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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

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Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

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The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

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i-ship-therefore-i-am · 3 years ago

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the first bit of the kissing fic I’ve been working on for ages: (read it on AO3 here.)

Wei Wuxian’s attention has chased Lan Wangji since the first day they met—relentless, unforgiving, his eyes always looking. One day Lan Wangji can’t help but look back.

Or: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji share a moment of honesty during their time in Xuanwu cave, and how everything afterward changes (and doesn’t).

break upon your shore

“Cloud Recesses has been burned.”

Lan Wangji has finally done it, said aloud the words he has been holding back in the face of Wei Ying’s endless pestering. Days spent ignoring the litany of Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Days of deflecting demanding questions about what happened. Days of concern and care he doesn’t need. Shouldn’t need.

My leg is fine.

I am fine.

Everything is fine.

Leave me alone.

(Don’t.)

(Don’t go.)

(Don’t leave me alone.)

As Lan Wangji finally gives in, speaks the fate of the Cloud Recesses, he remembers why it was so important to resist in the first place. The moment the words are through his lips, said to Wei Ying of all people, everything threatens to crumble, a great reverberating fault line widening in his chest.

He switches from irritation and anger to sadness so quickly that he feels unmoored, like the flames of the fire in front of them in the dark cave—dancing wildly, ready to consume and destroy from within.

It is not as if Wei Ying didn’t already know about the Cloud Recesses, as if Wen Chao had not crowed about it as he dragged Wei Ying off to a dungeon that spit him back out covered in blood and a fatigue that no smile could completely cover. Though Wei Ying tried, of course. He always did.

So flippant and unregulated. So aggravatingly frivolous about everything, not only others’ hearts, but his own safety.

“Are your people safe?” Wei Ying asks now, voice soft and delicate as if he can tell Lan Wangji is reeling even as he keeps himself still. So very still. “Your uncle? Your brother?”

Lan Wangji does not allow himself to look away from the flames, to move so much as a muscle in reaction. Does not look at the face he knows will be earnest and beautiful, not when he is stuck as he is in this cave where there is nowhere to hide from it. “My uncle was badly wounded. My brother is missing.”

These are the facts. Cold. Hard. Unchangeable.

“Zewu-Jun is missing?” Wei Ying asks, tone voicing the pain in his own heart. His shoulder presses closer against Lan Wangji’s side.

Because Wei Ying is reckless and foolish and irritating and inescapable, and worst of all he is endlessly, violently kind.

Lan Wangji’s eyes flood with wetness.

Shameful. Where is his control? Emotional displays do not change facts. They never have.

He closes his eyes tight, both because he can feel the drag of exhaustion in his bones but also to escape the painful beauty of Wei Ying’s face in the flickering firelight. His teasing smile and laughter that is not Lan Wangji’s and is not meant for him and never will be. So easily spread to many with no true intent. But to escape also the tears he has almost let fall, the way Wei Ying’s provoking laughter has fallen away, leaving something even more maddening. No jokes at his expense, just an understanding that makes it impossible to keep his control perfect and undented the way it must always be. In front of Wei Ying more than anywhere else.

He will not be weak enough to cry. To give something for Wei Ying to make a mockery of. Or perhaps worse, to be seen. Understood. That somehow seems even more treacherous.

Wei Ying continues to speak softly, and Lan Wangji lets the chatter flow over him like a lullaby, like a comfort that it has no right to be. Lets it push away all thoughts of the Cloud Recesses and his brother and embarrassment and yearning. The endless confusing tangle Wei Ying sows in him. How he hates it and longs for it.

He just needs to rest. To reestablish his equilibrium. Then everything will stop tilting to the side, his foundations will solidify.

Only then, unexpectedly, soft cloth settles across his body. Warm hands settle on his shoulders. Ignore it, he orders himself. Sleep. Escape.

Against his will, his eyes flutter open. So undisciplined, so out of control.

Wei Ying is leaning over him, so, so near as he settles his outer robe over Lan Wangji, a soft look of something like fondness in his expression.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, face close enough that Lan Wangji can see the faint blush rise on his cheeks. So close that his breath stirs the air against his face, soothing and provoking all at once. Just as Wei Ying himself has always been.

Wei Ying’s thumbs rub absently across the curve of Lan Wangji’s shoulders, giving him a sheepish smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

Maybe he is asleep. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe he is just broken and tired and unable to resist. The fleeting, thoughtless caress of Wei Ying’s hands against his shoulders spilling everything over. Because somehow Lan Wangji forgets that this means nothing. Means nothing to Wei Ying. Only thinks how much he wants it to mean something.

His hand lifts, fingers touching softly against the warmth of Wei Ying’s cheek, chasing the burn of color there, like seeking proof. When his choice is between doing this and crying, this feels only marginally safer.

“Uh, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, not moving, but eyes widening. “Is there something on my—”

He stops talking as Lan Wangji’s thumb presses into the corner of that devastating, infuriating, teasing grin.

Lan Wangji briefly wonders if this is what being drunk feels like. If this is why it is forbidden, if such a state makes people just do as they please without fear of consequence. If it makes bodies incapable of being still and doing nothing which is the choice he should have made. Usually makes.

Wei Ying has not pulled away, just blinks back at Lan Wangji for long moments before swaying even closer. His mouth opens on a gentle exhalation and Lan Wangji curls his fingers into the soft skin of Wei Ying’s neck just behind the sharp jut of his jaw. Presses in.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, wonderingly, his voice sliding down Lan Wangji’s spine, flaring heat low in his belly.

“Wei Ying,” he says, their same endless call and response. His voice sounds wrong though. He’s giving too much away, is too ragged to hide it. Too worn to brace for the inevitable pain and embarrassment that will follow, this thing he has fought against for so long. To lose Wei Ying at last to hatred and disgust.

Maybe Lan Wangji really is nothing without his ribbon lashing him together.

It’s a horrible, shameful thought, but he has no time to linger on it because Wei Ying’s face is dipping even closer, his lips brushing against his.

It’s almost a question, the gentle not-quite-there touch, Wei Ying’s eyes still open as he watches Lan Wangji’s face, nose softly bumping against his cheek. Nudging. Testing his boundaries. As always.

It takes everything in Lan Wangji not to surge into the touch, to not just take what he has wanted for so long even as he fought against it. He is still half-braced for the laughter, for the punch line, for Wei Ying to dance back out of reach the second he tries. Did you honestly think I could want you? Want a pillar of ice?

He does not want to believe Wei Ying could ever be that cruel. Even unknowingly.

“Do not joke,” Lan Wangji somehow manages to say, wanting to sound harsh and unbending, wanting to shove and retreat, but knowing instead how broken and pleading his words are. Wanting. His hand is not pushing away, but curling tight into the silken strands of Wei Ying’s hair.

Wei Ying studies his face, something painfully sincere there. “I won’t. I wouldn’t.”

But rather than pulling back, than ending this horrible torment that Lan Wangji only has himself to blame for, Wei Ying presses closer, lips firm and warm against his.

Lan Wangji’s entire body threatens to shudder under the sensation, emotions rioting and fighting to escape his control. He sucks in a breath through his nose and closes his eyes in a panicked attempt to find equilibrium. It has the effect of focusing all his senses down on the feel of Wei Ying’s lips, the heat of his nearness, the relentless thud of his own heart. None of this centers him. Not when the simple press of dry lips is already almost too much. No where near enough.

He has to stop himself from starting at the sensation of fingers against his cheek, Wei Ying moving closer, pressure increasing. Lan Wangji’s lips give way to him as a soft round sound tries to break free of his throat.

He lets Wei Ying kiss him like this, remaining still and open under him, heat insidiously blooming in his chest, yet too afraid to give anything back, that the moment he tries to reach for more it will be snatched away. (But, how much he also wants, wants, wants.) He can’t resist the cautious flick of his tongue against Wei Ying’s lower lip where it presses between his, wanting to taste him. Wei Ying jerks, only to meet him immediately, mouth open and eager, welcoming, somehow seeming to know what it is Lan Wangji wants when he barely knows himself.

Wei Ying presses even closer, a whiney sound at the back of his throat that seems to reverberate in Lan Wangji’s own flesh like an echo or answering note. Deep. Abiding. Unescapable. He is drowning. He is coming up for a first true gasp of air.

Everything retreats unexpectedly as Wei Ying jostles Lan Wangji’s leg—sharp, unforgiving pain shooting through his entire body, enough to cut through the heavy haze of desire.

Lan Wangji hisses, feeling sweat break out on his brow, black spots in his vision. He is reeling and lost, bouncing between opposing sensations.

Wei Ying pulls out of reach. “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe—I wasn’t thinking. Is your leg okay? Of course, it’s not okay. Let me see. Did I ruin it? Does it hurt a lot?” His hand lands on Lan Wangji’s thigh as he twists to look at it, but Lan Wangji couldn’t care less about his leg in the moment. He should. That would be the proper thing.

None of this is proper.

The pain recedes as he concentrates on the wanton heat of Wei Ying’s palm on his thigh, the flush of Wei Ying’s face, his lips shiny and full and well-kissed. By Lan Wangji. That was done by him. The satisfaction unfurling in his chest is a solid, dangerous thing.

Wei Ying still babbles and apologizes, the words echoing and building against the stone walls. Lan Wangji briefly shuts his eyes against it, centering himself, even as he wants to know what, exactly, Wei Ying is apologizing for. But also afraid to know.

Do not be of two minds, he thinks automatically, and tries to let it calm him, contain him. But it is hollow, as he has always been of two minds when it comes to Wei Ying.

“Are you sorry?” he finds himself asking.

Wei Ying looks at him, eyes wide. “Of course, I am! Your leg—”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Not my leg.”

Wei Ying stills, and only because they are still so close, because Lan Wangji is staring at him so brazenly, unable to look away, does he see the moment of raw feeling—something like worry and pain, and more vulnerable than he would ever think to see from Wei Ying—before his expression slips carefree and teasing again.

His body is all fluttering movement in an instant, and Lan Wangji considers that can be as much a cover as stillness. It’s a startling thought, one he files away carefully to think on more when he has the chance.

Wei Ying rubs at the back of his head, smiling widely. “Oh, uh. Yes. I can apologize for that too if you like. I thought…but I probably thought wrong! And now I’ve horribly offended you. Yet again. So maybe you can just please forget I did that and we can pretend, even though, honestly, I think I’d much rather do that again, every day if you would let me, and, boy, is that something I was not expecting, but I know that you barely tolerate me and I’d rather you didn’t hate me, so we can just chalk it up to—”

Lan Wangji grabs Wei Ying’s shoulder and cuts him off by dragging his mouth back to his. Like he’s possessed, wild. And maybe he is because this time he does not sit passive under Wei Ying’s kisses, finally giving way to what he wants, mouth taking and demanding because Lan Wangji is always listening carefully when Wei Ying speaks and Wei Ying said he wants to do this again. Every day if he would let him.

Wei Ying makes the most ridiculously wanton sound against his mouth and Lan Wangji wants to swallow it down and let it live inside of him forever.

Wei Ying slides his hands into Lan Wangji’s hair, fingers pressing into the curve of his skull, each pad of his finger a bright spot of energy shooting straight down his spine. Lan Wangji lets out a gasp, pulling his mouth away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and Wei Ying immediately protests, shuffling forward on his knees, nearly falling over in his eagerness.

Lan Wangji presses his hand to the flat of Wei Ying’s back to steady him. He guides him closer out of range of his leg that no longer hurts in the slightest and maybe that should be worrying but the thought flitters away, because Wei Ying is closer now, at last, knee pressing up against the outside of his thigh right before he crushes his mouth back to Lan Wangji’s.

Everything is heat and pressure and the slide of Wei Ying’s tongue against his, Lan Wangji feeling as if he’s swallowed an entire wildfire, not the steady power and warmth of his core, but something writhing and sparking.

With Wei Ying nearly in his lap now, there is no part of him that is not easily within reach, and Lan Wangji’s hands are greedy, like this might be something snatched away at any moment. He methodically discovers the planes of his sides, his back. Wei Ying’s sinfully red robe is so thin under Lan Wangji’s palm, hiding none of the heat or shifting muscles of his back as he reaches and writhes and never stops moving because he is Wei Ying, even while doing this, so much Wei Ying. Lan Wangji wants his mouth on every inch of Wei Ying’s body with an intensity that winds him. He can no longer feel shame for it. Just wants, sharp and liquid.

He is dizzy with the continued assault of Wei Ying’s mouth and lips and tongue and it is somehow too much and not enough, too far and not close enough.

Lan Wangji twists his hand in the front of Wei Ying’s robe, needing him closer, needing him to still, just needing something to hold onto and Wei Ying lets out a sharp yelp of pain. Lan Wangji jerks back, releasing his grip, Wei Ying’s mouth pulling free from his with a wet sound that is going to haunt him forever.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Wei Ying says between bouts of shaky laughter. “We have perhaps not chosen the best moment for this.”

“I apologize,” Lan Wangji says, horrified to have so thoughtlessly caused him pain.

Wei Ying shakes his head, pressing a hand to the still-seeping brand on his chest. “No, no. A little pain is worth it. Believe me.”

Lan Wangji can’t help but feel the flair of annoyance in his chest, everything inside him writhing and upside down and not in its proper place. “Worth having her remember you always?”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen, another laugh spilling from his lips. “Heavens. I read that so wrong didn’t I? I mean, you werejealous. But not of Mianmian. I can’t believe that. Am I dreaming right now?”

Wei Ying looks delighted, and Lan Wangji has to look away, feeling his ears burn, not sure if being so transparent is mortifying or if he’s simply relieved for Wei Ying to finally see him, if that is better than Wei Ying’s misguided teasing and blindness.

But Wei Ying doesn’t relent long enough for Lan Wangji to clarify his own thoughts. “I actually meant a little pain was worth kissing you, by the way. This entire fucking disaster is worth getting to kiss you. Isn’t that insane to even say? But it’s how I feel right now. Even if you come to your senses the moment we get rescued. Or you actually get some sleep.” There is something bittersweet under his smile, and Lan Wangji realizes he has let himself be far too dazzled by those grins to see what might be hiding underneath. Or maybe too scared to look long enough to be able to notice.

He will set himself to the task of learning better to see it. To know each and every inflection. He’s never looking away again.

“I am always sensible,” Lan Wangji says.

Wei Ying laughs again, patting absently at his shoulder. “Yes, yes. I certainly didn’t mean to offend. No one could speak against Lan-er-gongzi’s levelheadedness.”

Lan Wangji feels Wei Ying is deliberately misunderstanding him for some reason, but he has no shame left, having already broken himself open so effectively, having now felt what it is to have Wei Ying in his arms. Willingly. Enthusiastically. There is no lying to himself. And there is no lying to Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji reaches for the back of Wei Ying’s neck, pulling him near.

Wei Ying’s hands flap a bit in surprise, but he comes willingly, everything in him seeming to go still, almost hanging from his grip, and this is another reaction Lan Wangji wants to learn more about. Some time when he is less exhausted.

Only once Wei Ying’s face is nearly touching his own, their eyes looking directly into each other, does Lan Wangji speak again. “I am always sensible,” he repeats. He has not lost his sense. He has only taken what he has always wanted. What he will always want. There will be no recanting. To think he would is offensive to him.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, his eyes blown wide. “Oh.”

Lan Wangji hums in agreement, attention caught by the sight of Wei Ying’s lips even as he feels exhaustion tugging relentlessly, his eyes heavy.

“So this isn’t just like, I don’t know, temporary insanity?”

Lan Wangji gives him a flat, unimpressed stare before leaning back against the cave wall behind him. “Long term insanity.” There can be no other way to describe the confliction he has been plagued with for so long.

Wei Ying lets out a startled laugh, and this one feels real and earned by Lan Wangji and it’s the most lovely sound he’s ever heard. “Lan Zhan!” he says, delighted and scandalized.

He feels his eyes sliding shut, his exhaustion a solid thing dragging him down. “Since I first met Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, this time soft and a bit thick. “I like you so much.”

Lan Wangji struggles to stay awake, to open his eyes, to think of something to say in response, something right, but he can only squeeze Wei Ying’s arm where he is still holding it. Never wants to let go of.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. Go to sleep.” There’s the soft press of what must be Wei Ying’s lips against his forehead, right where his ribbon should be, seductive warmth spreading out through his entire body from the simple touch. “Sleep now.”

“Wei Ying,” he mumbles one last time, and then drifts off.

#the untamed #my fic #wangxian #yes there is more #this fic is currently demanding to follow through the rest of canon after #lol #or at least a lot of it #cause #you know #how kissing makes everything later better #because i feel like once lan zhan makes up his mind about something and commits to it WATCH OUT #he won't deviate from that path #he's at his worst when conflicted #and at his stubborn best when he is not

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fieryhonesty · 4 years ago

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“Story’s based on a request from a Nonnie and they are right! Our Xiao needs hugs and rest a bit.”

Words: 1910

Genre: fluff, f!reader

Xiao is always keeping things for him. He will never seek company to share his burdens. After all, there is no trouble which will last long enough, he says. However he can't deny there are moments when he is fed up. Be it the never ending war he fights or his own problems. Which are having roots back in history.

Sometimes there's too much to handle at once, yet he stands tall and faces it headon. Never argues or falters with decisions. As long as it means he can protect Liyue.

To anyone who has never seen him or rarely, he looks like a strong and cold man. But is he really like this? He is an Adeptus, he has seen a lot and experienced some battle scars. Was Xiao always like this? Back in the days when all other Yaksha existed.

Many things happened in his life. He can't even count or remember it all. But all those things made him who he is now. Although there are things which still surprise or confuse him.

He never liked showing himself in front of mortals. There are just a few ones which he tolerates or even allows to talk to him. If he is in a good mood of course. The ones who know Xiao also know about keeping distance when he is upset.

