#I have once again fallen into the trap of joke AU that I don’t think is a joke anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Finders Keepers

the long awaited (sorry!) zombie au. hope y’all enjoy

Seijoh 4 x female reader & Miya twins x female reader

TW Blood, gore, angst, um... toxic relationships?

“Let me see.”

It’s little more than a murmur, but in the quiet stillness of the night your voice carries. It hardly matters; Oikawa has you close, tucked under his arm with his injured leg stretched out between the two of you. He could stop you if he really wanted, but he only watches, those tired, wary eyes fixed on your face as you reach for his pants.

“It’s fine,” he grunts out, yet he can barely get the words out before he’s hissing through his teeth – a knee jerk reaction to the scrape of rough fabric against his wound. His fingers are digging painfully into your arm, and it doesn’t make a difference how gentle you try to be, how many stammered apologies fall from your lips, your fingers are stiff and clumsy and his pants are caked with dried blood and grime, hindering the process.

Pursing your lips, you glance up. “This would go easier if you took these off, you know.”

He cracks a smile at that, strained and tense, but your chest still flutters at the sight of it. “If you wanna get my pants off so badly, cutie, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tooru,” you begin, but he sighs heavily and that brief flicker of mirth glimmering in his eyes fades. Reaching over he picks up his hunting knife, pressing the handle into your palm and letting his fingers slowly curl around yours. The weight of it feels unwieldy and foreign in your hand, and you can’t quite say for sure if the way your breath picks up and hitches is due to your nerves or the way Oikawa’s watching you, his warm hand still wrapped around yours.

“Cut it, then.”

The knife helps, shearing through his pants like butter, but the wound itself is messy – torn threads plastered to congealed blood and dirt – and blunt fingernails sink into your skin and Oikawa grits out a curse when you try to gently ease them free.

It’s worse than you’d thought. A lot worse. Raked over his right knee, five gouges, jagged and gruesome, raw flesh and muscle exposed beneath. Your stomach roils at the sight of it, bile creeping up your throat, and for a moment you’re astounded by how calm he is, sitting there beside you.

If it were you, you’re fairly sure you’d be rolling on the ground howling by now, but the only hint of pain Oikawa’s face betrays is the tightness of his jaw, teeth clenched even as he looses a shuddering breath.

“I-I’ll go see if I can find something to…” to what? Clean the wound? Stitch it? You’re not an idiot, unless this little cottage has an incredibly well stocked first aid kit, you know you’re in trouble. And even if it does, beyond the very basics of clean, disinfect and bandage, you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to fix this.

Iwaizumi was always the one to stitch up their wounds, muttering obscenities under his breath and glaring at them the whole time. It was their own idiot faults for putting themselves in a position where they could get hurt in the first place, he’d say, they could deal with a little pain while he fixed them up. But as you stare at the grisly mess of Oikawa’s knee, there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this might be beyond even Iwa’s level of expertise.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Iwa isn’t here.

Makki and Mattsun aren’t either.

And strangely enough, it’s not the fear of the creatures lurking in the woods that’s gnawing at your gut. It’s Oikawa’s injury, the blood and mangled mess that you can’t even begin to fix, the thought of the trap that’s awaiting the others back at the sanctuary. It’s that feeling of helplessness that’s tightening around your neck like a noose.

“Hey,” Oikawa calls, snagging at your wrist when you try to pull away. “They’ll find us, have a little faith.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod. “I know.”

You don’t have the guts to tell him that that’s only half the problem.

Making do with vodka and some old bandages you’d scrounged up from a first aid kit under the sink, you do what you can for Tooru’s knee. Working by the light of a few flickering candles, your hands shaking like a leaf, it's a job easier said than done, and you can’t help but wince at every pained hiss and grunt that escapes him.

It’s a hack job, a bandaid over a gaping wound, but he thanks you for it anyway, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple as he drags you closer once more. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he murmurs, and the words hang heavy over the both of you; a promise and a sobering reminder in one.

Tucked up in his embrace, you shut your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

Yet the moment you do, you’re right back there again: the hallway doors bursting open and the undead pouring through. Rotting and snarling, the sound of panicked shrieks tearing through the sanctuary in their wake.

Tooru’s hand in yours, yanking you along as he ran. Your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you gasped for breath, your chest burning. And the fear, the horror that threatened to choke you as the others fell behind, their frantic pleas turning into agonised screams.

Everybody else first. The words spoken before any one of them left the safety of the sanctuary; you’d always assumed it was a grim kind of joke between the boys, a good luck charm. How many times had you heard Mattsun laugh it, clapping Iwa on the shoulder, or Makki for that matter, or Oikawa?

‘Come home safe’, you’d thought it meant, not ‘rip the guns out of other survivors’ hands and throw them back into the path of the oncoming undead’.

And then you’d stumbled, tripping over your own two feet. You remember Oikawa cursing, the pain that radiated up your knees and the palms of your hands as you hit the floor hard, and the absolute, bone chilling terror that surged through you when you looked up and saw one of the undead creatures lunge for you; jaw hanging loose, more ripped flesh and gristle than an actual mouth–

Oikawa was too far away, too slow, and even if he wasn’t, you’d just witnessed the lengths he’d go to for self preservation. You’d screamed for him anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and praying you’d go quickly when those fingers and yellowing teeth dug into your flesh and ripped you apart.

And in the space of a single petrified heartbeat, three shots had rung through the air, a warm wetness splattering against your cheek. Tooru was there, kicking the rotting corpse away from you and hauling you back to your feet, back safely against his side.

But the next one was quicker, leaping over the husk of its fallen friend, snarling and bloody and savage, and then it was Tooru who was screaming, undead fingers sinking into the flesh of his leg, ripping as it tried to claw him back.

Heart pounding viciously, your eyes shoot open in the darkness.

Even with the reassurance of Oikawa’s frame pressed up behind you, his breath warm against your skin, sleep doesn’t come easy, and the dawn brings little reprieve.

Stupidly, you’d hoped – prayed – that somehow through the night he might’ve gotten better. It was early in the morning when you’d felt him start to shiver against you. You’d tried to roll away, to give him space so you wouldn’t accidentally knock his leg, but Tooru was having none of it, burrowing in closer, his grip tightening.

And when you’d felt him start to sweat, his arms becoming sticky and clammy, his shirt dampening at your back, that slow, cloying sense of dread took root inside of your stomach.

Under the first rays of morning light, the true extent of Oikawa’s condition is unignorable. Without the luxury of being able to properly close the wound, blood’s seeped through the bandages overnight, leaving them a mottled, macabre red. His face is pale, a thin sheen of sweat dotting at his brow and with every shallow, rattling breath he takes, his body trembles.

It’s more than just simple blood loss.

You think for a moment that he’s unconscious, long lashes fanned out over flushed cheekbones, but the moment you reach for the bandages, his eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he rasps.

You frown, “Tooru–”

“No,” he says. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Between him and Iwaizumi, and to a certain extent, Makki and Mattsun, you’ve never had much of a say in how things are run. You’ve never questioned that they’re the ones in charge, Oikawa most of all. They’re the ones who’ve kept you safe, kept you alive all this time, and all they’ve ever asked of you is that you do what they say.

And you have. Always. Because without them, you’d be dead. You don’t have to pick up a gun and fight, because they do it for you. You don’t have to go on supply runs because they take care of it, they take care of you. And it’s never mattered whether it’s just been the five of you out there alone, or if you were banding together with other survivors; that’s never changed – no matter how many dirty looks it earned you from the others.

You are their responsibility, but in return, you do what they tell you without question.

But this–

This isn’t like that. This isn’t you begging Iwaizumi to take you with him on perimeter patrol because you’ve been cooped up for what feels like weeks, or pouting because they’re deliberately keeping things from you again.

And maybe they have kept you in the dark, but you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. The reality of this situation hasn’t escaped you.

The sanctuary’s overrun, and if – when – Iwa, Makki and Mattsun make it back, they’ll be walking into an ambush. Even if by some miracle they do manage to all make it out unscathed and somehow figure out a way to pick up your trail, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for them to find their way back to you.

(You can’t bear to think about the possibility of them not coming home; you won’t.)

Right now, it’s just you and Oikawa, stuck in some abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a rifle and a baseball bat between you. You have no food, no supplies and he’s getting weaker by the minute.

You’re terrified.

And you don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting somebody else take care of you anymore. You don’t stand a chance of survival without Oikawa, and right now he doesn’t stand a chance without you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head. “Okay, I won’t touch it, but I’m not just going to sit here and watch you get worse.” Smoothing your palms over your lap, you take a deep breath in through your nose. “There’s a prison–”

“No.”

“Tooru–”

“I said no,” he snaps.

Biting back a sigh, you try again, “Tooru, there might be supplies there,” you plead. “Painkillers, antibiotics, something that might help–”

“I don’t need antibiotics and you’re not leaving. We need to stay here where it’s safe until the others find us,” he grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Normally, this would be the point that you’d back off, running off to lick your wounds before he decided to get mean, but even as some part of you cowers at the mere thought of upsetting him, this time you don’t back down.

He watches warily as you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, gently smoothing damp brown locks back from his sweat slicked forehead. “I don’t know when Iwa’s coming back,” you murmur. “But until he does, the prison’s our best chance, if I can just–”

“No!” he snarls, cutting you off once again.

His eyes are manic now, blown wide and glazed over, he’s shivering, his breath a faint rattle – but his grip is iron, long fingers clutching at you desperately when you jerk back with a gasp.

“You don’t leave me.”

You don’t want to.

It’d be easy not to, to sit and stay with him and pretend that your world isn’t falling apart and he isn’t dying. You’ve never been a fighter, always too soft, too weak, too naive to survive out there on your own. The thought of setting one foot outside of that door without him by your side fills you with absolute terror, but what other options do you have?

He might not like it, but you’re out of time – this decision isn’t his to make anymore.

“Tooru, I-I have to, you know–”

“No!” he snaps, dragging you closer. “You’re not leaving me, I won’t fucking let you!”

Your hand trembles when you reach up to take his, easing it from your shirt and bringing it to your lips. Tears spill from your lashes, falling in heavy droplets against the back of his hand as Oikawa makes a pained sound.

“Please don’t go.”

You both know he can’t stop you.

“Keep the gun,” you tell him, mustering up a tight, watery smile. “Anything but Iwa and our boys comes through that door, shoot it.”

—

It seems a cruel, twisted joke that you find a perfectly good truck sitting a little ways up the driveway, just begging to be used – with no way of getting it started.

Mattsun always made hot wiring look so easy, tossing you a wink when the engine rumbled to life, as if it was a neat little party trick he’d pulled out just to impress you. He did it so quickly, so smoothly, ripping the wires out and sparking them like it was second nature, but he’d never bothered to actually explain what he was doing to you.

And why would he? Between the four of them, there’d always be somebody else to take care of it for you. It’s the same reason they never taught you how to shoot, never taught you how to fight beyond the very basics of self defence.

Now, trudging along the side of the barren road with nothing but your baseball bat and a canteen of water slung over your hip, you find yourself wishing you’d paid a little more attention. Ten miles hadn’t seemed that far on paper – it was less than the trek back into town and you’d figured a safer bet, but walking around in broad daylight without any kind of real protection feels like you’re begging to be preyed upon. Yet by some stroke of luck (and despite that persistent nagging sense that you’re being watched) you manage to make it to the perimeter gates without coming across another soul, dead or alive.

The towering brick walls topped with spirals of barbed wire that line the prison complex are as imposing as they are unbreachable, and for a moment, standing there staring up at them, you feel a crushing sense of disappointment. You’ve walked over two hours, left Tooru in pain and alone for nothing. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to scale those walls, and without any kind of bolt cutters or firepower, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past the front gates.

Iwa would’ve known that. Iwa would’ve been better prepared.

But as you draw closer to the guardhouse, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not a problem. The heavy wrought iron gate’s already unlocked and open, creaking in the breeze. And really, that should have been the first warning sign, but you’re too busy thanking your lucky stars as you slide on through to pay attention to things like that.

The courtyard is just as deserted. The crunch of gravel underfoot echoes too loud, setting your nerves on edge as you make your way towards the imposing structure. It’s quiet, eerily so – even the birds seem to have disappeared. Is this how all raids feel, you wonder as you climb the steps towards the door. This sense of foreboding dread that settles in your stomach, the goosebumps that prickle down your arms?

Your grip tightens around the handle of your bat and you press gingerly against the door – just like the guardhouse gate, it gives under your touch, swinging open wide. It’s dark inside; you hadn’t thought to bring a torch and with the absence of any windows lining the corridor it’s near pitch black. Your heart hammers inside your chest, every cell in your body screaming at you to turn around and run back to Tooru, but you’ve come this far already.

The undead flock to fresh, living meat. It’s been months since the outbreak began; anyone unfortunate enough to have found themselves trapped inside when it happened is probably long dead, and any of the undead likely long gone.

It’s just a little darkness.

Steeling your nerves you creep through the black, clutching tightly at your bat, toeing your way down the corridor waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim. Every breath you draw in feels too loud, every step too obnoxious. Deserted or not, the sooner you can find the med-bay, get what you need for Oikawa and get out, the better.

The layout’s simple enough – five looming multi-storied wings breaking off like fingers from the central watch-tower, but you don’t have a clue which one holds what you’re seeking. Your only option is to search them one by one and hope for the best.

You’d expected steel bars and heavy locks, but the prison reminds you strangely of a school instead; long hallways lined with doors, each with a tiny window to peek through. They’re all open now of course, whatever locking mechanism keeping them shut having failed when the generators ran out. The first few are empty, barren and stripped of everything but soiled mattresses – it should be a relief.

There’s nothing waiting for you in the darkness but empty halls and emptier rooms. If the others were here, they’d be teasing you for sure. Or Makki and Mattsun would, at least. You always were such a scared little baby – their scared little baby – you’d jump at your own shadow if you didn’t have them around.

And it’s easier to keep going imagining them there by your side, the jokes they’d crack, the warmth of Iwa’s hand in yours, or Makki’s arm slung over your shoulder. You’d feel safe with them. You wouldn’t need to feel afraid.

But no amount of pretend comfort is enough to allay the heavy sense of dread that’s sitting in your stomach, growing harder and harder to ignore with every passing minute. And the problem, you realise, with the prison being so deadly quiet is that every noise, no matter how quiet, echoes.

Climbing the stairs in the dark, you don’t notice the slickness on the walls either side of you, the red handprints smeared messily over white paint. You don’t see the broken, bloody fingernails littering the steps beneath you.

You hear it though, when you reach the landing. It’s soft. A quiet, wet squelching, ripping–

There’s no screams accompanying it like there were back when the sanctuary was overrun, but it’s not a sound you’re gonna be able to forget any time soon. In the dark you freeze, not daring to so much as breathe as you peer down the endless corridor, trying to pinpoint which of the cells it’s coming from.

In the end, you decide that it doesn’t matter.

They’re quicker when they’ve fed, stronger too, and there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to be able to fumble past in the dark without drawing that thing’s attention. The wooden bat in your hands feels heavy, your palms already slick with sweat. You weren’t quick enough back at the sanctuary; without Tooru, that thing would’ve eaten you. And suddenly it seems laughable that you came out here, that you genuinely thought you could handle this – fight one of them off if it came down to it.

Tooru needs those meds, you know that, and you might be useless and weak and absolutely paralysed with fear, but you’re not stupid. You can’t help him at all if you’re torn apart by one of those creatures.

Your pulse racing, a potent mix of adrenaline and sheer, unrelenting terror coursing through your veins, you draw in a quiet breath, slowly lifting your foot to back away. It hasn’t heard you yet, and so long as it’s distracted–

“Oi, hurry up! I know what I saw, she came in this way.”

“Jesus, just shut up for a sec, wouldja! Ya don’t need to keep yellin’ at me, I’m comin’!”

Through the grate at your feet, you see two beams of light break through the darkness, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps echoing down the wing. Icy claws tighten like a vice around your heart and you still once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen, praying…

The squelching’s stopped.

Grip tight around the handle of your bat, your entire body quaking with fear, you watch with wide, stricken eyes as one of the doors halfway down the block slowly creaks outwards.

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing, and you try and convince yourself it’s just the wind, that you’re imagining things and your mind is playing mean tricks on you–

A feral snarl rips through the air, and before you can so much as scream it’s crashing through the open doorway, head swivelling as it searches for the source of the disturbance. In the dark you can’t make out much, only that it’s huge, half its flesh torn and decaying, smeared with blood and filth – but you see it when those white, cloudy eyes fix on you, its rotting mouth bared and salivating.

And this time you do scream. You scream for Oikawa, for Iwa, for Makki and Mattsun and the faceless strangers on the floor below as you cast your bat aside and run. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you take the stairs two, three at a time, slipping and slamming into the stairwell wall, a sharp burst of pain radiating down your shoulder – you can hear it giving chase, the rabid growls and snarls too close for comfort.

Tears flood your eyes, your chest heaving with every desperate breath as your feet hit solid ground once more and you take off.

“Please!” you sob as you run, blinded by the brightness of the torch beam as it’s shone in your direction. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

You can’t outrun it forever. Even now, you hear it gaining on you, its hot, foul breath puffing against your back – it’s just like back at the sanctuary. It’s gonna catch you, rip into you and feast while you choke to death on your own blood and screams, and this time you won’t have Oikawa here to save you. You’re going to die in agony, torn apart and devoured, and it’s all your own stupid fault.

Your throat tightens, more tears springing free. You can’t see anything beyond those two blinding lights, moving now, dancing across the field of your vision. “PLEASE!” you shriek, desperate and hoarse as the undead creature behind you readies itself to pounce.

Please don’t leave me here to die.

And for one heart wrenching second, you think back to your boys, and the words they’d said before kissing you goodbye. Everybody else first. Maybe this is some kind of divine retribution, you think. Maybe when the world went to hell people became cold and selfish and you deserve this for sitting back and letting others die in your place.

“Get down!” the voice yells, and you don’t even stop to think before you drop, sliding across the floor. There’s another blinding flash, a shot fired into the dark and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hug your knees to your chest as the creature snarls in anger and jerks backwards, a gruesome spurt of blood spraying over you.

“Ya fucking missed! How could ya fucking miss?!”

The gun cocks and reloads, another deafening shot ringing out above you and you flinch, your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm–

But this time the bullet hits its mark. The creature crashes to the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t move again.

You don’t waste a second scrambling to your feet, launching yourself into the arms of your saviour. You don’t care that you’re crying, that you’re covered in blood and filth and god knows what else, you cling to him like he’s a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. And instead of pushing you away like he probably should, he lets out a short huff that sounds almost like a laugh, his arm curling around your waist.

“I’m the one who shot the damn thing,” the other mutters sourly.

The man holding you snorts, “Nah, yer the idiot who missed.” Belatedly, you realise that he’s still gripping his gun, the brightness you’d assumed to have come from a torch actually from a light mounted to the barrel. He slings the rifle carelessly over his shoulder, drawing back slightly to appraise you. “Now, wanna tell me what a sweet thing like you’s doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

With your eyes now adjusting to the light, you can see that the two of them can’t be much older than you. They’re both tall, broad shouldered and handsome, the same jawline, the same slope to their nose, nearly identical hooded eyes – brothers you decide, maybe even twins. And they’re both smirking at you, not with the relief of just barely escaping a brush with a particularly gruesome death, but with an odd sort of lackadaisical amusement, as if this – skulking through dark, abandoned places, killing the undead – is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

And from the ease with which they carry their weapons, maybe it isn’t.

Oikawa warned you about men like them. Men in general, really. Even the ones who smiled at you back at the sanctuary, the ones who offered to help you move heavy supplies when they saw you struggling – at least, until Iwa or one of the others stepped in with a poisonous glare. Anyone who wasn’t them was dangerous, a threat, just waiting in the wings to take advantage of a pretty, dumb little thing like you.

And maybe he’s right, but when the one holding you instead drags you closer, wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins to lead you back towards the guard tower as his brother falls into step on your other side, you don’t shrug him off.

Oikawa isn’t here, and they have just saved your life. That has to count for something, right?

“I-I thought it’d be safe,” you confess breathlessly, trying not to focus on the thumb sweeping over the curve of your shoulder. “Well, empty at least. I didn’t have a choice.” And they listen, sharing glances in the dark as you tell them about what’d happened at the sanctuary, about Oikawa and the desperation that’d led you to leave him and walk miles alone to try and find some kind of medicine–

Until a snicker interrupts you. “Sorry,” the blonde mutters, though he doesn’t look all that sincere when your eyes flash to his. “It’s just…”

“Anythin’ worth taking woulda been snatched up months ago,” the darker haired one interjects.

“There ain’t nothin’ here but the occasional idiot tryna set up camp an’… Well, ya saw how well that turned out.”

It hits you like a gut punch, forcing the air from your lungs in a harsh, gasping breath. There was never anything here, everything… all of it was a waste. You came all this way, left him feverish and screaming himself hoarse for you, risked your life, almost died and–

It was all for nothing.

Fresh tears sting at your eyes, they’re still talking but it’s just white noise washing over you. You don’t even realise they’re leading you back outside until you’re walking through the doors, the sudden burst of sunlight making you flinch. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

You’re an idiot.

A naive, dumb little girl who was stupid enough to think this half cocked plan was gonna work. That you would make it back to Tooru in one piece, medicine in hand to save the day and prove you weren’t the helpless damsel they’d pegged you for.

You’ve wasted so much time, for nothing.

There’s no drugs, no food, nothing that’s gonna help either one of you make it through the next few days and suddenly you’re drowning under a wave of hopelessness and bitter disappointment. You fall to your knees in the dirt, taking both your saviours by surprise, and let out a painful, heart wrenching sob. And once you start, you can’t seem to stop. It’s overwhelming, every emotion you’ve bottled up and shoved aside over the last two days suddenly forced into the light. You cry for yourself, for Tooru – for Iwa and Makki and Mattsun. You cry until it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, and then there’s rough calloused fingers brushing your tears away.

You look up through wet lashes to find the dark-haired man crouching before you, his expression sober. “Ya don’t need to cry, sweetheart, we’re not monsters y’know.”

His brother chuckles behind you, “We’re not about to leave some pretty little thing all alone out here to starve to death.” His hand’s resting atop your head now, smoothing down the hair at your crown. It’s soft and soothing, and you’re so attuned to seeking comfort that you can’t help but lean into it, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “We’ve got some friends nearby, a nice little hideaway stocked full of all kinds of shit. Everything ya could possibly need.”

“Y-you mean it?” you ask, wide eyes flickering to the dark haired one, who smiles at last. “You’ll share them with me?”

“‘Course we do. Meds, food, weapons. Whatever ya want, it’s yours.”

You take the hand he offers to help you stand, your limbs trembling once more – but this time it’s not from fear or exhaustion, but the overwhelming rush of sheer relief. You could kiss him, kiss them both, but you don’t.

Instead you settle for throwing your arms around them once more, breathless thanks falling from your lips faster than they can catch as you hug them tight. They don’t seem to mind though, sharing almost identical smirks as the three of you head out to an old, beat up camaro parked out by the entrance to the prison. While the blonde slides in the driver’s seat and his brother takes the passenger’s side, you climb up into the back seat.

“Is it far?” you ask as he kicks the car into gear and peels out onto the deserted road. Hopefully it’s not, the sooner you can get back to help Tooru the better.

“Nah, not too far. We’ll be home before ya know it.”

Of course, they’re driving you to their friends, but they haven’t promised anything about driving you back to the cottage and Oikawa–

Which is perfectly fine! You’re not going to push your luck, they’re already doing plenty for you. More than they really have to. You don’t even need that much – just some medicine for Tooru and enough food for the two of you to get through the next few days, and you’ll be fine. Whatever you can carry, which, admittedly isn’t much. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it back to him before nightfall.

Things are gonna be fine. You’ll bring the medicine and once he’s better, the two you can head out to find the others. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll be better when you’re all back together, the way things were meant to be.

You need them, if anything this little venture’s proven that much at least.

They’d promised that it wasn’t far, and maybe it’s just the exhaustion of the last few days creeping in, or the gentle hum of the engine as the car drives along the long, narrow stretch of road, but your eyelids start to droop, your breath evening out as sleep beckons.

And you’re just dancing on the edge of consciousness when a hushed voice breaks through the comfortable silence, dark eyes flickering up to watch your slumbering form in the rearview mirror. “Ya think Kita’ll be pissed?”

There’s a snort, “Nah. He’s always had a soft spot for strays, ‘specially the pretty ones.” He’s quiet for a moment, almost contemplative before he opens his mouth to add, “‘Sides, we’re gonna take real good care of her, ain’t we, Samu?”

The only reply he gives is a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere matsukawa x reader #yandere hanamaki x reader #tw blood #tw gore #angst #toxic relationships #i honestly do not know how to tag this #at this point it's practically sfw #if you ignore all the blood and injuries and zombie stuff

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hollyhomburg · 4 years ago

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(Tw: accident, ptsd, soulmate au) I just thought of a really cute soulmate au- kinda going along with the theme of calamity in our daily lives. The m/c and yoongi both have the soulmate system of “your mark will apear once you’ve touched your soulmate for the first time- and it will be the same mark”

The day you meet, it’s normal if not for the pleasant forboding that comes with a day that’s going to be bad and good all at once. She crashes into yoongi on a crowded street in the middle of February, the button on his jacket gets tangled with one of her necklaces, and pops it clean off. They banter, and she picks up the button and puts it into his pocket, and before he can think any better, he asks her to a cup of coffee and a walk along the river.

They talk, he picks the clovers and she puts them in his coat pocket too, “what is this like a reverse pit pocketing situation?” He laughs, and gives you the button. It’s nearing the afternoon and really you both need to go on your separate ways but “do you mind if I walk you to the train station?” “Not at all stranger” it’s been hours and you still haven’t exchanged your names. Like a joke, yoongi only pauses to ask her before she reaches the gates- the platform below.

I have this vivid image of her standing there just before- yoongi asking “I know this might be a bit much- but would you like too-“ the train is so loud he has to raise his voice- so loud, are trains usually this loud? a sound and a boom below, the world rumbling and the smoke bulliowing out, of the doors and people screaming. a train crash that unseats your day- a day that should have been a happy one. Yoongi catches you as you stumble.

you and yoongi head down through the crowd. Yoongi finds an old woman struggling to get up the steps, her Cane fallen. and the next moment- youre slipping down the steps your hand sliding from us as you go to help anyone that can’t get up the stairs with the escalators and elevators disabled. and he’s carrying her up, stopping to help her climb onto his back.

He looks and looks but in the craziness of the accident he looses track of you. The news casters are there- so are fireman and police man and yoongi is the only famous face, it takes 10 minutes before yoongi gets recognized and then more- when his phone blows up from his friends and family making sure he’s okay. Namjoon texts in their group chat along with a flurry of others “let us know you’re okay or elce were going to march down there ourselves”

It makes quite the headline- the idol that saved the grandmother (and two others- but really he dosent think helping a pair of siblings- two elementary school students on their way home from school, and yoongi didn’t do anything but sit with them until their parents found them). But regardless of the reporters and policeman desperate to get a statement- yoongi finds himself only searching through the crowd to you, finding you nowhere- and he hopes- hopes you wherent hurt, or that you’re not still down there- that you might have gotten trapped by the smoke.

