is nearly enough to break the skin. I don't know how long we stand there; my hands in his hair and his palms sliding down my back. There's no telling where he ends or I begin until the lack of air sinks in. His breathless puffs for air erupt goosebumps on my skin.

"Are we really doing this?" He pants, pulling away to brush his hair back. His eyes are more familiar to me now, softened by his calmer state, intense from the lust felt in his every touch.

I pause my exploration of his firm chest, arching a brow at him with a mocking grin. "Think you can last longer than a minute this time?"

Baekhyun clenches his jaw and steps away. For a moment, I worry if I pushed him too far until his lips crash back to mine. "Jump," He mutters gruffly, his grip near bruising on my ass.

"And if I don't..." The look in his eyes as he drags his dark brown eyes up to mine shuts me up entirely.

Baekhyun slowly leans closer, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear. "I'll fuck you against the goddamn window." The serious expression on his face combined with the threat is damn near intimidating—and I hate how aroused it leaves me.

Baekhyun hoists me up and walks to our room with quick strides, relentlessly keeping his lips glued to mine. He pushes open the door before dropping me unceremoniously onto the mattress. His lips are back on mine before I can chastise him for the mini heart attack, his impatient hands tug at the rest of my clothes. I let him pull off my pants and hurriedly move to unclip my bra in the meantime before his rough actions can rip the expensive fabric.

Baekhyun freezes above me, brown eyes transfixed on my matching red lacy set. It may be winter, but that doesn't mean I can't dress up nicely underneath endless layers of flannel and wool. Although, when I think about what happened not too long ago... Warmth fills my cheeks and I know I'm blushing way too hard to have done this countless times with him.

"Ah." Baekhyun tsks, stopping me from covering my chest. "Take it off." He breathes, soft lips brushing over my neck. "Let me see these tits bounce for me."

My eyes widen at his crude words, a gasp escapes my parted lips when he sucks harshly on a sensitive spot on my neck, pulling down the straps of my bra at a snail's pace. The poor clothing is tossed over his shoulder without a care in the world.

I'm no stranger to Baekhyun's habit of leaving pink and red hues on my skin, but today is different—today it feels like he has something to prove by trapping my skin between his teeth, marking me as his. He doesn't stop at my neck; his restless mouth ventures lower, painting my collarbones and chest with the shape of his lips.

I grit my teeth as he reaches my breasts, determined not to let him win me over so easily. It doesn't matter how much I want to melt under his warm hands mapping out the contours of my waist or tremble in anticipation at his breath fanning over my sensitive nipples. No matter what, I will not crumble... until he does first, at least.

Yeah—easier said than done with the way he's tugging my nipple with his teeth, roughly rolling the other between his fingers. It's all fun and games until his grip tightens on my hip, his pelvis grinding mercilessly against me. A move that has my back arching clear off of the mattress. He just presses me back down to the bed, continuing to alternate between each breast, pulling away minutes later with a wet pop of his lips. He's relentless in using every weak spot of mine. As if he knows what I'm trying to do.

"Not today, baby," He murmurs to my squirming form, chuckling in my ear. I can't help but bite my lip, breath caught in my throat when his hand slides down my body. His large palm covers my clothed core entirely. If it were any other day, I'd be flustered over how true his words from earlier were; the evidence of my previous admiring and current state of euphoria clear as day to his greedy hand, tugging at my last piece of clothing.

My heart races in the realization that I'm lying under him, almost completely bare, as he remains fully clothed besides the ripped shirt clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Ah," Baekhyun smacks my hands away, flashing a grin full of devious intentions. "Don't worry your pretty little head."

He's yanking my underwear down before I can get a word in, tossing them carelessly off the bed and spreading my thighs as far as they'll go.

"Always so ready for me," He muses, spreading my folds apart with his thumbs. I stop breathing entirely when he leans down, spitting onto my pussy. "Your hungry cunt has been waiting all morning for me, hmm?"

My lack of response doesn't bother him in the slightest as he meets my eye, sliding two of his long fingers into my core so suddenly I shout, grabbing his wrist. Baekhyun just pries my fingers off of him before interlocking them with his freehand, bracing our joined hands above my head. My eyes roll back at the burn of the unexpected intrusion. It's a dull, persistent ache while he shoves his fingers deeper into my cunt. He curls them up in a way that has me shaking at the seams, tugging at his silver locks as he brings me dangerously close to the edge. Right when I'm nearing my high, he pulls his fingers out, nonchalantly sucking on them while fiddling with his belt.

I gulp, relaxing back against the sheets. I can't even be mad at this point. Our argument ended the moment I started that fiery-filled kiss, but—

Baekhyun's belt clatters to the floor and his brown eyes have never looked so fierce—so carnal, I wonder if he plans to eat me alive. What I don't expect is for him to crawl further up the bed like an actual predator hunting his prey to hover over me again; his gaze not straying from mine for a second. The warmth of his body encloses me; it's second nature to relax under him when we're like this—when we're touching the tip of the iceberg before diving headfirst into the chilly depths of our lust. Sex with Baekhyun isn't like playing with fire; it's handling dry ice with bare hands.

And being in love with him is one of the most intense and excruciating experiences of my life.

We spend so much time eye-fucking each other that I'm not prepared for the bruising kiss he pulls me into, sliding his cock into my core without a warning.