But there's one mortal whose boldness or maybe stupidity never ceases to amaze him. He told you so many times to leave him be, added harsh words and yet... you didn't turn away. Instead approached and offered a companionship.

He eventually gave up with chasing the silly female away. At first he didn't know why she was so stubborn. Mortals are strange but you are like one or two levels stranger than anyone else. Just why do you wish to spend time with somebody like him?

You are like a bridge between the silent and closed up Adeptus and mortal realm. Part of him is still hesitant and refuses to share his burdens. He might have allowed you to stay beside him, be it in silence or tell him what you did that day. What strange things happened or something. He would just sit there and listen. But none of this means he will let his guard down. He will always be fully aware of what's happening around.

You are often asking yourself: does he ever rest? As you know him for a while you are able to recognize when he is really sad and you shouldn't say much. Or when he is quite alright and willing to listen to your rambling until you fall asleep. The fact you can peacefully sleep in Xiao's presence amazes him.

Today is one of those nights when he would have preferred to be just alone. But why does he feel this burning desire to pay you a visit? Is it because you didn't come for a few days and he got worried? No. That can't be it. Xiao has no attachment to anybody, especially mortals.

Truth to be told, he feels tired and despite feeling the way he feels. He decides to silently knock on your door. At first he thought he knocked too lightly. For a brief second he thought to himself to leave. Why is he here anyway? But then he heard your footsteps from behind the door.

He feels so conflicted. He shouldn't be here, seeking anyone's company. Solitude and sadness are nothing to him.

When you open the door of your apartment, the cold is immediately making you shiver. Not wasting any second grabbing Xiao's wrist and pulling him inside. The cold is too much for you. How the heck he can just stand there and not shiver?!

Be it anyone else touching him, he would have asked them if they do have a death wish. He got used to your touch at least a bit. You sometimes gently squeezed his hand in a friendly gesture. To assure him you are there, willing to listen to anything or just sit silently and observe the sky.

Letting go of his wrist and looking into his golden eyes. As usually his expression is the same but you can feel he is not alright. His shoulders are unusually down and overall his posture is different.

"Is something wrong?"

You ask with a slightly tilted head to the side. You are not even aware of this, you do it automatically all the time. It's kind of cute but don't expect the Adeptus will say it out loud. He is already confused. He wanted to be alone, why did he come here. He is clearly delaying your bedtime. He should have never come. But the words escaping his lips are even more confusing him.

"You didn't come..."

Is he really worried about a mortal? Didn't he promise to himself to never get any attachment to anyone? Not even to another Adepti.

Your next move is really bold and unexpected. Xiao gasps in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

Perhaps embracing him would not be the brightest idea if you consider how little he knows about human interactions. But you couldn't help yourself. Feeling a bit guilty for making the poor man worried. He already has a lot on his plate.

"I'm sorry if I did worry you."

You said as you gently rubbed his back, drawing circles in a soothing manner.

It took him a while to realize what was going on. He seen this act between other mortals but never cared what does it mean. It's just two people are in close proximity, touching each other. But there's something strange about the act.

Your warmth.

He didn't feel cold while being outside, he is used to it. But when he feels your warmth he can't help it but feel a bit at ease. When you pull back to check on him, he feels a little... sad? Perhaps he missed the opportunity to repay the act.

"You know. There's something I had noticed about you, Xiao."

He lifts an eyebrow at you. Unable to contain the curiosity.

"How much do you trust me?"

You ask while trying to keep your smile. Aware of how much the question doesn’t make sense with what you said before.

Xiao on the other hand is pondering over your question. How much does he trust a mortal like you? And why are you asking him in the first place?

"That's stupid thing to ask. You should have known the answer already."

There we go again. Xiao and his not so sugar coated words. Surely you know he has at least a bit more trust in you than other humans. But would he let you touch him even more? No matter how you put it, it will sound wrong.

"Well then... it just crossed my mind out of nowhere but. Uh... There's something that always bugged me. Do you ever rest or relax at all? I mean yes you do just hang around at Wangshu here and now. But I mean like a real rest..."

You had to stop yourself. Feeling how your monologue was getting worse by each said word.

"I don't need to-"

"Yes, you do."

Oh no. It slipped out faster than you could think of it. He is silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Did you anger him? It's quite easy to do it after all.

"What do you propose then?"

"Eh?"

"Don't 'eh' at me. If you think I need to relax then you should have an idea how."

You are finally on the same page. Sometimes you hate your brain to jump into way too fast conclusions. You motion for him to follow you to your living room where you both sit on the sofa. Telling him to sit turned back to you.

You are sitting behind him. What are you planning? Ah! A gasp escaped his lips making him feel embarrassed. You just barely touched his shoulders. Not even using too much force, just a gentle squeeze to test waters.

"So, can I give you something that my mom calls a medicine for tired muscles?"

A simple massage. Just by a single touch you could feel how tense his muscles are. He nods. Being glad you can't see his face now. Biting his bottom lip. He didn't know how much his back actually hurts. Not paying attention to it anymore. But now, he is melting under your touch.

You try to be gentle but also applying some pressure to help his muscles to relax. You had learned how to massage when you were teen as your mother always had back pain from her work. This was the fastest help, along with pain killers.

Xiao deeply exhales, closing his eyes. He hates to admit it but this feels good, maybe too good. Perhaps he could let his guard down for a bit, at least for now. Letting your skilled fingers caress him. Exhaustion and fatigue is slowly getting under his skin. And this warm feeling, he wants more. Just like when you embraced him a while ago.

You noticed how much he relaxed under your hands. You can't help it but smile from ear to ear. The mighty Guardian, always so rigid can't endure the pleasant feeling.

"If you are tired you can sleep over, I don't mind. Unless... you have plans to mess up your back just right when I fix them up?"

You had secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear when you are done. You know when he leaves your place he will go back to his stiff attitude again.

"Somebody has to keep you safe at night. Take it as a payment..."

You giggle as he says that. You could tease him about admitting he likes this but decided to rather not.

When you were done and brought him a spare blanket you noticed his blush. Not saying anything and just offering the warm cover. What you did not expect was him grabbing your wrist.

"Xiao?"

"How can... I keep you safe if you are in the other room?"

Oh damn. Your brain is preoccupied with why he just won't admit he wants to keep you close.

"Um, you want to move the sofa into my bedroom?"

He groans. Why you must play dumb now? All he wants is more of your warmth. When you embraced him, when you touched him. He felt at ease which is new to him. Is it too much to ask for more? Well, maybe he should actually ask and be straight for once.

"Just... stay close."

"Oh-"

That escalated quickly. For both of you. You decided to spare him from more suffering as you could see his face was slowly turning to tomato color. And you? You weren't much better. Turning off the lights before sliding under the blanket. For once being glad to have a bigger sofa.

As you are both laying on your sides you feel Xiao's hand hesitantly go over you to pull you closer to him. Don't even think of escaping when he falls asleep. He has you secure. And certainly he won't admit any of this the next morning.

He is tired and confused by his behavior but he decided to blame it on his fatigue. You better don't mention any of this. Not even the way he is having a firm grip of your clothes. Or how quickly he fell asleep.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #f!reader #xiao #fluff a lot of it #fiery request

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Visiting Hemlock-Dream

This is a Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! Small thing, hemlock is another type of poison. It is actually the poison that the Greek philosopher Socrates was forced to consume after he was found guilty in his trail.

Masterlist here

This is a part two to Sweet as Cyanide (here), so if you haven’t read that yet you can check it out . Don’t worry. I’ll wait…..

All good? Okay here we go!

Y/N is finally able to visit Dream in prison.

Y/N’s POV

“Are you sure about this? You know no one would blame you if you never wanted to see him again,” Niki questioned, a soft hand resting on my shoulder. I had to force myself not to roll my eyes and scoff. Instead, I settled for a fake shy smile and a small head nod, “I know Nik. But I really want to see him. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it,” I explained, hoping desperately she would leave it at that. Niki gave me a pitiful smile as she nodded, giving my arm a tight squeeze. “I know what you mean… I’ll be right here when you get out,” She assured, wrapping her arms around me in a quick hug before taking a few steps back. “Thanks Niki. I’ll see you in a bit,” I claimed softly before turning toward the prison. I took a deep breath before making my way to the entrance.

I let out a deep breath as I reached up and pressed the button, letting Sam know I was there. A noise sounded letting me know I could enter and pass through the grid. I was greeted by Sam at his desk. “Hey Y/N” Sam greeted me, holding a stack of papers. “Hey Sam,” I greeted back, my eyes scanning around the place. “This looks really nice,” I complimented the warden on his build. “Thank you!” He beamed, handing the papers he held to me. “These are just waiver you need to sign. They basically say that you release the prison from all responsibility if you get hurt and that that responsibility falls on the prisoner you are visiting.” He explained, handing me a pen. I hummed and quickly scanned the documents before signing them.

Sam quickly took them and tucked them away in his desk before standing up and moving out from behind the desk. “Alright. We’re good to move on.” I followed him out of the room and into a room full of chests. “Please put all your things in this chest here,” He asked, motioning to a chest near the door. I gave him a nod before quickly emptying my inventory. Once I was done, I turned and proved to Sam that there was nothing left on my person. Sam gave me a smile and a nod before we moved on once more.

My excitement grew as we walked down the path I had only been down once before. My hands seemed to shake at the sight of the lava wall that hid my boyfriend from my view. “Hey, if you’re too nervous to do this, you can turn back around. You don’t have to see him,” Sam comforted, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. He was taking my excitement as nerves… good. I took a deep breath and gave him a shy smile, “I’m okay Sam, really. I want to see him,” I assured the tall man. “Okay… Do you want me to stay here with you or go back to the cams?” Sam questioned, still unsure if he should leave me alone with ‘the monster’. “You can go watch on the cams. I’ll be fine, even if something were to happen you could be back here in a flash,” I claimed with a small smile.

Sam gave me a small nod, “Alright, here you go.” Sam reached over to the wall and pressed the button that controlled the lava. Slowly, the lava stopped falling, revealing my love. I felt my breath catch in my throat at the sight of the blonde boy that had my whole heart. The iron bars fell allowing me free access to Dream. Sam gave me a pat on the back before he disappeared out the door.

I wasted no more time and ran to Dream. A smile, a real smile, formed on his face as I raced toward him. Our bodies crashed together with the swift motion, my arms wrapping around his neck, his around my waist. I squeezed him tightly as I buried my face in his neck. I couldn’t help the tears that fell from my eyes and onto his skin. “I missed you so much bub,” I cried into his neck. “Shhh, love,” he murmured, rubbing one hand up and down my back, holding me close.

“I missed you too. I’ve been so lonely here. I’ve missed your sweet words, your gorgeous face. I miss waking up next to you every morning. I love you so much,” he muttered into my ear, pressing a kiss to my temple. His words shocked me a bit. Yes, I love Dream and he loves me, but he almost never acted like this. “I’ve missed everything about you. I miss your kisses and cuddles. I miss the way you’d threaten everyone for even looking at me in the wrong way. I’ve missed going to sleep next to you, cuddling and waking up the same way. I love you so much too,” I muttered back.

Dream pulled away slightly, just enough to face me before crashing his lips into mine. My eyes fluttered closed as I completely melted into the kiss and into my boyfriend. I missed my love so much. I missed feeling his lips on mine. His gentle touches, his sweet smiles, his manipulation of everyone around us. He’s mine and I am his, no matter what and no matter where.

Dream was the one to pull away from our kiss. “God I’ve missed that,” He announced, grinning from ear to ear. I couldn’t help but giggle and return the grin, “I’ve missed that too.” Dream slowly unwrapped himself from me, but quickly reached out and took my hand. He walked me over to his bed. He let go of my hand before sitting down on his bed, resting his back against the wall. I raised my eyebrow at his actions but he simply patted his lap telling me to sit down. I giggled and rolled my eyes at the action, but obeyed. I quickly moved my legs so that there was one on either side of his thighs and I sat on his lap. Once again, my arms moved to wrap around his neck and his came to wrap around my voice.

“So,” Dream began once we got settled, “How’s it going out in the free world?” Dream asked, teasingly. I could tell that he was both asking about the server, but was also making a joke about the fact everyone thought that I was now ‘free’ from his control. “It’s all fine, I guess. You were right. Everyone began coddling me the second that prison door slammed behind me. I’ve been staying with Niki because they think going back to our house is too painful for me,” I informed Dream, who simply scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“The more important thing though,” I started, lowering my voice a lot as to not have it picked up by the cameras, “I can’t get a hold of Technoblade. No one has seen him, or at least not that they’re telling me. I went to his house and he wasn’t there, I went to Phil’s house and he said he hadn't seen him. But I’ll keep looking. I’m going to get you out of here.” I promised my boyfriend quietly. Dream’s brow furrowed, “That’s really odd. Especially since Philza hasn’t seen him… He must remember he owes me that favorite. But you have my full trust, love. I know you’ll make me proud.”

My heart swelled at his words. It was so comforting to hear that. Even though weeks ago, he promised me it wasn’t my fault he was here, I could help but still feel guilty about it. Especially because I had to pretend that I was happy he was gone. I didn’t respond with words, instead leaning forward and pressing my face into the side of his neck and pressing a small kiss there. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

The rest of the time we spent together was in that position. I told him about all the new structures that were being built around the server. I told him about how everyone was working together but there was definitely still some tension. Dream didn’t seem surprised at that at all. Dream told me about his days at the prison. He had a small clock gifted to his by Sam. He admitted to me that he would sometimes throw his clock out of his cell into the lava so Sam would come in and bring him a new one, allowing Dream to have some form of human contact. He got three meals a day, but he claimed none have ever been good as my cooking, that made me blush. Dream spent most of his day thinking about me and the things he would be doing if he wasn’t locked up. He kept a little journal in order to keep himself sane.

In a much quieter tone, Dream also told me of the little things he’s noticed about the prison. How the lava always takes a few seconds before it begins its descent. Dream told me he knew that the redstone sometimes would misfire and Sam would have to take the time to fix it. Sometimes it only took a few minutes but there were also times he’d be gone for many hours. Dream also spoke of where he thinks the elder guardian that causes mining fatigue was being held. I listened very carefully to what he was telling me. Sam is an excellent builder, even better engineer, but nobody was perfect and it sounds like to me that Dream was slowly but surely finding Pandora’s Achilles heel.

It felt so good to be in Dream’s arms again though, even in this circumstance. In the many years we’ve been dating, I’ve never been away from Dream for that long before and it was really hard. Which explains why I was so excited for this visit… But alas, all good things must come to an end.

“Times up Y/N…” Sam called softly from the platform behind us. I looked over my shoulder and gave the man a nod in acknowledgement. I turned back to Dream, leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. “Goodbye my love,” I whispered to the blonde man, tears threatening to fall again from my eyes. A smile appeared on his lips, “Goodbye love,” He returned at the same level. I slowly got off of my boyfriend and walked away from Dream. Once I was out of the cell, I turned back around to face Dream, who had also stood up from his bed “I’ll be back soon,” I promised the blonde boy who remained in his cell. A small chuckle left his lips as the iron bars enclosed him once more, “I’ll be here.”

With that, I took a few more steps back to stand next to Sam. I gave my boyfriend a small wave as Sam pressed the button to make the lava begin pouring from the ceiling. I could see Dream's sad smile as he waved back at me and then he was gone.

“You okay?” Sam asked gently, a hand resting on my shoulder. “Yeah,” I sniffed, reaching up and wiping at my eyes, “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thank you for letting me see him,” I thanked, changing the topic. Sam gave me a soft look as he nodded, “Of course. You’re always welcome to come back. I can even show you around to other rooms if you ever want.” I nodded at his words. “That sounds really cool. I’d love to see them. I’d love to see this whole place,” I told him as cooly as I could. The one thing I could not do right now was raise suspicion. “When we get back to the front desk we can set a time and date!” He offered cheerfully. Once again I nodded, this time a bright smile beaming across my face. “I’d like that.

I couldn’t help but mentally chuckle at the situation though. I don’t know why after all this time everyone still thinks I’m just so sweet and innocent. Sam offering to show me around like a father would show his child around his work place on bring your kid to work day simply confirmed that thought even more. Little does he know how hard it’s going to bite him in the butt. I’m going to get my boyfriend out of this Pandora’s Vault…. If it’s the last thing I do.

There you go! I hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like! Maybe even reply or a reblog?

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt one shot #mcyt x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #dream imagine #dream one shot #dreamwastaken imagine #dream x reader #dreamsmp #dream smp #dreamsmp imagine #dream smp imagine #ray writings #ray ray writings #ray-ray-writings #visiting hemlock #requested

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viperbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

The Tie That Binds – [Two of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

The room is cold enough that you can see your breath in the air. Around you, the low hum of activity signals the debrief after a mission well-done, various personnel seeing to their jobs as you do yours.

The Winter Soldier sits as still as a statue in the chair set out for him, already waiting when you’d arrived. You’d been in the middle of some of the best sleep you’d had in weeks when your cell door had flung open, and you’d been unceremoniously dragged from your bed. Even though they blindfolded you every time, by now you knew the way to the debrief room by heart.

You aren’t sure how long they’ve had you, time passes strangely when you only ever saw the inside of a cell. You’d attempted to keep track at first, but eventually you’d lost count of how many days had passed, or if they had at all… for all you know, you’d been counting nights, anyway.

It must have been years at this point.

You work quietly on the Soldier’s arm, the incredible piece of machinery and engineering the only bright spot in your confined life, but even that had worn thin some time ago. You were never permitted to really look at it, just fix any faults or problems that it had. And it certainly had its faults. After you’d first been taken, and you’d realised there was no way you were ever leaving here alive, you’d tried to make do, to make the best of your situation.