Yoongi asks and lingers as long as he could before a company car is there to pick him up. And it’s only when he gets home and takes off his soot stained jacket with the missing button and finds it, a red circle on his inner arm- the mark that tells him today he met his soulmate, inside the circle a tiny clover. Same as the ones you’d put in his pocket, now crushed and wilting.

Yoongi puts it in a jar and sobs until his lungs feel raw. only tells the others why when they beg to know, seokjins firm hand on his shoulder, jimins arms around his waist. Namjoon by the door- his fresh soulmate mark showed off- a marvel that hoseok thumbs. Reason comes in the form of Kim taehyung- and thank god for him- for his steadiness.

“She probably didn’t die, there where only a few fatalities yoongi, and we know all the names- why don’t we go through their faces again.” Jungkook sits with him again and again to go through them and reassure him that- that his soulmate isn’t dead. But still sometimes yoongi wakes up. His therapist calls it ptsd, takes him through complicated sessions and prescribes him medication that makes his head spin until he stops taking them.

Yoongi gets used to living again, takes walks without being afraid of every loud noise, and though he never quiet manages to take the train again he does go on national television a few weeks after the accident. Someone tries to give him a Medal of Honor and he refuses- saying that anyone would have gone inside. the real hero’s he tells the camera, are the fire fighters and medics.

He definitly does not mention meeting his soulmate that day, even if it probably is his best chance of being reunited with you again is a public announcement like this. it feels too private to confess like this. And he knows news of this would only send their fans into a tizzy trying to figure out his soulmate mark and recreate it on themselves.

It happens just as the first day had, yoongi is just walking back from a takeout place container in his hands. It’s summer- and hed be wearing short sleeves if it wasn’t for the damned mark on his arm. when he spots something- glimmering and out of place on the sidewalk.

he stoops down to pick up the chain- blinking in disbelief as he sees it- a familiar button on the end of a chain. He hears the foot steps then- thudding against the concrete as you look wildly- the face of someone whose lost something special to them. he could never forget the face of his soulmate no matter how many months it’s been- never.

Your eyes meet his across the street and it’s like that day all Over again. Yoongi dosent know why his eyes are wet when you walk up to him. The first thing that comes to mind a question. Not what he wants to say- not I’ve been looking everywhere for you, please just tell me your god damn name, and even more- I think if I don’t stay next to you if I let you out of my sight again that you’ll disappear from view forever.

No what he says is: “You kept it.”

“of course I did”

and of course they sit down and talk about what happened the day of the accident- how she ended up on the other side of the street and the entrance after helping another woman carry her stroller up the stairs. How you’d hit your head near the top and needed to be taken to the hospital for stitches, the scar that lights just on the edge of your hairline- a small thing really- any less bad and you wouldn’t have gone and yoongi never would have lost you.

“You saved me that day you know? If I hadn’t had you to talk to on the platform- then I would have been down on that track when the train derailed” yoongi humms and holds you closer, where you lie- his takeout forgotten in the grass- the same place you met before. You’ve come back to him- that button keeping you togeather when even fate couldn’t, if you’d never dropped it- then who knows how long it would have taken to find you. he dosent want to think about that. “What are soulmates for?”

You both get better, talk through your ptsd. And with you yoongi finds something that every therapist and diagnosis had been lacking. You grip his hand tightly and let him know you’re there with every loud noise. And every time he gets twitchy or overstimulated in public you lead him quietly away or if you can’t- you find little things to point out to him- grounding him against the panic in his head.

And many days when yoongi kisses you on your doorstep and ends up late for work- he’ll plunge his hand into his pocket and find small things, a sweet- a more, sometimes- a spare button. And he always texts you back a selfie and “this reverse pitpocketing has got to stop”

That night and many nights after, Yoongi Thanks fate for badly attached buttons, clover, natural disasters, and everything that’s brought you to him.

#bts #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts soulmate au

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divinerulerluvr · 4 years ago

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Suspicious pt. 2

An AU where Colin Zabel is the bad guy.

No Warnings

Pairing - Colin Zabel x reader

Words - 1.3k

A/N - Per request, i wrote a part 2. Like, high request. I didn't think part 1 was good but i got a lot of people who wanted a second part so i guess here it is

Read part 1 here

- - -

It had been two weeks and, once again, there was a murder.

You were afraid that somehow, Colin would make you his scapegoat. Maybe he was done with being nice and decided to plant fake evidence in your car or something to get you arrested for the murders.

Everything had you paranoid. Every noise, every person. You were constantly on edge and it was slowly killing you.

And with Colin being a detective, he had access to damn near anything. With the internet, everything was available. Part of you was very wary about the man. You couldn’t trust him at all. He was a murderer and a good one, at that.

You had gotten a text one night from an unknown number telling you to meet him at the police station. You knew who it was. Who else would it be?

Afraid to disobey, you head to the station.

The front door was unlocked and you walk in, finding the only light that remained on in Colin’s office. Nervously, you walk into his office. He sits behind his desk, his eyes focused on the phone in his hands.

“Y/n,” he says, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “I need your help,”

“With what?” you ask, standing in the doorway of his office, afraid to walk in further. He looks up at you, turning his phone off and setting it on the desk. “I need a scapegoat and you’re gonna give me one,” he says simply.

His words make your heart sink further. He wanted you to give him an innocent person to blame his killing on?

He stares at you, your silence irritating him. “I could just make you my scapegoat if you don’t talk. It’s up to you,” he shrugs, standing from his seat and walking around the desk. You fight the urge to step back in response, keeping your feet planted.

“Why do you want a scapegoat now?”

“To put the town at ease. Once I get a scapegoat, I’m leaving. This place is... Sad,” he says, his eyes scanning the room around him.

“I can’t do that,” you say, your eyes following his as he steps closer and closer to you. “Listen to me, for fucks sake,” he warns lowly, making you swallow thickly. “It’s either you go to jail for four murders, or some person you despise goes to jail. Pick your poison, sweetheart,”

“It’s selfish,”

“Aren’t we all selfish?” he replies simply, now just inches from you. “And plus, you wouldn’t think it was selfish when you rot in prison. Don’t you have someone you hate? Someone you’d love to see rot?”

You just shake your head. Colin scoffs, not buying it for a second. “Nobody’s perfect,” he says, his voice lowered just above a whisper. “Especially… you,”

“What?” you ask, confused at his insinuation. He smiles, walking back over to his desk. “You have a record,” he states. You just shake your head, internally panicking. “No, I don’t,” you deny, trying to seem calm.

“You did, at least. You got it expunged. Isn’t that right?” he says, glancing up at you as he leans against his desk. “Looks like you were… driving drunk while underage. That’s like, two crimes all in one,” he sucks in sharply through his teeth shaking his head in a condescending manner. “That’s not good,”

You had nothing to say, so you just competed in his stare-off. His hands tucked deep into his pockets, he sighs heavily. “I’m gonna need a name, Y/n,” he orders, his words soft yet demanding. Your life depends on this.

Staying silent, you ran through the list of people who did you wrong throughout the past years. There was nobody who you’d want to send to jail. Well, except one guy.

“Mark Youens,” you say.

Colin smiles. “Good choice, doll. That one girl’s husband. He’s the perfect culprit,” Colin praises coldly, his words sincere but the context of them making you sick. “You mean Daisy,” you interrupt. Colin looks up at you, his eyebrow arched in question.

“‘That One Girl’ has a name,” you clarify. He just nods boredly, walking around the desk and writing the name you gave him down.

“You just gonna stare at me?” he asks, noticing how your gaze remained on him. You snap out of your daze, your eyes moving to the desk he stood behind. “Come here,” he says, his instruction making you scared.

Were you going to be his last kill?

You walk up to his desk, the wood separating the two of you and creating a safe distance. Colin leans on the desk, extending his hand. You flinch at the movement, afraid he was going to do something more than just graze his fingers down your cheek.

Colin chuckles, his eyes locked on yours. “You know, if I wasn’t blackmailing you, I would ask you on a date,” he comments. You display no reaction, his hand still petting your cheek affectionately.

“I wouldn’t say yes,” you bite back. He smiles, dropping his hand from your cheek. “I don’t believe you,” he shrugs.

“Cocky much?”

He shrugs, walking away from the desk and grabbing his coat from the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eight a.m sharp. Got it?” he says.

“Fine,” you agree monotonously.

At eight a.m sharp the next morning, you meet Colin at the address he had sent you. You ended up at a local park filled with people. You saw Mare and a few other police on the small stage, a microphone and most importantly, Colin.

A loud sound echoes through the speaker as Mare taps the microphone in front of her. “We are pleased to announce the killer has been caught and is in jail. Hopefully, this will serve as some justice for all the chaos recently and put you guys at ease,” Mare announces to the people who gather before her.

Colin had brought you to some sort of town meeting about the killer being caught. “A special thank you to Detective Colin Zabel for investigating and thank you to Y/n Y/l/n for giving us the tip to find the man responsible,”

You felt your heart freeze at Mare’s word. Colin, who stood beside Mare, smiles widely as she says your name. You knew he had gotten her to say it just for kicks.

The crowd claps and you just glare at Colin who winks at you. This was all a part of his plan and you had somehow fallen directly into his sticky trap.

Slowly, the crowd disperses and you got a moment alone with Colin. You hit his arm and he turns to face you, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “You fucked me over, Zabel,” you whisper angrily, making sure nobody was around.

“How exactly? I saved your ass from being the scapegoat--”

“I saved my own ass from being the scapegoat. You were the one blackmailing me,”

He chuckles, glancing around the area as he crosses his arms. “You’re smart, Y/n,” he says, the compliment throwing you off. “I kinda have to be because of assholes like you,” you retort snappily, exhaling heavily.

“I thought you said you’d be leaving,” you add on, calming yourself. He shrugs, running his tongue over his lips. “Eh. Mare offered me a more permanent job here. Maybe Easttown isn’t so bad,” he says, taking pleasure in your disappointed reaction.

“Don’t look too excited, now,” he jokes sarcastically but you don’t react. “I’ll see you around, doll face. Maybe now that all this murder shit is over, I can take you to dinner,”

“You’re fucking delusional, Colin,” you reply.

He shrugs, a charming smile pulling on his lips as somebody walks by the two of you. “Probably. See you around, Y/n,” he says, patting your arm before walking past you, leaving you like he always did.

And of course, he had the last word.

#evan peters #mare of easttown #colin zabel #part 2 #angst #colin zabel x reader #kinda short #sorry #tate langdon #kai anderson

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themangolorian · 3 years ago

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ketterdam unsolved

For @kanejweek Day 3: Adventure (robbery & piracy, outer space)

Pairing: Kaz x Inej

Warnings: for some explicit language

Summary: (modern au) ketterdam’s version of buzzfeed unsolved (not what i expected when i started out) but you don’t have to watch bfu to get it, it’s just a modern ghost hunting au with a twist

“If this is going to work, then Kaz needs to be the skeptic and Inej the believer.” Wylan kept saying in various reiterations without ever explaining why.

“This isn’t going to work.” Jasper repeated.

“Shouldn’t that be Kaz’s line?” Inej smiled dazzlingly his way.

“Wylan is right.” Kaz finally spoke, his voice unwavering rough stone.

Silence fell over the room. They’d been bickering over the roles for several minutes and Kaz had kept his peace until now.

“Even if he doesn’t know why.” Kaz continued, effectively erasing the satisfied smile from Wylan’s face.

Jesper stuck his tongue out at Wylan in retaliation, but Wylan actively ignored him.

“Jesper, you’ll be manning the camera.” Kaz said, then, a moment later: “What was that?”

“Nothing, boss,” Jesper shot back enthusiastically, though they’d all clearly heard him mutter a second ago: “You’ll regret that when you see the footage.”

Kaz nodded in satisfaction. It wasn’t that they didn’t all rile him up intentionally once in awhile; it was that you didn’t do it during a job.

After all, if they were going to steal the Lantsov Emerald from a high tech security vault inside of an allegedly haunted castle while playing at being amateur television personality ghost hunters, they were going to need full concentration throttles ahead.

“What about me?” Nina pouted.

“You, my dear,” replied Kaz liltingly, holding up a skimpy yet utterly expensive looking gown, “are tonight’s distraction.”

Nina grinned devilishly, but Matthias only groaned.

“Let’s get to work.” Kaz murmured.

*******

Later, on the set Wylan and Jesper had constructed to look like some old timey investigator’s office, Inej studied the hastily thrown together script with wrinkled nose.

“This dialogue is terrible.”

“Oi.” Wylan feigned hurt surprisingly well.

“It’ll have to do,” Kaz agreed without actually agreeing from where he sat behind the desk at her side.

“This week on Ketterdam Unsolved, we dive deep into the mystery of the Haunted Castle of Ravka,” Inej tried but failed to say without cringing.

Kaz’s lips twitched. “The most awful part about it all is that they’re going to fall for it.”

Inej glanced his way slyly. “Oh yes, truly horrible.”

Kaz focused for just a second too long on that smile before forcing his gaze back to the script.

Jesper zoomed out of the shot. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

********

The castle’s wide open hallways were cold and foreboding, and Inej found herself shivering from more than just the temperature. For all her skepticism about the script, she might be the only one of them other than Matthias who truly believed the castle was haunted.

Glancing past where Matthias stood guard (she didn’t know how Kaz had managed to accomplish that one - stand in security guard for a nationally recognized security company seemed even beyond his capabilities), the thought did little to comfort her.

Knowing she was being stupid, she still felt like eyes were watching her. Kaz, of course, noticed instantly and used it decidedly for their sham of a show.

“Don’t mind my friend here,” Kaz said in that awful voice she barely recognized, “she’s just positive we’re going to be murdered here tonight.” Kaz laughed into the camera Jesper was pointing at them. He sounded like a total idiot.

Inej stared at Kaz, hoping she was conveying the proper amount of derision.

“Everyone loves to taunt ghosts, until they’re being haunted by them.” Inej said as much for Kaz’s benefit as for the camera’s and that of the bemused tour guide showing them around before leaving them to their antics for the night. If only he would just leave already...

Kaz only laughed mockingly back, which riled Inej up even more. But she knew her lines.

“Keep it up, big guy, and see what tonight has in store for you.” She managed to say, this time without wincing.

The tour guide began leading them to the rooms where they had been instructed to keep to during their overnight ghostly vigil but failed to notice the way their eyes were memorizing every layout, every window, every door.

*******

When they had finally been left alone, charmed out of the castle as the tour guide had been by Nina’s wiles, Inej let out a deep frustrated breath.

What had seemed to be an interminable smile fell from Kaz’s face.

“Jesper, you take the east wing. Wylan will be waiting at the gate. Don’t alert the guards, but Matthias is on stand by if you do.”

Kaz didn’t have to say a word. Inej knew to follow him just by the look in his eye.

“Did you see the way the guide kept glancing at the door to the main study?” But Inej knew she didn’t have to ask.

“I’m betting that’s our target.” Kaz agreed, leaning lightly on the walking stick he had swapped out for his usually more dramatic cane. For the “aesthetic,” Jesper had said.

Inej didn’t bother to ask why Kaz had sent Jesper and Wylan in another direction. Kaz always had his reasons.

“It’s likely a pressurized vault.” Inej muttered, thinking carefully on what they had learned on their tour.

Kaz fished something out of his pocket and Inej’s eyes went wide. Then she smiled, taking the hefty false emerald out of his palm. “Our friend, Mark.” She laughed.

“Exactly.” Kaz didn’t smile but the twist of his lips was unmistakable. He was pleased with her reaction.

He was not so pleased when they reached the outer chamber of the vault. Inej had never seen such high tech locking mechanisms. There was no way they were getting in.

“What now, big guy?” Inej tried for levity but Kaz’s face wad screwed up tight. He was-

“Scheming face.” Jesper let out a low whistle, sidling through the door behind them.

“Definitely.” Inej shot back, watching Kaz take apart the puzzle that was invisible to the rest of them.

*****

The break-in to the vault had taken them the better part of the night. Finally, just before dawn, they had retired back to the window lined room and their sleeping bags to await the arrival of the tour guide who would check them out of the castle.

Wylan had fallen immediately into a deep slumber and was snoring across the room next to Jesper who was fiddling with the video camera, but Kaz was still too pumped full of adrenaline with their success. He could feel the hefty weight of the emerald in the inner lining of his jacket where it could not be detected even if they were searched.

He gazed fondly, if with a blank expression, over the room full of his crew. Then- his eyes found Inej.

****

“It’s a murder well.” Kaz was crowing enthusiastically to the camera, his voice an overexacting exaggeration.

Kaz raised one eyebrow at the TV as he walked into their crowded headquarters. Jesper, Wylan, Inej, Nina and Matthias were laying haphazardly across the too small sofa watching the footage Jesper had captured just a few nights ago.

“Holy shit, dude, this is how they murked traitors back then.” The on-screen Inej babbled while the in-person Inej groaned and covered her face.

“Shh, this is my favorite part,” Jesper exclaimed, tossing a handful of popcorn kernels her way.

“Oi.” Inej barked, beginning to tussle over the popcorn bowl as on-screen Kaz and Inej laughed a little too hysterically at some scripted joke.

“What business?” Kaz leaned on his cane as they call came slightly to attention before relaxing again.

“Just enjoying the fruits of our labor, Dirtyhands,” Nina laughed joyously as she popped what Kaz knew to be very expensive gourmet chocolates between her lips while ignoring Matthias’ longing glance.

Inej extricated herself from the pile of limbs of their friends to join Kaz behind the sofa. She was grinning wildly and bouncing on the toes of her feet. “So?” She seemed even more excited at the prospect of CEO Rollins’ downfall than Kaz was.

Kaz nodded his head curtly and Inej beamed. Kaz got the distinct sense that Inej wanted to launch herself at him and was disconcerted to realize he quite hoped she would follow through when-

“Awwww,” Nina was exclaiming in a loud sweet voice.

Both Kaz and Inej looked up at the same moment at the TV screen to see Inej as she had been the morning after their heist, in the castle, sitting on a window ledge with her eyes closed letting the sun bathe her in warmth and light.

Something was wrong. There had been no filming... There shouldn’t have been any filming then. The camera began to pan out and Kaz took a stilting step forward, though by then he knew it was too late to stop what was about to happen.

The room went still. Even Jesper had stopped his constant squirming. That early morning, Kaz had been sitting on the floor just diagonally to Inej. He remembered the exact second his eyes had landed on Inej then, the way his breath had quite literally trapped itself in his throat. He remembered possibly even better now as he watched himself on screen, past him watching past her with something akin to absolute enthrallment on his face.

No one moved except for Inej who Kaz could see, from the corner of his eye, looking from the screen to him. He could almost make out the disbelief and - was that joy? He wanted to believe that was joy - on her face.

Suddenly the camera on screen was being whipped around and Jesper’s face was filling up the entire screen.

“Told ya you would regret putting me on camera, boss.”

The screen went black.

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fific7 · 4 years ago

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Dangerous and Divine - Part 10

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 In case you hadn’t guessed, this is my ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. A little voyeurism. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

You realised you must look like a fish, your mouth had dropped open in a big O. No sound came out of it though, as your brain had frozen solid when you’d heard Billy’s words.

He looked at you, worried frown on his face, “I know! I know what you’re gonna say. It’s too fast. I think it’s too fast too! - but I can’t help how I feel. It’s like I’ve run into a wall or something. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Wanna be with you all the time. Wanna make love to you all the time.”

You scratched the bristly hairs under his chin, running your fingers through them and into those on his neck. Still trying to think of what to say.

“Uh, I...” you stuttered, thinking ‘good start, “...Billy, I really like you. I’m enjoying being with you, and I’ve definitely got feelings for you. Already. And it scares the living shit out of me too. Not sure exactly what they are just yet,” you smiled at him, and were relieved to see him smile back. “But, yeah, I think I’ll hang around so I can find out. If that’s OK with you.”

He was still smiling, and leaned over to kiss you softly. “That’s more than OK with me. We can both be scared together.” Your arms went round his neck, your lips dotting little kisses onto his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Yeah - let’s do that.” His eyes were still closed and a happy little smile had appeared on his face.

Oh, and Billy?” Dark eyes opened slowly and looked at you, “You know how we didn’t use a condom?” A tiny little frown on his brow, “Yeah?” “There won’t be any mini-Russo’s running around, don’t worry. I’m on birth control.” He chuckled, “Okay, I suppose that’s good to know. Wouldn’t have been a problem if it did happen, though.” You burst out laughing, “Really? Not a problem for you, so you say, but have you thought about how it might’ve been a problem for me?”

He sat up a bit, “Well... no I guess I didn’t. Would it be that much of bad thing?” You lay down and stared up at the ceiling. After a moment or two of silence, you hummed and said, “Well, having kids is not in my immediate life plan, but I’m not ruling it out.” Billy perched his chin on your shoulder, and you turned your head to meet those deep dark eyes again. He grinned, “Okay, I hear you. Guess it’s not in my plans right now either. But I have to say, we’d make beautiful babies.”

You smiled, “Maybe... but you still aren’t getting me pregnant and locking me in the kitchen!”

Billy had just laughed, giving you more of the puppydog eyes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After Billy had finally enjoyed a very pleasurable joint shower the next morning - he’d been fantasising about that ever since that time she’d locked him out of her bathroom - he’d dropped her at the Chelsea café before heading out to Anvil. He had a huge smile on his face as he thought back to the two of you playing around under the warm water of her rainfall shower, having immense fun and indulging each other with erotic pleasures.

But then his smile faded a little bit. His mind had moved on and was now playing over their conversation from the previous evening. Should he have told her how he felt? Not that he’d meant to, to be honest, but his sex-drowsy brain and loved-up mindset had let his mouth just blurt it out. It wasn’t like he was lying or anything, he’d just not planned for it to happen that way or at that particular time. She hadn’t said she was in love with him, but he was very pleased that she’d actually admitted she had feelings for him, which was good enough for him for the time being.

He was making his second cup of coffee by the time Frank arrived, so made him one too. The two buddies lounged back in their chairs, sipping at their caffeine hits, and Billy started catching Frank up with the dramas of the previous day, who listened with an increasingly amazed look on his face.

When Billy got to the bit about Madani’s visit to Anvil and what she’d done as soon as she arrived, Frank swore out loud and said angrily that he shouldn’t leave it like that, he should report her. Billy sighed, “Now’s not the time, Frankie. My girl’s got the right idea, she wants to wait till the case is done and then we’ll see. Madani’s crazy mad enough right now without us stirrin’ up more trouble for her.”

Frank grumbled, “Even more unhappy havin’ to work with her now. She’s a loose cannon.”

Billy shrugged, “You know we don’t have a choice, Frankie. And it was my dumb idea to lead her on in the first place.” He looked over at him, “This hotel meet tomorrow should bring this whole fuckin’ thing to a close.”

Their case was coming to a head. There had been shady goings-on back in Afghanistan when the two friends had been in the Marines, involving black ops and drug-smuggling which had led to Madani’s then-partner getting killed, and Billy getting his Anvil funding from CIA bad guy Rawlins. He was dead now too. And Madani was determined to get his remaining accomplices, one way or another. Homeland was using an undercover agent to lure them into a trap with the promise of selling them video and phone tap evidence, and Homeland had agreed to work jointly with Anvil on it.

Frank and Billy had insider knowledge which was crucial to keeping the undercover agent safe from discovery. They were originally arrested after the gun battle which ended Rawlins’ life because Anvil had muscled in on the confrontation between him and Homeland, and Frank had killed Rawlins in the course of it. Once the remaining two accomplices were under arrest - tomorrow hopefully - Homeland had promised Billy and Frank that all pending charges against them would be dropped.

Frank frowned, looking like a huge irate teddy bear, “It better,” he said darkly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were immersed in paperwork, but your mind kept wandering. It was a busy little bee. All the stuff that had happened yesterday... it was a lot to take in. Madani’s two visits to you, her full-on assault of Billy, and then... Billy and what he’d said. Yeah, those three little words.

You could tell by his eyes when he’d said it that he’d surprised himself. At least he was as scared as you were. Did you love him? Really not sure. You definitely had feelings for him, that was for damn sure. When Madani had told you she was seeing Billy, you could have cheerfully murdered her. And again, when Billy told you what she’d done to him.

He’d told you this morning that in all honesty, if you hadn’t been in his life, his prior persona would have just let her carry on with it. You’d appreciated that he was being completely truthful with you, about that and also about stopping her in her tracks. He’d actually seemed quite shocked about how she’d behaved. And really not looking forward to seeing her again.

But he’d also told you that the case should be coming to a close tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait for it to be done and dusted. He also said he had a surprise for you which he’d tell you about tonight.

A smile crept onto your lips as you thought about seeing him that night. He was going to pick you up at your place and then head over to his, as he was cooking you dinner this time.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was flitting around his kitchen area, tea towel over his shoulder, wooden spoon in hand, picking up and moving pots and pans around his cooker, and basically just being a domestic god.

You were sipping wine, sitting at his kitchen table and watching this vision unfold in front of you, as you’d been told that you weren’t allowed to help. He looked edible, never mind the food - which smelt delicious. Billy was making pasta with meatballs in a tomato sauce, joking that it wasn’t quite as fancy as the lunch you’d made for him. And he’d also sliced fresh crusty bread with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar alongside for dipping.

“How’d it go with Mizzzz Madani today?” you asked, drawing out the “Ms” mockingly, dying to know what had happened. You could hear his sigh from where you were sitting. He looked over his shoulder at you, running a hand through his hair and frowning as he did, “Uhhhh... how can I put it? Really. Fuckin’. Awkward.”

He turned back to the food steaming away on the cooker top, continuing, “She just literally glared at me for the whole briefing. Like if she’d had knives with her, they’d all be stuck in me right now. Didn’t speak a word to me the whole time.”

“You know, Billy - that really fuckin’ annoys me! She’s the one who created the whole situation.”

Again a sigh, “Well, like I said to Frankie before the meeting, it was my dumb ass that thought leadin’ her on was a good way of getting her to keep us in the loop.”

“Yeah, you’re right but listen, she escalated this beyond reason when she stalked me and jumped you! You know what, Billy, once this is done and you and Frank are free and clear, I’m going after her ass.”

Billy started dishing up, chuckling as he did so, “That’s my girl!” “Billy, I reckon she thought I’d crumble when she marched into my café with her power dressing and big shiny badge. She picked the wrong person to piss off!” Strolling across to the table, Billy put the two plates of food down along with the cutlery, leant in and kissed you long and slow. “Mmmm,” he grinned, “yeah, she really did!”

His eyes softened, and he whispered, “I love you.” “Oh Billy,” you whispered back, and kissed him. Then you drew back, looking down at your dinner, “This looks and smells amazing!” “Stop changing the subject,” he grinned, sitting down and starting to eat. “Now that I told you, I’m just gonna keep saying it to you, and one time you might say it back to me!” You stroked his jaw, dragging your fingers through his beard, “You big sap.” He nodded, “Uhuh.”