"Ah—B-Baek!"

"Hmm?" He humors, his low voice filled with lust. "Now she speaks."

"Baekhyun." I gasp when he spreads my thighs wider; the pull from the unfamiliar stretch adds to his incessant pounding—his hips seeming to snap a mile a minute. Oh, please—please don't let both of us have muscle strain tomorrow morning. I swear I've never seen him move this fast for anything. Ever. Baekhyun, what the fuck? Have you started back up on your late-night visits to the gym or something? He's reaching depths he hasn't quite reached before, hitting a spot inside my core that makes me want to cringe away and slam myself onto his cock at the same time.

I yelp out when he tilts my hips at a different angle, not meaning to scratch his back so hard in my hurry to cling onto him. Baekhyun just groans, slamming rougher into me in retaliation, his teeth firmly bite down onto my shoulder.

"Baekhyun! what the—ah—fuck!?" I nearly shriek, appalled and aroused.

Baekhyun smirks, sliding a hand down to press his thumb on my clit. "What's the matter, baby?"

"B-" I can't even say his name without stammering, shaking under him when he slows down to roll his entire body against mine. The only thing I'm capable of at this point is gripping his shoulders, throwing my head back with a loud moan. I always thought of myself as not being a fan of sweat or having any strange, warm liquids touching me, but Baekhyun... Fucking Baekhyun. His sweaty chest brushing over my nipples is making me lose my damn mind—if I was feeling any more horny and adventurous, I'd lick the salty sweat off of his neck.

"Come on." Baekhyun pants with a satisfied grin. Sweat continues to drip from his honey-toned skin, sticking silver locks to his forehead. "Tell me."

The fucker, he knows exactly what's up. It's written all over his face. A part of me doesn't want to beg—my rational side. The one chastising me for falling into bed with him again in the first place. But I don't know how much longer I can take his teasing antics, so despite my stubbornness—despite the heart aching memories creeping up on me in such an intimate moment; I press my body to his.

"Fuck me like you mean it." I pant, yanking harshly on his hair, smirking at his pained hiss until his hips undulate in a new direction. The constant stimulation on my most sensitive spots has my high sneaking up on me so quickly, I don't have time to warn him.

"Bae—!"

Baekhyun's lips crash to mine, swallowing my cry of his name as I fall over that blissful edge. His cock is the only thing on my mind amongst the ringing in my ears—in the minute-long paradise where nothing else matters but our frantic hearts racing as one.

Baekhyun lets out a telling grunt before a burst of warmth fills me up. The remains of his release drip down my thighs with his erratic, shaky thrusts. He doesn't even pull out when he's done. He just leans tiredly over me, coaxing my lips into a lazy kiss. "You're the only one for me." He whispers as if sharing the biggest secret, all rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed.

Beautiful; there's no other way to describe him—in general, in this moment. Nothing compares to his mocha brown eyes that shine brighter than a million stars when his steady gaze sets on me. Nothing compares to the safety of his warm embrace that surrounds me. Nothing could come close to the way he drives me crazy in every single way. Love. Lust. Doesn't matter. If it's with him—for him, it's...

...

Is it worth it?

The emptiness I feel when he gently pulls himself from me triggers every painful memory imaginable: my birthday, the party, our summer fight, his ex, that phone call, his photoshoot...

Baekhyun collapses beside me on the bed, completely oblivious to the war going on in my head. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to his beating heart.

I wait for him to fall asleep, brushing damp silver locks of hair out of his eyes as his breathing slows. He looks so peaceful like that, so innocent while his face relaxes with sleep. So... So welcoming, like home.

Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision of his twitching brows and pouted lips. I hope he's happy; I hope he got what he wanted.

Carefully sliding out from under his loving hold, I quietly get dressed, collect my duffle bag, and slip out of the room, holding onto the doorknob for dear life. His quiet mumbles drift through the crack of the door, tossing and turning as if already aware of my absence. I have to cover my mouth to contain my sobs.

I love him—I really do, but I...

I can't do this.

I can't take this anymore. If he won't open up to me; if he thinks I'm... I'm unworthy of knowing his past—hell, fuck that. Apparently caring too much leads to being left behind, if that encounter this morning is anything to go by.

My laughter just ends in more sobs, the salty taste of tears on my tongue more bitter with the realization that once again, I've lost.

But at what cost?

The ache in my chest and between my legs is an answer within itself—the last push I need to retrieve my car keys from the counter.

If he wants to be that way, Baekhyun... Baekhyun can do whatever the fuck he wants. What's the difference between me and all the others? What use am I? Is it because I learned how to cook? Clean? I wonder how many of those late nights at work are actually spent bent over his sketchpad. Am I his personal little stay-at-home trophy? Does it feel good to show me around important events? After today, I might as well hang up the thought of ever stepping into his world again. No one wants a possessive girlfriend in their corner of the wrestler ring. No one needs a jealous, nosy, demanding burden weighing them down. And I have my high standards as well.

I can—and will not—be one of those girls.

Not even for him.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: I can feel the pitchforks on the rise, l-listen (<.<) just trust me on this, not all is lost.... Or is it? 😇 I’ll try to finish the next part as soon as I can. *cracks fingers* let’s see what this troubled couple gets up to next.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #Six Phases

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