After every mission, the Soldier would need repairs made to the artificial limb which, while an astounding piece of biomechanical engineering, seemed to be oddly fragile. You had kept yourself busy, thinking up ways to improve elements of the arm, so that it wouldn't need so many repairs, but when you had approached someone vaguely in charge about it, you’d been told to keep your mouth shut.

Interestingly, a few of your proposed improvements seemed to present the next time you’d worked on him, though, none were executed in ways that made them truly useful.

You keep your head down as you work, eager to finish as soon as possible. You didn’t often pay much mind to the goings-on around you when you were called to service, but the heated conversation happening several meters away from where you sat beside the Soldier put you on edge.

A man in a suit and a man in nondescript military fatigues seemed to be having a barely civil discussion, moving in and out of English, and what you think may be Russian. The man in the military fatigues was one you’d seen plenty of times before. He never spoke to you directly, but the soldiers and guards of the facility responded to him like the lash of a whip. You’d heard him referred to as Karpov, and you can only assume he was in command of this facility.

The man in the suit however, you’d only seen a few times, and only ever in the debrief room when the Soldier had returned from a mission. He was American, his accent made that much clear, but further than that you didn’t know.

You’re still leant over the metal limb, several of its outer panels peeled open and removed so that you may access the mechanics inside, when the heated conversation gets nearer. You flinch at the movement out of the corner of your vision, causing your tweezers to tap into a wire that they really shouldn’t. The result is a small spark, and a slight shock for your ‘patient’, and though he doesn’t move an inch, when you hiss at your own mistake, and swivel your eyes up worriedly, you find he’s dipped his chin enough to watch you out of the corner of his eye.

You can’t tell if he’s glaring or not, his face always sullen and morose, but briefly you feel the urge to apologise.

You don’t however, fearing a reprimand from either of the arguing men who still near.

“You hide behind that book, Karpov.” The American man shakes his head.

“Without me and my book, you are nothing.” Karpov all but spits back. You feel your body stiffen as they begin to circle around the Soldier, and you by extension.

“Is that right?” The American man taunts, stopping on the other side of the chair to you and planting his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Солдат, убей ее.” He commands in perfect Russian.

Before you can even register what is happening, there is a hand around your throat, forcing you back and up, until your feet have left the ground. A crashing sound joins the sudden chaos, your small workbench of tools upended and scattered over the concrete floor, all other personnel in the room backing themselves against walls or desks as they watch on in shock and surprise.

You can only gasp as your airway is constricted, and you’re left to claw pathetically at the hand that has raised you from the ground. Fear and adrenaline fuel your futile fight, and you look desperately to Karpov, who watches on in thinly veiled horror.

Your eyes feel ready to pop from their sockets, your ears filled with nothing but the sound of your own blood when you’re suddenly released, dropping to the ground like a sack of bricks.

You gasp for air, the cold burning your throat and lungs as you drink it down. You scurry back out of pure instinct, spluttering and terrified, sending your fallen tools even further in every direction.

The American turns to his companion, a smug expression smeared across his features. You can’t hear what he says, your senses still too scrambled to pick it up properly, but he gestures to you, leaving Karpov with some final words before he turns on his heel and leaves.

You’re still shaking, gasping for air in terror when Karpov finally turns back to you.

He orders you to finish your work, and then he leaves.

You wake with a soft gasp.

Swallowing thickly, you force your eyes shut again as you take in several deep breaths, calming yourself as best you can. Unable to help yourself, you lift a hand to delicately touch your throat, where the bruises from your dream feel all too real for several seconds, before they fade into memory.

You could have died then, you’re sure of it. All your suffering, all the effort HYDRA went into seeking you out, it would have amounted to nothing. And for what? A petty power play?

It makes you feel small, which makes you angry.

You know they were an evil Nazi organisation and all, but they’d upended your entire life, completely ruined any semblance of normalcy you could ever hope to have again, and they hadn’t even had the decency to act as if you weren’t replaceable.

For all you did know about HYDRA and it’s going ons, there was so much you didn’t know. After you’d been freed, you hadn’t gone out of your way to seek out information, everything you knew was everything you’d found out about during your court hearings.

When Captain Rogers had brought down SHIELD and HYDRA, there had been a dozen raids on known facilities, the one you’d been at at the time being one of them. But bureaucracy would be bureaucracy and they’d had to officially investigate and clear your name before you were truly free to go.

There wasn’t much question about your innocence though, HYDRA hadn’t really bothered to code any of their notes or files on you or your capture.

By the time they’d let you go, you were more than willing to disappear and never hear about HYDRA or SHIELD or anything else to do with it ever again.

You’d managed it for almost seven years, too, until The Winter Soldie– Bucky– had shown up.

You chew on your lip and glare up at your ceiling, and then, with a hefty sigh, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, and the slip of paper tucked beneath it.

---

Once more, you marvel that the man before you is the same as the one who occasionally haunted your dreams.

It was rather incredible what simple expression could do to change a face.

Bucky Barnes sits in the corner of the coffeeshop looking both innocuous and extremely out of place as he fiddles with the gloves he still wears. His distraction must be true, because he only notices you once you’re already halfway to the booth, his face lighting up with recognition. For a moment he looks as though he might stand up to greet you, but you give him no time to do so, quickly sliding yourself in across from him with a thin smile.

“Thank you for meeting me.” You greet, settling yourself into the seat. Bucky waves you off with a shake of his head and seems to adjust himself in his place.

“Of course… is something wrong…?”

It’s strange to you, that you can pick out nervousness in his voice, that he would let himself be so readable, but then you wonder if he even realises. You give him another thin smile and shake your head, but reach for the menu.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Have you ordered?”

After two coffees are delivered to your table, yours a simple latte, and his a caramel mocha with marshmallows that you have to raise your brow at, you settle in once more and focus on why you’d asked him to come.

“You said… when you approached me, you said you were trying to make amends…?” You say, but it comes out more like a question than you intend. Bucky’s brows knit together and he nods.

“To be of service.” He confirms. A part of you bristles at that, a part that thinks he’s done quite enough of serving others for one lifetime, but you brush the thought aside.

“I– I thought of something that maybe you could help me with…” You aren’t expecting his face to light up the way it does, or for him to lean forward almost unwittingly. Momentarily you’re reminded of a very good dog.

“I don’t know much about HYDRA. Or why they did what they did… but I want to know.” You find yourself unable to meet his eye fully as you say this, instead focusing on gently turning your coffee cup around in place on its saucer.

“If you have questions, I’ll answer everything I know.” Bucky tells you a moment later. Something in his voice makes you feel as though he understood, and you wonder if he’d felt the same at some point. You look up at him briefly, grateful for the lack of judgement.

“Do you remember everything that you did? Were you aware of what was happening, or does it just feel sort of dream-like now?” You can’t help but blurt out seconds later, as if the opportunity might be gone in a few few minutes. Bucky blinks, and you can see him restraining the small quirk of his lips as he takes a sip from his cup and places it back down again.

“It’s a little bit of both. I remember everything, but it does feel ‘dream-like’, in retrospect.” He tells you.

“Who was Karpov?” Your next question makes him pause, a brief, almost undetectable flash of disgust and anger crossing his features before he clears his throat and speaks again.

“A Soviet, then Russian intelligence officer… He ran the program for a time…” Bucky frowns as he speaks. You nod, having thought as much.

“He’s dead, now.” He adds after a moment, and you glance up at him questioningly.

“Wasn’t me.”

You proceed to poke and prod at his brain for the next hour, and to his credit, he answers every single one of your questions as best he can. Even subjects that you think he may not normally broach, or things that seem like they might be classified, he tells you honestly.

You’ve both gone through two coffees when you’re finally coming to the end of your questioning, your mind filled up with more information than you could possibly hope to remember at length, but that wasn’t the point.

The odd ease you’d felt the last time, when he’d shadowed you around the grocery store, is gone. You no longer felt as though he posed some kind of threat, which was ridiculous, because the sheer size of him should have instilled that in you. The fact that you had so many traumatic memories tied to him should have sealed the deal, but somehow, it’s like none of that mattered.

That in itself gives off its own unease.

You feel like you’re in a constant limbo.

A comfortable silence had settled between you since your last question (and answer), and you watch Bucky finish off his drink. He’d removed his gloves halfway through your talk, and you’d done your best to steer your eyes away from the shiny black and gold of his new metal limb. Now though, you find your curiosity piqued at the sight of a strange black mark on the underside of his wrist, only visible when his sleeve pulls back just so.

You’d never noticed it before, though why would you have? You were always too focused on his metal limb. It makes you wonder though, which leads you to staring at your own hand, at the discreet lumpy white scar on the back of your palm.

“Do you know why they removed my soulmark?” The question comes quieter than all the others, and you don’t look at him as you ask it, though you see from the corner of your eye that he stops and stares down at your hand too.

He doesn’t reply at first, and you almost think he may not have heard you. When you do look up at him, he seems to jump, blinking rapidly and tearing his gaze from your hand.

“My guess is they didn’t want any loose ends…” He says slowly, but frowns.

“They didn’t remove yours?” You nod to his wrist, which he looks down at, clearly resisting the urge to cover it up again.

“They tried… but the serum… I guess it prevented them from doing any last damage to it.” Bucky tells you, finally meeting your eye again. He looked pained, but you don’t understand why. It wasn’t as though he really did lose his mark. Not like you.

For a brief few moments a burning jealousy overcomes you.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he should keep his and you should lose yours! You would forever be left wondering, no matter how much you healed from your ordeal, you would forever be left with the scars of it, unable to truly move past it.

You stare down at your hand again and feel the anger fuel you.

“They took everything from me. My life, my career… even love,” You wave your hand briefly before scoffing and shoving it into your lap. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. You didn’t want anybody to look at it anymore. Bucky sits quietly, face drawn into an intense scowl.

“I should hate you. I want to, believe me…” You purse your lips and shake your head, blinking away any tears that spring to your eyes. Now was not the time.

“But I can’t, ‘cause even though what they did to you was worse… You’re the only other person who understands. And I don’t have anybody else.” You shake your head again and feel the tension leave your body with your words.

It’s as if saying them out loud releases the anxiety in your bones. You feel lighter all of a sudden, the heaviness that you’d felt since gaining your freedom, the tiredness, it seems to diminish somewhat.

When you can finally bring yourself to meet his eye again, Bucky is watching you with something like sympathy, though, it feels softer than that.

“I was alone, and I thought I was fine with that.” You ball your hands into fists and let out a deep breath.

“And then you showed up.”

Bucky’s lips quirk, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it.

“Does that mean you’re no longer alone, or that you’re no longer fine with it?” He asks, and you can’t help but chortle.

“I don’t know yet.”

---

The burning question Bucky had had since he last saw you, the one he’d not known how to answer, resolves itself in the worst way possible.

He stares at the lumpy white scar on the back of your hand and feels his blood run cold. He’d been scared that you’d realised the truth, or that he’d have to tell you sooner or later, but this is far, far, worse than that.

They’d removed your soulmark.

Bucky knows they’d tried with him, remembers the searing pain, but it had never worked. With you however…

His chest aches just thinking about how you must feel. It was clear by the look on your face how much it affected you, and regardless of how you would have reacted had your soulmark been untouched, to find out he was your soulmate, Bucky wishes this were the one thing he could go back and change.

It leaves a hole deep in his chest.

But something else nags at his mind, long after he’s parted ways with you. You had no idea who you were to one another. It feels like a cruel joke played by the universe. Bucky clearly still made you uneasy, and even if you felt as though you could understand one another, that was very different to wanting to be soulmates.

No.

Bucky decides that you deserved more than a cruel joke. After everything you’d been through, you deserved true happiness.

And Bucky Barnes would rather see his soulmate happy without him, than miserable because of him.

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #story: tttb

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yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

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Sacrificial Bride Part 1//Twisted Wonderland X Reader//

Alright well, that's enough writing for the next few days if you excuse me I'm going to go sulk in my corner. Huge thanks to @softyswork who’s story about reader being sent to Malleus as a bride inspired this series. Also, I REALLY want to make some sort of modern-day Frankenstein it would be an amazing scientific breakthrough! You'll understand what I mean when you get to Idia's part lol.

💚🐉Malleus Draconia🐉💚

It was a common rumor around your village that ever since the death of the sleeping princess your settlement had never been the same. For you, this was nothing more than a fairy tale meant to spark a scrap of hope in the hearts of naive, suffering children who were still too young to fully understand why their fathers never returned from their hunting trips or why there was barely anything to eat for dinner.

Every time you heard this dreaded tail, you couldn't help but scuff. For as long as you've been alive your town had been in utter disarray and chaos. Monsters from the woods -what the town's folk called "fae"- attacked the village daily. Stealing jewels, destroying homes, sometimes even swallowing children or sucking the blood of the dormant. There was also the looming threat of the green flames. Blazing emerald fires who couldn't be subdued by neither water nor dirt. They advanced further into the territory of the village by each full cycle of the moon. Leaving behind in their trail, thick impenetrable thorn bushes that had taken the homes of many and the lives of many more.

Awful, dreaded creatures those fae where...

But alas you did not yet know just how cruel they could be.

On another periodic morning, your younger sister jolted you awake, dragging you to the town center before you got a chance to change out of your nightgown.

In the center of the square was short man..no...not a man you noticed his pointed drawn back ears. "Fae" you gasped under your breath. But unlike the monstrous fairies that ravished your town taking on the appearances of trees and woodland creatures, this one resembled a boy of 15. The young-looking male began to speak, his voice was clear like crystals, and to his tone bats began to flock overhead. "Truly dreadful, these fairy folk are" your sister uttered in terror as she buried her face in your side.

"Heed my words, mortals. The young prince of thorns has decided to take a wife. By the setting of the sun a full day from today, two of his guards will come to collect your offering. If you chose to disregard this Wa-- friendly advice, then what is left of your town will be decimated before the end of summer. Your children eaten, wives imprisoned and husbands killed!" An unsteady hush rippled through the crowd. Some hothead youths began to throw rocks at the stranger only for the bats hovering above to shield him from the stones. Mothers hugged their children close begging for the man to "just leave".

"If" the man's voice rose once more like a cadaver emerging from the grave " my young master is pleased with your sacrifice than we shall reward you! Bring good health and prosperity to your otherwise sick and decaying village." His last words melted into the open air before he vanished in a cloud of squealing bats and ebony smoke.

The town's folk erupted in screeches, cursing at their deities while simultaneously praying to any god that would listen.

"Help us!"

"save us!"

"Don't let them take our daughters!"

The screams escalated to the point where you had to cover your ears with your shaking hands. Your eyes scanning each of the villager's faces, a pathetic lot they were, you thought to yourself. Scared by the words of a young magician. In a flash, your heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you marched to the center square where the boy had been mere moments ago. You stood tall, cupping your hands over your mouth.

"Listen well you disquiet, mindless lot!"

All eyes turned to you. Some holding looks of confusion, whilst others harbored glances of hope.

"This fae is lying! No way will they be satisfied with just one measly girl! No matter who we sacrifice to their so-called master, they'll still come after us! They'll still destroy our village! Let's not be stupid! Let's find a way to barricade the city instead of arguing over who to sacrifice!"

For an endless second all was quite. It was like the world had stopped turning, frozen in its place in the universe trying to decide what to do.

Then it happened,

Chants reverberating through the air

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!"........................

WHAT!

NO!

DID THOSE MORONS NOT LISTEN TO A SINGLE WORD YOU SAID!

The crowd started advancing. Eyes locked on your figure like those of a leopard on its prey. Their mouths were all a gap, chanting the words "sacrifice" over and over again. From behind the mob, your eyes locked with your sister's. You could practically feel the despair rolling off her figure as she covered her eyes and fell to her knees, her whole body rattling with a sort of distant rage...

A full day....it's funny how time passes all so quickly no matter what you do. Day in and day out nothing changes, pain is still pain, laughter is still laughter. Time just keeps slipping from between your fingers like sand. Even in the direst of times, Time doesn't show mercy, never once does it cease. It just ticks and ticks away until the inevitable moment arrives.

Your sister and aunt -the only two relatives that you hadn't lost to the fae- were in charge of preparing you for your so-called "wedding". Since your town was poor and isolated from other civilizations there wasn't much they could do to enhance your beauty. Smashing some berries to add color to your lips -and fervently ravishing the remains- using some coal to add shade behind your eyes, as well as around them and patting the dust of rose petals against your cheek. By the end, you hardly recognized the person staring back from the mirror. Sure the adjustments were minor but this was the most stunning you'd ever looked. "Is it almost time" your voice quivered, failing to hide the tears that began to fall. "Please don't cry sweetheart, we don't have any more coal to fix your eyes with." Your aunt's tone was monotone almost bordering on heartless. You couldn't really blame her, she'd gotten so used to having her loved ones plucked from her. One more would be no different. Sniffing as to keep the tears at bay, you nodded slowly. Your glossy eyes locked with your aunt's you could see the same fear and exhaustion in her fading irises as the night her son was slaughtered in front of her.

"Just a few reminders" your sister's voice was cheery like the chirping of early morning birds, but her face mimicked that of a kicked puppies. "Remember when the prince...fae...when he..you know...Oh, Lord please tell me he won't" She was shivering again. Her face twisted in horror. You knew what she was thinking, she was imagining you laying in the bed of that...that thing. She was imagining him entering you, kissing up and down your neck. Leaving patches of red skin over smooth flesh, bruises wherever his clawed hands touched you. She was imagining what was no doubt going to happen to you tonight...

the mere thought made bile rise to your throat.

"Darling, just keep saying how much you like it. It's all any man wants to hear." again your aunt or rather her lackluster form of speech was the rope binding you to your sanity.

"Do fae even have...those parts like humans do?" Your sister asked, only to be met with a glare from your aunt. "Stop wasting time on pointless questions! Hurry up and see if this dress fits your sister."