“Now, tomorrow...” he continued, “...we’re finishing this thing. Can’t tell you details, but we’re gonna be based in one of the big hotels downtown. I’ve booked a room. Can you bunk off work to spend some time with your boyfriend? Sexy times in a fancy hotel room before he goes on his mission... and afterwards?”

You smirked, “Might do. If he makes it worth my while.” Bigger smirk from him, “He will, you can bank on it.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had dropped you home after dinner; he had to head back to Anvil as he, Frank and their team needed to get prepped for the next day. You felt quite giddy when you realised he’d taken time out just to make you dinner. Maybe you did love this guy!

You texted Jake & Jen to say you’d decided to take the next day off, but they could of course get in touch with you if need be.

Jake: No problem, have a great day off 😌

Jen: Lucky you!!!! 😉🥵

You laughed at Jen’s reply, cheeky woman! She’d guessed exactly what you’d be up to on your day off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Packing an overnight bag after you’d showered and dressed very early the next morning, you made sure to include some pretty lingerie. Billy was in for a treat.

Speak of the devil. Your phone chimed with a new text.

Your Boyfriend: I’m outside your place, my angel 😘

You: Do you have to be on time, all the time? 🙄😌

Your Boyfriend: Ex-Marine, darling 🥷😉😘

You: OK big boy, I’ll be down in 5 😘

Your Boyfriend: 🍒🍆😈

Twenty minutes later, you were driven into the hotel’s underground carpark in Billy’s SUV (no Wraith today!) and he asked you to wait in the car until he came back for you. Once he returned with the keycard, he took you up to the lifts via the fire exit stairs, so you wouldn’t have to walk through the lobby. Very cloak and dagger, you thought.

The hotel room was very fancy indeed, all boutique hotel chic. You’d just put your large tote bag down beside the bed, when two arms grabbed you, spun you round and threw you onto the bed. Billy nuzzled into your neck, making low growling sounds. His hands got busy unfastening your shirt, so you started on his, both of you kissing each other’s skin wherever you could reach it.

Billy groaned, “Angel... sorry, this is gonna have to be a really quick thing, m’nearly due to get kitted up for this fuckin’ op.” “That’s okay,” you gasped, “just get your clothes off, Russo.” He grinned, sitting up on his knees and stripping off his shirt, followed by his boots, jeans and CK boxer briefs. You were just lying there, eyes drinking in that fine body of his, until he took hold of his erection and gave himself a few strokes, stiffening even more. That snapped you out of your trance, and you sat up and stripped off your clothes quick as a flash.

You and Billy then kind of leapt on each other at the same time, and you found yourself tumbling backwards again onto the huge bed with Billy on top of you. He slid two fingers gently inside you before finding your clit and rubbing at it hard with his thumb. He was kissing your neck and then your breasts, licking your nipples roughly, making you give little squeals.

His fingers left you, and you felt him move his hard cock between your legs with his hand. He pushed inside with one big thrust and you gave a big, deep sigh at how good he felt inside you. Hearing Billy sigh out your name as he buried himself in you, you thought you also heard a click. Billy was kissing you hungrily and had started thrusting into you at a pretty fast pace. All thoughts of anything else went out of your head.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Dinah Madani had calmed down quite a lot over the last 24 hours.

She’d drunk herself into oblivion when she’d got home after leaving Anvil, and had to sit through that excruciating briefing with Russo and Castle the next day nursing a raging hangover. Did she regret what she’d done? Any of it? No, she didn’t.

To put it mildly, she wanted Billy Russo, and had thought she was going to get him. While she knew that she’d lost her head over him, that she’d looked so desperate when she’d jumped him in his office, she really didn’t give a shit. Madani had decided to take a shot at getting him back, and she’d taken it.

It hadn’t worked. That had really surprised as well as humiliated her. What did that bitch have that she didn’t? Anyhow, yeah - he’d kicked her to the curb, so she was just going to have to take it on the chin and move on. Not that she was happy about it, and easier said than done.

She’d decided to hunt Russo down in his room and go over some last-minute details with him. And if she was honest, maybe see if being in a hotel bedroom with him changed the dynamic any. The hotel manager had given her a master keycard as she was Agent-in-Charge of this undercover op. She was going to go in unannounced she decided, well she was the boss on this op after all. Maybe Russo would be in the shower, she mused to herself, with a pleasurable thrill.

As she opened the door and walked in, about to call out his name, what she saw did not please her in the slightest. Billy Russo’s naked tight ass thrusting up and down, him sighing and groaning out loud, lying in between a pair of legs, and she could just guess who they belonged to.

Wanting to turn round and get the hell out of there, Madani found herself rooted to the spot. It was like car crash TV... she just couldn’t bring herself to look away. So, she stood there and just watched.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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msdanvers · 4 years ago

Text

Apollo x Daphne AU — goddess of music

A gentle breeze touches Lena’s flushed and clammy skin, but it brings no relief – even the air itself is stiflingly hot today. Tree leaves brush against her arms and her cheeks, tickle the soles of her feet, get tangled in her hair. Lena breathes in slowly and lets the scent of the mountains ground her as she makes her way home.

Time has given her the opportunity to memorize the world around her in ways no mortal ever could. She knows the ways rivers flow in winter, after a rainstorm, during a draught. She knows the way they used to flow, and remembers every change. She knows where they end, where they start, when they started.

She would know the way through these mountains blindfolded, on the darkest nights.

Her connection with these forests allows her to notice when something has changed within them – a new presence, or the loss of an old one. Today is one of those moments. Lena isn’t sure what it is. The grass is still scratchy and yellow in the same places as yesterday, still green and soft in others. The cypress trees are still in the same place, and so are the barn owls nesting in their hollows. Even the gray wolves haven’t moved from their resting place since this morning when she left.

Whatever it is, she decides, there is no use dwelling on it now. Lena lets her thoughts drift as she climbs over a fallen tree. Its mossy trunk feels warm on her thighs and hands – familiar, she imagines, like the touch of a lover would feel after centuries of closeness. Intimate, trusting, in a way she herself has never felt with anyone. The thought of it feels familiar even so – she has dreamed of a love like that so often, she can almost feel its warmth.

But romance happens in stories, and a watered-down version of it happens to the other nymphs around her, and nothing like it will ever happen to Lena. She has made peace with that knowledge a long time ago, and if you asked her, she wouldn’t say she’s lonely. Lena treasures the time she spends in solitude, free of judgement and expectations, free of performances. The sweltering heat of today’s noon should be spent just like that, alone.

As she makes her way across a grassy glade, she finally hears the murmur of her river. Lena sighs in relief. She has detested the summer for as long as she can remember, and today’s blinding sun does nothing to change her mind. She can’t wait to dip her tired body in the cold, rushing river water, floating in it with her eyes closed and her mind wandering.

Which is, of course, when she hears it.

Lena stops in her tracks to listen. It’s barely noticeable at first, drowned out by the sounds of singing birds and flowing water, but once she picks it up, it’s unmistakable. Music. Who could it be? Who came to her small corner of the world, only to fill the usual silence with their lyre?

She starts walking again, a bit quicker this time, frowning as she tries to follow the sound to its source. It’s an instrument she has always enjoyed listening to and yet, Lena realizes the longer she listens, this is like nothing she has ever heard. All the satyrs that have played for her seem like children in comparison, now, like novices trying their hand at an instrument they don’t fully understand. No, this, this is what music is supposed to sound like.

Lena pauses when she catches sight of the river, one hand touching the rough bark of a tree. Her last lingering thoughts of turning the other way slip from her mind the moment she looks upstream, and finds a woman.

On a rock in the middle of the river, with her back to Lena, is the white-dressed and golden-haired lyre player. Sunlight plays with her curls and it almost looks like she’s glowing, like the source of light is not the faraway sun but this woman, playing a melody for herself and the world, unaware of her audience.

Silent, transfixed, Lena walks into the water, barely noting its cool touch as she makes her way upstream.

When the woman stops playing, there is a split second of silence in which Lena realizes there is only a few feet of space between herself and this complete stranger. Is it too late to turn away now? Why did she come this close anyway – could this woman be some kind of siren? Did she walk right into her trap?

Those nervous thoughts are forgotten the moment the woman turns around, lowering her legs into the river with a smile on her face. If she is a siren, Lena finds herself thinking, then let it be so. Let this siren lure her in with the sweetness of her song, let her ship be wrecked in the unforgiving ocean waves. She will not resent her for it.

But, like good things tend to do, the smile on the woman’s face vanishes the moment she lays eyes on Lena. Of course. This is not one of her daydreams, this is reality, in its usual painful bluntness. An all too familiar feeling takes hold of Lena’s heart – if she had to choose a word to describe it, she would say it’s disappointment. It’s deeper than that, though, and more expected.

Lena opens her mouth to say – what, she doesn’t know, but something cruel and yet indifferent enough to get this stranger to leave her alone. She doesn’t get the chance.

A sudden note, strange and off-key, paired with the sound of crushing wood, makes Lena look down at the woman’s hands. Her knuckles are white, and the lyre is completely destroyed. Lena feels her eyes widen at both the loss of such a beautiful instrument and the strength it must have taken to break it so easily. The woman doesn’t even seem to be aware of it, her eyes still focused on Lena.

This time when she studies the stranger’s face, Lena starts to wonder if she was too fast in interpreting her expression. Her smile might have fallen, but it never fell into the uninterested, slightly repulsed look that other nymphs generally give her. What she finds is more like shock, or maybe… awe? Lena feels embarrassed even thinking something as hopeful and desperate as that.

“You broke your lyre,” she says, at loss for anything bright to say.

The woman seems startled at her voice, and for one breathtaking heartbeat, she keeps staring at Lena. Then she looks down at the broken pieces of lyre in her hands. She doesn’t seem too bothered as she lays them down behind her and looks back up. “Hi.”

Lena chuckles. “Hi.”

“You have a leaf stuck in your hair.” The woman blinks after she speaks, like she wasn’t expecting herself to say that either.

“Oh.” Lena combs through her hair quickly, suddenly aware that she spent the morning walking through the forest, and probably looks the part. “Where–” she starts, but when she looks up, she suddenly finds herself face to face with the stranger’s very distracting blue eyes.

“Here,” she answers. The woman’s hand brushes against Lena’s before she runs her fingers through her hair. Lena’s eyes flutter closed unconsciously at the woman’s touch, and she exhales slowly, feeling tension leave her body that she hadn’t even been aware of.

“Look.” Lena opens her eyes to the woman’s radiant smile, and she can’t help but return it. She reaches for the leaf that the woman is holding, accidentally-purposely touching her hand more than necessary in the process.

“Thank you,” she says, unconsciously lowering her voice, and – is that a blush on the woman’s cheeks? “You play beautifully, by the way. Sorry for listening in.”

The woman smiles at her. “Well, I’ve had some practice.” It sounds like she’s joking, but Lena missed the punchline. She smiles back anyway.

“What’s your name?”

“Kara,” the woman answers.

Lena laughs, but her smile vanishes when the woman doesn’t join her. “What?” she says, feeling the leaf slip from her fingers. Water splashes around her thighs as she takes a hurried step back. Oh, no. “Kara?”

The woman nods. “What’s yours?”

“You’re an Olympian,” Lena whispers. It makes sense, in the end. Who else but the Olympian goddess of music, the inventor of the instrument itself, could play the lyre so skillfully? Who else but the goddess of the sun, Zeus’ favored daughter, could have such divine beauty – such entrancing charm?

The stranger before her is no stranger at all, but the twin of Artemis the huntress. She is the goddess that killed the mighty Python, son of Gaia herself.

“Yes. And you must be a naiad. I mean, this is a river, and you are very –” the goddess cuts herself off suddenly, frowning a little. “Are you all right?”

Lena takes another step back, her heart beating in her throat. “Forgive me,” she says. She tries to recall everything she said to Kara. Has she offended the goddess, thinking her just another nymph? Should she have bowed for her, paid her respects, offered her food?

Lena knows enough about the wrath of gods to be cautious.

Zeus pursued a girl, refused to take her ‘no’ for an answer, and in retaliation Hera transformed the girl into a cow and drove her to madness. Artemis was disturbed by an unsuspecting hunter while she was bathing, and he was torn to pieces by his own dogs. Kara herself, joined by her twin sister, had slaughtered all fourteen children of the mother who had dared to insult theirs.

Will Lena become the next name to be whispered around fires, remembered for ages for her misfortune and mistakes?

“You are frightened. Of me.” Lena looks up, but finds no ire in Kara’s eyes.

Surely, that can’t be right. Lena has laughed at her, tried to flirt with her. She can only think of one reason the goddess wouldn’t have minded that, but she doesn’t let herself believe it.

“Forgive me,” she says again, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“There is nothing to forgive. And I’m not going to hurt you.” Kara gently puts a hand on Lena’s arm. “Look at me? There is nothing to forgive.” Lena can’t believe the goddess of archery is looking so… tender. While looking at her. “Breathe.”

Realizing that she did, indeed, forget to do that, Lena takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Kara laughs.

“Are you sure I haven’t offended you? I didn’t know…”

“I’m sure.” Then she smiles mischievously. “But I could exact my revenge anyway, if that would make you feel better.”

Lena opens her mouth, and gets hit in the face with a splash of water before she can ask questions.

She spits the water out, too startled to react at first. But Kara is biting her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and a high and nervous giggle escapes Lena’s lips before she can stop it.

Her hand shoots up to her mouth immediately, as if she could still cover up the sound that has already escaped. But Kara bursts out laughing too, loud and lovely, and Lena couldn’t keep a straight face while hearing that if her life depended on it.

“Now, I bet even a water nymph can’t have better aim than me.”

Lena smiles at her, one eyebrow raised. Her hands are already underwater, her muscles already tightened, before she thinks – this is a god, what am I doing? – and redirects the throw downwards at the very last moment. Managing to avoid Kara’s face, unfortunately, has the side-effect of splashing water all over her dress instead.

Kara looks down at the wet linen clinging to her figure, then back up at Lena, who is trying very hard not to look at it. “I must say, I was expecting better.”

Kara has barely finished her sentence when Lena hits her again, square in the face this time. Lena lets out a short, joyous laugh at the shocked expression on Kara’s face. Then, before the goddess can retaliate, she dives into the river and swims away as fast as she can. She feels the water shift behind her and knows she’s being pursued.

The muffled sounds of the underwater world mix with the fast beating of her excited heart as they shoot through the river. The water gets deeper the further she goes, rocks and plants flashing by as she swims and swims and swims. She feels strong and alive and her smile doesn’t fade until she finds her way blocked by a school of fresh-water fish.

Lena doesn’t really feel like swimming into them face-first, so she dives down to the bottom of the river. Her hands disappear in squishy mud before finding solid rock, and she pushes herself upwards again.

But the move slowed her down, and when she looks over her shoulder, a flash of white and gold is all the warning she gets before muscular arms catch her around the waist and a body slams into hers.

She barely has time to register Kara’s closeness before she realizes what’s happening. Kara was coming from beside her, and now they’re going way too fast in what is decidedly not the direction they should be going. They’re headed straight for the shore.

Kara manages to turn Lena around in her arms and pull her close before they collide with the riverside pebbles, spraying them everywhere.

It doesn’t hurt – both her head and her back have somehow made a soft landing, even though Kara ended up on top of her. They’re both panting when she opens her eyes and finds Kara’s face close to hers, her cheeks flushed and her eyes concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Lena nods and smiles. Kara smiles back and they don’t say a word, but then they’re laughing again, uncontrollably and without shame. She doesn’t just hear Kara’s laugh, she feels it, reverberating through the parts of their bodies that are touching.

When Kara wriggles her arms free from under Lena’s body, one of her hands disappears from its place under Lena’s head.

Oh. That explains the lack of pain. Kara must have taken the brunt of the impact.

“Are you okay?” Lena asks, frowning.

“Of course,” Kara answers with a lopsided smile. She is leaning on her forearms, now, hovering over Lena. The sun above her is like a halo, a crown of light that paints the edges of her silhouette golden. Lena breathes in the forest air, the familiar scent of the river joined by an unfamiliar sweetness, a sweetness that must be Kara.

Their bodies are intertwined, the river still flowing past their legs while most of Lena’s body is resting on the sun-warmed shore they crashed into. And most of Kara’s body is resting on Lena, her warmth seeping through the fabric of their clothes.

A drop of water falls from Kara’s nose and lands on Lena’s cheek. Lena chuckles, and Kara smiles with her whole face, her eyes twinkling as she wipes it away with a finger. It’s unnecessary, seeing as Lena’s whole face is still dripping with river water anyway, but she can’t bring herself to care.

Then Kara breathes out and Lena feels it.

The air brushes against her lips, and her eyes flick down to Kara’s mouth. Her heart beats in her chest like it’s trying to escape, and Lena briefly wonders if Kara can feel it too, wonders if some of what she feels is Kara’s heart, not just her own. Then she wonders what it would feel like if Kara were to lean down just a little, what she would taste like if they closed the distance and…

“I’m sorry. I should go,” Kara says.

Lena’s hands slip away from Kara’s waist when she pushes herself up, leaving Lena behind, startled and breathless. Her wet dress feels sticky and cold against her skin in the absence of Kara’s touch, the pebbles in her back suddenly too sharp, the sunlight too bright.

How could she have misread the situation so badly?

Lena sits up too, feeling her whole face flush in embarrassment. She can’t bring herself to look at Kara. She lets her hair fall between them like a shield, and looks down at her fiddling hands instead.

“Can I visit you again?”

Her gaze shoots up when Kara breaks the silence, and she finds the goddess looking at her with a tentative smile.

Lena is silent, stunned, for a long moment. Too long, probably, because Kara nods to herself and starts to get up.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Kara says, and it sounds like a farewell – why does it sound like a farewell?

“Wait,” Lena says softly.

“Don’t worry, it’s all right. I’ll just –” Kara starts walking away, and Lena’s heart skips a beat.

“No, wait!” Lena captures Kara’s hand and she almost forgets how to breathe when Kara’s eyes meet hers. “I’d… love to see you again.”

For a moment, all she hears is the rustling leaves and the river. Kara’s hand is warm and soft and still dripping with river water, and Lena wishes it were hers to hold for as long as it took to dry, and for longer after that.

“Really,” Kara breathes.

“Really.”

Kara breathes out a laugh, and it almost sounds relieved. “Then I’ll see you soon.”

Smiling, Lena squeezes Kara’s hand softly, something fluttering inside of her when Kara squeezes back and strokes the back of her hand with her thumb before letting go. Lena watches her walk away, watches her turn around one last time when she reaches the trees, watches her smile. Then she watches her disappear, like all of this was just another daydream.

But it wasn’t. Lena lifts a hand to her face, touches it where Kara touched her, and sits down slowly. She closes her eyes, and sighs.

#listen if you read all of this know that i love u ok.#supergirl fic #supergirl #supercorp fic #supercorp #apollo x daphne AU #supercorp fanfic #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp au #my words #supergirl au #kara #lena #mine

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years ago

Text

Branded - Chapter 34

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky head back to New York.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Brief explicit sex, angst, mild anxiety attacks, fluff, dirty jokes

AO3

The shower was not, in fact, faster with the two of you in it.

It started off fine enough, with Bucky helping wash off the drying cum between your legs. Somehow, it escalated with you pressed chest first against the wall, moaning without shame against the tile. Bucky rubbed the tip of his cock between your folds, teasing you, making you beg for it until he pushed forward and slid all the way inside.

Bucky didn’t seem to have any kind of refractory period, and you didn’t either, so he fucked you right there against the wall. Your fingers were flat against the tile, his fingers intertwining with yours as he ground against you, the spray of water making everything wet and slippery and so much more obscene.

It didn’t last much longer than that. As soon as Bucky had one hand delved between your legs, padded finger carefully rubbing against your clit as the other gently cradled your throat, it was over. You came with a cry, knees buckling as your legs went weak. You would have fallen if Bucky hadn’t held you up, giving a strained groan as he spilled into you again.

This time, when he cleaned you, there was no danger of a fourth round. You could barely hold yourself up, leaning against Bucky for support as you floated on a blissful wave of tingly euphoria.

Bucky wasn’t nearly as content. He had that tight frown he wore when he was unhappy, usually at himself, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “Just… tired.”

“Because I drained you dry.”

“I’m anything but dry,” you said, giving the biggest shit-eating grin you could muster.

He sighed, gently scrubbing down the front of your thighs. You shivered appreciatively at the lovely attention.

“I got careless,” he muttered. “Should have stopped after the first time.”

“I’ll just nap on the way back.” You yawned involuntarily. Shit, maybe he had drained you a little too much. Oops. “You were gonna drive anyway, right? Just give me some carbs and I’ll be good as new.”

Bucky grunted but didn’t argue further, ending the argument with a kiss on top of your head. You could get used to resolving arguments this way.

After finishing cleaning up and toweling dry (or rather, Bucky toweled you dry while you hummed drunkenly against his chest), you headed downstairs for a quick breakfast. As suspected, you felt much better after scarfing down a bagel, a bowl of oatmeal, and a plate of pancakes and fruit. If being hungry and tired after sex was the biggest price you had to pay to have Bucky, you were more than willing.

Of course, it wasn’t the biggest price you had to pay, but you didn’t want to think about that whole situation. Being reminded of the fact that if you didn’t have sex with Bucky you’d die a terrible, painful death could really put a damper on your mood. It was a problem for another day, not for right now, when you had to focus on your last meal with the family and pretend you hadn’t just had your brains screwed out by a hot-ass demon.

Before you knew it, you were packed up and out the door, Monster’s carrier cradled in your arms as Bucky got the bags. Your aunt and uncle hugged you both, followed by you mom, squeezing you tightly before letting you go.

“Be safe on the drive. Text me when you get back. I’ll try calling you more, I miss talking to you, sweetie.”

“Me too, Mom,” you said, the guilt hurdling through your body like a ricocheting bullet. She had no idea the kind of danger and trauma you’d been through, and no matter what, you could never tell her. The least you could do was try to be better and contact her more often.

With a warm smile, your mom wrapped her arms around Bucky’s shoulders and gave him a tight squeeze.

“You take care now, Jacob. We loved having you over, so don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you for having me, ma’am,” he said, flashing a dazzling smile once they pulled apart. “It was a pleasure.”

You mom shot you a knowing smile after Bucky turned around, and you had to fight to not bury your face in your hands. At least she hadn’t said something like ‘oh no, the pleasure’s all my daughter’s.’

Ugh. Family.

You loved coming back home again, but you were also ready to get back to the city. Back to your own place where you could have a bit more privacy. It also meant you had to think about what came next.

The dilemma seemed to weigh heavily on Bucky’s mind as well; after he pulled the car away from the icy curb, he was quiet, but the tension in his jaw spoke volumes. After you were out of the Boston suburbs and on the highway, slower than the speed limit to account for the icy roads, Bucky said, “You can take a nap if you want.”

“I’m okay for now. If you don’t mind the company, that is.”

“I always love having you around.”

And just like that, your face was on fire.

“Bucky.”

“And you’re so cute when you’re flustered, too.”

When you glanced over, sure enough, he was grinning with those perfect white teeth full on display. You wished you had a hoodie to hide in but you’d opted to wear a sweater instead, so you buried your face in your hands.

“You can’t just say things like that.”

“What? That I like spending time with you?” He huffed. “Anyone’s who’s too embarrassed to tell you that stuff doesn’t deserve you.”

Now you were burying your face in your hands and slinking down in the seat.

“Aww c’mon. Is it that bad? Being complimented?”

“I’m just… not used to it, that’s all.”

There was a sudden warm weight on top of your head, fingers moved through your hair, and you instantly melted. Being petted by a demon probably shouldn’t have been so relaxing, but you leaned into his touch and lowered your hands into your lap.

“You really like that?” he asked with a tinge of amusement.

You made a mmhmm sound and closed your eyes, warm and safe. You didn’t want this trip to end, not knowing what came next, but maybe things would be all right.

Maybe because you felt so cozy and content you lost a bit of your filter. Or maybe Bucky’s fingers on your scalp coupled with the lack of sleep made you more open. For whatever reason, you broached the subject you’d both been avoiding since last night.

“It wasn’t that bad, you know,” you mumbled. “Being in that place with you.”

His hand stopped moving. No, you didn’t like that, keep petting me, damn it. But he didn’t, and when he pulled away entirely you nearly whined. It pulled you out of your stupor at least, and Bucky’s tense expression as he stared out the windshield made you regret saying anything at all.

But you had, and it was too late to take it back, so you pressed on.

“Really, it… it felt like a lifetime when I was there, but now it’s just like… a dream. Or fuzzy, like childhood memories. I don’t know how to explain it.”

The only sound between you were tires on the icy road, the hum of the heater, and the windshield wipers thumping back and forth at a regular rhythm.

“You had it worse,” you blurted. Oh, why had you brought it up? You should have at least waited until you got back to the city, not when you were trapped in a car together. “You had to actually live all that stuff.”

“You lived it too.” He was almost too quiet to hear. “You did.”

That was all he said, at least for so long you thought the conversation was officially over. You stared out the passenger window, watching the flakes pound against the glass, when Bucky asked:

“What was it like? Being inside someone’s head?”

Even though his tone was carefully blank, it was a curious question, and you were happy to answer it if it got him talking.

“Kind of… weird? But I got used to it pretty fast. Sometimes I could zone out and not really pay attention to what you were doing. So I could… you know, give you privacy.” Your face grew warmer and you didn’t dare look at him. “And other times, I could be very present and felt what you were feeling. It really wasn’t that bad. Especially when… uh…when I kept you warm, and stuff.”

Yep, your face was on fire again, but it made it all worth it when he gave an amused snort.

“I never did thank you for that. I’m pretty sure I would have froze to death otherwise. And I didn’t even know who you were, or what you were, and I wanted to…”

Wanted to what?

He never said, because the conversation truly died there, and you didn’t have the heart to revive it. Not with the mournful look on his face as he drove.

You propped your arm up on the window and made a pillow out of it, hoping if you took a nap you might be more clear-headed, and if not that, at least you could leave Bucky alone with his thoughts. Worried you’d pushed him too far and too fast, you didn’t think you’d fall asleep, but the thrum of the car engine lulled you into a doze. When next you opened your eyes, the car was stopped, pulled up to a pump at a gas station. The car was still on, the heater keeping the car comfortably warm, but Bucky was nowhere in sight.

Panic shot through you like a thunderbolt, and you shoved open the door, holding on to it as you frantically searched the parking lot. There were people around so you didn’t start yelling for Bucky like a crazy person, but your heart was beating against your ribcage like a trapped animal.

Where could Bucky have gone? Did someone capture him? You didn’t believe he would have left on his own, no way, not after… not after everything that had happened the past few days.

He wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t—

“Sweetheart?”

You spun around so hard you nearly lost your footing, but you grabbed the roof of the car and regained your balance. Bucky still gripped you by the shoulder, concern creasing his brows.

“Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I just saw you were gone and got worried, that’s all.” And now you also felt like the world’s biggest idiot, or at least the world’s clingiest person.