Sure enough, as you were escorted to where the thorn bushes met the village, two men, one standing tall and proud, whilst the other looked like he may topple over from fatigue at any moment, were awaiting you.

The green-haired man let out a haughty laugh, his blazing eyes scanning you from head to toe. "She's hardly worthy of the young master!" His dreadful voice was like the booming of thunder clouds. "It doesn't matter, Malleus-sama needs to be wedded off quickly so he can produce an heir. None of us are getting any younger by standing here debating the "worthiness" of yet another measly human" the silver-haired male's voice was the exact opposite of his comrades, his voice was soft and breathy like light drizzle after a storm.

The green-haired man looked ready to argue once more, but before he could open his mouth, his violet-eyed counterpart waved something thin in the air casing a pathway to open between the hedges.

It was dark between the brambles. The air was thick, stuffy, every breath was a struggle. Although it seemed neither of your traveling buddies minded the discomfort. Did fae even need air to survive?

After what could have been no less than a couple of hours, your small group made it to a large clearing where only a few rays of the sun leaked through the thick smoky clouds. Miss matched flowers in shades of grey littered the rocky barren ground. Maybe at some point, this place had been beautiful, stunning even...but whenever that time had been it was long gone now.

As you ventured farther into this monochrome land of loss and sorrow, the three of you approached a castle. It towered over everything else, grim in all its glory. "Young master Malleus is awaiting you inside..." The green-haired male's voice trailed off as his speech was interrupted by the deafening creaking of the doors parting open. Without another word the two men dragged you inside, pushing you through spiral staircases and long bleak passageways. Until you arrived at a lavish-looking room, a large throne sitting smugly in the front of the room. It's black, spiked appearance was enough to make you gasp in horror, you didn't desire to meet the monster that perched atop that throne. "Don't be so afraid." the silver-haired man whispers, his head is almost resting on your shoulder. "Malleus-sama is kind and fair. He is sure to love you better than any human ever could." you catch a hint of nostalgic sadness in the last part, like a long lost part of the lavender eyed boy's past caught in his throat like a glass shard.

Trumpets roared through the room blaring as two men, one short and fickle whilst the other tall and brooding walked in. "Malleus~" The short one sang as they both stopped in front of you "Say hello to your lovely new wife." the tall man's emerald eyes landed on you. His lips parted in a threatening smile...or maybe it was a smirk? He didn't seem to be too good at displaying emotions. Slowly he descended onto one knee, slipping your hand into his and kissing the top lightly.

"Hello, my darling little wife."

🧡🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁🧡

The After Glow Savanna was an absolute hell to be born in if your family did not belong to some royal inner court class. The endless days spent scavenging for scraps of food, walking miles for a simple glass of water, had become a sort of broken, habit beaten into the residents of the smaller less fortunate districts.

Eventually, you too would follow in your parent's footsteps, working odd jobs around the neighborhood, getting married to some guy, having kids, and giving them the same dreary life your parents had given you. It was simple -miserable- but simple never the less. In an odd way, you found a sort of comfort in how everything was set in stone. How you'd suffer through a few years then die of starvation or some disease in your husband's arms.

But little did you know that the only comfort you had in your horrible life was also going to be swiped from you.

When Ruggie, a dear childhood friend of yours returned from his prestigious school for the winter holidays you were overjoyed! A week with your best friend was the greatest gift you could ask for! But that excitement soon dulled when he announced to the neighborhood what the royal family had planned for the underdeveloped parts of the country.

"They want to demolish the homes and build parks and shopping strips instead"

The people of your tiny community gasped, shock and hopelessness mixing over their dirty, worn out faces. Some older siblings shielded the ears of their younger kin, some mothers hugged their children closer to their chests. "They can't do that to us!" Your voice was like a beacon through the thick fog of confusion. "We can't let them!" You turned to Ruggie who was seated next to you. His blue-grey eyes held a foreign sadness that you had never seen before. He was hiding something...something so grim that he was forced to shove it into the depths of his soul, locking it up and throwing away the key.

"There is a way..."

For such a hopeful phrase, Ruggie's tone harbored no happiness. You could practically see the tears that were clouding his beautiful eyes. "Tell us" someone from the crowd demanded, others soon joined in with their own chants. For a long moment, Ruggie said nothing, the shouts of despair falling on deaf ears.

"If.." his voice trailed off, as his gaze grew distant.

"If someone from the neighborhood were to marry the second prince..." Gasps of fear filled the air. Even the mere mention of the second prince's name was enough to send chills down people's spins.

"Then they could, as the newly appointed princess, convince the royal family and counsel to scrap this monstrous plan." No one uttered another word. No one was brave enough to face the man who could destroy anything with a simple touch.

But the sake of these people, people who had nothing but their families and a muddy roof over their head was on the line.

Do something, a tiny voice in your head screamed, save them, it begged. You shifted your head so to get a glimpse of Ruggie's face. "I-" you began but were cut off before you could even finish.

"I know you would say that."

His voice broke over every syllable. He knew you would give up your depressing nostalgia for the sake of others. Life in the castle would be hell, being married to that monster would be something worst than the dwellings of the devil.

It was a speedy arrangement, so fast that your head didn't have time to process anything. In the end, it almost seemed like the royal family was desperate to find a spouse for their youngest son.

Just marry him! Was what all the absentee looks told you.

Early that morning, Ruggie had dragged you to the castle, all tears, and grumbles. The palace guards let him in with no restrain, it almost felt like he'd been here before. Your childhood friend led you to a room in the further corner of a grand hall. He told you to stay outside as he went in to chat with the prince. Moments later the newly appointed king and queen came to usher you into a privet room and discuss the marriage. Not an hour later your fate had been sealed, you'd be married off to prince Leona tomorrow at sunrise. For "historical purposes" your neighborhood would be preserved and even taken care of. 'Historical purposes' you thought 'more the like a bribe to get you to marry this beast.

that night you were dragged this way and that by the queen herself. Taken for fitting after fitting. Trying on hundreds of wedding dresses who's prices could feed every mouth in your neighborhood for months! "Leona isn't very classy" the queen sighed in disappear. "He would probably prefer you to be in something laxer, shorter if you will" the tailors ran around trying to find something that would fit her vague description, as you stood facing her royal highness.

"What's he like?" you asked soullessly

"Spoiled, although not as heartless as the rumors make him out to be" She didn't seem to like giving straight answers

"will he harm me? It was an honest question, although the lack of thinking it took before the queen replied made your heart skipped a beat.

"Quite possibly, he is rather...aggressive at times. Just don't let his degrading comments get to you. He's not used to being around people"

The more she described the second-born prince the more it seemed she was actually speaking of some feral dog that had raised in isolation.

Oh, how doomed you were.

The wedding was even faster than the preparation. Ruggie walked you down an aisle of flowers, walking over the petals, killing them once and for all, ending their pointless existence. You stood by your self at the altar awaiting your husband to be. It took a rather long time before the doors were flung open and the king waltzed in carrying his struggling brother under his arm. "No need to worry, Leona was taking one of his catnaps again and forgot about today's events" the king announced, in what could only be described as a mock lively tone.

How on earth does someone forget their wedding! This prince really wasn't a typical human...heck you where beginning to think that the feral dog would have made a better groom.

snap, snap

A few magazine pictures here, a couple of family photos there...

Everything was so bright and loud...

right before you and the second prince were thrown into the darkness of his room. In the obscurity, you could ONLY make out the glowing of his emerald eyes.

You could feel him shifting closer, all the while you took shaking steps backwards. " I thought wives were supposed to leap into the arms of their husbands? Tell me little herbivore do I frighten you?"

Your voice refused to leave your throat, too afraid to come into contact with the prince.

"What's the matter? Did they not teach you to speak in on the streets you grew up on. Poor thing~"

Leona pounced across the room, tackling you to the ground. His sheer weight pinning you to the carpeted floor. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the silence.

How careless these royal were was the only intelligible thought that came to your frenzied brain.

Goosebumps littered your skin as Leona's claws cut into your flesh. His lips kissed over each wound as he made his way up to your cherry painted lips.

"You look so cute, you know, like a little mouse about to get devoured by a starving lion."

💙💀Idia Shroud💀💙

The rhythm of his heartbeat was slowing down, it felt like the patter of ants atop one's flesh. He was dying...this was an irreversible fact. The love of your life was dying and there was nothing you could do but sit idly by and watch the life fade from his pale bruised face. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in robotic-like strokes. Hours had passed, you'd shed all the tears that you had. He was gone...that was all there was to it.

For a hopeless second, you flicked your eyes to the open window on the opposite side of the room, There was never any sun on the island of lamination but regardless today seemed brighter than any other day. "How cruel" you muttered in a deadpan voice. Outside something...or better yet...someone was running through the fields, chasing what looked like a butterfly. The young child had blazing blue hair a symbol of the Shroud family...

THE SHROUD FAMILY

Your breath hitch in your lungs, your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. They could help you though hopefully. There family where distant relatives of the god of the underworld and a few years back -to your regulation- the hair of the family had been able to semi revive his younger brother. If he was able to bring back a child from the dead than surly they would have no problem returning your lost lover to you.

Your eyes waltz over his dormant face one last time before you got up and ran for the door.

"This is all for you my love, all of this is for you"

The Shroud family mansion was located at the top of one of the many hills that plagued the island. It was a dark grisly building that resembled the castles from old tales, where monsters laid dormant. Rumors spiraled around the rural civilization, some saying that the family was cursed by the lord of the dead, whilst others claimed that the shroud family were the long lost descendants of the lord of the dead and the maiden of spring. The curse had been placed on the family by the temperamental mother of the maiden of spring, anathematizing the family to be plagued with death and disappear for the rest of eternity.

Regardless of what their misfortune was, they may very well be the last people on earth who could help you. Surely if the family had brought back their youngest than they could bring back your lover!

You knuckles tapped furiously at the old metal doors of the frightful residence. The rhythm was unkept, unsteady, it's mere sound radiated urgency.

"PLEASE HELP ME"

Your throat burned as you screamed out those three lousy words.

After what felt like forever, the doors cracked open, revealing a tall man obscured by the shadows. Any light that touched the interior of the house seemed to die acidity, making peering inside nearly impossible.

"What business do you have?" The man's voice was croaky as if his vocal cords hadn't been used in years. For a split second, you closed your eyes, trying to organize the thoughts in your head. "My...my...h-hus...lover, my lover is d-dead...o-or rather he is dying....probably fully gone by now..." despite the mess of stuttered letters and mixed-up words, the man seemed to understand your situation. With a long sigh, he pulled you into the somber house.

Fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist he pulled you around, guiding you through the darkness until you reached a large room lit only by the mysterious blue flames of the fireplace. Sitting by the warmth was a...well it was hard to tell, her face -despite it displaying every bone of her visage coupled with dark sunken eyes- resembled that of a woman no older than thirty, whilst her body resembled a decaying skeleton. What was she? Was she the lady of the residence or yet another monster this bizarre family had created.

"My, love" the man began to speak, his voice was somehow cleared like it had been given some sort of jolt. "This young lady needs Idia's help, she wants to bring back her lover from the dead."

The woman said nothing, her eyes staring ahead, burning a hole in the wall right by your head. "What will she give him in return" despite her "deteriorating" appearance her voice was like soft silk on one's skin, melodious and fair.

"Why herself!" This time the man's voice boomed across the house, echoing through the hallways and falling on you like a cave in.

"M-myself! What the hell do you mean!"

"It sounds fair" the women agreed "my darling sweet son saves your lover and instead you agree to marry him! Oh how wonderful, just like in the tales about grandfather Hades!"

She seemed too thrilled about this, her snow-white eyes gleaming with a sort of delusional passion.

"Idia! Idia honey! Come down your father has a surprise for you!"

The hollow sound of footsteps soon filled the quiet air. Followed by another soft blue glow.

Was there no normal fire in this house?

But it wasn't fire, not exactly. When your eyes fell on the heir of the Shroud family, you suddenly felt a nervous wave crash over you. There was something -even more- unsettling about him, he looked nothing like his charming little brother. For one his hair wasn't...well hair! Sure you'd expect a small batch of blazes heading upwards but this was something else entirely! It resembled a large bonfire that floated towards the ground, rouge sparks falling in every which direction, sizzling and then dying abandoned on the floor. And his eyes, Miosis like pupils floating around in a pool of lemon yellow.

But all the physical appearances aside, the most unsettling thing about him was the gloomy aura that leaked off him, suffocating anyone in his presence. Nervously you took a step back only to be yanked forward again by the taller man.

"Idia baby!" His mother ran over to him, cradling his hands in hers "This cute young lady has agreed to marry you if you can save her lover, just like in that old tale about your great grandfather! Oh, my this is all so romantic!"

It seemed like no one here understood that you were in love WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Or maybe they did and chose to disregard it. Instead, using the bits they retained as kindling to feed their raw excitement. You shifted your gaze back to Idia's face. To your utter terror, he was...smiling? Could that...look...even be called a smile? It seemed more like the way a shark would bare its teeth at a defenseless seal! Oh, gods please don't let this...thing...be your future husband!

"It should be easy enough," His golden gaze landed on you "W-when did...did he die?" it took a few moments before you register that he was talking to you or technically asking you something. "A...A few..." your voice cracked, tears streaming down your eyes.

"So recently...okay that shouldn't be a p-problem." He turned on his heels and walked back into the seclusion of the halls "I'll grab some things and meet you by the front door"

A few things ended up being a pile of wires and bolts. Something that looked like a light blue ball of energy and so many tools whose names seemed to go over your head.

Idia was kneeling by your lover's bed, pulling apart the skin and fusing metal in its place. Your darling's chest was cracked open, his ribs poking out towards the sky as if praying for life from the lord of the sky. Every once in awhile Idia would pull out a long tool with smoke floating from the top. He'd lay it on an organ watching as the tissue fiber sizzled away under the heat. He would then tie wires and small circular batteries inside.

"His heart stopped working, I'm guessing from some sort of shock"

You just hummed in response, too caught up in how the man you loved was beginning to look like a modern-day Frankenstein rather than a human being.

The sun had long since faded when Idia finally got up from his spot. His bones cracked and screeched at the sudden change, his muscles giving out halfway leaving him to rely on the wall for support to stand. Your lover's chest had been sewn back and covered with a silver piece of metal. His neck was wrapped in the same sort of alloy. His left arm had been cut open so Idia could shove the energy ball inside than cover it, leaving a small enough gap for wires that stretched from his chest to weld into the ball.

"He just needs a boost" Idia murmured that shark-like grin overtaking his pale face once more. From the side table, he plucked up to jumper cables and clipped them on either side of his neck. Jolts and crackles filled the room and sparks flew in every direction, the once-dead body shuffled around, arms and legs moving at random. You shrieked and duck behind Idia.

Only then did he pry the clips from his neck.

Nothing

for too long nothing happened... then there was a slight wiggle in one finger, then another. His eyes slowly began to prey open, looking over his surroundings. The moment his confused gaze feel onto you. Idia turned you around to face him, clumsily smashing his blue chapped lips onto yours.

From the corner of his eyes, Idia watched as the other man began to understand what was happening...even if he was just resurrected there was still agony at the sight of his lover kissing another...

Good! That should show him who you belonged to now!

2K notes · View notes

levbug · 4 years ago

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𝟕 𝐏.𝐌. ー 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐬.

#pairing ー very sleepy! kita shinsuke x gn! reader

#warnings ー none but kitas really whipped its kinda embarrassing + he doesnt shower before laying down despite being stinky u gross little boy

#genre ー best friends to lovers-ish(?), fluff, angst

#wc ー 1.2k

for @kyotarou's 24h collab!! p.s thank u vi @hikariakaashi for helping me out with this teehee <3

'i'm beat,' kita thinks upon carelessly tossing his dirty old gym bag on the ground. his movements are heavy and sluggish, a fatigued expression present on his handsome features. the contents of his bag spill out, but kita can't find it in himself to bend down and fix it.

the poor boy looks less than pitiful at this moment. having forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning, his clothes stick to his body like a second skin. he peels off the damp clothing with a grimace, wincing when the discarded fabric lands on his bedroom floor with a resounding 'plop!'

kita is all but ready to settle into bed and get some well-deserved rest, but just as he pulls on his favorite pair of pajamas and tucks himself in, his phone rings.

"hello?" he answers wearily, not even bothering to check who had decided to call him. the only thing on his mind is the sweet temptation that is sleep.

"hi, kita!"your chipper voice replies. the boy winces at how enthusiastic and happy you sound, despite it being 7 p.m on a wednesday night. he wonders how you can keep your energy levels so high; he'd have to take a few notes.

"oh, hi (name)," it wasn't unusual for you to call kita (he practically expected you to), although it was quite unconventional; you two lived just across the street from each other.

he still didn't quite understand why you insisted on calling him every night just before dinner, but over the years he's learned that it's better to leave some things unquestioned. that, and because he liked it when you took the time out of your day to speak to him.

"how was your day today?" he asks, a hint of interest lacing his usually monotone voice.

"oh! well, today was actually pretty fun! me and atsumu actually ended up in detention today because..." you begin. kita listens as you tell him about the happenings of your day, from the positives to your daily frustrations.

although he wouldn't admit it, he treasures these moments most. the moments where you speak about anything and everything and he just listens, humming or letting out a small "really, they said that?" to show that he was somewhat invested.

there have been times when you'd pout at kita and accuse him of never listening to what you say, claiming that you'd often hear him snoring while you ranted. kita would just chuckle and shake his head, not denying but not confirming your suspicions either.

in his heart, no matter how many times he may have accidentally fallen asleep to your voice, he knows that he'd never intentionally tune you out. you're too special to him for that.

you were his first long-term friend. hell, why should he put it lightly? you were his first ever friend.

when the other kids refused to play with him, calling him sickly and weak and slow and all the things that damaged his self-confidence, you stuck by his side. you took his hand with the friendliest smile he had ever seen and you made him feel like he belonged. you didn't tip-toe around topics, you didn't hesitate to call people out on their bullshit. you were confident and strong, and kita liked that about you.

and while he wouldn't necessarily say he was in love, he felt strongly about you. the way your easy-going smile would morph into a look of defiance and mischief once provoked was enough for his heart to start beating erratically in his chest. how you'd hold his hand absentmindedly when you two would be caught in a crowd, how your eyes shone like the stars when you'd laugh at a stupid joke one of the twins would make, the furrow of your brows when you were deep in thought, the childish lilt in your voice when you'd tease poor aran on the rare occasion that he was flustered. kita felt strongly about it all.

"kita? are you still there? you've gone awfully quiet," you trail off from your story about how suna had gotten one of osamu and atsumu's arguments on tape.

"what? oh yeah, just thinking about some things," his voice tapers off at the end of his sentence. he can hear a faint hum of concern from your end, as well as the sound of rustling sheets.

"what kind of things?" you ask softly.

kita hums, repositioning himself and resting his chin on his arm. "nice things,"

"you're a shit conversationalist, you know that?" an exasperated sigh crackles through the crappy speakers of kita's phone.

he chuckles, a pleasant, low sound that comes deep from his chest. "so i've been told," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, silence fills the air. the tired boy closes his eyes and listens to the soft hum of your air conditioning.

"your grandma told me about how you forgot your umbrella this morning," kita can envision the small pout on your lips, the same one you always wear when you scold him.

"is that so?" he doesn't bother suppressing a smile.

"yeah, she did," you sigh. kita hears more rustling, this time accompanied by a soft grunt. "you should stop overworking yourself. i don't know why you feel the need to keep tiring yourself out to the point where you can barely remember to eat breakfast. don't do that to yourself!"

"i know, i'm sorry," he apologizes. he's noticed you have a wonderful knack for encouraging and reassuring people. he loves that about you.

"yeah, you better be..." and once more, it's silent between you two. kita doesn't really mind; it's the kind of silence like in those cheesy romance books, the comfortable one where neither of you have to worry about filling the gap. it's nice, he thinks.

just as kita begins to nod off to sleep, he hears the muffled call of your name, presumably from your mother.

"oh, i have to go now," kita shakes the temptation of sleep away from his mind and feels the familiar dread that always came when you'd tell him you needed to go. "i'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah? and don't forget to eat dinner and shower tonight! your grandma's really worried about you!"

a plethora of reassurances leave kita's mouth as you list the things he needs to do. the boy is hardly able to quell the urge to roll his eyes. "i know, i know! don't worry so much about me, i can take care of myself!"

an indignant huff sounds from your end of the line, but softens into a relenting sigh. "i know kita, but you can't blame me! you're my best friend, i have a right to worry about you!"

he feels a strange stirring in his heart at your words, but he chooses to ignore it. "i know. i'll try my best to take better care of myself, so don't worry so much about me, okay?"

the line goes quiet for a second. "okay,"

"okay," he closes his eyes once more, chewing on the soft flesh of his lower lip. "and (name)?"

"yeah, kita?"

kita hesitates for a second too long, for as soon as the words "i think i'm in love with you," leave his lips,

the call had already ended.

147 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground.

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up. “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

213 notes · View notes

ellitx · 4 years ago

Text

Twig | Albedo x Reader

the final act of TWMA part 1 part 2

can be stand-alone

disclaimer: this is written before v1.2 so my interpretation of albedo’s story and lore is not accurate. these are just my assumptions and understanding that i based on each characters’ voicelines about him

word count: 3.4k

Something felt odd. What in the world happened…?

The male awoke from an unfamiliar scent that drifted through his nose. Likewise, he has woken up from a restless sleep due to the rough waves, to glimpse at the glowing and radiant sun peaking above the horizon out of the window. It extended its vivid light across the deep blue sky.

Its dazzling and inviting rays flowed through the window providing warmth to his body. Slowly the fatigue of the endless dreams was seeped out of him as the warm light trickled into replacing his unrest— it eased his body.

His mind meandered aimlessly into nothingness, continuously staring at the beige wall painted around the room.

He is aware when he is forgetting when there is something close yet hidden, yet he cannot at that moment fathom what it could be. It’s as if he was following a bread crumb trail and it ends, so he stopped.

It gives him ideas as to what is missing from his brain because if one always got stopped when traveling, you would know that there are blocks in your way preventing you from continuing any further— even if he has no clue to as what they are.

A peal of melodic laughter that is mirthful and playful then reached his ears, stopping him from his dreaming. Albedo turned his head to the source of the voice and saw a girl— that was around his age— chuckling as she held a tray in her hands.

“You’re finally awake.” She brought down the platter on the table next to him and poured a cup of tea. His visage frowned and tightly gripped the blanket that was tucked to him.

Why did he felt that she was mocking him? He doesn’t know why but for some reason it did irk him. He forgot about his memories. He doesn’t have the slightest clue as to where he was and why he was here.

“Here.” She gave him the cup and patiently waited for him to take it. So this is where the foreign scent was coming from. He thought to himself.

The smell was fragrant but had a tinge of spiciness in it. It made his nose crinkled but accepted it nonetheless— quite hesitant, as the girl observed. Taking a small sip of the tea, it surprised him that it tasted sweet. It was quite unexpected because of the tangy fragrance it gave off.

“You look so lost.”

The laugh came from her like a newly sprung leak— sheepish at first, stopping and starting. She wasn’t done yet though, he could tell from the way she turned her head and half-bit her lip. From deep inside her chest came a great shaking motion and her muscle face grew tight.

His eyebrows arched as he put down the cup on the tray, waiting. In moments this female’s laugh was more like a burst water main arching into the brilliant summer sky, soaking everyone around her with unrestrained gales that deliberated her to nonstop giggles and picked face picture of glee.

Albedo wanted to stay straight-faced and walk out the room— she was, after all, laughing “at him”, not “with him”. But before he could stop himself, his poker mouth twitched upwards, and was smiling despite himself.

Nevertheless, he didn’t hate it.

—

On the next day, she was already bombarding him with questions.

“Hey, hey, what was that thing you just did? That was my sister’s research she’s been working hard for and you’ve already solved it?!” [Eye color] optics sparkled in awe and admiration as [Name] gazed at him from her side.

He peered into her eyes and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, continuing to read the texts of the book she gave him. “It was a minor mistake she had done. I’ve read some pieces of information about that topic and was not expecting I would stumble upon it.”

She puckered her lips and pouted as she snatched the codex from his hands. His answer was so vague! It didn’t really satisfy her curiosity about this outlander. “Hey!”

The female raised her arms, preventing him from reaching it. “I won’t give this back to you until you tell me the whole story!” Albedo’s brows folded in confusion and struggled to grab it. “That is the whole story.”

Her cheeks puffed and watched him yanked the book from her. It was disappointing, to say the least how he easily took it.

Sighing countless times already made him question himself why this girl still insists on staying by his side. It’s not like he didn’t like it nor does he like it, it just raised him so many questions about what happened yesterday.

Why would the Knights took him in considering how [Name] just effortlessly helped him out of nowhere. Not to mention how he barely knows a single thing about Mondstadt. It made him indignant how he can’t remember even the slightest thing.

He doesn’t blame anyone for it. It’s no one’s fault that he lost his memories.

Just thinking about this bizarre occurrence that just magically appeared out of nowhere made his head ached. Though the tug on his arm caught his attention and looked at the young teen in puzzlement as they started to march off to archon knows where.

“Maybe I should tell Grandmaster Varka about this…” She softly muttered to herself. He caught her words perfectly and so further press a question to pique his interest. “Tell about what?”

Both of them slowed down and paused in their tracks, stopping midway near the fountain area. [Name] chuckled and winked at him playfully.

“You’ll see.”

Albedo hummed and looked fixedly on the back of her head as they continued to walk silently.

There was a delicious moment where his face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn’t turn fast enough to take in the information from his wide eyes. It made [Name] stifle a laugh at the expression he was currently showing to all the members of Ordo Favonius.

Every muscle of the male’s body just froze before he looked away from them to the girl who stood beside him. A grin crept up onto her face, it soon stretched out from one side to the other showing every single tooth.

Surprise isn’t an emotion he’d ever taken well. He could tell himself he was at loss for words. He guessed he found himself dumb, in a sense that made his lexeme stopped flowing. Stopped because she has shown him a new direction he never anticipated for a moment.

Every member knows she had saved him— saved him from what though? That he did not know, he never asked her about it nor did she even tell him what happened to him. He just let it be.

Receiving the news that he’ll be a member of the Knights, to have the position as the Chief Alchemist, really made him bewildered and surprised.

“Isn’t this happening too fast?” He questioned whilst quirking a brow.

“Hm? What do you mean?” [Name] tipped her head as her eyes stared at his own turquoise ones.

“Why is everyone easily agreeing to it? I’ve only been here for a day and just assisted your sister in translating. I appreciate the thought that the Grandmaster here is giving me the position of Chief Alchemist but I can't help but question why.”

She glanced at him, her mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. Her eyes are fixed as if she’s looking at something a yard behind his head. He called her name to garner her attention.

She blinks, refocused. “Albedo, it’s actually been five days. Lisa talked to everyone about how genius you are.”

Now it was his turn to owlishly blink. Five days? Does time really move that fast?

Well, he did hear the saying that time flies fast when you’re having fun. He never noticed about it and now that the idea battered him, it continued to linger inside his head.

What happened yesterday, what happened today, everything still feels the same. Even if the fragment of memories within him seemed to etiolate. His hands clawed his chest, feeling the unusual warmth from it and throughout his body.

Everything has been important to him and will be important to him.

He knows that these distant memories seem so far and vague but are significant to him.

He doesn’t understand the reason why, but he shouldn’t forget.

At least that’s how he thinks things should be.

—

The sound of the ticking grandfather clock echoed throughout the silent room. It sounded so monotonous and lifeless inside. The tall and antiquated object stood there as the gateway for old-man time, the golden pendulum making its steady way back and forth.

The silence was so eerie, though none minded at all as two teenagers were fast asleep, still remaining inside their dreams.

An aroma Albedo has gotten used to woke him up. It’s the smell of the herbs and various flowers that have mixed together giving off a sweet and minty scent. He opened his eyes and stayed like that for a few minutes.

The alchemist tiredly glanced down to see the papers are now messed and scattered all over the table. Heaving a sigh as he raked his fingers through his hair, his aqua optics went on to the female’s sleeping body that rested on his lab’s bed.

She still hasn't woken up.

He stood up from his seat and quietly approached her unconscious form to check on her condition. [Name]’s features were much softer in sleep, the lines that usually creased her brow replaced by youthful appearance giving off a child-like look.

She looked peaceful, he thought to himself.

He pulled up the blanket over her shoulders and turned around to continue making remedies for her once she’s awake.

The Knights of Favonius were worried sick about her, especially her sister, Lisa. They were hoping and praying to the Seven she’ll wake up from her coma. They all miss her presence, days of not seeing her wandering around also worried the townsfolk of Mond.

She has been cooped up inside his room while Sucrose and Noelle assisted him in taking care of her.

The morning dusk is about to arrive and Albedo has to continue doing his research nonstop. He does so wished to see her [eye color] orbs finally open after the incident. It hurt him to know [Name] has been like this that he did not even realize until the Acting Grandmaster and her sister told him about it.

He stared at the small plant that was placed on the windowsill. Its leaves started to fall off from its branches as it slowly started to wilt in the darkness. He grabbed the small twig and observed the faintest of light it gives off.

Would it hurt to say that it reminded him of her?

[Name] is someone that has to be taken care of carefully. After all, when she saw what he had written about her condition, she didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to say that her “friend” was just a fragment of her imagination without affecting her mental state.

He hovered his hand over the small branch, watching it bloom before his eyes with ease. He placed it back in the vase and returned to the table. If only he could easily return her back just like how he did with the plant.

Return her from his arms again instead of that bard.

He let out a bitter laugh at that thought. This was his fault. Why would she come back running to him if he did not even once give her his time? When they’ve finally met again for so long, she was avoiding his eyes.

It hurt him, he won’t lie about that. Her welcome to him was just a simple nod and that’s it. No hugs, no welcomes, not even a small smile was given to him.

If he did stop his research and at least spend time with her, will everything change?

Albedo shook his head as the answer to himself. Even if it is, why would he still continue hoping and thinking about these things? Sometimes his formulation of the rationale of real-life situations irked him.

This isn’t alchemy, genius.

His self-feud stopped when he saw her fingers moved the slightest from his peripheral vision. His heart fluttered and gave him a bit of hope if the archons had finally heard their wishes.

When her eyelids flickered open, the sight was not what he was expecting.

A lone tear trickled down her cheek. Her lips quivered and continued to look at the distance. Out of complete silence, her soft cries arose. He’d never seen [Name] sat like that, so deflated. Her loose shoulders shook, her hands hanging low, making no attempt to conceal or even wipe her own tears.

All of these emotions coming to him at once hurt him.

His head throbbed and let the feeling of guilt crush him.

—

The giggle rolled around the room like a child’s spinning top, vibrant and heartwarming as it moved around the people in its chaotic ways. It came in its fits and bursts— loud to soft to nothing at all and back to loud again.

It was as if there was an invisible feather at [Name]’s nape brushing softly; she squirmed and raised her shoulders to block Barbara from tickling her neck. The laughter built up inside her like so much water behind a dam, making her shoulders and her belly hurt.

She cried when Klee jumped onto her body and joined in with the deaconess. Their carefree and playful tittering reached Albedo’s ears when he entered the room. Their eyes darted towards him as their laughs died down.

The Spark Knight ran towards him and hugged his legs, overjoyed in seeing the alchemist here. He knelt down to her height and patted her head as a smile slowly crept up to his face.

[Name]’s laugh caught his attention again, though he did not dare to look at the two females. As much as he tried to focus on listening to Klee’s words, he cannot help but listen to the former’s gentle hilarity.

For some reason, it made his chest wrenched every time he listens to it. He wondered why that is when it’s something he remembers all the time.

He recalled the day he got his Vision. It appeared out of thin air on his desk and she was the first one to point it out. It surprised [Name] why he had gotten Geo instead of Dendro. She watched him fiddle the trinket in his hands as he continued to analyze it.

He didn’t really mind whichever Vision he got. As long as he can continue doing his research then it’s fine with him.

He didn’t know why he found himself laughing so hard, but all of a sudden, he couldn’t stop. His breath came in quick gasps between his unstoppable tittering. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over.

She was confused about why he was laughing all of a sudden worrying her. He waved his hand dismissively and pointed out the expression that was currently painted on her face. Her face reddened and slapped his back jokingly.

After their short playful bickering, the Chief Alchemist plucked a small branch from a plant and hand it over to her.

“Visions are gifts given to us by the Gods. Think of it like this sprig, there are many possibilities which among the elements they’ll receive yet no one knows what they’ll end up with until they’ve received it.”

She furrowed her brows as her brain cogs continue to process what he meant. It finally dawned on her what he meant and hummed. “But not everyone can receive Visions, though.” She remarked.

“Exactly. They may not bear fruits or maybe yet, one day it’ll come to them.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what is it?”

[Name] sighed and rested her chin on her palm. “Not everyone is blessed by the Seven.” The male was still and quiet.

“Well, I’m no god. I may not know how they give out Visions but it sure is something remarkable, isn’t it?” Her eyes lightened up and nodded vigorously.

“Right?! Wouldn’t it be better if they just give it to everyone?” Albedo laughed and admired her own exclamation.

“Perhaps.”

It surprised the female teen that he just suddenly grabbed her hand unnoticed. He observed how small her hands are compared to his. He placed the twig on her palm and with a simple motion of his wrist, the branches started to grow as small leaves then sprouted from it.

It occurred to her just how amazing Albedo is. She raised the small branch in the air and examine the faintest glow of the leaves it emitted. She gasped and stared with wide eyes as isotoma flowers started to bloom from the ends.

“W-was that suppose to happen?” She turned her head to him and pushed her arms forward to show the herb to him.

He bobbed his head and took out a pot filled with soil. He used his elemental skill on it and a cecilia shaped flower appeared. Instead of the usual vibrant white, it almost looked too rigid and rocky.

[Name] poked it and it really was sturdy. He asked her if she can use her own elemental skill, to which she responded with a yes. She twirled her hand and he can feel the air starting to get cold.

Small snowflakes started to form and dropped down on the pot. Once the snow made contact with the rocky flower, it formed into a crystal and bloomed into a refreshing and spirited cecilia.

It felt like a real flower instead of the stony one they just saw. The alchemist plucked it and carefully tucked it to her ear, adoring how well it donned her appearance and perfectly captured her delicacy.

Cecilias really does suit her.

That day, the day he only showed it to her. It’s the memoir he cherished the most. It’s the only special memory he couldn’t forget.

He understood why. He keeps thinking of her.

All these mnemonics with [Name] are important to him and are everything to him.

And on that day, he believed she wouldn’t leave.

—

A smell of a nostalgic sweet breeze wafted in him. The winds kissed his skin making him wish to go back to sleep, yet the sound of familiar laughter was what made him want to open his eyes.

He recognized those sweet mirths. It’s so close to him that he can feel the figure’s shakiness. The tree’s shadow helped him not to be blinded by the rays of the sun and the gales that caressed his skin were so calming, but his focus was purely glued to a smile.

Her smile.

He still waited for the day when he can show the small beauties of life to someone, but there are no fools like him in this vast world. Perhaps they exist, yet they must be distant, enjoying the same sky with other eyes yet the same thought.