Bucky released his breath and dropped his hand.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“I scared you?” You were pretty sure your heart was still beating a mile a minute, and you were definitely still out of breath. “What do you mean I scared you?”

“I was inside paying for gas, and next thing I feel is your terror—I thought someone had attacked you.”

“That’s what I thought had happened to you!”

Bucky sighed and pushed the hair back from his face with a gloved hand, and then gave you an exasperated but fond look.

“You think we’re being a little co-dependent?” you asked, sheepish.

“Sweetheart.” His unfairly sexy mouth quirked as he rolled his eyes. “We’re literally bound by demon magic.”

“Oh. Yeah, good point.”

He kissed you on the top of your head and instantly the tension leeched from your body. Bucky really could play your body like an instrument, couldn’t he.

“Well, now that you’re back,” you said with a wince, “I gotta go pee. And maybe pick up some snacks, I’m still really hungry.”

“That’ll be from the, uh… multiple feedings.” His smile vanished, replaced by concern. “Do you want me to—I should come with you?”

“I think only one of us should be subjected to the horrors of gas station restrooms. Plus, someone needs to stay and watch the child.”

Bucky blinked in confusion and then grimaced. You shook your finger at him.

“Monster is baby, and you keep an eye on him. I’ll be right back,” you added when he switched back into worry-mode. “If I’m in danger, sounds like you’ll know it, yes?”

Bucky grumbled an affirmative, and you turned away. Paused. Turned back around and walked up to him. His eyes widened as you planted a kiss on his cheek, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intensely pleased with yourself for his reaction.

After you braved the disgusting bathroom and picked up a couple snacks demanded by your rumbling stomach, you paused in front of a humming machine. You stared at the swirling glass in front of you, lost in the memory of a red-washed dune.

You snapped out of it, set down your snacks, and grabbed two huge plastic cups to fill.

By the time you returned outside, the car was fueled and Bucky was leaning against the side with his arms crossed over his chest. To an outsider he would appear calm, but tightness of his shoulders and the fraught lines of his face told you a different story.

Bucky took the overfilling snacks from your arms to your gratitude. He raised an eyebrow at the sheer volume of them, and you shrugged.

“I was hungry. You’re welcome to my snacks, too. Oh, and… I got this for you.”

You held out one of the Big Gulps. The plastic was a solid blue and red, so Bucky couldn’t see what was inside until he looked down the transparent domed lid.

He stared at it. And stared. It was cold enough to snow, and you were sweating.

“I know it’s not… not blueberry-flavored. They don’t really do that anymore, use real ingredients for this kind of junk. But it is blue, and it’s an Icee, so I figured…” Your voice trailed off. Bucky continued to stare.

And then his eyes started to water.

“Oh, no,” you whispered, horrified. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t mean to—“

Bucky pulled you into a tight embrace. Right there, in the gas station, for all to see.

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” One arm across the back of your shoulders and the other around your waist, he squeezed you, holding you tightly to his chest. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t understand why it happened. How you got stuck in the demon realm place with me. I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t… I didn’t know… I should have known, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry.”

“Bucky…” You melted into his hold, kept warm from the biting temperatures. But it didn’t protect you from your guilt of hiding the truth. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault what had happened. You were responsible, even if it had been an accident, but you were too afraid to tell him what the Ancient One had said. You had no idea how he would react, and you wanted to get back to the city before dropping that bomb on him.

“Please don’t apologize,” you said, muffled by his jacket. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that bad on my end. Like I told you, it was kind of like a dream. It’s already faded a little.”

Which was true. Somewhat. There were a few moments that would stick with you for the rest of your life, like the mummified corpse with the sigil on its shoulder. You had no doubt it was a human enslaved to a demon, but what you didn’t know was how they had ended up on that world. It would be the subject of more nightmares, that was for sure.

Not to mention the whole watching Bucky die in front of you thing, but if you thought about that for even a moment you’d probably have a nervous breakdown. The only thing that kept it at bay was the constant reminder that Bucky was alive and well.

All in all, you were coping fairly well, and if anything, you were more worried about Bucky. He’d actually been there physically while you’d only experienced the time-loop through him.

Or… that was your guess, anyway. Who knew how these things worked? Hopefully, the wizards.

“I’m still sorry you had to go through all of that,” he said, warm breath tickling your hair. “If I’d known that was going to happen, I never would have tried to show you those memories.”

You couldn’t reach your arms around him, protectively holding your Icee so he wouldn’t crush it, so you leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“We’re both here and we’re both okay,” you said, “so that’s what I’m going to focus on.”

Bucky had an odd expression. It was part wistful, sad, and something else. You couldn’t figure out what it was before he gave a defeated smile.

“All right, all right.”

“I’m serious, Barnes.” You prodded his chest playfully. “You’ve seen my family. One demon isn’t going to intimidate me. We’ll figure out what happened with the memories, but you are not allowed to blame yourself. I forbid it.”

The strange, sad look vanished, and Bucky released you with one arm, the other kept around your waist. Your skin tingled at the casual touch. Would you ever get used to this?

Bucky stared down at the slushy in suspicion, then he took a cautious sip of the straw and grimaced.

“Jesus. What’s it with people these days and sugar? You tryin’ to give kids diabetes?”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, and grabbed your snacks. Bucky wasn’t going to get any if he was going to complain about your junk food choices.

“What? It’s a serious question,” he continued as you both got into the car. “It won’t do anything to me, but what about your poor liver?”

“I’m pretty sure my liver is glowing with vitality after all the demon sex I’ve had.”

It took a beat for him to respond. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“That.” He turned his head very slowly, and peered at you. “Is not how it works.”

You grinned and slouched back in your seat, sticking your straw in your mouth and slurping as obnoxiously as possible. Bucky shook his head before putting the car into gear, the softness of his smile fading too quickly, and the faint sadness you didn’t like returned.

Next Chapter

#branded #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #my fanfiction #my writing

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barricadebops · 4 years ago

Note

I NEED A WHOLE BOOK THIS IS A M A Z I N G I'd sell my soul for mummy au snippets I love you oh my hhhhhhhh *screams in adoration*

The Mummy AU verse, you can find the first fic here.

"One year ago, you were chained to a table and was nearly sacrificed in some demonic summoning ritual, I was nearly sucked dry of my everything, and Courf nearly killed us all by summoning guards who were hell bent on killing us until he muttered the right incantation. And where are we a year later?" he muttered as he trailed behind his fiance, a hand poised near the gun in his holster, ready should anything go awry. Which, considering their previous experience at Hamunaptra, wasn't too unlikely a possibility.

In front of him, Enjolras hummed. "The mummy's gone Grantaire, we took care of that. There's nothing to worry about." He stopped walking for a moment and turned around to face him. "The pyramids are open to explore! Who knows what we may discover next?"

"Another creepy book that'll end with nothing good?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Remind me to keep you away from those."

At his comment, Enjolras didn't even spare him his signature huff or roll-of-his-eyes, which Grantaire thought was pretty rude. He lived to see the way Enjolras face scrunched up in a way that couldn't possibly look cute on anyone's face and yet managed to do on his, the least he could have done as payment for dragging him here once more would be to give it to him.

(Or, well, Grantaire says dragging. In reality, he would have readily followed Enjolras to the ends of the Earth if he asked.)

They turned down a narrow passageway, the dark flickering to life where they held their torches as Enjolras felt along the notches of the wall, looking for...whatever it was he was looking for, his trusty kit wrapped safely around his waist.

"If you're quite done complaining, Mr. Grantaire," he said absentmindedly, addressing him the way he once did when they were first acquainted, out of teasing, "perhaps you could help me?"

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Help exactly how?"

But Grantaire knew exactly how. It was clear to anyone who could see Enjolras straining on his toes to reach an indented groove in the wall next to another relief, too far out of his reach for him to strike with his chisel as a result of his rather short stature what he needed help with. He just liked hearing him ask.

And as predicted, Enjolrad turned his head and glared, huffing that signature huff Grantaire loved so much.

"Grantaire, I swear if you don't get over here and help me, this time I'll actually summon the mummy through my 'heiroglyph' notes. And this time I'll become his true faithful lover while you mope over the engagement ring I throw back at your head."

The mention of the heiroglyph note-scare was enough to have Grantaire turn pale and rush to his side to help. It certainly wasn't a feeling he wanted to relive again; revenge for an offhand comment by Grantaire about the illegibility of Enjolras' handwriting--that they looked like heiroglyphs and that he was no Egyptologist like his fiance was to decipher them--led to a barrage of notes this time truly in heiroglyphs, and made suspicious and mysterious enough to rouse his suspicions that Enjolras was trying something that might have them pursued by an unholy monster once again, and it certainly didn't help that Enjolras acted well enough to allow him to believe those suspicions.

"Two weeks," he complained as he crouched low enough to allow Enjolras to climb onto his shoulders. "For two weeks you let me think you'd been possessed by some spirit trying to summon the mummy again. You made me look like a fool when Combeferre and Courfeyrac finally came back only to see me panicking at their doorstep."

Enjolras hummed as Grantaire straightened and he found himself lifted off the ground, boosted high enough on Grantaire's shoulders that he could now reach the spot he had been straining to toucn earlier. "Maybe you shouldn't have insulted my writing then. Besides, you should know that heiroglyphs doesn't equate to demonic writing."

"Given my experience with them, you'll have to forgive me if I think they're symbols straight outta hell," he muttered, swaying slightly on his feet. Enjolras patted his head.

"Stay still, Grantaire, I'm trying to hold my chisel steady."

He smiled up at him. "You may be an angel, but you certainly have no way of touching the heavens without help."

Abruptly stopping his chiselling, Enjolras glared down at the top of his fiance's head, and deadpanned, "No, but I'll drag you to hell if you keep it up with the short jokes."

"Hey, come on now, don't get short with me."

"Grantaire."

He remained standing still as Enjolras began to chisel away at the notch in the wall, dust falling around them. "Will you at least tell me what you actually wrote on those notes."

A smirk on his face, Enjolras peered down at him and smugly answered, "I guess you'll never know."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I could just ask Courf."

Enjolras' smirk only grew. "He'll never tell--I've got too much dirt on him."

If he could, Grantaire would shake his head. Siblings.

However, given his current position, he was in no means to do so as Enjolras continued to chisel away at the wall. "What exactly are we looking for again?"

Above him, Enjolras hummed. "Well, we found enough jewels and riches enough to prove that the claims of Hamunaptra being the city of gold for the Pharaohs was real." As an aside, he murmured under his breath, "Take that Bembridge Scholars," which surprised a rumbling laugh out of Grantaire, which on any other day Enjolras might have appreciated, but seeing as how Grantaire's whole body shook and he was sat upon his shoulders, instead he yelped and gripped tight onto Grantaire's hair, which threatened to turn his laughter into purring.

"Gr--Grantaire! Stop!"

"I'll make it a deal to stop laughing if you stop pulling," he grit out in attempt to reign in any embarassing noises that threatened to spill from his tongue.

"Huh? Oh!" his hair was released, Enjolras wincing in sympathy. "Sorry."

Grantaire was of the thought that he didn't have to be sorry if he did the same thing, just when they got home.

"We're--stop moving, I'll fall--we're looking for one of Seti I's pendants--his most prized pendant of all."

He snorted. "And this requires looking through his walls?"

Enjolras peered down at his head, frowning as if it were obvious. "Well, yes. It was stolen from him, and many archaeologists believe it was hidden in the ground or put in a wall."

"Well," he watched as his fiance continued to chip away at the notch in the wall, "there are a hundred walls here. How do we know which one it is?"

"The thieves confessed to hiding it near a relief," Enjolras murmured distractedly. "Such as this one." He pointed to the relief carved next to them.

"How'd they get them to confess?"

"Oh!" Enjolras grinned down at him. "They had them tortured until they spoke. Then they killed them!"

He squinted up at him. "You know, I may call you angel, but the way you speak about this kind of stuff as if it's just common practice to torture and then execute really has me on edge."

"That's just what studying Egyptology does to you, dear." He delivered one last strike to the wall before the surrounding area started to crack. Uneasily, he crouched low so Enjolras could get off as he grabbed for his hand and pulled him back slowly, as if their subtle movements made a difference on the rate of the wall cracking.

The wall eventually ceased its sounds of whip-like cracks as the lines made a halt. Cautiously, Enjolras stepped forward and pressed a hand to the surface, before turning his head to give Grantaire a smile.

"It's still intact, let me just get out my chisel again--"

CRACK!

Grantaire had time only to dart out to grab Enjolras' hand and yank him backwards as the wall shattered and something heavy came toppling out, nearly crushing Enjolras had Grantaire not pulled him to safety at the last second.

Both panting heavily at their narrow escape, Grantaire pressed a light kiss to the top of Enjolras' head as he tightened his arms around him, all the while musing, "Every time we come here it's like your disaster mode is activated, hey Angel? How many times do I have to pull you out of way of falling objects?"

At this point, it wasn't as if Enjolras was even trying to deny it. "As many times as we're out here to discover."

He delivered another quick kiss to his head before he let him go to inspect the fallen object.

A sarcophagus.

Grantaire groaned.

Not this again.

"Grantaire," Enjolras' voice was hushed in awe and his eyes were wide. "Grantaire it's--well it's a--"

"Yeah," he wrapped his hand around Enjolras' wrist and pulled him back once more, drawing a noise of protest from his fiance. "No, we're not doing this again."

Enjolras wriggled his wrist free. "Grantaire, we can't just leave it! Imagine what could be inside!"

"What could be inside, huh?" He muttered. "We all saw how well that went."

"That was one curse," Enjolras said dismissively.

"A curse that nearly brought the end of the world--"

"Besides, you need an incantation to bring the dead back, and since we don't have the Book with us..." He shrugged innocently. Raising his eyebrows, he said, "Please?"

Grantaire looked at his hopeful expression, down to the ground beneath them, up to the dim ceiling that trapped them, before groaning and burying his head in his hands.

"Fine! Fine!" He looked back to Enjolras and sighed. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Enjolras simply beamed and leaned up to peck his cheek, one soft hand cupping his face. "You wouldn't have been able to stop me even if you said no, dear."

He brought his own hand up to hold Enjolras' as he leaned further into his touch, rubbing his stubbled cheek on his hand and turning to deliver a quick kiss to its palm. "Yeah, I know."

They both approached the sarcophagus slowly, working to lift it up vertically and set it against the wall. Grantaire set off to prying open the lid--this one unimpeded by any sort of a lock--as Enjolras leaned forwards in anticipation. He paused for a moment to glare back at him until Enjolras rolled his eyes and conceded by way of taking a step back; safety wise, it really wasn't as if that one step would truly do anything were anything to actually pop out alive from it, but it provided Grantaire with a sort of ease, even if unfounded.

The lid of the sarcophagus began to give way, and Grantaire knew that with one last heave he would be able to pull it free. Both held their breaths as Grantaire gave one final tug, Enjolras leaned forwards, dust was expelled in a massive cloud as the lid popped off and out came--

Grantaire jumped back and yanked Enjolras back too, gasping, only to see--

Nothing came out. Not even the skeleton of what would have been one buried inside. The sarcophagus was completely--

"Empty?" Enjolras shook his head in disbelief. "It's empty! How can it be empty?"

Grantaire shrugged, a bit relieved at the result of their findings. "Shit, Angel, I don't know? Maybe they just wanted to bury an empty sarcophagus." Even as he said it, he knew it was a stupid thought.

Enjolras scoffed. "Yes, because it's not as if that would take time and effort they couldn't be spending someplace else." He looked hesitant before voicing that little thought that had popped up in Grantaire's mind--one he would have previously written off as being stupid were it not for his recent adventures in the past. "Do you...do you think that maybe... whatever was in here somehow, well, somehow got out?"

And despite the fact that their experiences taught him that it was very much possible, Grantaire shook his head. A little bit of denial was never a bad thing, right? A man's gotta cope somehow.

"No, Angel, that's not possible."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Enjolras opened his mouth to argue that they both well knew that Enjolras could be right, but before he could do so, Grantaire continurd, "Now, what I think we should do is get the hell out of here and back to camp, and then go home next morning and sleep until we die."

"But! But Grantaire! We haven't even found the pendant!" Enjolras protested as Grantaire took him by the hand and started leading him out. "We didn't find what we came here for!"

"Trust me," he grunted. "Maybe the pendant should stay buried."

"Grantaire we can't--" he cut himself off at the sound of shuffling echoing somewhere from one of the passageways.

Both went rigidly still.

The noise made itself heard once more, and Grantaire looked at Enjolras as he raised a finger to his lips and began to ease his hand towards his gun.

The sound disappeared for a moment, in which Grantaire could only discern both Enjolras' and his breathing followed by the slight click as he began to draw his gun from his holster.

Then he felt Enjolras hand wrenched from his own as he screamed, and Grantaire, panicking, drew his gun up, swivelling to try and find where Enjolras disappeared to and fingered the trigger--

"Wait wait!" a laughing voice called. "Don't shoot, it's just me!"

Cursing, he slid his gun back in holster and glared at where Courfeyrac had his arms wrapped around a pale Enjolras.

"Honestly, fuck you Courfeyrac, what is your problem?" he asked, annoyed.

Courfeyrac seemed to be trying to catch his breath as Grantaire tried to slow his own racing heart. "Oh don't be like that. My brother dearest and I act like this all the time!"

Enjolras smacked Courfeyrac's chest. "Yes, at home!" he hissed. "Not somewhere you could give me a heartattack!"

Courfeyrac ruffled his hair. "But this just makes the fear even more delicious."

"Remind me why we brought you along again?"

"Well who else is going to keep you on track? If I weren't here, you two would probably forget all about the pendant in favour of more, ah, hands-on experiences."

"Courfeyrac!"

#annie writes stories #enjolras #grantaire #enjoltaire #les mis fic #courfeyrac #les miserables #les miserables fic #ExR #have some more Mummy AU verse stuff #in which enjolras is our beloved archaeologist and egyptologist and librarian #and grantaire our swashbuckling adventurer #and courf our kickass adventurer who can also read heiroglyphs brother to our librarian #also thank you 🥺 I love your writing and that means a lot to me

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yunhostinyuyu · 4 years ago

Text

don’t be so naive - part one

pairing: prince!yeosang x princess!reader ft. brother!seonghwa

genre: royal au, angst, little fluff

wc: 3.6k

synopsis: your parents got themselves into a hassle, and the only way out involves you and a handsome Prince from a neighbouring kingdom...

warnings: arranged marriage, mentioned murder, mentioned ambush

—

“I expected to find you here.” you turn your head around from the corner of the glasshouse you were currently hiding at. It was your older brother with a relieved look painted on his face as he saw you in between the plants, playing with one of the many cats that found home in the ginormous park like garden your family got to call their own. It wasn’t very princess-like, you knew that, but you liked the nature. And despite living in a giant castle with countless rooms, this was the only place were you could truly catch a break and think. Seonghwa however just beat you to it, which made the stray cats jump out of your lap and run into the nearest bushes, looking after thier retreading froms for as long as possible to avoid the conversation with your brother that you could no longer hide from.

Turning your back back to him, you sigh, “Don’t wanna talk, leave me alone.” trying to shrug him off, but knowing him, he wouldn’t leave until he got to say what he came here for. You fumble with some fallen leaves and blossoms that are already dead, lying infront of you on the cobbled ground. Thoughts about the stone cold reality your parents confronted you with just hours ago still fresh in your mind.

“Since things haven’t gone smoothly recently and we have gotten ourselves in quite a bit of trouble, we had to ask around in the kingdoms nearby for help. We found a wealthy family willing to support us, but... their oldest son is going to marry you in return. We are deeply sad about this, since we know you didn’t want this, but this is the only way. If you reject, they won’t help us and we will be doomed.”

You hated this. They were giving you no options. And even if you would do everything to help your family out of their mess, this was the only thing you would never want to do. Being young, free, on your own. Riding the horses out into the woods and shooting animals in the mountains, practicing your archery skills and gardening all the rare flowers and plants from all over the world... this is what you lived for. Being forced into a marriage would mean for you to quit all those things and never be able to do them again. Only because of the mistakes your parents caused.

Seonghwa reaches his hand towards you, nodding his head back where he entered the little shelter. „If we had more time I would let you alone, but that’s not the case. Please, just walk around with me and listen, will you?“.

Even if your parents were the definition of evil, your brother clearly wasn’t. He is the only person you could lean on and most importantly, trust. The both of you really loved your parents, regardless of their wrong doings. Like they said, love makes blind, and that doesn’t only apply to romatic relationships. Whenever the news about your parents broke, murdering other kings and queens, raiding them of all thier belongings just to name the worst, You and Seonghwa have always turned a blind eye - or a deaf ear - towards the accusations and defended them regardless. But deep in your heart, you knew that they have overstepped many borders, and were now stuck.

Groaning to yourself, you pulled yourself up to your feet and patted the dirt of your skirt before following your brother around the garden as he started to state the facts, and quite frankly, what’s at stake here:

„You should know that they arranged a meeting with him already. He could arrive any minute, and he‘s eager to see you.“ he said, earning another groan from you, but this time out of pure frustration. This was moving too fast, only adding to the irritation that was already building up inside of you for hours, now threatening to come loose.

„Seonghwa,“ you started, but stopped for a second as you interwined your fingers with the older ones. „I don’t wanna do this. You‘re eager to marry, why don‘t you go ahead? They surely have many daughters desperate to get a man like you. Not to mention you‘re the oldest out of us.“ you tried to push the responsibility onto him, but he only scoffed in reply. He looked down to you, before dipping his chin towards his chest. Seeing faint traces of sadness resurface on his face. Your gut told you that he wasn’t happy about bringing you those news, but yet, it was his duty. He was the only one you’re willing to listen to, but you cursed at yourself and wishing you would have stayed in the glasshouse with the cats.

„They specifically asked for you. Even if I wanted to take your place, they don’t want me. Just you.“ he tried his best to stay serious and not show his outrage, staying calm instead. Whipping your head towards him and slowing your movements, „What if I do reject him? For all I know he could be some old, disgusting person. And it wouldn’t be so bad if they denied their support, surely there are other-“

Seonghwa stopped and pulled you by your shoulder, his glance boring holes into your skull. „Then they will kill us all, Y/N, don’t you get it? They are the only people willing to help us, because everyone else is out to murder us! If you deny, then you can already start planning your funeral, aswell as mine and our parents’. This is the last straw - no, you are the last straw.“

The words hit you with more force than ever before, ducking your head away from his heated stare and trying to get away. You sighed. This really wasn’t your usual way of handling things, and it only added to your bad feeling. Being weak and hiding wasn’t really like you at all, and you swore to yourself in that very moment, in Seonghwas harsh grip and angsty eyes, that no matter what happened - you were staying strong and true to yourself. And if it was the last thing you were doing. Taking a deep breath before you met his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages, your confidence struck.

„Okay. I will do it. There is no choice, so I‘ll have to do it.“

He sighed, but a small smile stretched his lips, “I know you will, and you can. But father send me not to console you, but to get yourself dressed and ready for Yeosang.” He started to walk again, aim back on the entrance back into the giant hallways of your home. Heading towards one of the rooms that had a majority of your fancier attire. Leaving you alone in the room as soon as you two arrive, but sending in the tailor just a few minutes later. Indicating how important the meeting actually is to your parents. As if their life depended on it, which it ironically did.

Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang... you thought to yourself while the familiar person started to work on your clothing. You heard that name before, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. May it be from on of the many balls and festivities you attended when you were younger, which basically were failed attempts to find a fitting spouse for both you and Seonghwa. And there were so many handsome, young, intelligent and athletic princes pining at you, but in the end you turned them all down. Secretly hoping that he wasn’t one of the many rejected boys, or else things are garantueed to turn awkward the moment he steps foot into your home.

After what felt like hours of the tailor getting you dressed in one of the finest dresses and brushing your long hair to hang loosely over your shoulders and chest, you heard a knock on the door and spotted two pairs of curious eyes peaking in. It was Seonghwa alongside your mother, whose eyes were puffy and nose was red from assumingly crying. The arm of Seonghwas tall form reached around her shoulder, trying to hold her steady. The tailor left after the finishing touches and your mother crashed into your arms, crying uncontrollably into your hair.

She sobbed so much it was hard to understand everything she was saying, other than that she was sorry and that she would miss you. You looked at your tall brother for advice on how you should react or what to say, but he just shrugged and extended a hand to pull her away from you. The longer you were trapped in her shaky arms, the final realisation grew larger and larger, that you would have to leave your family and not be able to see them for a very long time.

„Don’t worry about me mother. I can handle myself. And I will sure to visit when it’s possible... And I still have to teach Seonghwa how to shoot a dove with an arrow the right way, no?“ you joked half heartedly in a try to make her smile and take the strange negativity which was tangible in the air, away. It was an inside joke between your sibling and you, but your mother understood what you meant. But the lack of a response just supported your fear that you would not be able to go hunting ever again.

Seonghwa nudged you, as he held out his hand for you to take. Your mother waved you off, telling you to go ahead and not let them wait since she was still trying to collect herself from her excessive crying. Once again, the only reliable person in your life was next to you, pushing the stinging fact about this being the last time you will be with him for who knows how long - maybe even forever - to the side. They really took everything you had away from you, just to save themselves, and a strange, bitter taste formed in your mouth, starting to rethink the entire situation. The unconditional love slowly started to wear off, and this was only the start of it.

Before you turned the last corner into the main hall you stopped and pulled your brother back a few steps to make sure the others didn’t recognise him before you spoke your mind. Clearly hearing how your father was currently chirping a cheerful conversation with the family of your future husband as a distraction for their long wait, and how you hated the sound of that already.

“Can you promise me one thing? Not as the Prince, but as my brother?” You whispered after you caged his rough hands innetween your thin fingers and held his fist against your chest, for him to feel your heartbeat. Nodding in reply, watching your movements very closely, as if he tried to memorise this for him to remember forever. “Promise me that I will be able to see you again after I leave. And promise me you make sure the kingdom stays safe. I want to come back and rule with you once the time is right...”

His expression turned soft, and he pulled your small body into a brief hug, murmuring quietly, “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep Y/N, but I will promise you with my entire heart that I will try my best. This is your home, no matter what happens, and I will always be here for you.” Tears were about to appear in your eyes, but as the two of you heard the dark voice of your father shout for your attendance, you quickly pulled away and swallowed the tears down.

Following closely after Seonghwa, stepping into view for the strangers to eye you curiously. You stood next to his throne and kept your gaze fixed on the floor, nor daring to look at them yet. As your father introduced you to his family, the stranger, which you assumed to be your future man, took a step forward and tapped his foot lightly against the stone cold floor, showing his impatience roughly. Still not daring to look him into the eyes, but he came closer and closer towards you, when he suddenly went down on one knee and pulled a giant diamond ring out of the back pocket of his slacks.

“Let’s make this quick, yes?” were his first and only words, and you finally looked him into his eyes, immediately regretting all your previous life choices.

His hair was dark brown and parted down the middle, his eyes held the fires of hell and the clouds of heaven in them at the same time. His high cheek bones and sharp jawline only adding to the attractiveness of him. His expression was unreadable, since you were indeed looking at a stranger. The longer you inspected his face and body, you assured yourself that you have never seen this man before, which was at least a little thing that made everything a little less worse. His hand snatched your wrist pretty forcefully, which almost made you jolt, but keeping the control over your body and balance, you stood straight. His gentle fingers fidgeting with your small hand, pushing the cold metal of the ring onto your ringfinger, and placing a soft but rushed kiss onto the back of your hand.

“It’s official then. Time to say goodbye.” The older man behind your fiancée spoke. You looked around for Seonghwa, but his gaze told you to stay still and not do anything crazy. Turning towards your father and bowing at the hip, you waved him goodbye, and did the same to your brother. This is happening. This is really happening. What am I gonna do now? rushed thoughts made you forget your surroundings for a moment, and before you even realized, you were on your way out of your home, Yeosang snaking his arm around your waist to guide you out.

Leading you out of your home and into their coach which was pulled by four big, brown horses. Taking a seat on the back, with Yeosang plopping down right next to you, and the proximity making your palms sweaty. Anxiety was bubbling in your stomach and through every other part of your body, and you didn’t dare to say something yet. Even if you were marrying their son and were going to stay with them for a very long time, you felt uneasy about everything. Like something was wrong... What were you going to do with all your time? All the things that kept you busy were all cancelled. Should you read? Cook? What do they even expect from this whole thing, other than the help your parents depended on? Questions over questions, no answers. In due time, you would get the answers, but first you needed to learn how to open your mouth Infront of them.

A threatening, long silence laid over the two of you, but after some time had passed, Yeosang clears his throat before he starts talking: “It should only take us four more hours until we arrive in Sangju. You may lean on me if you want to rest.” He suggested, and you eyed him, still unsure. Shaking your head after a few moments, declining his offer, “I’m well, thank you.”. You let your eyes wander over the landscapes to make him stop looking at you. Thankfully it worked.

After a long journey, your travel route finally came to a stop at what would be Yeosang’s family home… And now also your home. When you tried to stand up, you stumbled for a few steps, before regaining your balance again. Looking around you, his parents were watching you already. His father wore a strict look on his face, but his mother was shining, showing her teeth to you and trying to seem welcoming towards you. Even if it was just a tiny act of kindness, you felt a little less lost on your shoes. Your future husband stood next to you as he entered the giant gates of their castle.

“We should head to the main hall, for our two love birds to sign the marriage certificate.” His father exclaimed while pasting through the giant corridors. You looked a bit lost in the giant building, yet the sudden placement of the princes’ hand back on the small of your waist calmed your nerves for what ever reason. It might be from the physical touch, since what else would it be? He was still a stranger.

Shortly after you signed the documents, they brought you to the quarters you were to share with the prince, or now your husband, you started wondering for how long they have been planning this. Obtaining these sort of documents would take several weeks at least. Starting to think of the true intentions of these people. What could they possibly want from you? Money? No, they surely had enough... maybe fame? But still, what was your part in that? You were renowned for being “not suitable for marriage”, so yet again - where was the catch? Walking up and down the giant bedroom in a hurry, your thoughts were overwhelming you. Only did you wish to be able to seek Seonghwa’s advice, or be able to run away. It was all way too sketchy.

“May I come in, my grace?” Yeosang asked, the door being opened only a few inches to peek in. Noticing your distressed state, but choosing not yet to comment on it. You slowed your hasty footsteps and sat down on the foot of the bed. He sat down beside you, like you were sitting in your travel here, but now you were alone. But that made you feel more angsty. Even if you were not married in a formal way, the documents are signed. You were, in fact, husband and wife now.

You sighed deeply, catching his attention again. “Your highness, I believe I do not quite understand what is expected of me as your wife. And I’m worried about the well being of my family. I gave up all my hopes and dreams for the future to come here, so they may be saved.” You explained. He eyed you carefully, your words were thick with desparation, but the tone in your voice didn’t indicate your emotions about the matter. “Now, Now, my grace, do not mistaken our efforts to help as a way to ruin your future. In fact, I do believe we might have a bright future ahead of us. I am your newly wed husband after all, am I not? Please, I want you make you feel as welcome as possible, let me or anyone know if something is not to your liking. We ought to take care of it.” He announced, before slipping off the bed and heading back outside. Sudden alarm going off in your head:

“Yeosang,” you started, suprising both of you by your informality towards the older man, “I have one request, if I might.” He nodded, turning on his heel to look at you again. “Of course, anything for you, my lady. What is bothering you?”

swallowing down the thick blob of nervousness before continuing with your request: “I don’t know much of the deal between your parents of mine, but can you please ensure me, that my brother will not endear any form of pain or injustice... I wouldn’t be able to look at myself anymore if anything were to happen to him..."

"Now, don’t be so naive, my grace. Our intentions are purely out of charity.” Yeosang swiftly interrupted your ramblings. Taking your gaze off of him and hiding your hand behind the back of your hand, a sob slipped out of your lips.

He stayed still for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Does your dear brother mean a lot to you?” You simply nod your head while collecting yourself again from almost bursting into tears at the mere thought of Seonghwa being in pain. “Seonghwa is everything I have. Had... he was the only one who I could trust and who would understand the, uhm... the scandals revolving our parents. He is truly the only sencire person in my family.” explaining while panting softly, his eyes turned soft after seeing you so vulnerable right infront of him. Taking a few steps back to your direction, cupping your cheek lightly with his big palm, and meeting your gaze. “I will ensure your brothers safety, there will be no need to worry. But now you should rest, we will show you everything that you can do to entertain yourself tomorrow. I will join you shortly.”

After a few moments of intaking the intimacy between you two strangers, he detached himself from you and you felt cold and alone. It made you creeped out at the strong emotions and feelings he errupted inside you. Also wondering if he would take your innocence away from you, since this would be your wedding night. But before you could ask anything else, he stood up and walked out of the bedroom. But regardless the mess inside your mind, his words brought calm to your mind, and you were able to lay down and close your eyes for a short while.

Meanwhile, Yeosang entered his fathers study, interrupting him doing important paperwork:

“It’s about the brother. Take him to Keomgyu, make him marry one of my cousins, but you shan’t kill him. They are aware of thier parents mishaps, but do not support them at all. He could do good for our kingdom, so again: I ask you not to kill him.”

—

#yeosang #ateez #ateez yeosang #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez writing #ateez x reader #ateez angst #yeosang x reader #royal!au #prince yeosang #seonghwa #yeosang angst #I was kinda inspired by bridgerton midway through writing #maybe a part two?

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jaepies · 4 years ago

Text

𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣 - haikyuu!!

oikawa x fem!reader

mafia au

chapter 5 : fate

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

the air was suffocating.

like a thick blanket, it wrapped around you and was intertwining with your mouth; bubbling with putrid sensations. it trapped your airway shut preventing oxygen from entering the complex system of the lungs. you failed to breathe, your hands bound by ragged pieces of fabric that surprisingly halted every move you made.

every second ticked by, every second you grew weaker.

your eyelids felt heavy again, feeling dejected you submitted into the devil's wishes and let slumber sweep you into another fantasy. a world where the circumstances were different and life upheld its joyful status.

fate is a humorous thing, some are blessed with a fate that brings them glory and delight but every once in a while the jokester that is fate plays practical jokes on the lesser people. fate shrouded them with despair. you had accepted that you were simply one of these lesser people, like the sky; death seemed to be looming over your head at every corner you turned.

your poisoned fate was cemented; no escape could be seen so whatever was to befall your way in these fleeting moments - you would accept it with clenched teeth and slap a false smile on.

a rather powerful strike to the face is what gave you a rude awakening. your eyes springing open at the sensation of throbbing, only to view unfamiliar faces peering at you with disgust.

your eyes shot to the perpetrator of the slap, the guilty man made no effort to disguise himself as the bald man had his hand still raised in the air.

his hand had blushed with red colour as an aftereffect of waking you. silence sat on his lips; no words were needed as the frown he displayed spoke all the words for him.

"k-kageyama do you think she can hear us?"

to the left of the dingy room were two juvenile looking boys. one of which had an orange flame for hair and tentatively clung to the taller boy whom you assumed to be the aforementioned 'kageyama'. the young boy was evidently discomposed by your presence which was ironic since they were the one who captured you in the first place.

"idiot, she's awake of course she can. i thought you were dumb but i didn't realise you were this dumb."

"kageyama, you shouldn't say things like that to your friends and you aren't exactly the brightest star in the world either."

"you aren't even making sense right now? at least i'm not some crazy maniac who bounces off the walls all day, every day-"

"do you guys ever shut up? you are both as dumb as one another and that's final. you both are freaks who deserve each other."

a blonde boy with glasses interrupted the bickering pair, clearly bored at their antics as he wore a displeased scowl on his face.

"everyone please calm down, we have a guest present. we should at least be courteous and introduce ourselves."

the three students fell silent at the older man's stern voice and you did too. terror coursed through your veins causing you to freeze. one quick glance and these boys seemed harmless however if there was anything that you have learnt in the previous days is that there is always more than what meets the eye.

*cough* oikawa *cough*

the man spoke with such conviction that a small child could cry upon hearing his voice.

suddenly it clicked.

they appeared to be around the same age as you and caught you on your way to meeting up with another gang. when entering the gymnasium, it was like a ghost town. tumbleweed might as well have rolled along the slippery floor.

the aoba johsai volleyball team had been played with.

these boys were karasuno, the gang you were supposed to have had a peaceful and hassle-free transaction with.

"i guess there's no need to introduce ourselves then. you seemed to have figured it out yourself, smart girl you are."

when preparing for the transaction, a first-year called kunimi who you had gotten to know in the short space of time had written a profile on each of the members of karasuno. Iwaizumi ensured that you had it memorised like a second language.

it all came rushing back to you and these unfamiliar faces became clearer than they were a few seconds ago. the man who spoke to you held the same position as oikawa as the leader of the group, he was no other than sawamura daichi.

you were never able to grasp the ability to mask your emotions, daichi must have been able to pick up your abrupt hostility as a reaction to the epiphany.

"what do you want?"

the bitter-tone rolling naturally off your tongue, you kept your guard up.

the information on these men was limited as they were a slowly rising gang. with the various member changes, it was a frustration trying to gather knowledge on the fallen crows.

"we don't really want anything. only for the district to know that we are back."

the words were dripping in venom, you could tell that daichi enjoyed watching you squirm.

the toxicity being emitted by room was overriding your senses and it was taking everything in your will-power to maintain your composure in front of the gang.

"but why this way?"

"where's the fun in just assassinating people for power's sake? the most pleasurable way is to take an object so precious to someone that they are forced to do whatever you want. that's how you gain leverage."

bile steadily crept up in your throat, ready to make its exit if daichi were to utter one more syllable. subconsciously you had placed all your bets onto oikawa, hoping that he would storm in and rescue you.

"god that's sick and twisted. i hope karma slaps you in the face before i do. "

"oh sweetheart~"

hearing the nickname was like a punching bag to stomach. it disgusted you at how sickly sweet it sounded, at how easily he said it. behind the smirk he held was a sadistic and warped shell of a man who made you feel nauseated to the stomach.

"you have no idea who you have gotten yourself involved with. we are merely the tip of the iceberg, once you fall down this rabbit hole there is no crawling out of it. consider this experience a warning."

"i know what i have signed up for. since i have met you, i have met the worst already. there's not much more which the world could throw my way."

"you can try and fool me with your tough girl act-"

you could feel the hot breath of daichi fanning your face as he lowered his stance to your height. his sly gaze pierced right through you, creating an even more uncomfortable atmosphere. you turned your head as he spoke, not wanting your brain to endure the pain of even looking at the corrupt man.

"-but i see right through it."

droplets of spit took refuge on your hair as his words were accompanied by saliva escaping his dirty mouth.

then you realised,

you were a lesser person. fate did not want to treat you like you were royalty. instead, it thought of you as a dismal teenager whose life could easily be disposed of.

you were a damsel in distress with no prince charming coming to protect you and fight in your honour. no matter how hard you tried to fool yourself into believing that you were not alone. the reality was more genuine than the empty words which oikawa had spoken to you.

you were tired. this whole night had been incredibly taxing on your brain and regrettably, Daichi was right, you were afraid.

so afraid and fragile.

you were just going to shut your eyes and put your mind at ease. in time you would surely meet your demise...

it was as if lightning had struck the door,

an ear-splitting thud was heard from the mouldy door and a cloud of smoke had been created as a consequence of the intrusion. the silhouettes who were the cause of the disruption stood concealed by the fine, yellow dust.

maybe,

just maybe,

fate had allowed you a little more time.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

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digitalworldbound · 3 years ago

Note

koukari 24 or kenkari 30? sorry for the challenge :p but if you're not comfortable with the pairings, go ahead with takari! :3

Pairing: ken x hikari

Summary: “I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!” (#30 from the prompt list)

Author’s Notes: I was revisiting my old fanfiction from when I was thirteen, and it reignited my love for cheesy AUs. So, I present to you my first ever KenKari content (I apologize if it is bad, but I've tried my best!)

on the corner of thompson rd. and fifth street stood a quaint structure with walls that appeared to sag and well-worn stairs. a seemingly hand-painted sign hung above the door way read : ♡ book 'n' brew ♡

in full honestly, the crooked hearts would of been enough to draw ken in completely had he not been on a search for a new coffee joint. earlier that september morning, a bug placed strategically in his starbucks cup stirred up the motivation to search for a more tasteful choice in brew.

mindless trotting about lead him to the worn, brick steps. many customers were slightly deterred by the haggard appearance of the building, but ken thought otherwise.

it was charming and smelled of home. plus, the little pink hearts were hard to dismiss.

pulling the smooth handle and trapping the chilly air behind him, ken opened the door and stepped in.

the store was quite small, as expected, but seemingly transported him away. warm fairy lights hung on the edges of tall, oak bookcases. the lights made ken’s dark cerulean eyes dance with wonder. while the oak cases were aging, they were sturdy. books lined the shelves in every way imaginable. when the books filled up the shelves vertically, the left-overs were placed haphazardly in the spaces between, whether that be on top of, in front of, or behind other books. the smell of well-loved pages filtered through the air, mixing with the smell of freshly brewed something.

the coffee! ken reminded himself.

humming a mindless tune under his breath, he made is way to the countered that was nestled in between two bookcases. plants, napkins and even more books littered the counter top. the owner, however, was nowhere to be found.

"hello?" ken’s crystalline voice called out.

"how may i help you?"

ken made a noise of surprise, not expecting the light, feminine voice to come from behind him.

a girl emerged from behind one of the bookcases, her hair swept to the side and held in place with a barrette. she looked ethereal in her loose dress, the extra fabric making her look like a bird ready for flight. she coughed quietly, her amber eyes drilling into his own with curiosity.

blush erupted like wildfire across ken’s cheeks. the tips of his ears burned in embarrassment. he was caught staring, but the stranger’s beauty was disarming.

"so?" the owner lightly suggested, a gentle reminder that ken still had yet to respond to her initial question.

"oh, yes! i was wondering if you had any coffee?" he finally spoke up. all too late, he realized his mistake. a flush rose to his neck, and ken had half the mind to run out of the store and never return.

raising an arched eyebrow, the stranger purposely flitted her eyes over to the obviously placed coffee pots, before turning her attention back to ken.

"hm, i would say that i do." she chuckled. her dress gently swayed behind her as she slipped behind the counter. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled in his direction.

"obviously." the boy muttered under his breath, embarrassment consuming him alive.

"pick your poison."

ken pretended to ponder his options. on a normal day - which this wasn't - he could always go for a medium roast coffee with creamer and two sugars, but today felt inexplicably different.

"i think i might go with some oolong tea today, if it isn't any trouble."

"of course not, silly. it's one of my personal favorites." the barista smiled. she turned around, completely engrossing herself in the task at hand while ken decided to explore the shop.

his fingers danced on the spines of novels and novellas, enjoying the way they felt beneath his fingertips. as a child, ken never had the attention span for reading. he was always distracted by the butterflies or colorful markers or dandelions. these things were real, and for him, the words in the books weren't.

consumed by his thoughts and the texture of the spines, ken drowned out the shop owner's declaration of warm drinks.

when the surprisingly small hand cupped the boy's shoulder, he jumped, knocking several books from their perch.

"oh no, i'm so sorry. usually, i'm not this clumsy." he offered, quickly picking up the fallen objects and shoving them haphazardly back onto the shelf. anxiety swirled in stomach; he felt like an absolute fool.

the owner simply smiled and pushed the small mug into ken's cold fingers. how long had it been since he stumbled into the shop? ten minutes? an hour? the thoughts were washed away with the first sip of tea, as the warm, comforting flavor washed away the flush on his cheeks.

"my name's hikari," the mystery barista offered, turning towards the door behind the cluttered counter space, "yell for me if you need anything else." she smiled, then disappeared.

"i'm ken ichijouji!" he called after hikari, but it was too late. her delicate frame had already slipped away, disappearing into further into the shelves.

with a barely distinguishable pout on his pink lips, ken sipped his oolong tea languidly and perched himself in recliner nestled into a dusty corner. the cloth on the seat had once been beautiful, ken was sure. years of patrons had worn away the bright red velvet into a thread-bare pink. it was s comfy, so ken snuggled himself deeper into the chair.

glancing around, he browsed the titles nearest to him.

viva by e.e cummings

pride and prejudice by jane austen

star girl by jerry spinelli

the hobbit by j.r.r. tolkien

hikari apparently had an interest in most things, not unlike ken. they just had interests in different places.

losing interest in the books quickly, ken demolished the luke-warm beverage and placed his dirty mug (that he now realized adorned the same little pink hearts as the sign that hung above the entrance way) next to the coffee pot and hurriedly yelled out his goodbyes.

he closed the old, wooden door, walked down the brick steps, and turned onto thompson rd. his stride was strong and his gaze was fixed onto some imaginative point on the horizon.

ken was on a mission.

the rest of his week was rough, even by ken's standards. book 'n' brew had been closed for the past five days, much to his dismay. ken had inherited the ability to burn water and couldn't be trusted to make his own tea. with the name-brand fix no longer being an option, five whole days without caffeine had put ken on edge.

it was a rather dreary sunday. the rain fell in sheets and drenched the ken down too his sock-less toes. inky black hair plastered to his forehead; his eyelashes had already clumped together. his wet sneakers lead him down the familiar cement of thompson rd. and his heart leap into his throat when he saw the lights on in the infamous bookstore.

the warm atmosphere was once again barren of any patrons (besides ken, of course). hikari was much easier to spot, given that she was directly behind the counter. ken’s heart-rate picked up; he was almost giddy.

hikari's hair was swept to the side again, the ends barely dancing across her shoulders. her billowy dress had been replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. an apron hung loosely off her thin frame. she wore the tea stains like accessories. his heart gave another weird flutter.

however, before he could question his reaction, ken became far too preoccupied with the smells of the quaint shop. cinnamon wafted around his ears while cocoa assaulted his nostrils.

the owner physically perked up when the wind chimes above the door sang a song, signaling the first customer of the day.

rain dripped from his clothes as ken walked towards the delicious aromas while mulling over the half-baked plan that he attempted to conceive a week prior.

it wasn't much. he just thought that hikari was impossibly cute and wanted an excuse to strike up a seemingly casual conversation. the only problem that presented itself was the fact that ken absolutely despised reading.

so, during his caffeine withdrawal, ken invested a part of his meager wages into a hoard of "spark notes" books. these were easier to understand and got straight to the point, anyways. every morning of his coffee-less week began with a literary classic. much to his dismay, the plots bored him to tears. lovers would fight and makeup, enemies would always become friends. books were too predictable.

nevertheless, when the shop was finally reopened, ken had the basic knowledge of not one, but five(ish) novels to use as conversation starters. he wanted to be prepared to keep her interest, no matter how small his understanding of the material.

"hello, hikari!" ken chirped, a bright smile spreading across his wind-nipped cheeks.

"good morning, ken ichijouji, how have you been?" though she was talking to him, her eyes never left the countertop she was cleaning. the shadows under her eyes did not go unnoticed, but ken decided against bringing it up.

" i'm great! i've been put off, though, as your shop hasn't been open in nearly a week."

hikari chuckled darkly, her eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments. "don't worry about that. i'm here now. would you like anything to sip on or any novels to escape into today?"

ken was slightly confused by the unusual turn hikari's behavior. her voice was no longer sweet, but laden with exhaustion. however, he let none of this deter him from his mission.

"yes, please. i would like a coffee with creamer and two and a half sugars, please."

the blue-eyed boy watched intently as hikari made his drink. In an effort to bring a smile to her face, ken joked that his preferred his coffee the color of his sun-kissed skin. despite how stupid it sounded, her cheeks warmed as she giggled. looking like an idiot was worth it if it meant that hikari would laugh like that.

"so," ken began as the silence settled in, "have you read any good books lately?" he took a quick sip of his coffee and let the warmth sink to his icy toes. september was almost over, but the chill of october was already creeping around the corner.

the corner of hikari's mouth twitched, and ken’s heart soared when he knew he made the correct choice.

"hm," the young woman started, her body relaxed against the cluttered surface of the counter., "i had you pegged as more of a 'movies-are-better-than-books' type of guy." her elbow grazed a stack of books that were balanced precariously on the edge.

"ah, well, of course not! i have loved reading since primary school." ken stuttered out. his face was a shade of deep red, resembling the worn-out velvet of the chair he was sat in. the lie sat uneasily at the pit of his stomach, but ken pushed it aside.

"well, to answer your question, i just finished the book thief by markus zusak." by now, a smile had warmed up hikari’s amber eyes, brightening the mood. rain still splattered against the shop windows, but the pair paid little mind.

"what was it about?" inquired ken. while he had no interest in reading, he certainly had an interest in whatever hikari was talking about. her slow, languid voice soothed him.

hikari eagerly rambled on and on about the characters and plot, being careful to only tease at the spoilers. ken stared intently into her eyes. he didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but he loved every minute of her voice ringing in his ears.

the coffee sat abandoned in his lap, warm long gone and chilly. the raven-haired boy took a drawn out sip, absentminded. furrowed eyebrows and a quirk of the month made hikari giggle in the midst of her story-telling.

once hikari’s story lulled to an end, ken began to talk about the books he didn't really read. he steered away from specifics and danced around with the big ideas. though her attention was divided behind between making herself a cup of tea and ken’s pride and prejudice synopsis, she seemed at ease.

"you remind me of Lydia Bennet, actually.” hikari’s hair whipped around, her eyes wide with surprise. ken was too preoccupied with the speech he prepared, one that he was sure would enthrall her. “you have that aura about you.”

“i have the aura of girl that would run away with a grown man at the age of fifteen?” the incredulousness in her voice snapped ken from his coffee-induced stupor. He hands shook. oh god, i should have read the book.

“the sparks notes didn’t mention that part.” his mouth reveals him before his brain can put a stop to it. “oh, god, i’ve ruined everything. i can’t talk to cute people, okay? i don’t know how to flirt!” his absolute, all-consuming panic must have been obvious from the way the warmth crept across his face.

her giggle caught him off guard. “how can you laugh at a time like this? i just compared you to a mother’s worse nightmare.” ken was miserable, doing his best to disappear into the cushion of the recliner.

“because it was endearing to watch you pretend to know what you’re talking about.” hikari said simply, her cheeks pink.

ken only hummed in response, not trusting his voice to respond. Instead, he basked in the warm atmosphere and tried to gain the inertia to take himself to work. while they sat in comfortable silence, mulling in the conversation, hikari leaned down and pried the empty ceramic mug from ken’s now-cold fingertips.

the contact sent a shiver down his spine, his heartrate skipping sporadically in his chest. he was on fire.

and ken knew.

he knew by the blush that rose in the girl’s cheeks, and the look of confusion still in her eyes. ken knew that coffee was good, but it had never tasted better than when he was with her. he had never tried so hard to gain the attentions of the girl, never expecting himself to be willing to do research on a subject that didn't interest him just for the sake of conversation.

the realization shook him to his core.

ken knew that he was falling for her.

so he did what he was best at.

he ran.

"oh my, look at the time. i am going to be late for my shift. it's been good. thanks for the coffee." he slammed a wad of money on the counter and rushed to the door, wind chimes tinkling after him.

hikari's goodbyes were caught in her throat.

#kenkari #ken ichijouji #hikari yagami #digimon

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Apple Of My Pie (5) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story Chapter 5.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers; angst, very little fluff

Rating: suggested 18+

Trigger Warnings: swearing, slight anxiety, verbal fight, generic allusions to sex.

A/N: Hello my cupcakes! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: As Jin and Grace grow more intimate, Buttercup realises she needs a way out of her situation, and Namjoon and Jeongguk offer her just that. However, as the events develop, she understands that her decision needs to be even more drastic. Jeongguk teaches Seokjin a very tough lesson — maybe the toughest of them all.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Allusions to sex; accidental overhearing. Seokjin is kind of a jerk, Jeongguk is very angry at him. Verbal fight. Buttercup feels slightly anxious/panics at the thought of going back to the apartment.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

If you’d like some company, here is the music companion (Spotify only, sorry 😔)

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

There were things you never thought you would have to do, things that made you realise the absurdity of your position, the complete stupidity of the circumstances.

Real people don’t need to handle this. Real people live banal lives, date, fall in love, break up. Or get married, have kids, grow up and grow old together.

Real people aren’t awake at four am because their crush’s date is mewling from the opposite side of the apartment.

You didn’t want to ask yourself questions.

You wanted to sleep and possibly wake up cold. That is, dead.

She mewled. Of course, not actually cat sounds but rather that kind of small, shy squeals that usually mean “I’m shy but I love whatever this person is doing”.

You didn’t allow yourself to dig into that.

You just turned to the other side and pressed the spare pillow against your head, trying to mute the sounds — and maybe mute your thoughts in the process.

Maybe accidentally suffocate yourself.

It was ridiculous.

This had happened about a month ago, with reversed roles — you being the squealer and Seokjin being the unfortunate listener.

You wondered whether he had felt just like you were feeling at that moment.

You thought about wearing your headphones and blasting some music. You thought about rushing out of the apartment and smashing the door on your way out.

You knew you had no one to call, no one who could rescue you at four am on a winter night, sheltering you from the shards of your heart precipitating and stabbing your guts.

Maybe you were allucinating. Maybe it was the sound of your pulse getting too loud because you didn’t trust yourself breathing without emitting a sob.

No, it was the headboard. There was no other way to explain the thumping.

You turned and grabbed your phone, sending a hopeless shout in the void. Just a text to the one most likely to answer, even though the chances were pretty thin.

Are you awake? Perhaps?

The thumping subdued.

Your vision blurred as you stared and stared, occasionally tapping the screen and praying for a miracle.

You thought you had fallen asleep, trapped in a nightmare, when a small bubble appeared.

On the hunt. We’re just back from Mulbreigh field. I guess you’re home?”

You shook yourself up and got moving, not even caring to keep quiet. The thumping had resumed, and so had the mewling.