The whistling of the birds that awaken their sleep in the trees, letting his perception be painted with white, yellow, and blue. It battered him that he was currently laying on her lap.

So shall it stay put, a smile eternally stained upon her lips. Her joy, her love, her laughter, her cheer. All will reach the ears of those who have forgotten the warmth of such harmonies.

Emotions came to his mind like the waves meeting the land. They come to him, soaking his entire being and helped him to understand his entire self better. He felt wet hot tears filled up his eyes.

But this was no tears of grief.

It was tears of joy that he has finally heard her laugh once again. Much closer than before. The distance with them has now shortened. Is this the archons saying they’ll give him another chance?

If it is, he’s very thankful to the Celestia and to the Seven. He was so happy that all he can do is cry and let the tears continuously fall down his cheeks. The tears stained his face but he didn’t care if it did.

Albedo was just so ecstatic he finally got to reunite with her. He can finally hold her in his arms and apologize for the mistake he has done to her. He missed her so much that he can’t bear the pain anymore of how distant they are.

And so he promised himself he won’t ever forget her.

this oneshot is based on this song

348 notes · View notes

luvholicz · 3 years ago

Text

pairing. wayv’s dong sicheng x gn! reader

genre + wc. timestamp, best friends to lovers(ish), fluff, angst at the end + 1.2k

warnings. none, however sicheng is Really whipped its kinda gross blech

notes. reposted from my old blog!! this is one of my fave pieces to date so i hope u enjoy ^.^

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

'i'm beat,' sicheng thinks upon carelessly tossing his dirty old gym bag on the ground. his movements are heavy and sluggish, a fatigued expression present on his handsome features. the contents of his bag spill out, but sicheng can't find it in himself to bend down and fix it.

the poor boy looks less than pitiful in this moment. having forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning, his clothes stick to his body like a second skin. he peels off the damp clothing with a grimace, wincing when the discarded fabric lands on his bedroom floor with a resounding 'plop!'

sicheng is all but ready to settle in bed and get some well-deserved rest, but just as he pulls on his favorite pair of pajamas and tucks himself in, his phone rings.

"hello?" he answers wearily, not even bothering to check who had decided to call him. the only thing on his mind is the sweet temptation that is sleep.

"hi, sicheng!"your chipper voice replies. the boy winces at how enthusiastic and happy you sound, despite it being 7 p.m on a wednesday night. he wonders how you can keep your energy levels so high; he'd have to take a few notes.

"oh, hi (name)," it wasn't unusual for you to call sicheng (he practically expected you to), although it was quite unconventional; you two lived just across the street from each other.

"how was your day today?" he asks, a hint of interest lacing his usually monotone voice.

"oh! well, today was actually pretty fun! me and donghyuck actually ended up in detention today because..." you begin. sicheng listens as you tell him about the happenings of your day, from the positives to your daily frustrations.

there have been times when you'd pout at sicheng and accuse him of never listening to what you say, claiming that you'd often hear him snoring while you ranted. sicheng would just chuckle and shake his head, not denying but not confirming your suspicions either.

in his heart, no matter how many times he may have accidentally fallen asleep to your voice, he knows that he'd never intentionally tune you out. you're too special to him for that.

you were his first long-term friend, hell, why should he put it lightly? you were his first ever friend.

and while he wouldn't necessarily say he was in love, he felt strongly about you. the way your easy-going smile would morph into a look of defiance and mischief once provoked was enough for his heart to start beating erratically in his chest. how you'd hold his hand absentmindedly when you two would be caught in a crowd, how your eyes shone like the stars when you'd laugh at a stupid joke donghyuck or johnny would make, the furrow of your brows when you were deep in thought, the childish lilt in your voice when you'd tease poor jaehyun on the rare occasion that he was flustered. sicheng felt strongly about it all.

"sicheng? are you still there? you've gone awfully quiet," you trail off from your story about how jeno had gotten one of renjun and donghyuck's arguments on tape.

"what? oh yeah, just thinking about some things," his voice tapers off at the end of his sentence. he can hear a faint hum of concern from your end, as well as the sound of rustling sheets.

"what kind of things?" you ask softly.

sicheng hums, repositioning himself and resting his chin on his arm. "nice things,"

"you're a shit conversationalist, you know that?" an exasperated sigh crackles through the crappy speakers of sicheng's phone.

he chuckles, a pleasant, low sound that comes deep from his chest. "so i've been told," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, silence fills the air. the tired boy closes his eyes and listens to the soft hum of your air conditioning.

"your grandma told me about how you forgot your umbrella this morning," sicheng can envision the small pout on your lips, the same one you always wear when you scold him.

"is that so?" he doesn't bother suppressing a smile.

"yeah, she did," you sigh. sicheng hears more rustling, this time accompanied by a soft grunt. "you should stop overworking yourself. i don't know why you feel the need to keep tiring yourself out to the point where you can barely remember to eat breakfast. don't do that to yourself!"

"i know, i'm sorry," he apologizes. he's noticed you have a wonderful knack for encouraging and reassuring people. he loves that about you.

"yeah, you better be..." and once more, it's silent between you two. sicheng doesn't really mind; it's the kind of silence like in those cheesy romance books, the comfortable one where neither of you have to worry about filling the gap. it's nice, he thinks.

just as sicheng begins to nod off to sleep, he hears the muffled call of your name, presumably from your mother.

"oh, i have to go now," sicheng shakes the temptation of sleep away from his mind and feels the familiar dread that always came when you'd tell him you needed to go. "i'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah? and don't forget to eat dinner and shower tonight! your grandma's really worried about you!"

a plethora of reassurances leave sicheng's mouth as you list the things he needs to do. the boy is hardly able to quell the urge to roll his eyes. "i know, i know! don't worry so much about me, i can take care of myself!"

an indignant huff sounds from your end of the line, but softens into a relenting sigh. "i know sicheng, but you can't blame me! you're my best friend, i have a right to worry about you!"

he feels a strange stirring in his heart at your words, but he chooses to ignore it. "i know. i'll try my best to take better care of myself, so don't worry so much about me, okay?"

the line goes silent for a second. "okay,"

"okay," he closes his eyes once more, chewing on the soft flesh of his lower lip. "and (name)?"

"yeah, sicheng?"

sicheng hesitates for a second too long, for as soon as the words "i think i'm in love with you," leave his lips,

the call had already ended.

67 notes · View notes

walviemort · 3 years ago

Text

Fairy Godfather, part 2

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! This is kind of consuming me so you’ll be getting these pretty often, I hope! thanks to @sancocnutclub for all her encouragement ;)

rated T / 2.2k words / part 1 / AO3

He didn’t wake until mid morning the next day, and was still fairly fatigued, but otherwise felt alright—just a bit tender about the middle.

A shower helped dissolve most of the lingering soreness, and he took some time in front of the mirror to look for any changes.

Given that his stomach had never returned to its previous hardened state, it was hard to notice any discernible change in shape, but when he poked around, there was definitely a rounded area that hadn’t been there before.

He also took a moment to memorize his body as it was; it wouldn’t be long before the babes made their presence visibly known, and the changes that happened while pregnant with Hope were still fresh in his mind. He was both glad that Belle was keeping track of his stats, and already dreading it.

But she was probably waiting for him, so he needed to get a move on—and something to eat; he was starting to feel peckish, but couldn’t tell whether or not it was more than usual.

His normal jeans still fit comfortably, albeit a hair snug. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d relish it while it did. At least his shirts would last longer; he’d found a new appreciation for the forgiving cotton knits of this realm in his second trimester.

Emma was already at the station when he got downstairs, but she’d left behind plenty of pancakes, and he ate a few more than normal; he wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

Before heading to the library, he went to pick up Hope from her sleepover with her grandparents. David greeted him at the door, with tiny Ruth asleep on his chest.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, hardly able to keep his eyes away from Killian’s midsection.

“Fine, as far as I could tell. Weird, but fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, thankfully, but I’m sure there will be plenty of aches and pains later.”

David winced. “Man, am I glad they asked you and not me. This one was enough,” he said, patting Ruth’s back gently.

“I don’t disagree, but…”

“But you feel like you owe them,” David finished.

“Aye.”

“Well, I think it’ll be the other way around by the end of this, but we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“I appreciate it—and I’m sure we’ll need it with this one,” he replied, nodding at Hope, who was attempting to escape out a window.

She was easily wrangled, though, and happy to see him. He had no idea what fairy infants were like, but if they were half as charming as his daughter (who definitely took after her grandfather), this whole town would revolve around them.

As he thought, Belle was waiting for him, tape measure in hand. “Seriously?” he griped as he set Hope down next to Gideon in the playpen behind the circulation desk.

“You can’t possibly be surprised,” she threw back. “But if it’s any consolation, I won’t do it again until next week.”

“You only did it monthly last time around.”

“You were only carrying one babe.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Though his waist measurement remained unchanged, his weight was slightly higher (more than could be expected by a few extra pancakes). “I can feel it,” he confirmed when she asked. “There’s definitely something in there, though I only notice it if I go looking for it.”

Belle made a note and then flipped back and forth between some pages. “That matches up with when you found out you were expecting Hope; so do your measurements, and that was, what 8 weeks?”

“Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Second pregnancies do show sooner, too.”

“Especially this one,” he grumbled.

“Oh yeah,” she agreed.

The day continued normally, although his hand did gravitate to his stomach pretty often, without thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, he still knew what was there, and his subconscious seemed to have already set out to protect it—that, or his hormones were already starting to affect him.

Based on his reaction when Emma arrived that afternoon—particularly to his train of thought when she bent down to pick up a napping Hope—it was definitely hormones. His jeans felt a very different kind of tight then; something he acted on later that night, after a slightly larger than usual dinner.

“Those hormones kicked in fast,” a sated Emma breathed as they came down from their shared high. “You haven’t been that voracious since we found out we were having a girl.”

“Are you complaining?” he panted.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” And they went for another round.

In fact, he was so insatiable the next couple of weeks that, despite his elevated appetite, no other discernible change in his weight was noticed; his waist actually went down a bit.

“Are you feeling alright? Keeping food down and everything?” Belle asked, worried, as she recorded his 2-week measurements, comparing them to his 10-week from his first pregnancy. “Last time, you couldn’t eat more than chicken rice about now.”

“Trust me—I feel more than fine,” he assured her. “Were it not for Emma’s implanted contraception, we’d likely need to be planning for a more traditional pregnancy.”

“That’s a very eloquent way of saying you can’t keep your hands off your wife.”

“I could have phrased it crudely—how many synonyms for ‘sex’ did you want Gideon to learn today?”

“None!” she exclaimed, covering her son’s impressionable ears. He was at the age when he repeated anything said around him—a fact they noticed when Gideon’s favorite phrase became “bloody hell.”

“What are uncles for, though?” he teased with a wink.

Belle just groaned and threatened to teach Hope how to read with romance novels. Killian, however, was just glad she slept through the night so she didn’t interrupt the real thing.

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

Where there had been some hubbub about town during Killian’s first pregnancy—and quite a lot of gawking—no one seemed as shocked this time around. They’d made no effort to keep it a secret, letting the Storybrooke rumor mill do its job, but either the town was more aware than Killian had been about fairy reproduction, or they had become jaded to such magical oddities (he assumed the latter).

That said—he had to assume the gawking would eventually return.

Especially with the way Granny was feeding him. To be fair, she wasn’t letting him overindulge, but he’d noticed his portions were larger, and the amount of vegetables increased. He wondered if Blue had given her some nutritional instruction, or if it was just her innate grandmotherly instincts.

The first time she slid an extra helping of broccoli over, he tried to protest, delicious as it looked.

“Oh no—eat up, young man,” she commanded. “If my math is right, you’re eating for 10. I should probably be feeding you more, actually.”

Emma snickered next to him—they were on lunch break from the station—but he wasn’t sure if it was at Granny’s tutting or the fact that Killian had just realized the magnitude of…well, all of it.

So when Granny slid some extra onion rings across the counter, he didn’t complain (but obviously shared them with his wife).

He wanted to blame it on those extra treats—onion rings, fries, pie, muffins—when they noticed an expansion in his waist measurement at 3 weeks, but it was definitely the babes; he could still wear his normal jeans, but was seeing some rounding behind his navel.

And at 4 weeks—a month since the babes were transferred—it could finally be deemed a bump: there was a gentle curve to his whole stomach, from just under his pecs to his hips (which had been aching a bit as they widened some, likely in anticipation of the heavy load to come). Given the way he and Emma’s evening activities hadn’t slowed, he knew it was all the babies.

Belle hummed as she compared the notes she’d just taken with those from last time. “Well, that’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Emma asked; she’d joined them for that week’s check in, curious to see where things were.

“This week’s measurements match up with those from the end of the first trimester last time, which I suppose isn’t a huge surprise, but…”

“But I have a lot more to go than two trimesters,” he finished.

All eyes were on his stomach for a long while after that, likely all wondering the same thing: just how large would he get?

The only thing that took their attention away was the ringing of the bell over the door as someone arrived—Blue, it turned out. “Hi,” she greeted, clearly trying to be casual. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d stay away from him for the duration of the pregnancy, although he had expected more subtle surveillance.

They chatted briefly about how he was feeling, and she studied his stomach with an outstretched hand, he assumed to do her own magical assessment. “Yes, they seem to be doing quite well; that’s good.”

“Did you think they weren’t?” Emma quipped.

“No, of course not,” Blue assured her. “Would it be odd to express my excitement?”

Well, they all understood that. “How long has it been since your last brood?” Belle had to ask.

“Over fifty years,” Blue answered. “They’re usually every five to ten, depending on the solstice.”

“And when you don’t have a series of curses in the way,” Emma added.

Blue glanced over Belle’s notes with interest. “That does seem to match up with past broods, though I don’t think anyone ever thought to take such detailed notes.”

“Are there any?” Belle asked. “I don’t have anything here, but if you had some back at the convent, it’d be great for comparison.”

“I’d have to check our library,” Blue answered. “There might be a few scrolls, but we’re not much for recorded history.”

“I can tell,” Belle complained.

After some more chatting, Blue excused herself, but did ask if it was alright if she checked in periodically.

“Of course,” Killian said. “It’s your brood. Plus, I’m certain we’ll need to take you up on the offer of help sooner rather than later, if this is where I’m already at after only 4 weeks,” he added, gesturing to his still-small bump.

“Absolutely,” Blue said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled her wand out of nowhere and twirled it at Killian’s midsection. His skin grew warm for a moment, but then returned to normal. “I’m not sure if the original spell will account for the size, as far as how it treats your skin; that should eliminate any damage.”

“No stretch marks?” he wondered.

“No—not any new ones, at least.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

She then left as quickly as she appeared.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to get used to,” he sighed, and then they went about their day. But he was starting to grow very concerned about what lay ahead for him; he knew this wouldn’t be a small feat, but was worried it would be more than he could handle.

As time progressed, his bump steadily grew, though not unnaturally so. At 5 weeks, it was yet more noticeable; at 6, he finally had to concede defeat and dig out his maternity jeans, though they were still plenty roomy. By the end of the second month, he wasn’t quite where he’d been at the end of his second trimester, but it was definitely a baby bump—roughly where he’d been around 24 weeks with Hope, even though he was only at 8 with this one.

It was around then, though, that he noticed the first flutterings inside. He thought he’d noticed it the week before, but chalked it up to gas or something like that; Granny had been feeding him a lot of black beans lately. But late one night, after yet another glorious session of lovemaking, Emma’s hand had drifted to his belly and even she took notice.

“Wow, they’re actually starting to move in there, huh?”

“Seems like it. You don’t suppose they actually have wings already, do they?”

“Normal babies hardly have limbs at this stage, so probably not.”

They lay peacefully in the afterglow for a bit, before he asked quietly, “You are okay with this, right?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ask, nor was it likely to be the last. But it was a large undertaking and though she hadn’t exactly protested, he knew it wasn’t something she’d have volunteered for.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Even if this was partly fueled by guilt, I know you probably would have agreed anyway, and that big heart is why I love you so much. And can I say something else?”

“What’s that, love?”

“I was so attracted to you with that baby bump last time, even when you thought you were massive. So as long as your libido holds out, I think we’re both going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, I think I might need some convincing.”

“Then let me show you.” And oh, she did.

Gods, he prayed he’d be able to do that for a while. The next several months were going to be very interesting.

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88 (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

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draqcnheartstrinq · 4 years ago

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Hate That I Want You (Part 6)

Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, emotions, anger.

Note: It's been a long wait but suddenly got a lot of inspiration and got back into my Hogwarts feels! I miss this magical world so badly.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

HTIWY Masterpost

You weren’t used to visiting the Headmaster’s Office and yet that’s exactly where you were called to as soon as you entered Hogwarts Grounds. You imagined Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about your leave, how you will continue classes now you’re back and maybe about how you experienced the funeral.

Maybe Professor Dumbledore would be the kind listening ear you so desperately needed, no one else had ever bothered being that person for you… Except for Grandma.

But you knew that was wishful thinking, besides it would probably be highly unprofessional for a headmaster to get involved in pupils’ private business.

Seeing the big gargoyle statue, that was supposed to be the entrance to his office, extremely intimidated you and as no one was there to guide you inside you waited whilst taking deep breaths. Five minutes must have gone by before you heard stone moving against stone and the spinning of the gargoyle caught your attention. A staircase appeared from the ground up.

Knowing no better you placed yourself on one of the moving steps and let yourself be carried upwards.

“I see you made it back to school, Miss (Y/L/N)”, you heard an old deep voice say as soon as you reached the top, the stairs underneath you locked into place. The big wooden door was already opened and through it you could see a beautifully decorated desk, Dumbledore partially leaning against it.

You walked inside, looking around like a tourist in London and finally answered after taking in the grandeur of the interior. “Yes I did, Professor. I hope nothing important took place whilst I was gone?”