At Ginger’s in five.

Gotcha.

You did exit the apartment in a few minutes, grabbing just the bare necessities, and closing the door quietly.

By now you were familiar with nightly runaways.

And you were also familiar with the trio headed toward you.

“Buttercup, is that you?” A calm, familiar voice asked.

“Joon?”

“Yeah, it’s us. We have just one field left.” He said. “We’re hoping to get the last one in time for the meteor shower.”

You raised your eyebrows. “There’s a meteor shower tonight?”

The other man at Namjoon’s side was a vet from a city nearby, who occasionally helped him track new wild animals that inhabited the area. “Yes. At around five am. It will be barely visible, but it will be there. Nice to see you, Buttercup.”

“Hello Marcus, always a pleasure.” You said kindly, still shaking your head at the nickname. Shortly after, you noticed the third man greeting you. “Hi Buttercup!”

“Hello Guk!” You said. “How many did you find?”

“We found three owls and got them chipped and registered. And we found a new fox, just out of Mulbreigh. We’re going to track him or her soon, hopefully. No wolves, fortunately.”

You smiled. “That’s good news!” You said enthusiastically, thinking about how the farmer would have menaced those. The four of you walked toward the last location, taking a long path stretching north.

“We’re hoping to find deers, honestly. Remember when we found that doe, last year? Apparently she found a way to remove her tracker and we’re hoping we can keep her monitored, just in case she has more fawns this year.” Marcus explained, at which you nodded in interest.

Staying focused allowed you to remove some thoughts from your mind, but at the same time you kept yourself out of their way, letting the experts work, following them from a distance as they combed the field and placed pheromones signals around the area, hoping to attract the doe to the trees near the field, where it was easier to find her traces and where it was potentially easier to catch her.

“There’s no point going on here,” commented Marcus. “We can only wait. It might take weeks.”

Namjoon huffed and nodded. “Oh, there!” He said, pointing up. A white sign resembling a scratch slashed the horizon in the west, Jeongguk whipping his head in the direction, his pretty eyes widening in wonder as he saw one more shooting star zoom through the sky lighting up at dawn in such delicate shades, from rose to periwinkle to deep royal blue.

For a moment you stared at the sky, feeling its immensity, peace and beauty heal you slowly and steadily. How could such tiny human matters affect its infinity? You let your eyes drown in the greatness of everything, with the snowcaps rimmed in gold in the distance, and the meteors becoming invisible as the sky finally became too bright.

“Guk, Buttercup, why don’t you head home while me and Marcus drive back at the cabin and finish up the paperwork?” Namjoon suggested, by now extremely used to his routine.

Jeongguk looked intermittently at you and Namjoon, adorably confused before he nodded.

“Okay.” He agreed.

You smiled timidly before thanking him, the two of you starting your walk back to town. It was a thirty minute trek, at worst, but you were both fast walkers and in twenty-five you reached his small house. Bibby, his large, scary dog — who of course is a sweetheart, just like his owner — welcomed both of you, the oversized puppy throwing himself at you and barking just once before Jeongguk shushed him.

“How come you joined us?” Jeongguk asked, uncapping his orange juice bottle and pouring a glass, offering you some while you shook your head and declined politely.

You crossed your arms, your stance becoming defensive. You fidgeted and tried to speak, starting a couple times before stopping and starting again, trying to build an actual sentence.

Jeongguk looked at you and waited patiently. He was familiar with the blabbering, stuttering and reformulating.

“Okay. Don’t say this to Yoongi, but… Yeah, he took Grace home last night— That is, he brought her to the apartment and they… Slept together?” You said, your voice so squeaky by the time you said the final word.

“And by ‘sleeping’ you mean everything but, right?” Jeongguk asked tactfully.

You nodded and looked at the floor, busying yourself petting Bibby.

“I’m so sorry, Buttercup.” He said, coming close to you and caressing your back soothingly.

You didn’t have the energies to cry. You probably would, in a while, after waking up.

“You need some sleep, don’t you, Buttercup?” Jeongguk asked, patting your head.

Again you replied wordlessly, moving your head in approval.

“Bibby is a great nap buddy, and I can get the futon ready and let you sleep there.” He reassured you, already fluffing up the pillows and grabbing an extra blanket.

“I’d like to sleep on the sofa, please?” You said, sitting down and removing your shoes, Bibby immediately getting interested in your wiggling toes.

“Oh, you’d like that?” He asked in surprise, “try it first, I can still get the futon ready if you don’t like this old guy.” He joked about the piece of furniture.

You laid on your side, wiggling a little as you found the right position. “Can do.” You said with a barely-there smile. “Thank you, Guk.”

“It’s okay.” He said, throwing the blanket on top of you. ��This one is just for guests. I washed it last weekend, don’t worry.” He reassured you.

Knowing Jeongguk, you didn’t even mind. He is a neat freak and a tattoo artist: cleanliness means everything to him. “Can I seriously keep Bibby?” You asked, soft eyed.

He beamed and nodded. “He only sleeps on the sofa.” He said proudly and, as if following his owner’s praise, Bibby climbed on the cushions, curling up in the space before you and laying his head on your arm, using it as a pillow.

You giggled and scratched the spot behind his ear.

“Ask me if you need anything.” Jeongguk murmured. “I’ll leave my door open, just in case you need help or something.” He commented sweetly, closing the blinds to the several windows before walking to the kitchen and coming back to you, placing a bottle of water close to you.

He noticed Bibby was already asleep and he caressed the dog’s head before whispering “sleep tight”.

You heard him leave the room. You closed your eyes, feeling Bibby’s lungs inflate and deflate regularly, his heartbeat strong, his short fur velvety and relaxing under your fingertips.

You fell asleep like a baby.

Waking up meant a lot of things happening altogether.

Realising Bibby was in your arms.

Realising you were on Jeongguk’s sofa.

Realising you were heartbroken and that the idea of going back home nauseated you so deeply you couldn’t even remotely consider it.

Jeongguk greeted you from the kitchen. “You’re up, Buttercup!” He cheered, while Bibby turned around and placed his big head under your chin, shading his eyes. He always marvelled you with his curious manners. “It’s midday, would you like brunch?”

You sniffed the air. Bacon and eggs.

“Yes, please.”

Bibby seemed to follow your lead, sniffing the air and running to his owner, acting way faster than you.

“Okay, what do we wanna do?” Jeongguk asked once you were both seated at the kitchen table.

You ate some food, chewing quietly as you thought. You took your time.

“Honestly, I don't feel like going home, I guess.” You said, staring at your dish. You felt a bit lost.

“We can hang out. Watch TV, meet the guys, do anything you want.” Jeongguk said.

“I was thinking of… No, it's okay, I should go home.”

“But you don't want to.” Jeongguk opposed.

“No, but I don't want to go back later tonight and find myself dreading sleeping in my room.” You said. You couldn't explain the emptiness in your stomach as you thought of the room.

“You know you can stay here as long as you want, right? I have a spare room. We can put the futon there.” He said touching your hand.

That small sentence felt like the water threatening to drown you was slowly lowering.

“I don't want to abuse your kindness.” You admitted shyly, softly.

“I am your friend. It is my duty to help you” He reassured you.

You mulled over your various possibilities. “Okay. But I'd like to go home and grab some stuff. Maybe they're not around.” You considered, looking at Jeongguk doubtfully.

“It's okay. We can go together.”

You exhaled in relief.

Standing in front of the apartment door, you took a deep breath, Jeongguk rubbing his hand between your shoulder blades, over your jacket.

You could already hear them laughing and chatting.

You slipped the keys into the lock and opened the door.

“I'll wait here, yes?” Jeongguk reassured you.

You nodded and went in, walking to your room hesitantly, only to be completely overwhelmed by the sight in the kitchen.

Jin was standing behind Grace, helping her prepare his special avocado sandwich, an elaborate mug topped with whipped cream and crushed almonds waiting beside her while the breakfast table was filled with any kind of breakfast and brunch food one could only dream of.

However, what truly unsettled you was Grace, wearing an oversized shirt — Jin's — bare-legged, with Granny's thick handmade socks covering her feet and calves.

Seokjin said something in her ear and she giggled cutely, throwing her head back and leaning into his shoulder.

They ignored you completely, caught in their happy bubble, while you hid slightly.

You refused to hold on, rushing back to the front door.

Jeongguk spoke softly. “Where's your stuff?”

You shook your head.

“I'm coming with you.” He said, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside, closing the door noisily.

“Hello, we're here.” He called loudly, bringing the two of you to the kitchen.

Seokjin's eyes zeroed in to the place the man's voice had come from, spotting you instead.

So this is it, he thought.

He. Grace.

You. Jeongguk.

Jeongguk?

His jaw contracted.

“Buttercup came by to grab some things. It won't take long, will it, sweets?”

You widened your eyes at him and shook your head. “Yes, sure.”

You almost ran to your bedroom, picking up the most basic stuff to spend a night out and to head off to lessons the following morning.

In the bathroom, you collected your toothbrush and beauty products before returning to the kitchen, your bag ready.

“Good to go, sweets?” He questioned, looking at you with his expressive, gleeful eyes.

You nodded and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Let's go.”

Jeongguk turned towards Jin and Grace. “Have a nice afternoon, goodbye!” He greeted, letting you wave at the two before dragging you out, not before offering Seokjin a smug grin and winking.

Wearing that mask took a toll on him. He hated what Seokjin had done to you through the years, acting like a protective older brother without being one. He hated that the man kept you emotionally busy and never let you out of his influence. Most of your past relationships had dramatically been brought to an end by Seokjin's asphyxiating presence, by the incapability of your partners to rival with your best friend.

He had ruined you for everyone else, and Jeongguk couldn't find any words to define how cruel that was.

“Are you doing okay, Buttercup?” He asked.

You smiled a bit coldly.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” He opened the door and let you in, Bibby welcoming the both of you.

“It's okay. They've been dating for more than a month now. He's been by himself for a long time–”

“But he had you!” Jeongguk objected as he took off his jacket.

Your mouth stretched sadly. “Not like that.”

Jeongguk scrunched his nose in disappointment. “Okay. You know I’ve had the biggest crush over you. And we know that by now it’s just water under the bridge. And maybe I never told you but it was so easy to get over you — no offence — since to me, actually to all of us, you and Jin have always belonged to each other. It’s canon. Anyone else would be wrong for the two of you. Obviously.”

You completely ignored Jeongguk’s mention of those old feelings. You already knew; it was all water under the bridge — just like he said — and the two had discussed it years ago. Instead, you focused on the belonging part. “He has Grace now. They’ve been dating for what? Six weeks?”

“He’s been in love with you for four years!” Jeongguk said, slightly upset.

“Well, apparently he didn’t do a great job of showing that! And it doesn’t matter now. He has Grace.” You repeated.

“The two of you are so stupidly dumb, I need to call Yoongi.” Jeongguk said, absolutely frustrated.

Silence lingered heavy in the room, like a thick fog. “Don’t call Yoongi, please.” You said, sitting on the sofa and curling up in a ball. “He’ll scold me and then snap at Jin and then Spice will kill all of us for stressing him and interrupting their kinky Sunday afternoon.”

Jeongguk startled and put down the phone. “Kinky Sunday afternoon? Is that a thing?”

“With Spice, anything is a thing, especially if it means alone time with Yoongi.” You explained, scratching your nose and hugging Bibby as he got on the sofa.

“Okay. Let’s think about happier, less traumatising things. Do you wanna watch some TV? I have some Disney DVDs from when Namjoon comes over. No Bambi and Dumbo because those make him cry.” Jeongguk said, exposing his friend shamelessly. “And I don’t want to pay for Disney plus, Yoongi would disown me and I would never tattoo him anymore and I don’t want that.”

You giggled, completely endeared. “Do you think you have Tangled?”

“Oh, yes!” Jeongguk checked the case and placed the CD in his PlayStation. “Namjoon loves Pascal. The chameleon.” Jeongguk gushed, sitting on the sofa, switching on a small lamp. “Oh, would you like some popcorn?” He asked, ever friendly and welcoming.

You smirked before nodding.

Pausing the film, he dashed to the kitchen, getting a bag into the microwave and coming back five minutes later with a large bowl, the whole room smelling of salted butter.

You hummed in approval and settled down, Bibby miraculously uninterested in the snack. He restarted the film and your mind got completely absorbed by that.

Seokjin was confused.

He had accompanied Grace home, and now he sat in an empty room — an empty house —, looking at the opposite end of the table, where you weren’t sitting.

Did you sleep with Jeongguk for revenge?

Did you maybe talk to him and he made his move and you said ‘why not’, just like you had with that dude almost a month ago?

Maybe you liked him. Maybe you had always liked him and the two of you had confessed — he had a different gleam in his eyes and he had called you ‘sweetie’ or some other dumb nickname like that.

He should have confessed. He should have stopped hiding his head in his ass and should have grown a pair and told you, Buttercup, I’m so far gone that I’d be ready to serve you for the rest of my life, hell, I’d even donate you my sperm if your husband was infertile and you wanted kids. I’d even give up a kidney, fuck, I’d give up my heart too for you.

He was a dumb, stupid fucker.

He wrote you a text.

I’m sorry about fucking Grace, please come home.

Erased

Please come home. We need to talk. I’m in love with you.

Erased

Don’t fuck Jeongguk, you can fuck me instead, please.

Erased

He realised he always wrote ‘please’, and the more he went on, the more he needed to add.

He tried to stop overthinking everything and focused on the actual reality of it all.

He stared at your empty seat again.

Are you coming home for dinner?

Sent

The silence felt eternal.

That must be how space rovers feel, he thought, thinking about that tiny robot that wandered over the surface of Mars all alone.

He felt like the whole apartment couldn’t possibly be home anymore.

He shook his head, telling himself he was being melodramatic. After five minutes, he decided to call you. You always answered texts about food! You knew how much it meant to him eating together!

With renewed tenacity, he found your contact at the very top of the list, three A’s added before your name to make sure it always stayed on top of the list.

And he called you.

The beeping sound of the call ringing went on for ages. He swore he could feel his hair grow and his skin wither.

He waited maybe for a bit less than a minute, his mind already knowing that you were upset with him, that you were making him wait and grovel. You were trying to get on his nerves. Most definitely.

The ringing stopped.

“What is it?”

It was Jeongguk.

“Is she with you?” Seokjin asked, cold as ice.

“Yes. Of course.”

“When is she coming home?” Jin asked dryly. He felt ready for a fight.

“When she wants to.” Jeongguk replied equally dryly.

“Give her the phone.”

Jeongguk breathed heavily. He didn’t want to pass the phone to you. Seokjin had no right claiming you like that, using that voice, acting so mean when he was the one at fault. “She’s sleeping.” It was true. You were really sleeping; you had completely crashed at the end of the cartoon, with Bibby keeping you warm and covering you in affection, never leaving your side. After all, some dogs have a sense of smell so fine that they can sniff at their owner’s skin and perceive the hormones making their human happy or sad.

Seokjin waited, trying to calm himself down. It didn’t work. “I bet you’re gloating. You finally have her, don’t you? You must be feeling so smug.”

Jeongguk stretched his neck, keeping his composure. “I don’t have her, okay? She came to me and I gave her space. I gave her somewhere safe—”

“Our home is safe.” Jin growled. “Here is safe.”

“With you breaking her heart by banging that girl you don’t love?”

“She also banged a man she didn’t give a shit about.”

Jeongguk raised his eyebrows. “Did you bang Grace for revenge, then?”

“No. God, I’ve been alone for years, can’t I have one good thing?” Seokjin almost screamed, his frustration spilling over.

“Maybe she banged him to get over you. Maybe she did that because she’s tired of being alone, too.” Jeongguk explained, his tone glacial. His anger was scary — it didn’t explode or break. It froze everything it touched. “You hurt her. The moment you chose Grace, and with every date you went on. When you went to her on Valentine’s, when you banged her the other night. And there’s a difference. The dude she banged? That was just sex. But you and Grace? There are feelings there. That’s the part she can’t stand. This morning, when she saw the two of you in the kitchen? You broke her heart, Jin. She was broken—”

“But you fixed that, didn’t you, sweetie?” He teased, sarcastic and poisonous.

“Stop talking about my feelings for her.” Jeongguk chastised him. “Unlike you, I told her. I told her I had had a crush for her. I told her three years ago and I also told her that my feelings died down once I realised how she looked at you and how you looked at her. And we’re friends, we’re cool. I would never be able to look at her like anything more than a sister.”

Seokjin shut his mouth. He felt horrible. Maybe because he was horrible. He needed your sparkly laugh and your soothing touch. To talk things out about last night. Make everything right again. “Please, convince her to come home.”

Jeongguk tutted. “I won’t. She’ll come if she wants to. At her own time.”

“Jeongguk...” Seokjin begged.

“You both need to move on from this toxic bond. And there’s no way other than separating. Physically first, and emotionally second.” Jeongguk reasoned, repeating something he and Yoongi had discussed a thousand times.

“She is my friend.”

“You’re not hers, though. You are the person she loves, and the person hurting her. She deserves a real chance, away from you.” Jeongguk rubbed the crown of his head. “I have to go. Goodnight.”

He hung up.

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

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bangtan hq #thetruthuntoldnet #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #Baker!seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts blog #Seokjin flatmates!Au #seokjin friends to lovers

42 notes · View notes

hurricanery · 4 years ago

Text

What’s a Soulmate? Pt. 2

Hi! This is part two of my previous fic. Amelink AU- ‘What if Amelia and Link had met at a different time in their lives?’ This part is basically the same timeline, from a different point of view. Thanks so much for reading the last part and for sending feedback! ALSO THIS IS LONGGG. sorry

tw: drug use

-------

Amelia Shepherd is 5 years old when she discovers that nothing is ever promised to you. By definition, she learns uncertainty. That your world can be ripped from right underneath you. The feeling is always there.

Age 5 is a blur for Amelia. She remembers everyone doting on her. Her mom and her sisters and her brother. But, that might not be the right word. She’d learn later that the feeling she was experiencing was suffocating. That’s the word she’d been looking for. The people in her life that were once so blissfully unaware, suddenly so overcareful around her.

By age 7 the suffocating feeling had slowed. Maybe her family had moved on from their need to keep tabs on her. Or maybe they’d genuinely grown tired of her. Either way, the feeling was replaced with a new one. She’d love to fantasize. Especially at night. She’d lay in bed and pretend she wasn’t herself. Staring up above her, she’d imagine the ceiling opening up. And then the roof would be flying off. And she would go with it. Not as a person, but a part of the wind and the clouds. She’d float up to the sky and be with her Dad.

Sometimes, she’d think so hard about this, that there would no longer be feeling associated with it. It would just be reality. And it was numb. When this happened, Amelia would tiptoe out of bed and down the hall toward Derek’s room. Derek was always really good at making her realize that the roof was still there. She was made to realize a lot of things at such a young age. She’d look at her older sister, Nancy, who carried herself in such a stoic way, and realize that pain was better when it was hidden. She’d look at Derek, who flinched at almost every loud noise and sudden movement, and realize that she never wanted to look vulnerable. She’d watch discreetly as her mother sat alone at the kitchen table, spacing out as she sipped her coffee, completely jaded by everything she’d been through in the last couple years. Her parents were soulmates. High school sweethearts. Completely each others’ person. She’d look at her mother now and realize that there was no such thing as soulmates.

_______

Amelia is 9 years old when she starts to feel again.

The moving trucks roll slowly down the street and the Shepherd children watch from their front lawn as they disappear. The front door of what used to be their home swings open and their mother comes barreling out, juggling two more boxes.

“Derek!” She beckons. “Come and grab one of these.”

Derek quickly runs to help his mother.

“And the rest of you- don’t just stand there! There’s a few more things inside!”

They load up the minivan and suddenly there’s not much left to do but to say their goodbyes to an empty house. Say their goodbyes to a home and all the memories associated with it. It was time to start new.

_______

The car ride to their new neighborhood is long and boring and Amelia sits all the way in the back, crammed alongside the last of the moving boxes like she’s an object being moved herself. That’s how she’s starting to feel, at least. Like an inanimate object being transported against her will. Her 3 older sisters occupy the seats in front of her, sharing headphones and giggling amongst themselves every few minutes. Derek, who’s seated passenger side next to their mother, turns around with searching eyes. He catches Amelia's gaze through the cracks between headrests and smiles at her in an assuring manner. He doesn’t turn away until Amelia reluctantly smiles back.

The minivan finally pulls into a quiet suburban neighborhood and stops in the driveway of their new home. Before the car is even put into park, Derek and Nancy are jumping out and running toward the house. Lizzie and Kathleen follow quickly after them while Amelia remains trapped in the backseat. She sighs. All she has to do is climb over the middle seat but she can’t seem to bring herself to do it.

“Come on, Amy,” she hears her mother’s impatient voice from outside of the car. The tone forces her out of her frozen position and she finally starts climbing over the seat. When her feet hit the pavement, she looks up at the house. She shifts her gaze to her mother incredulously and before Amelia can even say anything, her mother is grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia sees movement across the street. As her mother pulls her toward the house, Amelia turns her head fully to meet the movement. She watches as a boy, about her age, drops his baseball mitt onto the grass and chases after his father. He’s laughing as his dad teases him about wanting macaroni and cheese again for dinner. The boy follows his dad inside and the whole time Amelia is listening to the sound of his voice as he argues playfully. Amelia finds herself smiling at the interaction. She doesn’t know why, but something about the boy’s playful energy sparks something in her. She feels excited, she thinks, at the idea of this boy being her friend.

_______

A couple of hours later, and the idea is becoming closer to reality for Amelia. When 9 year-old Atticus Lincoln stumbles through an awkward introduction on the sidewalk in front of her new home, Amelia cannot refrain from laughing. At first, his presence had startled her. The sidewalk chalk had slipped out of her palm and she’d almost fallen backwards from her crouched position. But, something about his energy had instantly made her feel calm and at ease. Amelia is grinning from ear to ear after watching this boy struggle with his words. After a little back and forth and a lot more laughter, Amelia decides she doesn’t want him to leave. She definitely likes his company. She wants him to stay.

“Anyway, Atticus, do you wanna play a game?”

_______

Amelia is 16 years old when she discovers that high school is her worst nightmare.

She walks up late today. Like really late. More so than usual. She must have missed her alarm. Or, forgotten to set it in the first place. That was highly likely.

Amelia curses herself as she jumps out of bed. All she has time for this morning is a quick teeth brushing. She glances in the mirror briefly, throwing a sweatshirt over what she’d worn to bed and grabbing her converse sneakers from the corner of her room. She slips on her backpack before running down the stairs and out the front door.

No sign of Link. She frowns. She must really be testing his patience. They usually walk to school together every morning. And he’d usually wait for her, even if she was running late. This morning is different though.

Amelia turns the corner, prepared to be alone with her own thoughts for the entire duration of the walk to school. But then she sees him, about a block ahead of her.

“Link!” She yells, desperate. “Wait for me, asshole!”

She sees him slow to a halt. He turns around up ahead of her. Amelia quickens her pace until she’s approaching him.

“Sorry, hi,” she greets him, kind of breathless. He looks her up and down, taking in the sweatshirt and sweatpants combo. Amelia tries not to get nervous under his gaze. But then he smiles.

“Is it pajama day?”

She rolls her eyes at him and shoves his shoulder gently.

“I had literally 3 minutes to get ready this morning.”

“Clearly,” he laughs again. He focuses on her face again, looking into her eyes, and Amelia feels his gaze burning into her. “You look-”

“Tired?” she interrupts him. “Don’t say it.”

“I was going to say hungover.”

Amelia looks away from him, ahead of them as they walk. She tries desperately to not have any sort of reaction to his words.

“Amelia, it’s a weekday,” Link speaks again, concerned.

She stays silent, subconsciously raising her hand to bite at the corner of her thumb nail. He finally looks away from her face and Amelia sighs internally, wishing they could talk about anything else.

“Did you study for the physics test?” Link speaks up again.

“Is that today?” Amelia mumbles.

“Yes…”

“I’ll study at lunch. I’ll be fine.” And she’s not even worried. She knows she’ll do fine. She always does. She feels an awkwardness between them and she hates it. Link usually makes her feel completely at ease. This morning, Amelia can tell she’s made him upset. She nudges his side with her elbow. When he finally makes eye contact, she smirks at him.

“Link, I’m fine,” she whines playfully. “Don’t worry.”

He breaks into a smile. Something that happens naturally whenever Amelia smirks like that. Her heart warms at the sight, watching as his eyes crinkle slightly from the expression. Link has the best smile.

“I know you’re fine. I just think you’ll be less fine when I crush you in this physics test.” He jokes.

“In your dreams!” Amelia laughs, feeling completely relaxed by their banter.

_______

Amelia doesn’t study at lunchtime. Jake, who’s a senior, and someone Amelia always feels the need to impress, invites her to the parking lot and she instantly agrees. Being invited to the parking lot is basically a right of passage and everyone knows it. It’s not just a parking lot. It’s a hang out spot. The place you escape to for a smoke sesh or to find out where all the parties are that weekend. She knows being invited to the parking lot basically means Jake and all his senior friends will smoke her out. So, Amelia isn’t studying at lunch. She’s currently sitting on the open trunk of one of Jake’s friend’s trucks, being passed a joint.

She takes it, placing it to her lips, closing her eyes and inhaling as deeply as she can. She keeps it in for as long as she can before exhaling slowly. She opens her eyes again when she hears Jake laughing next to her.

“Damnnn, Shepherd. Not even a cough? Impressive.”

“She’s not like other girls,” one of Jake’s friends, Eric, adds, laughing with him.

Amelia rolls her eyes, and instead of passing the joint, she takes another hit. She’s impressing them and she likes the feeling. She reluctantly passes it off after that.

“Shep, you coming out tonight?”

Amelia just stares, it’s a Friday night but she’s not sure of what’s going on.

“Big party at Tyler’s place, everyone’s going.”

“Oh, right.” Amelia plays along. “Yeah I’m thinkin about it.”

_______

When the lunch bell rings, signaling class is about to start back up, Amelia only panics slightly. Not only is she late for the physics test, but she’s also completely in the wrong mindset. She feels it as she walks to the science lab, the paranoia sets in as she approaches the door. She hates walking in late. And she hates that she’s too high right now.

She tries to not spark any suspicion as she enters the room, but the dead quiet of the room only makes her more anxious. Everyone has already started taking their tests. She eyes her open seat at the back of the class, and moves as swiftly as possible. She feels a set of eyes on her the entire time and once she’s taken her seat, she reluctantly meets Link’s gaze from across the room.

Amelia flinches at the disappointment on his face.

Link turns back to his test and Amelia glues her eyes to her empty desk before another face interrupts her panic. She looks up just as Mr. Thompson, their physics teacher, places a test down in front of her. Amelia only meets his suspicious stare for a second before glancing down at the paper anxiously. She pulls a pencil out of her bag and quickly writes her name in the top right corner of the page.