The old man smirked at you, looking over his glasses as if your question sounded funny to him. Nonetheless, he seemed friendly about it all.

“No, nothing too important and certainly not as eventful as before you left.”

That statement made you look up, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. You could’ve been mistaken for a deer in headlights.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t think I understand…”

“Miss (Y/L/N), I know about everything that goes on in this school’s hallways and I know about everyone that resides here. You’re not going to tell me you thought I was going to do nothing about what happened between you and Mr. Black.”

Your mouth now fell open and your eyes widened until you almost believed they would fall out of your skull. Great, The Headmaster knew about the howler and probably every word that your mother had written inside of it. Everyone would be stamping you as a follower of The Dark Lord, a Mudblood killer, a believer of purity. Now even your headmaster knew about the dark family you were born in.

He probably knew about them for a long time but now? There was no doubting he would judge you too…

“Miss, how did the funeral affect you? Was your grandmother very dear to you?”

This question threw you even more, surely he wouldn’t actually be asking you if you were okay. The confusion must’ve been evident on your features as Dumbledore started smiling again.

“I loved my grandmother, more than I loved anyone else probably.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss then. I hope you can find some comfort between these walls.”

More than I could ever get at home, you thought.

The funeral was very small, your parents and other relatives didn’t want to catch a lot of attention from outsiders and most probably didn’t want to pay for someone as ‘not important’ as your grandma. You were the only one to buy a bouquet of white and yellow flowers for her, the ones she always said she loved so much.

The look on your face must have screamed all the things you were feeling for the headmaster took it upon himself to talk some confidence into you. It was nothing but unexpected, the way he seemed to care for one of his students, let alone you.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I doubt anyone in Hogwarts is left to wonder what your intentions are. The most wonderful and strong souls hold the most painful secrets after all.”

It’s those words, spoken by a man you barely knew, that have brought you the most comfort in the past five days. He said it softly but with determination, it made you believe what he said, no matter the words he spoke. It made you wonder.

A silence fell over the room. Whilst you were fighting through thoughts in your head, thinking about yourself, your grandmother, what was to come your way here at Hogwarts, Dumbledore walked to the other side of his desk and sat himself down on his big almost golden chair. It could resemble a throne if you didn’t know any better.

The man intertwined his hands and sat there for a little while, looking at you over his glasses like a grandfather would at his grandchild.

“You must be a little lost right now but don’t worry, everything will fall back onto its feet. In the meantime I’m sure young Mr. Black will do everything in his power to make things right.”

“I’m sorry headmaster, but I highly doubt that”, you answered, genuinely convinced Sirius couldn’t care any less about what happened to you.

“I guess you will have to take my word for it then.” And once again Dumbledore spoke with such confidence in his words that you couldn’t help but doubt your own opinions. Maybe all the rumors were true, maybe this man in front of you really had a third eye seeing everything all at once. Even in the magical world you lived in this was something to be admired.

“Please close the door on your way out, Miss (Y/LN), and give my regards to your dormmates. Also say hello to Sirius downstairs.”

Your eyes went wide because just like that the conversation was over. A little overwhelmed and at the same time underwhelmed you made your way back down the winding staircase. Out of all the things the headmaster could’ve said, he stayed vague, didn’t say a word about the classes you missed and what in the bloody Merlin’s beard did he mean by Say hello to Sirius downstairs.

You couldn’t even finish that last thought before you saw two exhausted grey eyes looking back at you. Two lips parted, panting away as if the guy had run his lungs out of his chest. After a few seconds the rustling of paper caught your attention as you looked down towards his hands. They held a bundle of parchment, tightly almost like a lifeline.

When you looked back up at his face Sirius started talking, no, more like rambling. With every word your anger grew.

“I talked to your friends, well, the girls talked to your friends and I stood there listening, but they said you would need detailed summaries of the lessons you missed this week and I thought maybe some more from me would help. Maybe your roommates missed out on some stuff so I wanted to make sure to give my notes on top of theirs because maybe you would need them… And I know it’s not much, but I- I really hope you’ll take them because I don’t want you to lack behind because of this situation you’re in and… I’m sorr-”

“Save it, Black.”

Your hard and unforgiving tone made him look up from the ground he was rambling towards. He finally met your eyes and saw the anger you held in them. He didn’t blame you, he understood, he was prepared for it because of the thousands of times he played this moment in his head the last few days.

He was prepared for the frown he saw, he had imagined it to be so much worse than it was. But he wasn’t prepared for the other emotions he also read on your features.

Sorrow, grief, fatigue, exhaustion, loneliness,...

The list could go on but none of the emotions were anything positive.

He could probably write an essay about all the things he saw by just looking at your face. Sirius wondered how long you had been dragging these feelings along without ever giving them a voice, without ever breaking your front. The first time he saw you break was in The Great Hall after receiving your howler but your act was quickly regained, the second time was in the hallway when you looked at him like he broke your entire world, after the news of your grandma had been revealed to the whole school. And now a third time.

It took him more than six years to see what others had long before him. It took him six years to see an ounce of humanity in you. Now that he did see, he saw more than he could bear. More than anyone should have to carry.

“Please, I- I just want you to take my notes. It’ll help you, it’ll give me a peace of mind.”

“And where is my peace of mind?” you questioned him, less angry and more disappointed this time. Another emotion Sirius didn’t like to see.

Your voice quivered just enough to reveal a whole new load of feelings. Your eyes searched his for something he couldn’t decipher, they looked pleadingly before closing and your chest rising with a deep shaking breath.

When they opened again your whole demeanor was as unreadable as all those years before. Not a single sign of any emotion left. You looked just… indifferent like always.

Sirius didn’t know which of these states of yours he disliked the most. The one where you let go of everything, showing all the things you feel in one single look at your eyes or the one where you show absolutely nothing at all.

“I don’t want your notes, give them to one of your latest conquests.”

With those words you took off towards the dungeons, steady pace, the sound of your shoes echoing.

The guy you left standing there nothing more than a boy watching his hopes walk away from him, papers still crumbling in his grip, regrets still twirling in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A long while later Sirius finally entered the Gryffindor Common Room again. He sat himself on one of the couches away from the hearth, throwing the papers onto a nearby table to rest his head in his hands.

He had expected this to go so different from the way it actually went. He had hoped for an acceptance of the notes he took, maybe a loud argument or a back and forth of shouted words. That way he would’ve at least known you had your energy back, he would’ve seen that burning fire like every time you would normally cross him in the halls.

Instead he got the ashes of a fire that lost its last substance to burn. A wood that had been exhausted, burned to the ground, wet with rain from a storm. Nothing left to give.

“I take it she didn’t want the summary”, Remus came to sit next to him on the red cushions. A quiet chatter finally reached Sirius’ ears as he realised they weren’t the only ones still awake. He looked around him, before turning his attention on Remus and his face back to the floor with his elbows on his thighs, supporting himself.

“No, and honestly I don’t blame her.” It came out as a whisper, not enough energy left in the boy’s body to speak any louder. “I’m mentally exhausted and that doesn’t even begin to describe how she is feeling, Remus, she looked so… so… I don’t even know if there are words to say how she looked.”

“You’ve finally seen what we’ve seen for a few months now, some of us years.”

“I think even a blind person would’ve seen it before I did.”

“Most probably”, Remus chuckled and threw his arms over the back of the couch. “She’ll come around, she’ll forgive you if you keep it obvious how sorry you are.”

“Will she?” Sirius let that question linger between them for a little, he let it sink in. “Because I sure wouldn’t forgive me.”

It was Remus’ turn to sigh. He too had his doubts but wanted to keep his friends’ hopes high.

“No, You’re right, I wouldn’t forgive you either.”

They looked at each other, Sirius slumping his shoulders. Remus then watches the stars outside of the window and the deep blue sky visible from the inside of the common room.

“Let’s hope she’s a better person than we are.”

HTIWY Masterpost

Thanks for reading! Taglist will follow in a reblog. Want to be added or removed? Send me an ask xxx

#sirius black #x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #imagine #fanfiction #hp #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #sirius black x pure-blood!reader #sirius black x slitherin reader #sirius black x slitherin!reader #my writing #fan writing #hate that i want you

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whitesparrows97 · 4 years ago

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Heartstring Melodies – Part 8

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (feat. Jeon Jungkook x Reader)

Genre: Soulmate AU, College AU, fuckboy!Yoongi

Summary: Min Yoongi, the fuckboy of the whole college and the guy all girls fall for, should be your soulmate? You don’t believe that, you don’t want to believe that. Therefore, you and your best friend make a pact: She pretends to be you and gets together with Yoongi. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?

Warnings: Angst, talking about death and losing a loved one

Word Count: 6.1K

Previous / Next

Chapter eight: «Remember tonight… for it is the beginning of always.» – d.a.

You were still watching Hoseok’s car as it disappeared in the distance and stood motionless in front of the building for a few minutes before you took a deep breath and walked in the opposite direction of the entrance. You needed fresh air and the movement in your legs to distract you from the chaos in your head and heart. You fished your cell phone out of your pocket and dialed Seokjin’s number. He picked up the phone the first time it rang and you were surprised that he was even awake that late.

“Y/N, where are you?” His voice sounded worried, slightly out of breath. You wondered for a short moment whether he was at home or even on the road.

Confused, you frowned. “Hello, Jin,” you greeted him and ignored his question for now. It wasn’t like him to immediately jump straight to the point like that.

“Yes, hello, hello,” he rattled off, “Are you home? Or are you still at the party?”

Your confusion grew even more. “How did you know about the party?”

“I…” he hesitated a moment, “I heard rumors that something happened at the party. With Min Yoongi?”

You closed your eyes at the name and felt your breath leave your lungs. Of course. Of course your drama must have made waves already. Sometimes you had the feeling that a college campus was like a pack of starving wolves that would pounce on anything that came their way. “Who told you that?”

Again, a short hesitation, but you noticed it anyway. “Um… Namjoon. A friend of his was also at the party and saw everything practically from the front row.”

“Great,” you replied sarcastically. Front row? Was this a soccer game or what? You wouldn’t be surprised if people had watched everything unfold eating popcorn. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders tighter when a gust of wind made you shiver in the cool night. “Can… can I come over? I really need someone to talk to right now.”

“I’m already on my way to you,” Seokjin said and at the same moment you were illuminated by two bright lights that belonged to a car that came around the corner. You turned around and narrowed your eyes as the light blinded you. Then you saw Jin waving at you through the windshield. You finished the call and jogged to the car. Jin turned up the heat a little higher when he noticed you were shivering.

“Thanks,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon by the way,” you heard someone say from the back seat and flinched in surprise. You didn’t expect anyone else besides Jin to be in the car with you.

You turned around and looked into the face of a young man, probably a little younger than Jin. He smiled apologetically at you and your eyes fell briefly on the two dimples that formed on his cheeks.

“Y/N,” you replied and nodded to him with a slight smile. “My reputation probably precedes me.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” he tried to calm you down but Jin clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“It’s not that bad?” he repeated and gave you a quick side glance, “Y/N, my God. Why didn’t you tell me about the shit you got yourself into?”

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how,” you sighed. All of a sudden your head was so heavy with fatigue that you had to lean it against the window pane. You were having trouble breathing and your tattoo was tingling uncomfortably. For a short moment you felt the panic rising inside you as you wondered if Yoongi was okay. You still had his disappointed and worried face before your eyes when you left the party with Jungkook and Hoseok.

“So?” Jin kept asking when you were too absorbed in thought to go on.

“Yoongi is my soulmate.”

“Oh well, no shit,” Jin interrupted you directly and you saw him rolling his eyes out of the corner of your eye.

“Jin,” you only said softly. You didn’t have the strength to argue with him. “I didn’t want him as my soulmate, so I let Liv have him.”

“How generous.”

You pressed your lips together. This was exactly what you were afraid Jin wouldn’t understand. You blamed yourself enough. You didn’t need to be reminded of it by anyone else. Although, the longer you thought about it, the more you questioned that statement. You knew exactly what you were doing and what the consequences would be. Still, that did not stop you from not doing it. Maybe you really needed someone to put you in your place. You couldn’t rely on Liv in that case.

By the way.

You looked at your cell phone, which you still held tightly in one hand. No message. Of course not. Even if it shouldn’t surprise you, you couldn’t deny the short sting in your heart. You were best friends for years. It hurt that it broke up like that now.

“You really should talk to Yoongi,” Jin said after a long break while you sat silently in the car. Only the engine of the car and the blowing of the heating system were all that could be heard.

“From what I heard, Yoongi must have looked pretty upset,” Namjoon added, and you caught Jin giving him an evil look in the rearview mirror.

“Not much help,” he murmured before turning his attention back to the street in front of him. You were relieved when you recognized the street and the buildings flying past you. Soon you would have arrived at Jin’s apartment. “I am serious. I can understand that you don’t want a soulmate and that you see this as an intrusion into your freedom–”

“That is not the reason,” you interrupted his monologue with a murmur.

“But,” Jin stressed, without going into your comment, “that doesn’t mean you have the right to hurt him like that. He is your soulmate, how would you feel if he had done the same to you? You should have talked to him, maybe all this would have cleared up. Maybe you could have become friends first.”

“That’s not how it works,” you mumbled.

Jin raised an eyebrow at that. “No? Are you directly attracted to the other person?”

You nodded without saying a word. Your head was too busy recalling Yoongi’s soft lips and slim, long fingers that caressed your hair and embraced your chin.

“Do you want to elaborate? Is there anything I should know?”

“Hm,” you just said, and all of a sudden the little crumbs that were on the dashboard of the car became particularly interesting, so you turned your attention to them.

“Do I want to know?”

“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly, and Jin groaned.

“How can you get yourself into such a mess in a few days?” He shook his head when he parked outside his apartment. “Well, here we are. Are you hungry? I made some soup earlier, maybe it will help.”

Thankfully, you took him up on his offer when he let you and Namjoon into his apartment, and he disappeared right into the kitchen to warm it up. You and Namjoon took a seat on the small sofa in the living room. You watched Namjoon sit down, visibly nervous, and smiled at him encouragingly. “So, you’re a friend of Jin’s?”

Namjoon rubbed his neck slightly embarrassed. “So, uh… Maybe it would be better if Jin told you about this himself.”

Confused, you frowned. “Why is that?” you asked, but then a thought popped into your head. You heard yourself make a surprised sound and your eyebrows shot up so far that they almost disappeared into your hairline. “Are you…” you lowered your voice, which had become louder with excitement, “Are you together?” You leaned forward a bit and looked at Namjoon excitedly.

Namjoon turned his gaze to the ground for a moment, embarrassed, before nodding hesitantly. “We only met a few weeks ago, so I don’t really know which way this is going. But I really like him.”

You held yourself back, not to make another happy, excited sound. You were incredibly thrilled for your friend and this joy even pushed the feeling of guilt into the background, which you still felt when you thought back to Jungkook.

“I’m glad about that. You are a good match,” you honestly said and gave him a warm smile.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Jin, who came into the room at that moment and placed a bowl of steaming hot soup on the coffee table in front of you. “I’m much more interested in how you were able to hurt Yoongi and Jungkook in one fell swoop.”

Sighing, you grabbed the spoon and began to scoop the soup into yourself. “I thought we were done with this?”

“You’d like that, missy,” he said and leaned back in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. “Does he at least know now that you are Y/N and not Liv?”

You shook your head. “He asked me at the party, but I couldn’t admit it. Not while everyone else was there and their attention was on us.”

Jin sighed and rubbed his face, tired. “What am I going to do with you?” he murmured into his hands and you turned your gaze to your soup in front of you. You had lost your appetite. Instead, an uncomfortable mass had settled in your stomach, which took your inside and spread further and further. None of you said anything anymore and only the unspoken reproaches hung in the room.

Then you finally broke the silence after a few minutes. “I’ll fix this,” you promised and looked at Jin determined. And you promised not only Jin or Namjoon or also Yoongi who couldn’t hear your promise. But above all, you promised yourself.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Your first action on your amends list was to accompany Jin to the lab on Monday morning. Enough of sitting around, twiddling your thumbs and sulking. You had gone home early yesterday morning and spent the whole day thinking about what you would say to Yoongi. How you would have a chance to make up for everything. You knew that he wouldn’t just accept you again. At least he shouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

But you didn’t want to think about that for now. You concentrated on reading and understanding the instructions on the task sheet before you helped Jin get the necessary utensils and supplies from the various cupboards. He was visibly glad that you helped him today and that he didn’t have to do the experiment on his own. This thought alone made your guilty conscience flare up for a moment. But you suppressed it. It was time that you left this feeling behind. You had to make up for a lot of things, but that’s exactly what you started now. You thanked Jin again for doing so much preparatory work. He might not have been aware of it but he had saved your butt the last weeks. Without him, you would probably fail this semester.

He brushed off your thanks with a wave of his hand. “It’s okay, I understand that you had a lot on your mind. And you’re here now, that’s the important thing.” He threw a big grin at you, which made you breathe a sigh of relief. “Have you handed in your report on clownfish yet?” Jin asked as he looked through the microscope. You were glad he didn’t see the look on your face when you were reminded of your and Jungkook’s first date. You remembered his excited and enthusiasm when he had pointed at a clownfish. Before you knew it, a sigh had slipped across your lips. Jin looked up from the microscope and frowned at you.

“Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, despite the fact that you had a lump in your throat. “No,” you said and cleared your throat once when your voice failed, “It’s okay. I was just thinking about Jungkook.”

“Oh,” Jin said and you could see out of the corner of your eye how he hesitated with his answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe some other time,” you politely denied, “I just hope he can forgive me someday,” you mumbled and also looked through the microscope to distract you and take your mind off things. You should concentrate, you had promised Jin and also yourself.