She gives herself only a minute to breathe before she reads the first question. Once she does start reading, panic swells in her chest again. She can’t do this right now. She can’t be here taking this test. She doesn’t know what comes over her, but the sudden need to get out of this classroom completely consumes her. She’s not subtle when she stands up, pushing away from the desk hastily. The chair makes a harsh noise as it slides back against the floor and Amelia quickly grabs her backpack, leaving the test unfinished on her desk. Heads turn in her direction as she makes her way to the door. She faintly hears Mr. Thompson calling after her but chooses to ignore it.

She doesn’t stop walking until she’s all the way outside. The cool September air instantly calms her as she walks. And she keeps walking. Physics is her last class of the day and there’s nothing stopping her from just walking all the way home at this point.

_______

She hides out in her bedroom until her Mother calls her down for dinner a couple of hours later. It’s officially the weekend and that means some of the older Shepherd siblings are home from college. Amelia sits at the table and tries to avoid Nancy and Kathleen’s stares. Their mother, Carolyn, clears her throat.

“Girls stop glaring and pass Amelia the salad,” she says sternly.

Kathleen smirks as she starts passing food across the table. “Well, aren’t you going to say something, Mom?”

“Kathleen, not now.”

Amelia’s plate remains empty. The energy is off in the dining room and she doesn’t really feel like eating.

“You can’t keep letting her get away with this,” Kathleen speaks up again, laughing sarcastically and looking pointedly at her youngest sister.

“What’s your deal?” Amelia finally bites back. “I’ve seen you all of three minutes and you’re already mad at me for-?”

“Girls!” Carolyn chimes in. She glances harshly at each of them. She looks back at Amelia before she speaks again. “Amelia...the school called just before you came down-”

“I answered!” Kathleen interrupts with a snicker, Nancy smirking along with her. Carolyn shakes her head at them in warning before she continues.

“Amelia, apparently your science teacher reported you walked out on your test today…?” It ends up sounding like a question.

Amelia stares down at her empty plate.

“She’s probably on pills again. Did you ever get a lock for the medicine cabinet?” Nancy’s harsh words cause Amelia’s head to snap up. She glares at her oldest sister. And for the second time today, she feels the need to escape. She can’t be here right now. In a familiar movement, she pushes harshly away from the table and moves toward the front door.

She doesn’t stop walking until she’s all the way across the street. Suddenly she’s pounding on wood until a front door is swinging open and Link’s worried eyes meet hers. She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she registers the haggard breathing sound is coming from her.

“Amelia?! What’s wrong, what happened?”

“I can’t-” her panicked breathing cuts the sentence short but suddenly strong arms are around her, pulling her inside the house.

Link shifts his grips to her shoulders and guides her toward the stairs, up to his bedroom. The door clicks shut behind them and Link is guiding her again toward the bed, sitting down next to her.

Amelia curses herself, embarrassed by her total lack of control right now. She doesn’t remember letting herself begin to cry. But now that it’s started, she can’t make it stop.

“Amelia,” Link’s steady voice pulls her slightly from her thoughts. He looks at her assuringly. “Breathe. You need to breathe.”

In a gesture, Link makes his own breathing pattern more obvious, in his attempt to get Amelia to match him. She tries. She really tries. She looks into his eyes and lets him hold her gaze, anchoring her, like he’s tossing her a rope and trying to pull her back in.

She needs more though, something more forceful, and then she’s reaching for him. In the most platonic way, she grabs under his elbows, forcing his arms to engulf her small body. Desperate for the pressure of his strong hold.

She waits for him to catch on, and she sighs in relief when he squeezes her tight. The sensation of it is almost like a thunder jacket for a dog.

Amelia is just beginning to calm down when Link’s grip loosens slightly. She looks up at him bewildered. But he just looks calm. He pulls away even more but grabs her hand, standing up from the bed.

“Here, Amelia. Lay down on the floor, this will help,” he soothes, pulling her up from the bed.

She still hasn’t gained any control over her crying, but she listens to his instructions, laying flat on her back on the plush carpeting of his bedroom. She glances up at him and he smiles softly at her, eyes crinkling. Then he’s lowering himself over her.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” his voice is soothing. He even chuckles a bit at his actions. How crazy this must look. “My body weight will be like a weighted blanket…”

He’s twice her size but he lays fully on top of her, mimicking her positioning. He relaxes, and Amelia feels the weight of it completely. And to her surprise, it’s extremely calming. The pressure envelopes her nerves and the effects are almost instant. Her breathing begins to slow as they lay in complete silence, both staring up at the ceiling.

“Like a….gravity blanket,” Amelia’s voice finally breaks the silence.

Link chuckles. And now Amelia is smiling wide.

They lay like that for a few more minutes. Amelia is so relaxed and the room is comfortably quiet.

“Did you fall asleep on me?” Amelia whispers, laughing under her breath.

Link rolls off of her, laying next to her instead. He smiles at her, reaching between them and squeezing her hand. Amelia’s chest tightens at the gesture. And then he lets go.

“You okay?” Link asks.

“I am.”

They both resume the position of staring up at the ceiling. Link speaks again.

“You going to that party tonight?”

Amelia turns her head, looking at him in shock.

“Absolutely not,” she answers. Then she laughs again, adding “I’m staying here with you.”

_______

Amelia is 18 years old when she realizes that soulmates can be found in friendships.

She loves college right away. She loves being away from home and away from her family. She finds a good friend group and gets along well with the people she lives with. The only thing missing from her close to perfect equation, is her best friend, Link.

Her new college friends tease her relentlessly for her dependency on her best friend from home. The way she facetimes Link almost on a nightly basis, or the way she drops everything she’s doing the moment he texts her.

“That your boyfriend from home?” Amelia’s roommate jokes as her phone chimes with a text message.

“More like her soulmate,” her other roommate adds.

Amelia rolls her eyes. “He’s not my soulmate,” she laughs. “But...yes.”

The suspicious glances from her roommates don’t go unnoticed by Amelia. “I’m actually hanging out with Stephen tonight,” Amelia announces proudly.

“Ugh, he’s no good for you.”

“Yeah, definitely not soulmate vibes from Stephen.”

Amelia rolls her eyes again, standing up to get ready to see Stephen.

_______

Amelia likes Stephen. He’s tall and charming with dark hair and bright green eyes. He makes her laugh and provides the sense of calmness that Amelia seems to seek in those she surrounds herself with.

He’s not a distraction. That’s for sure. Amelia is even starting to think she loves him by the end of the first semester. She feels something every time she looks at him. His wide smile and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. Stephen feels familiar. And makes Amelia feel nostalgic.

And Amelia crushes any thought she has of Stephen compared to Link. To her best friend.

She doesn’t question what it means that every time she arrives back at her dorm after a night spent with Stephen, the first thing she wants to do is call Link.

She smiles to herself as she crosses the threshold to her room, instantly pulling her phone out and relaxing onto her bed. She swells with excitement as she glances at her calendar. It’s almost holiday break and for some reason she misses home.

_______

Amelia is 22 years old when she discovers what it feels like to finally open up.

She hasn’t seen Link in almost a full year, although she still considers him to be her best friend.

It’s finally thanksgiving and both Amelia and Link have returned home from their separate colleges for the weekend. She’s completely shocked when she first sees him. Link looks the same but also different. His hair is longer than Amelia remembers. And he seems taller...and more muscular, too. Like he’d suddenly started working out a bunch.

Link clears his throat, drawing her attention to his face. “Hi, Amelia,” he smiles. And the eye contact almost makes her breath catch in her throat. Had his eyes always been that color?

Link pulls her into a hug suddenly, pulling her away from her thoughts, and Amelia instantly relaxes into the familiar embrace.

_______

That night they end up at the local bar. Thanksgiving eve being the busiest bar night of the year, and basically a premature high school reunion for the entire town. Amelia really didn’t want to go. But, Link was interested in seeing a few buddies from school, and Amelia wanted to go wherever Link wanted to go.

They attempt to stay together for the entirety of the night, but it’s a little hard when there’s constant interruptions by vaguely familiar high school acquaintances.

Amelia sits at the bar and watches Link from across the room as he chats enthusiastically with his high school friends. She didn’t have a huge friend group in high school. She always had friends a couple grades above her, the ones she’d ditch school with. The ones she’d hang out in the parking lot with during lunch. And there was always Link. But that was it.

She catches his eye from where he’s standing across the crowded room and he smiles at her briefly. A moment later he motions toward the door. She frowns slightly before pushing through the crowd to join him.

“You’re leaving without me? What kind of date are you?” She smirks at him as she shrugs on her jacket.

“I wasn’t aware this was a date, Amelia.” Link responds, playing along. “But yes, I am leaving. Early morning and all that.”

“Well let me walk you home.” She continues, voice laced with irony.

“Let’s go home,” he agrees.

_______

They end up back at Link’s house, sitting at the kitchen table. There’s a lot of catching up, and reminiscing. And conversation about the future. Amelia feels a sense of warmness she can’t quite place. Link makes her feel warm. And she can’t stop smiling.

They talk about everything. Learn everything new about each other.

Amelia learns everything about Link’s college experiences. She tries to stay neutral as Link talks about the girls he has dated. She smiles through his drunken hookup stories. She learns that Link wants to pursue medical school, and that news brings her more excitement than she’d anticipated.

Amelia tells Link she wants to follow in her older siblings’ footsteps. She wants to become a surgeon. And when Link promises that he’d always known she’d make way for herself in the medical field, she feels warm again.

Amelia tells him about the relationships she’s been through. And the one she’s currently in.

“You’ll get to meet him this weekend, Link. He’s driving in tomorrow. For dinner.”

Amelia isn’t certain, but she thinks Link’s face falls at that.

“How long have you two been together?” He asks her.

“We met my freshman year. We’ve been dating on and off since then.” Amelia mutters, suddenly the warmth is gone. This conversation feels cold

“On and off?” Link questions.

Amelia clears her throat, feeling vulnerable. “Well, yeah.” She sighs. “We’ve broken up more than once. And gotten back together a couple of times…It’s um…” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “It’s been, um, I mean I wouldn’t say a roller coaster, but…”

Amelia panics as she watches Link study her face. The analytical features remind Amelia of plenty of past conversations. Plenty of situations she’d gotten herself into and then called on Link.

“Amelia, are you happy?”

The question makes her heart sink and she can’t place why. Maybe it’s denial. Maybe she’s been dishonest with herself. She zones out as she stares ahead of herself, eyes glued to the space between them. Eyes glued to the table. She doesn’t like cold and vulnerable. She wants some of the warmth back. It feels like her body is on autopilot when she stands up on wobbly feet and walks around to Link’s side of the table. She can’t bring herself to answer him, or his daunting question. She doesn’t know why she does it, but suddenly she finds herself crawling her way into Link’s lap, legs dangling off the side of the chair and arms wrapping around his neck.

And then her own words surprise her, too.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school. Probably since I was 9, if I’m being honest.” And she laughs at her own vulnerability.

She lays her head on his chest, hiding her face away from him. And she can feel Link wrap his arms around her waist. She feels him place a comforting kiss to the top of her head.

“And I, of course, was head over heels for you, but you already knew that. Everyone did.” He whispers, and Amelia is surprised at this response. She didn’t know that.

She laughs into him, and then she finally lifts her head, looking up at him.

“Let’s crash on the couch, yeah?” He offers. “Like old times?”

_______

It’s weird for Amelia the next night at dinner. To be snuggled into the embrace of another man. Not even 24 hours after she’d fallen asleep in Link’s arms.

His words replay in her head on a loop. The way he’d whispered ‘I’ve always loved you, Ames. Always will’ before they drifted off.

And the way that she’d responded. ‘I love you too, Link. You’re my best friend.’

Amelia is confused, and feels vulnerable, again.

_______

Amelia is 25 years old when she discovers that she's probably not destined to be a mother.

When she tells her fiancé of a year, James, that she’s pregnant, she doesn’t know how to feel. It’s overwhelming, that’s for sure. And she feels extremely anxious. She hopes it’s anxious in an excited way, and not for any other reason.

She ignores the uncertainty. She’d always wanted to be a mother, right? This is how everything was supposed to be. Anxiety and all.

_______

Amelia feels numb, three months later, when she has a miscarriage. She can’t quite process what she is feeling.

And it takes a toll on their relationship.

James is shocked. And grows more and more depressed over it.

Amelia takes her anger out on James, and he does the same with her.

They decide to take a break, and James moves out of their apartment. Amelia needs some time for herself. And she can’t quite place if what she’s feeling is relief. But she feels something. Because she knows that this is probably how it was meant to be. Everything happens for a reason.

_______

Amelia is 28 years old when Seattle becomes her true home.

She’s graduated medical school and landed her dream internship at one of the country’s top hospitals.

It’s her first day of work and she hops on the subway train downtown. The train is kind of crowded, and she automatically makes her way to a less dense standing spot. She settles in her spot, mentally preparing herself for a busy day.

Amelia counts down as the train makes it’s stops. Knowing that the next stop is hers, she moves her way closer to the door. It opens and she steps out onto the platform, glancing at her watch, deciding whether or not she has time to stop for coffee.

Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by another body bumping right into her.

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbles, but she cuts herself off when she recognizes who has just run into her.

“Long time no see, Shepherd.” Link is standing in front of her, smiling widely.

And she can’t help how her face instantly lights up. She laughs, bewildered. Not quite believing what she’s seeing. She finds herself pulling him into the tightest of hugs, laughing breathlessly into his ear.

“What the hell, Link? What the hell are you doing here?” She lets go of him and they’re making eye contact, smiles wide across both their faces. They both seem to need to catch their breath.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He jokes.

Amelia shakes from her daze. “I..I live here now. I start a new job today. Like now, actually.”

Her shock and bewilderment doesn’t seem to die down whatsoever when she learns that Link has landed the same internship as her.

_______

Amelia is 29 years old when she discovers that her 7-year-old self was wrong. Soulmates do exist, and she knows by definition.

She knows what a soulmate is when Link takes her out on their first real date and he doesn’t even make a move, because there’s no need to rush things.

She knows what a soulmate is when she watches Link become the version of himself that is a brilliant, confident, orthopedic surgeon fellow.

She knows what a soulmate is when they finally sleep together for the first time. And it feels like it has been building up over a lifetime. The way they take it slow, reveling in each moment with each other because it didn’t quite feel real.

After their first successful surgery together, they’d gone out with some fellow surgeons, and Amelia knew what she was doing when she asked him back to her place for the night.

Amelia knows what a soulmate is that night. When she looks him in the eye and reaches for the hem of his shirt in question. She feels completely confident in his presence and especially in his arms. Like she was always meant to be there. This is her best friend, and her soulmate. And she’s completely awestruck by how good this moment is. How it can’t compare to anyone or anything else.

Amelia knows what a soulmate is the next morning. When she stirs from her slumber slightly, as familiar fingers dance slowly across her bare back.

She rolls over in bed and is met with her favorite pair of eyes. She mumbles to Link ‘let’s make pancakes,’ and she knows what a soulmate is as she watches him move about her kitchen, covered in pancake mix from the brief food fight that had broken out between them.

Amelia knows what a soulmate is when they move in together. In a tiny studio apartment in Seattle. And Link lets her decorate it exactly how she wants.

And despite their first fight, Amelia knows what a soulmate is. When Link meets her nieces and nephews, and nonchalantly makes a comment about kids one day, Amelia freezes in panic. And then completely avoids him for three whole days.

Amelia knows what a soulmate is when she learns to compromise. Because the two of them cope in different ways. So, when Link has a bad day, she gives him space to bum out, instead of bombarding him to talk through it. Even though she’d want the opposite for herself on her own bad days.

And he’s still her soulmate when they turn 30 and they move into a bigger house in the suburbs. Amelia is excited about each of them having their own office space. Link jokes about ‘room to grow’ and ‘future nurseries.’ Amelia doesn’t say it then, but she warms up at the idea.

When they’re 32, and they’re dancing at their co-worker’s wedding, Amelia knows what a soulmate is. After a particularly hard week at work, Amelia had been taking her frustrations out on Link. And he’d been letting her. He was always so patient. And now as they danced together slowly, Amelia can’t help but rest her head against his chest gratefully. She feels him squeeze her waist gently. She can’t help it when she mumbles ‘Maybe I’ll marry you, someday.’

_______

Amelia is 34 years old when everything falls into place for the rest of her life.

After she’d told Link she was pregnant, they’d both been completely overjoyed. And since then, Amelia couldn’t fight the realization that everything was meant to be this way. Everything had happened for a reason.

She doesn’t hear Link come into the bathroom as she stands brushing her teeth, eyes closed in happy exhaustion as she rests against the sink.

She feels his arms snake around her stomach and her eyes snap open to playfully meet his in the bathroom mirror.

Link squeezes her small bump and Amelia lays her head back into his chest blissfully.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, “before you fall asleep right here brushing your teeth.”

_______

They lay down in bed and assume their favorite position as of recently. Amelia loves it when Link lays behind her, spooning her, arms instinctively and protectively wrapping around her stomach. She settles into his arms and almost immediately begins dozing off.

She feels Link’s breath tickling her neck before she registers his voice.

“Amelia, you’re going to make the best mom to Scout. I can’t wait.” He mumbles, and Amelia smiles sleepily.

“I love you, Ames.” he continues, gently squeezing her bump again. “Always have, always will.”

Amelia is awake just enough to respond “I love you too, Link. You’re my best friend,” before sleep takes her.

Feedback please/let me know if you want me to write more amelink/send prompts!!

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelinkfanfiction #my writing

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jungcity · 5 years ago

Text

love, eternal. | viii

genre: reincarnation!au, fallen angel!au

[supernatural!au-ish, angst, use of blunts and intoxicants, extra asshole jaehyun, smut, vulgar words]

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader

words: 9k

note: listen to arcade by duncan lawrence while reading this chapter!! (thanks to @cherr-e for introducing me to the song) chapter unedited

“do i still taste of war?

can you still feel the battles on my skin

stitched across my back

am i still rebuilding

bone by fragile bone?”

— what does forgiveness taste like (r.n.)

Jaehyun feels as if he’s going mad. The ashen look of your face and the continuous froth coming out of your mouth sent an unfathomable type of ire inside him. He was certain of it; he was certain that he would bring you home safe and sound— without a trace of scratch in your body. But as you lay unconscious into one of the many chambers in Doyoung’s mansion— your knee displaying a long gash of wound, your face drained out of color, your hair disoriented and frizzing— all that Jaehyun wanted to do was burn the world to soot.

He wanted to find and punish the creature who did this to you; he wanted to wrap his hand around that cretin’s neck and squeeze the air out of its lungs. It’s been less than one hour since you started to convulse underneath Jaehyun’s touch, but he felt as if you were insentient for eternity now. It didn’t help that the memory of Aurora dying currently flashes in his mind, reminding him that he is a stone throw’s away in experiencing that kind of world-shattering moment again.

A commotion from outside broke Jaehyun’s reverie, he decided to let go of your hand; so cold against his. Before he could finally stand up and find out whose voice echoes down the floor, the door swung open and revealed Sicheng; a vampire like Taeyong.

“Her sister,” He nudged his head behind him, and he was pushed aside by a girl as he said the words.

The girl let out a strangled cry before kneeling on the floor beside you. She was mewling and hugging the frail body laid lethargic on the bed; praying for you to wake up. The sight was like burst of sunlight in Jaehyun’s eyes— it stings and he never wanted to witness an innocent girl begging for God to wake her sister ever again. So he departed the room, leaving your sister to have a lone time with you.

Jaehyun looked out at the view from above the stairs, Taeyong was tending for the wounded Ten. He was shot by a cross bolt at his right leg. Jaehyun decided to descend the stairs to look out for his comrades who bravely assisted him in rescuing you. At least, he needed to commend their stoutness.

“How is she?” Johnny quickly stood up from his seat when he saw Jaehyun. The man blames himself for what happened to you, but Jaehyun told him he’s done more than enough. Plans aren’t always executed perfectly. Yet Jaehyun could not deny that you, poisoned, was not what he’d expected as a loophole.

“Benumbed, still. But Doyoung assured me that the poison has slowed down already.” Jaehyun explained. Doyoung, and the other warlocks have been awake all night to check up on you. They slowed down the poison, that’s why it hasn’t reached your heart yet. But they warned Jaehyun how grave your situation is, despite the poison being just a nightshade. It is one of the most common poison in Netherworld; easily cured, but still could kill someone if used in high dosage. Doyoung suspected that a dosage of ten drops were commixed into the liquid that you drank; whoever poisoned you wanted you dead instantly.

“I— forgive me, Jaehyun. I was too occupied in protecting her against the guards that I’d missed the danger behind me.” Johnny said the same apology for three times already, yet the remorse in his eyes never lessened. Jaehyun clapped his friend on his back, telling him the same ‘it’s alright, don’t blame yourself’ sentence. Before Johnny departed the living room, he nodded at Jaehyun with reverence. In times like this Jaehyun wished he wasn’t respected as someone who is above netherworlders.

“Are you alright?” He asked Ten, who’s currently laid on the sofa, with Taeyong bandaging his wound.

“Of course. Ant’s bite.” He answered, but then he screamed when Taeyong accidentally touched the wound. Jaehyun shook his head and moved on to the other person beside him, Lucas.

He was not with them in Fairie lands, for Jaehyun appointed him to guard your sister in your apartment. Chaelin had gone with him, since she believed that it would freak your sister out once she saw a man outside the door. The purple patch of bruise beside Lucas’ lips proved Chaelin’s prediction.

Jaehyun need not to ask the young man about what happened. Lucas simply shook his head and said, “I politely knocked yet she welcomed me with a punch instead,”

“She was able to reach your face with her height?” Jaehyun raised a brow, the young man threw a pillow his way, “You need a thorough practice,” With that, Lucas buried his own face into the pillows. Jaehyun let out a toneless chuckle before Chaelin called him from up the stairs. Her thumb pointing to your room.

A surge of electricity bolted inside Jaehyun’s body as he thought of the million reasons for Chaelin’s calling. He stood up and ascended the stairs two steps at a time. When he finally reached your room, his shoulders slumped from seeing your enfeebled body again. You have not moved a finger.

“What- what’s gonna happen to her now? Is she gonna… die?” Your sister, Yuqi, asked as she sniffed with tears still falling down her cheeks. The last word was a shot of arrow in Jaehyun’s heart. He knew your sister felt the same for the word left her wincing, her crying inconsolable.

Chaelin softly held her close to her, as if afraid to rattle the girl. They sat on the nearest couch, Jaehyun across from them. “No, she’s not going to die. I won’t let that happen.”

“What happened to her? Where has she gone to?” Yuqi asked in between her sobs, her eyes fixed on your unmoving body.

Jaehyun sighed, just thinking about how would he explain the Fairie lands to a human gave him a headache that would last for a day. He leaned, his elbow propped on his hips. “It’s… complicated. I don’t think you would believe it.”

Yuqi wiped her nose, her eyes turning to Jaehyun with a fire that told him she would not back down until she’s known the truth. “I deserve to know since you refused to bring her to the hospital. What happened to my sister?”

It’s true. Jaehyun indeed refused for a medical aid reserved for mortals. The medicines and apparatuses they have won’t do anything for your current state. In fact, the doctors would have pronounced you brain dead already. So he sighed, and told your sister about Yuta, his mother, their plan, your being trapped in Fairie lands. After a lot of talking that left Jaehyun’s mouth dry, he expected your sister to scoff and tell him he’s mad. But she only fisted her palms in annoyance, her next words bewildering Jaehyun.

“That Yuta hasn’t done anything other than hurt my sister. I knew it. Behind those white hair of his lay secrets that are not of this world.” She stated with enough contempt, “Sometimes, when they were still together, he would talk as if he’s an ancient god from hundreds of thousands of years ago. Now I understand why. Never really trusted that guy.” She has stopped crying now, but her eyes are still red. “But… how did you rescue her? Without any magic, I doubt you could enter the Fairie lands.”

Jaehyun and Chaelin exchanged a look, both of them reluctant to answer your sister’s question. “I think you’ve heard enough of complicated things tonight, you should rest.” Chaelin told her with a smile. Your sister was quick to get the hint and did not force them for any answers anymore.

“I want to sleep here, beside my sister.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible. Our friends has to check up on her later, and what they’ll be doing would just cause you headaches.” Chaelin explained, “It’s best for you to stay in the room we’ve prepared for your accommodation. I promise you’ll be the first one to know whatever happens to her,”

Yuqi’s brows were knitted as if she would complain and insist. But she only looked at Jaehyun’s way. “Does she trust you?” She asked, holding Jaehyun’s eyes with enough intensity that he saw the warning inside your sister’s orbs. Do you trust Jaehyun? After all that he has done to you? But he could not afford to burden your sister— the only family you have left— any further. So he nodded with a private uncertainty.

“Alright, then. I won’t insist. If she trusts you, then I trust you. But don’t make me regret it. I would kill you myself if something bad happens to her,” Yuqi warned. In ordinary times, Jaehyun would have laughed. The thought of a mortal threatening him was a joke to his perspective. But he understood your sister’s feelings; she is afraid, so afraid to face the possibility of you dying.

“I promise, nothing bad would befell your sister as long as I live.” Jaehyun’s words sparked the ember of feelings he has towards you. The words are like tattoos, permanent now in his heart. And he only hoped that he could hold up to that promise.

Chaelin led your sister to her own room, leaving Jaehyun with you. He stared at your face, his hands holding a towel to wipe the froth coming out of your mouth. Your chest, barely rising. He swallowed the fear as he pushed back the hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry,” He’s lost count of the times he said the words against your ears while holding your hand tightly with his. “I am so sorry,” He kissed the back of your hand, your palm, your wrist. A slight twitch of your finger sent Jaehyun’s nerves into frenzy; he’s certain he wasn’t imagining things.

“Y/N… chérie, are you awake?” He whispered, holding your hand more tightly now, waiting for any sign of life. Your finger twitched for the second time, Jaehyun let out a sigh of relief and leaned closer to you, waiting for your eyes to pop open.

But something is not right. The froth coming out of your mouth is thickening, your body starting to convulse again. It started from your hands, then the spasm worked its way to your whole body. Jaehyun shouted for Doyoung, for anyone. Every beat of his heart frantic from watching you.

“What’s happening to her?” He demanded as Doyoung reached the room. He was followed by Taeil, Jaemin, Renjun, and Yangyang. They circled you, all of them laying their two fingers on your wrist, feeling your heart. Then they exchanged glances. Jaehyun wished he doesn’t know what those looks meant. But he does.

Doyoung looked up at him, “This is bad.”

He tried to calm down, his fist on the sides of his body, “How bad?”

“Too bad,” Doyoung answered, his voice gravelly.

“Her pulse. I couldn’t feel it.” Yangyang stated from beside Doyoung.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, then the small body of your sister was suddenly inside the room; her sobs filling the whole space. “What’s happening to her?” She cried and pushed the warlocks away from you, her tears falling on your body. Chaelin pulled her away and hugged her as she continued to sob.

“Jaehyun, her pulse. We couldn’t feel it.” Taeil once again stated.