“I’m sure he will eventually,” you heard Jin say next to you and a second later you felt his reassuring hand on your shoulder, “Give him some time.”

Jungkook’s words came back into your head and sadly you pushed the microscope aside. “And what if time doesn’t help? Time doesn’t heal all wounds.”

“Wow,” said Jin and a light smile played around his lips, “I never knew you were so poetic, Y/N.”

“Oh, shut up,” you replied and slapped him lightly on the upper arm. Gasping for air, he backed off and rubbed his aching arm. He glared at you angrily for a moment before his gaze slipped on something behind you.

“You’re not allowed in here without a lab coat,” Jin suddenly said very seriously and confused, you turned around. You looked directly into Yoongi’s eyes, who was standing a few meters away from you, staring at you silently. From his gaze, you could practically see that the cat was out of the bag. He had heard what name Jin had addressed you by. It didn’t make sense to deny your lies anymore.

Jin seemed to have noticed it, too. “Maybe you’d rather talk outside?” he suggested quietly next to you and absent-mindedly you nodded. Yoongi turned around at Jin’s words without a word and walked towards the exit of the lab room.

You quickly pulled the coat off your shoulders and hung it on the rack next to the door before you followed Yoongi with your heart pounding loudly. With sweaty fingers you closed the door behind you again and hardly dared to look at Yoongi who stood a few meters away. When you looked up briefly, you saw that Yoongi had his eyes on the floor. Was he angry? Would he yell at you any moment? Or were you worried for nothing and he didn’t even–

“What the hell?” he threw at you when you stopped in front of him. He looked up and you saw anger flaring up in his eyes. You couldn’t blame him. You probably wouldn’t have been so calm if you were in his place. Yet you winced at his words and tone of voice and had to swallow the lump in your throat. “So you lied on Saturday? Again?”

You shrank a little more at his words. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you were too ashamed.

“Do you have any idea how shitty I’ve felt the last two days?” He threw both his arms in the air. You wished that the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you up forever. “To be honest, for the last two weeks even. I’ve been racking my brains over and over again about what’s wrong with me and why I don’t feel anything for my soulmate. Turns out that my soulmate was not who I thought she was. My soulmate apparently wants nothing to do with me and doesn’t even respect me enough to talk to me about it.” You saw out of the corner of your eye how he had talked himself into such a rage that he had to catch his breath. “I just don’t understand why. What have I done to you to make you do this to me?”

You still had your eyes on the ground. The corners of your eyes began to burn as you felt Yoongi’s gaze on you. He expected an answer, an answer you couldn’t really give him. Looking back, you realized how stupid the whole plan was and you cursed both you and Liv for going through with it.

“You can’t even look at me,” he said and spat the sentence right at your feet. From there it stared at you with a ghastly grimace and demanded that you finally tell the truth.

You cleared your throat for fear that your voice would fail again and only come out as a silent scratch. Carefully you dared to look up and your heart contracted painfully as you saw Yoongi’s confused and hurt expression. “I’m sorry,” you whispered and had to suppress the strong need to bridge the last steps between you and embrace him. You wanted so badly to explain everything to him that it wasn’t his fault and that everything would be better now. But your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“Well, there you go,” he murmured, exhaling in frustration the air he had been holding.

“We are just so different,” you tried to explain yourself, to clear up the unpleasant atmosphere between you, “I never thought that we … that we could be soulmates.”

“Yes, I would have imagined someone else, too. Maybe someone a bit more honest,” Yoongi said and rolled his eyes. You tried not to give too much meaning to his words but they still hurt. Maybe Liv was right when she said that Yoongi would never accept you as a soulmate anyway. You mostly didn’t even accept yourself. And you also understood that you probably deserved that after your actions the last two weeks. But that didn’t change the fact that it hurt to hear it so clearly. “And your behaviour with Jungkook was also completely out of line,” he continued and you agreed with a nod towards the floor. “He didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I know,” you said softly. You knew all that and it hurt to hear it all served up on a silver platter again. “Anything else?” you therefore asked after a short pause.

“Anything else?” Yoongi repeated outraged, “I can continue this list, Y/N. Why? Do you feel bad?”

Your eyes flickered briefly in his direction, but you quickly lowered your gaze again.

“What did you expect, Y/N? That I would thank you and jump in your arms because you suddenly changed your mind and wanted me as your soulmate? Would you even like that? I just don’t know what goes on in your head. You didn’t even have the guts to tell me the truth. Instead, I have to figure out a theory for myself that will be confirmed because your friend calls you by your name and I happen to hear it.” You could feel his gaze on you, which pierced you, but you still couldn’t return it. “Tell me something, Y/N. Would you have told me the truth if I had not heard it and asked you now? Would you have even sought the conversation if I hadn’t shown up here? Because you don’t look particularly happy that I’m here.”

“And what do you expect from me now?” you asked him the same question back loudly and your exclamation echoed in the hallway from the walls and lockers. “Newsflash: You are not the only one who has been miserable the last few days! I have blamed myself so much that I hurt you and Jungkook. I have lost my best friend, whom I have known for years, even decades, and all because of such stupid lines on my skin.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you or what do you want me to say?” He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked at you with a blank expression.

“I don’t want your pity, Min Yoongi. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Good.”

“Good…” What? What just happened? This isn’t how you imagined this conversation. It was the exact opposite of what you were thinking of yesterday. No, no, you couldn’t part like that. You took a deep breath to sort out your jumbled thoughts and calm down again. “That was a lie,” you uttered what you should have done weeks ago.

Yoongi slowly raised an eyebrow as if he had expected this answer. “What exactly?” he asked anyway and you wondered if he actually just wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“That I want nothing from you.”

“Good,” he repeated and nodded once. Then he came a step towards you and you held your breath. “Go on.”

“I’m an idiot and I put my fears and anxieties before your feelings. I’m sorry about that.”

“Uh-huh,” he said and came one step closer.

“I should have talked to you instead of coming up with this stupid plan.”

“Wait, that was your idea?” he asked in surprise and frowned. “Liv told me that it was her idea.”

Now it was your turn to look at him confused. “You two spoke to each other?”

He nodded. “Yesterday. She wanted to meet up with me and work this out. At first I thought it was another one of her plans, but she actually wanted to explain everything. How else would I have found out where to find you today?”

You didn’t know what to think. Did Liv help you clarify things with Yoongi? And did she even take the blame so that you were better off in front of Yoongi? As noble as she was, you were sick of lies. So you shook your head. “It wasn’t her idea, it was really mine. And I know now that it was wrong. It was just too much for me at that moment.”

“I understand that,” he said. Those three words were what you had so much hoped for from him. He understood. He didn’t know the whole story and yet he understood you. Hesitantly you smiled at him. And he returned it. “Shall we go to my place? And talk about everything in peace?”

Your head nodded without you registering. “Jin will hate me if I let him down again,” you noticed with a short hesitation. But Yoongi suddenly took your hand and stroked the back of your hand calmly. Your gaze fell on your hands and you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was spreading in your chest.

“I can wait and we’II meet when you’re done here.” His eyes sparkled slightly as he smiled at you.

But you shook your head and, after a moment of hesitation, took Yoongi’s hand. He could not hide his slight surprise. “This can’t wait, I’ve kept you waiting too long, Yoongi. I’m sure Jin will understand.”

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly upwards and he avoided your gaze “I like the way you say my name,” he murmured and it looked like his cheeks were turning a slight pinkish tone. But before you could get a closer look, he had let go of your hand and nodded towards the lab. “Go ahead, I’ll wait for you here. I don’t want him bitching at me again about being in the lab without a lab coat.”

You laughed softly and took a few steps back without letting him out of your sight. Then you smiled at him again before you quickly walked back to the lab.

You had just pushed the door shut when you almost walked into Jin’s chest. Surprised, you looked up at him. “Hi.”

“Come on,” he sighed and nodded towards the door. “As they say, you shouldn’t stop lovers.”

Your eyes widened. “We are not lovers! Don’t say that,” you mumbled the last part.

“I can see that in your smile and your reddened cheeks. So now go, don’t keep him waiting.” He turned you by the shoulders back towards the door and pushed you forward. “But promise me you’ll tell me everything about what soulmate sex feels like.”

“JIN!” you shouted, but by then he had pushed the door open and shoved you into the hallway.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The bus ride to Yoongi’s apartment went by in no time. Neither of you said much and after a few minutes Yoongi had grabbed your hand again and held it firmly between his two. You had leaned your head against his shoulder shortly afterwards and noticed how your eyelids became heavy after a few minutes. The constant roar of the bus engine and the warmth Yoongi radiated surrounded you like a warm blanket, so that you fell asleep without realizing it. The exertion and tension of the last two weeks caught up with you, so you slept through most of the ride. Only the loud buzzing when someone pressed the stop button startled you from your sleep. When you looked up, Yoongi was already smiling at you and you realized that he must have pressed the button.

The walk from the bus stop to the apartment was short and led through a small park where the leaves of the trees already showed the first signs of autumn. A few minutes later, you stood in the living room of Yoongi’s two-room apartment and glanced at the countless books he had on the shelf. You heard Yoongi working in the kitchen and smiled when you discovered a thick tome on 20th century composers. You were immediately reminded of your first meeting, which felt like it had been ages ago. As if by itself, you raised your hand and stroked carefully over the spine of the book.

“Tea?” Yoongi asked, who suddenly stood next to you and you flinched inevitably because of his sudden appearance. Thankfully, you took the steaming cup from him and wrapped your hands around it. Yoongi followed your gaze and you saw him roll his eyes. “I had to buy a book myself last week after all. The library hasn’t got anything.”

You made an approving sound and sipped cautiously on your cup so as not to burn yourself on the hot drink. “Shall we sit down?” he asked you and you agreed nodding. A little nervously you put the cup down on the coffee table. It had felt good to have something in your hands so you wouldn’t play with your fingers all the time. Like now when you ran them over the soft cover of the sofa.

Yoongi seemed to notice your tension as he put his hand on yours that was between you two. “No need to be nervous, Y/N,” he reassured you with a little smile, “the worst has already been cleared up. I am not angry with you, if that helps you. I just want to know why. Was it because of me or did you generally not want a soulmate?”

You sighed. Even though that would probably bring the mood down, you finally had to tell him the whole truth. As reluctant as you were to talk about it, Yoongi was your soulmate and he deserved that you were honest with him. You turned your hand so that you could grasp his hand and your fingers intertwined naturally.

You sighed with a look at Yoongi, who patiently waited for you to speak. “To be honest, a little bit of both. You always seemed like the typical fuckboy to me.” Yoongi laughed softly at that word and you felt like your heart would jump out of your chest at any moment at the sound. “I’m the exact opposite of you, no one looks at me twice when I walk past.”

“I think you have a wrong idea of yourself then,” Yoongi interrupted you with a short twitch of the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t think so,” you contradicted him. Yoongi probably didn’t understand your problem, all eyes followed him as soon as he entered a room.

“Maybe you just don’t realize it because you’re always so absorbed in thought?” He raised an eyebrow. “Besides, I don’t think we are as different as you might think. We just haven’t had a chance to get to know each other better.”

“That’s true,” you admitted quietly, knowing that was your fault.

But Yoongi immediately took your mind off it when he asked: “And what’s the second part? Why didn’t you want a soulmate?” You hesitated and Yoongi immediately backpedaled. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want ”

“Yes I do,” you contradicted him and squeezed his hand a little harder, “No more lies and secrets. I have to tell you sooner or later anyway.” You took another deep breath. “My parents were soulmates, too. They met in middle school and have spent almost every second together since then. All my childhood and youth I have seen how incredibly beautiful it is to find someone with whom you can spend your whole life without question.” You paused for a moment. “But I also saw how much it can destroy you when that person is taken away from you.”

Yoongi slowly began to understand what you were trying to say and caressed the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you.

“My mother had a stroke about three years ago, and because the brain was not supplied with oxygen for several minutes, she survived but fell into a coma. I never want to get into this situation like my dad, who had to decide whether to turn off the machines. He struggled with himself for over a year, every day, every hour, hoping that she might wake up again. But even if she did wake up at some point, the doctors said that she would probably not wake up… and she wouldn’t have been herself anymore. If the brain is deprived of oxygen for that long… she probably wouldn’t have even recognized us…” You suppressed the tears burning in your eyes.

Yoongi had become very quiet next to you. Only his thumb stroking your hand showed you that he was still sitting next to you. Then he cleared his throat slightly before he grabbed your chin with his free hand and carefully turned your head in his direction. Your breath stopped when you saw how his eyes glistened suspiciously. “I am incredibly sorry about this, Y/N. It all makes so much sense why you are so averse to soulmates. I understand completely.” He brushed the hair from your face that had come loose while talking and gave you a sad smile. “Of course I cannot promise that I will never get sick, but I promise that I will never leave you. From now on you will always have me by your side until you say you’ve had enough of me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you laughed and at the same time a single tear rolled down your cheek. Yoongi caught it with his fingers and wiped it away. You leaned forward and Yoongi wrapped his arms around the middle of your body as you leaned your head on his shoulder. You took a deep breath and felt your whole body relax with Yoongi’s scent. His hands gently stroked your back in slow movements and pressed you closer to him. As if he was afraid that you would vanish into thin air any moment right before his eyes.

You separated from him and looked up to him, your hands still buried in his hoodie. Yoongi raised one hand from your back and gently stroked your hair before leaning forward slightly. Instinctively you closed your eyes and a moment later your lips met. It felt just as good, no, even better, than last time. All the guilt that had taken over you last time was now gone.

The kiss was gentle, passionate and Yoongi was almost cautious. Your lips moved with each other instead of against each other and you felt Yoongi’s tongue tenderly stroke your lips. With a smile, you opened your mouth and let Yoongi’s tongue enter you, eager to finally explore everything. His hands were on your hips, drawing you closer to him. He lifted you as if you weighed nothing and placed you on his lap. You pressed yourself against his chest and buried your hands in his hair. You let your fingers slide through his soft curls and sighed as Yoongi bit your lip almost hesitantly.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but a surprised mixture of both moaning and sighing slipped away when you suddenly felt something hard between your legs. Yoongi had now made it his business to spread little kisses along your jaw before he started sucking on your sensitive skin around your neck.

“Yoongi,” you breathed and already hated yourself to interrupt this making out session.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed against your neck and the vibration sent a shiver down your body. He pulled your hips closer into his lap and now you couldn’t suppress the moan that stumbled across your lips.

“Yoongi, wait a moment,” you asked again and Yoongi stopped in his movements. Confused, he looked up.

“Is this going too fast for you?”

“Not really,” you admitted and felt the heat rise to your cheeks. That it was actually the opposite and that you wanted to tear his clothes off his body was something you kept to yourself for now. “It’s just that you probably have a little more experience than I do.”

“So what?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders and without batting an eyelid.

“I-I don’t know, isn’t it weird that I… I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing sometimes and if that feels good for you.”

Yoongi now looked up at you and leaned back a little. “Wow, wow. Wait a minute, we seem to have some things to clear up. Why would that be weird, baby?”

His pet name took your breath away for a moment. “I don’t know, shouldn’t you have some experience at our age. Like you have?”

Yoongi almost looked at you in astonishment. “Listen to me, Y/N. There are people who say that the way I live is a fuckboy. Just because I like dating women and being close to them physically doesn’t mean that I jump at everything that comes my way. And even if I did,” he added with a shrug of his shoulders, “that wouldn’t matter. Everyone should do what they think is right, as long as they don’t hurt anyone with it.”

“So you don’t have… didn’t…” You felt uncomfortable saying it but Yoongi knew what you were getting at.

“You can ask me how many women I’ve slept with. I’m not ashamed to say.”

“Okay,” you said and asked him to continue.

“Five,” came the simple answer. You didn’t even try to hide your surprise. “Surprised huh? I guess my reputation precedes me a bit. But as I was saying, would anything change for you if there were more? I don’t think so. It’s the here and now that counts, being with you and thinking only of you. And to your fear that I find it weird that you have hardly any experience so far. First of all, I haven’t noticed anything about it yet,” he told you with a wink, “and secondly, we have enough time for me to show you everything. Please do not worry about that.”

“Okay,” you muttered, not yet one hundred percent convinced.

“And the fear that you might do something that doesn’t feel good for me… I think you’re noticing exactly what you’re doing to me,” he muttered and gave you a kiss on the mouth.

You let out a short laugh and gave a shy look between your two bodies. Yoongi immediately grabbed your chin and looked at you seriously. “I mean it, baby. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” you said and nodded. You pressed your lips back to his and slipped your hands under his hoodie. He sighed into the kiss as you stroked his skin. His moans as you grazed his nipples went through your spine and you almost moaned in response.

But then Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists. He laughed softly and leaned back a little. “Maybe we should really slow down after this conversation.”

The disappointment was obvious when you interpreted Yoongi’s laughter correctly. “But… but I want you,” you muttered almost incomprehensibly and Yoongi embraced your face with his hands.

“I want you too, baby, but we have so much time. There’s no need to hurry.”

With pouting lips, you looked back at Yoongi but he just pressed your face tighter between his hands and smiled at you.

“You’re cute when you sulk but that puppy eyes don’t work for me. Just for the future.”

You’d see that.

————————

Hi guys! I hope all of you are doing amazing and are staying safe! And of course I hope you liked this chapter. Do you understand now why Y/N didn’t want a soulmate? Losing a loved one is probably one of the most hurtful things that can happen to you. I sadly speak from experience, so if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate and send me a dm!

Also I’ll be gone from Tuesday to Thursday, so I probably won’t be too active for these three days. So please don’t wonder why I might not answer or reply in this time. I like to take my time (probably more than is healthy but overthinking everything is my life lol) with answering and don’t want to rush anything. I hope you’re having a great start into this new week and see you soon! 💜

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