Jaehyun was locked in his place, the chaos of the room rocking his system; the sobs of your sister, the shushing of Chaelin, the chants of the warlocks and the silent stares of his comrades seems to be all too overwhelming for him. Then all went silent. Your body stopped convulsing. It would have relieved Jaehyun— but the stillness of your chest was like a nuclear bomb in his body.

“No,” He whispered. “No!” He could feel his pupils dilate, his blood flowing in his veins frenetically. Then he shoved away the warlocks to get to you. No. No. No.

“Y/N. Wake up.” He tightened his jaw to stop himself from shouting. Nothing. “Chérie, I don’t like this game.” He said with gritted teeth. “Wake up, Y/N.” He cupped your cheeks, his eyes stinging with his teeth aching from gritting it together too much. “Wake up!” But you didn’t. He wanted to shake your body until you open your eyes, but his hands felt leaden as he held you, lifeless and cold.

Somebody put a hand on his shoulder, “Jaehyun, let it go.” It was Taeyong. Jaehyun could not hear anything, the world seems to fade away. No, Y/N. He shuts his eyes, your unconscious body in his arms. This is not happening, again.

He laid you slowly on the bed, then he whirled on his comrades. Their heads are bent down, not daring to see the view unraveling in front of them. Yuqi continues to cry, but Jaehyun could not hear her sobs against the mayhem in his mind.

“Doyoung, do it again.” His voice was almost a whisper, even he could not hear himself despite the moving of his lips. Doyoung exchanged glances with Taeil and they both walked towards you, fingers sparking up magic. Jaemin came back with potions in his hand, Jaehyun did not even notice when he departed the room. He set the potions beside Doyoung, both of them exchanging silent stares as Jaemin started to mix up the vials of liquid.

Jaehyun did not know what to do. His hands are on his waist, his feet pacing the room back and forth. He is Lucifer, he could do something. But if he truly could, Aurora would have been alive until now.

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung called out, the sadness in his eyes sending Jaehyun’s insides to mayhem again. Then the warlock slowly shook his head. It was a boulder of rock to Jaehyun’s chest, the feeling was like a push on his last bit of sanity.

“No!” He shouted. In his peripheral, he saw your sister flinched at the loud scream. He wasted no time to stand face to face with Doyoung, his eyes searching for something; a little hope, just a little hope. “Do it again.” He commanded, but Doyoung shook his head.

“I couldn’t. We couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

When he grabbed Doyoung’s collar, the men behind him quickly ran to pull him away from the warlock. But his grip was tight and nobody in the room has the same strength as his.

“Do it again. You are not a warlock for eight hundred years for nothing.” He seethed while fighting the yanking being done by Johnny and Lucas to his body.

“If we push her body any further, her system won’t be able to take all the magic, Jaehyun. Remember, she is a mortal.”

Mortal. Jaehyun could not take it anymore. He ran, far from the blackhole that is your death in Doyoung’s mansion. He ran for his car. He exactly knows where to go.

The road was empty, with the moon providing the light in the path. The eerie shadows of trees painted the asphalt road a gray and black colors as Jaehyun rode through the night. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight he was afraid it’d break. But his mind screams and his heart is shattering to care about anything one bit. Why is it crueler this time? He’s thinking about his punishment. How the Almighty seems to take away his source of happiness from him again. Not so soon. He begged, and he never once begged.

He watched Aurora die, helpless as he was in the corner of her room. He watched as her last breath was a release of the body she once had in the Earth. And he did not do anything, then. Aurora died without him giving a fight. She died, and he let her die. Now you lay dead on the bed, Jaehyun didn’t even see your eyes for the last time. You died helpless, too. You died without seeing your sister. You died as if you did not deserve to say goodbye to your loved ones.

The tires screeched, a signal that Jaehyun has reached his destination. He breathed. Without a second thought, he departed the car and the church’s façade loomed over him. Every step he took towards the structure was a dagger at his heart. How many years has it been since he last visited a church? He couldn’t remember. But now he is here, ready to face his Creator— for you.

The iron door of the church was locked, with a flick of a finger it opened for Jaehyun. Moonlight infiltrated the whole interior of the church, the white rays of it touching the floor and the rows of long chairs. The altar stood proudly at the end, the image of Jesus Christ staring at him in wonder.

His feet halted at the very base of the stairs leading up to the altar. “Bring her back,” He sounded so pathetically hopeless that the tone of his voice was enough to make him want to strangle himself. He swallowed despite the shame that he felt, “Father, bring her back to me.”

It was embarrassing of him to wish something like this to his Creator. He was a traitor, a betrayer. He does not deserve mercy. But he would try, he would do it, just to see your smile again.

Jaehyun heard nothing, the whole atmosphere was silent. He would feel it if the Almighty deemed him worthy of a conversation, but there’s nothing divine in the air.

“Bring her back to me!” He’s lost it, he screamed— voice echoing everywhere. Jaehyun does not even realize that he’s crying. The droplets of his hopelessness shines on the floor. His breathing was ragged, his sight blurry. But he won’t stop until someone talked to him. Your face flashed in his mind, how the brightness of it turned to ashen, how your body felt cold in his hands. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Jaehyun knelt.

He knelt while crying, his heart full of thorns. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible amidst the silence.

“Have I not suffered enough, Father?”

Stillness. Silence. Jaehyun could not accept that it went in vain. That he would comeback and see your cold body on the bed. That you would start to decay and leave the world as if you were just a leaf in a tree in fall.

Mortals. It baffles him still how your lifetime seems to be just a minute compared to his. And right there he wished that you were one of the faces. Right there, he wished that you were like Aurora. Would you call him heartless for wishing that?

A blaze of white light suddenly filled the church. Jaehyun looked up to see what it was with tear-stained cheeks. He could not make up the figure because of the brightness, but when it landed in front of him, he could not stop himself from smiling in astonishment.

“Michael,” He breathed. The figure was the Archangel Michael; clad in his armor with his sword strapped in his waist and wings tucked in his back. He’s looking at Jaehyun without emotions in his eyes.

“Brother,” The Archangel said. Jaehyun’s heart warmed from it. How he longed for his brother to call him that again. How he longed to return and be with the soldiers of God a second time. “Rise, Lucifer.”

He did what he was told. He rose from his feet, and now standing face to face with the Archangel.

“He hearkened to your wishes; our Father.” Archangel Michael stated with calmed down voice. Jaehyun could not answer. He wanted to stare at his brother, because he knew that this could be the very last time they would see each other.

“Did He… bring her back?”

A ghost of a smile past the Archangel’s lips. “Fear not, brother. The girl is safe.”

Jaehyun felt his knees wobble because of that. A relief surges through his body like a bolt of lightning. He looked up at the Archangel again. “Thank you,” He breathed and the words felt so foreign in his tongue.

Archangel Michael nodded at him, “It warms my heart to see you again, Lucifer.” The baritone of the angel’s voice was not of this world. It carries the tone fit for a warrior in heaven.

Jaehyun nodded, “I feel the same, brother. I feel the same.” Then he wasted no time, he ascended the stairs and gave the Archangel a hug. He expected to wrap his arms on a phantom wind, but what he boxed inside his arms was the stout body of the Archangel. A low laugh escaped from their lips.

“I hope to have you beside me in Heaven once more, Lucifer.” Then the Archangel surged up like a star blazing towards the heavens. He hopes for that, too— more than anything. For a moment, Jaehyun envied the glory the Archangel has as he flew; he once had the same majesty when he served as a soldier of God. But Jaehyun could not stay in that envies knowing that he could see you again, alive. So he ran for his car, and rode again into the night. Back to the house and back to you.

—

“Am I dead?” You asked as you opened your eyes. The sun is bright, all its rays absorbed by the lake in front of you. The water gleams gold underneath the blue sky. Butterflies flies everywhere, wildflowers circles the lake. Is this heaven? But the lake seems oddly familiar, you’ve seen it once in your dream.

“You are not,” Her familiar voice captured you. Aurora. The crunch of her feet against the dried leaves mixing with the chirping of birds were behind you. She was on her usual white dress; her black hair shining, her eyes an ethereal blue.

“I was poisoned, right? Why am I here again?” Even in your own ears, you sounded tired. Tired of all the things that’s happened to you. Tired of reaching out to know your true identity just to know nothing.

“This is the last time I’m visiting you,” Aurora sat beside you, her voice toneless. You saw her bare feet as she sat, slipping out the hem of her dress.

“Why is that?” You asked, not sure if you really want to know her answers.

“Y/N,” The syllables of your name sounds strange in her voice, like it came from the other part of the world, “I will not force you your destiny. I had accepted it wholeheartedly when I was still alive—”

You couldn’t help but interrupt her, “So you’re really dead?”

She nodded at you, sadness swirling in her pupils. “I accepted it wholeheartedly that I had lost my body in the process.” She sighed, “But you, you are stronger than I was, Y/N. Braver, even.” She reached for your hand, held it tightly with hers. “Do as you like, but be sure that whatever it is you want, it would make you happy.”

“Thank you,” Even though you do not know what it is that would make you happy, your heart feels euphoric for what she said. “But I do need to know… who really are you?”

“I am Aurora. I’d lived my life in France. One hundred years ago. What you see is just a phantom of who I was. Behind this projection, I am nothing but dust.” She smiled dolefully at you. You supposed it should perplex you to know that Aurora is dead, and that she was one hundred years older than you. But you felt nothing, your mind seems to have anticipated the information already.

“Is Jaehyun your past lover? I saw him crying in the corner of your room in one of my dreams,”

“Jaehyun? That must be his cognomen right now.” She chuckled, “But yes. He was. And now yours,”

With that, you chuckled. “No. He is not my lover. He does not want me because he is a coward,” Then you scoffed. It’s funny to think that Jaehyun could make you feel this way.

“But you love him,” There wasn’t a hint of disdain in Aurora’s voice, only curiosity and juvenile happiness.

“Would it be awkward to admit it?”

“No, not at all.” Aurora shook her head, “But he does love you. He’s loved your soul for eternity now. And the truth is, you’ve loved him one hundred years ago through me. I wish you do not stop now.”

You’ve loved him one hundred years ago through me. What does that mean? You have no idea. But right now, you feel the nearest to the answers to your questions more than ever. Yet it does not calm your nerves, your agitation intensifying as you understand what Aurora tries to tell you.

“Why… how—” You don’t even know what to ask her, or how to ask her the things that’s spiraling in your head. “Are you saying that I am you one hundred years ago? Your… your reincarnation?”

“Thou shall bear a love for one soul, remember?” Aurora stood up and faced the lake, her hair billowing against the wind. “We are one, Y/N. Our soul is one.” You guessed she’s trying to console your disconcertment by giving you her warmest smile. “And we are tied to him, forever.” Then she was gone.

—

The tires screeched again. Jaehyun jumped out of his car, heart thudding in his chest. It’s eleven p.m., but the house was still alive. The huge mansion of Doyoung providing the shadows in the grass. Jaehyun’s shoes crunched into the soppy grass and dried leaves. When he entered the house, he saw Mark and Jeno propped into the living room, the two wolves bolted up from their seat as they saw him. Jaehyun just gave them a look before he ascended the stairs.

He saw Doyoung cleaning your face as he entered the room. Your sister, Yuqi, baffled beside you as she stared at your chest moving at last. Jaehyun sighed in relief, it was real. You’re alive. He ran a hand through his fog-sodden hair before sauntering up towards you.

“She’s alive. She woke up earlier and vomited all over the floors. But she’s too dazed to talk so I’ve put her to sleep to regain her strength,” Doyoung explained.

“What about the poison?” Jaehyun asked, his eyes never leaving your body.

“There’s still some left in her body. But she’s out of danger now. I don’t know what happened— it’s a miracle, Jaehyun.” Doyoung breathed, astonished beyond reckoning. Jaehyun thinks it’s the first time the warlock has seen something like this in his eight hundred years of living.

“No, it’s God.” Jaehyun stated, because it was indeed the work of God. You are alive because of Him. Doyoung stared at Jaehyun in disbelief, but he did not ask anything. Jaehyun isn’t ready to talk about it either, so the warlock nodded and laid the towel back on the basin. Then he departed the room, leaving Jaehyun with you and your sister.

“What happened? Where did you go?” She asked while sniffing.

Jaehyun sat on the nearest chair beside you, “I… did what I had to do to bring her back.” Explaining the whole thing would only leave your sister’s mind in chaos. Not that Jaehyun thinks she could not understand, but he doesn’t want to burden your sister with the knowledge of the unknown.

“I guess you wouldn’t explain it again,” Yuqi said, her voice laced with uncertainty. “But I am still thankful for what you’ve done.” She looked at Jaehyun with red-rimmed eyes, “Whatever it is. Thank you.”

Jaehyun nodded, “I’d do anything for her.”

—

Sunlight burst into the interior of Doyoung’s mansion, the briny tang of seawater from the distant ocean filling the atmosphere. The chirping of birds and the colorful wings of the butterflies sending hopes of a great day ahead for the netherworlders. Some of them still slumbered on their beds, some having breakfast, and some exercising in Doyoung’s yard.

In the silence of your room, Jaehyun slept with his arms propped on the side of your bed. He never left you, he never let go of your hand as you slumbered for he wanted to be the first one you’ll see once you open your eyes. He’s sure he’s dreamt of you waking up, with him peppering your face with kisses. In his dreams he was the happiest with you.

“Jaehyun,” It was Chaelin, nudging him to wake up. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was your unconscious body on the bed. Despite that, the slow rising and falling of your chest was enough to make his day a little bit brighter and better. At least, the color of your face has returned, no matter how frail you might look like.

“Clean yourself. You stink, dumbass.”

“Good morning to you too, Chaelin.” He greeted sarcastically. But he does know that he needs to take a shower. “How about Y/N? What if she wakes up and I am not here—”

Chaelin shushed him, “I will call you once she wakes up. Trust me, you wouldn’t want your current state as the first thing she sees once she opens her eyes,”

Jaehyun sighed and departed the room without another word to shower. Chaelin was right; his disheveled hair, the moons under his eyes, and the untended slash of wound on his cheek greeted him as he stared at his reflection on the mirror. He looked devastated.

The water running through his body and into the tiled floor of the shower were mixed with little flakes of dried blood, a proof that Jaehyun hasn’t washed the memories of their battle in Fairie clean off his body yet. No matter how he thought of it, he always comes back in blaming himself of what happened. It was hard not to when the Queen clearly stated she wanted power more than anything, and that power she longed for belongs to Jaehyun.

He touched his cheek, the wound wasn’t painful but it stings. He needed Doyoung to tend him for the blade that slashed his face was an angel blade. It would have been enough to kill Jaehyun, if the fairie guards were only swifter than him. How had the Queen managed to get an angel blade, he does not have the slightest idea.

Jaehyun thought he was going to die when he couldn’t see Taeyong and the others anymore. He would die and he won’t be able to see you again. But the thought of you back in mortal lands, safe and sound, coerced him to accept whatever fate he had in the Fairie lands. It’s better him, than you.

The Queen had the advantage, or so she thought. All that Jaehyun needed to do was shout— shout that he knew the Queen’s true name. It is the bane of every fairie’s existence; someone knowing their true allonym. For when you knew a fairie’s real name, you’d always be one step ahead of them; you can bend them in your own will. The Queen would never put herself at risk, so she ordered her guards to back down. But it was a lie, Jaehyun lied. He does not know the real name of the Queen. It was pure luck and wit. Yet the trump hand was for Jaehyun to take, so he wasted no time to wrap his hand around the Queen’s throat. Her son, Yuta, did not even flinch by the sight. He was dazed, and out of his head by all the chaos that was happening in front of him.

Then your face was in Jaehyun’s mind as he squeezed the life out of the Queen; you would never want him to kill someone for you, no matter how contemptuous the person might be. So he made the Queen promised to give up her throne for her son instead. She was stripped out of all her title and was secluded in the lone island in Fairie— Jaehyun made sure of that.

Now, Yuta hails as the king of the Fairie lands. He could easily be manipulated. Jaehyun could dispatch him if he ever laid his finger on you again. He made the new king sign a treaty that their kingdom would tithe to Jaehyun until the very last moment of the Faes existence for the trouble they’ve caused him and the danger they’ve put you through. Once they failed to send their tithe, Jaehyun would annihilate them without a thought. Yuta agreed to all of that, because what choice does he have left? Nothing. Jaehyun left him with no choice and a broken kingdom.

He changed into new and clean clothes that was provided by Taeyong. The fit was small but he does not have the time to go home and change for there was a commotion brewing in the living room again. Jaehyun walked out of his room to see what the tumult was about. Some of his comrades are in their wolf form; Johnny, Mark, and Jeno. While the vampires are baring their teeth at the figure standing at the entrance; Yuta.

Jaehyun descended the stairs in a dash, grabbing Yuta’s collar so tight as to stop the breathing of the fairie king. “Do you really wish to die?!” He growled.

The fae king only looked at Jaehyun with depthless eyes, “Before you tear me off to shreds, I would like to ask for your forgiveness,”

Jaehyun bared his teeth, “Well fucker, I don’t have any forgiveness to spare you. So get the fuck away from here.”

“Jaehyun, I think we all need to calm down,” Taeyong commented. Jaehyun would have screamed at him to shut up, if not for the voice that spoke behind him.

“Jaehyun, let him go. I want to talk to him.” It was you. He spun around to face you while still holding Yuta by his collar, you were looking so weakened and pale that it’s a wonder how have you managed to get up from the bed. Chaelin and Yuqi were beside you, guiding you as you descended the stairs.

“Outside, Yuta.” You said, voice hoarse. Jaehyun doesn’t want himself to let go of Yuta not until he’s bleeding underneath him. But the look you gave him was enough to loosen his hold of the fairie king. The longing and the wanting to wrap his arms around you, feel your heart beating against his, vanished and was replaced by a sadness you alone could inflict on him. Yet all he could was watched as you both departed the living room, away from the ruckus and away from him.

—

You heard the voices first— voices of two women speaking about you. Your head swam into the familiar pit of nihility, that you couldn’t even make up the faces nor the voices of the women speaking in normal voices. The heaviness of your body was unbearable, you could not even raise a finger. There was something like acid in your stomach, making the bile rise up in your throat. Two seconds, then you retched all over the floor, the gasps of the women filling the quiet room.

The other woman pushed back your hair and patted your back as you continued to retch, the other woman started to clean off the vomit on the floor. A glass of water was pressed in your mouth after heaving all your intestines out, you forced yourself to sip a little of the liquid. A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt the water grazed down your throat for what seemed like the first time.

You felt cold sweats on your forehead as you try to refocus your sense of sight, your eyelids heavy as you squint to get a clearer and better view around you.

“Y… Yuqi?” Even the vibration of your voice against your throat was painful. You felt as if you were drained out to the bones. After you succeeded in opening your eyes, the familiar face of your little sister welcomed you, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Y/N!” She hugged you as if she never wanted to let go. Is this real? You asked yourself. It felt surreal, to be able to hug your sister like this again. “How are you? Do you need anything? Are you hungry?” She bombarded. You tried to chuckle, but your mouth feels as if they were glued together— the edges of it were viscous with something you could not name.

“No… I… I need a shower,”

“I’ll ready your bath,” The other woman said from beside you. It took you a moment to recognize her because of the blurriness of your eyes.

“Chaelin?” You asked. She smiled the same smile that you remember; sultry yet friendly.

“I am glad that you’ve woken up, Y/N.” She stated, eyes glistening. You tried to smile at her while Yuqi wipes your mouth with a wet towel. Then she gave you a kiss on the top of your head before departing the room. But she halted as the three of you heard shouting from below the floor.

“Do you really wish to die?!” The voice was angry, furious. Your ears are still muffled by the longevity of your slumber that you couldn’t make up whose voice it belongs to.

Chaelin gave you a look of concern before dashing out of the room. When she came back, her breathing was ragged and her eyes are widening. “It’s Jaehyun. With… Yuta.”

Yuta. Instantly, the fear of being trapped to Fairie and the darkness of the dungeons came back to you all at once. Yet you know that you have to talk to him, right now. It doesn’t matter how weak your body feels, or how tired your eyes are, you glanced at Yuqi and Chaelin to guide you down the stairs where the commotion is brewing.

“No,” They both said at the same time. You knew it, of course. Nobody in their right minds would let you face the man who literally planned to steal you away to their kingdom and marry you without you even knowing. But you stubbornly want to get rid of Yuta once and for all. So you stood up, but your knees wobbled. Your sister was quick to put her arms around you to steady your slightly shaking body.

“If you don’t want me to crawl my way down there, you better guide me already.” You chuckled, throat tightening from the rhythm of your voice. They exchanged glances before sighing in exasperation and guided you towards the exit and down to the living room.

You sucked up in a breath upon seeing the view down at the living room; three huge wolves are ready to pounce on Yuta at any second, while the other men are baring their fangs towards him. If you were Yuta, you would have run away and never dare to come back. But what snatched your breath totally away was the man holding him like he wanted to kill him on the same spot he’s standing on; Jaehyun.

You would identify him even from miles away and he feels so far away now, despite the four steps separating you both.

“Jaehyun, I think we all need to calm down.” Taeyong softly told Jaehyun. By the state of Jaehyun, you could swear he would scream at Taeyong and maybe punch him right at his jaw.

So you decided to inhale and speak, “Jaehyun, let him go. I want to talk to him.”

You saw him tensed as he heard your voice. How you wanted to wrap your arms around his, to feel his heart beating against yours. But you need to make things right, or at least you need to make yourself understand why Yuta did what he did. As Jaehyun stood now, facing you, you noticed how tired he looked; there were bags under his eyes, his pale skin doesn’t look healthy– he looked so sick. And there was sadness in his eyes as he looked at you take a step towards Yuta, not to him.

“Outside, Yuta.” You said hoarsely. Yuta has an expression of wanting to guide you towards the yard but you let yourself walk ahead of him even though it pains you to do so. Yuta must’ve seen the agony in your every step for he held your arm but you quickly winced and snatched your arm away from his hold.

You both sat on one of the benches in the yard, the insects and butterflies flying all around you. “Sana, what happened to her?” You felt Yuta’s stare boring into you. The question was unexpected, you supposed.

He cleared his throat, “She’s dealt with, Y/N. I am truly sorry for what she has done to you,” At least, he sounded sincere. You nodded, what’s done is done. Even though she almost succeeded in killing you, you could never bring back the time to change your decisions of trusting her.

“Who are you, Yuta? Why did you lie to me?” You asked him that question while looking at the trees at the distant forest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I am Yuta, and that is all I could offer you.” He sounded apologetic, that you did not push him any further. He is one of the Fae, their nature was a labyrinth of mystery to humans and to you.

“My mother judged me as a noddy for loving a mortal woman when I spoke to her about you,” He started, “but I insisted. No matter what she told me. Then you acquainted me with your new lover, Jaehyun.” You have a bad feeling to where this is going, “The night at the bar, I never would have anticipated him to see behind my glamour. But he did. He confronted and told me that I am not human. Right there, I fathomed out that he is Lucifer,”

The trueness of it still perplexes you. Jaehyun, Lucifer. How is that possible? All your life you’ve believed that Lucifer was locked up into the pits of hell. And only when Jesus Christ comes back to Earth would the devil be released. How old Jaehyun must be to be Lucifer? You couldn’t grasp the reality of it. He was an angel, now he is a fallen.

“I had pondered about it for weeks,” Yuta continued, “Then it thwacked me… like a lightning. What if I ask my mother again, but this time it would not be in vain. I could offer her something; I could offer her the world,” You shifted on your seat, readying yourself for whatever Yuta has in his pockets to tell you. “I told her about your attachment to the Fallen. Then we concocted our vicious plan together. That was to make you as a bait, for the Fallen. So mother could have the authority to bend the Fallen to her will. After she has what she wants, she would let me marry you.”

You nodded, heart suddenly heavy by all your realizations. It was my fault. “But why did you let her throw me into the dungeons?” With that, you let yourself look at the man beside you, to search for the answers in his eyes.

“It was foolish of me not to see it coming,” He looked so pained, “But I did not plan for that to happen. With that, I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Perhaps it was a bad idea to talk to him, perhaps all of these is a bad idea. But how long would you continue to run and be blind by all that is happening? Yuta wanted you, yet you showed that you want nothing to do with him by introducing Jaehyun as your lover. No matter how you see it, all that befell you was because of your own doing.

“I have to go, Y/N.” Yuta stood up, “And this is probably the last time we would see each other,”

You couldn’t bring yourself up to speak, so you watched as Yuta turned and walked away from you. It should make you happy and free, but your conversation with him only made you feel tired than you already are.

“Y/N,” It was Yuqi. “Let’s get you inside.”

—

Yuqi helped as you wash your body, and she is now lathering your hair with watermelon-scented shampoo that was given by Chaelin. She hums while you close your eyes, the conversation you had with Yuta repeating in your mind.

Jaehyun was nowhere to be found when you came back inside the house, Doyoung told you he’s gone to the beaches to unwind. Doyoung’s mansion was marvelous, it has too many corridors leading up to different rooms. It seems like it was built to accommodate their whole group. The isolation of it from the buzzing of the city was perfect for your peace of mind, yet you knew that you couldn’t stay any longer. However, Doyoung insisted you stay for one more night, just to regain your strength that you’ll need for the long ride home tomorrow.

Johnny conversed with you earlier, before you decided to take a bath. He apologized for his carelessness that resulted to you being poisoned. You told him it was your fault for being so naïve. It was Fairie lands, yet you let your vulnerability get the best of you and easily trusted someone who showed you a little bit of kindness. No matter what Yuta did to Sana, you still hoped that she’s alive. Or maybe not. Your feelings are mixed with hatred and pity that you don’t even know what you should allow yourself to feel.

You decided to break the silence, “Aren’t you surprised about everything that’s happened, Yu?” Yuqi sighed, her hands massaging your bubble-coated hair. She was the one you’re the most concerned of. Yuqi is a practical girl— the wolves, the vampires, and the warlocks, must’ve been too shocking for her to comprehend.

“I was. I thought I’d lose my mind from thinking of you in danger. Then Lucas and Chaelin told me I needed to go with them. You know me, I was in doubt first. But I saw the sincerity in Chaelin’s eyes. She wanted me safe, so I packed my things and then we drove here,” She explained, still lathering your hair. You supposed it was too grimy and dirty that she needed to wash it again.

“What did you think of them? They aren’t humans,” You told her while popping the big bubbles on the surface of the water.

“I was… shocked. Perplexed. I might sound stupid, but I do think they’re kind. I mean, they won’t rescue you and they won’t protect me if not, right?” Yuqi then grabbed the head of the shower to rinse your hair, the sound of water dripping filled the whole room. “They are werewolves, vampires, and warlocks. Chaelin told me she’s not one of those. What do you think is her true nature?” Yuqi asked. The conversation was too light, like you were just talking about dinner.

“I don’t know… maybe she’s a witch?” You bit your lips as the words rolled out from your mouth, “Oh no, that sounded rude.”

Yuqi laughed, “It does not. I’ve already asked her about that though.”

“What did she say to you?”

“She said she’s just a naughty girl who defied God,”

“What does that mean?” You closed your eyes as the bubbles from your hair ran down your face.

“I don’t know. But she said her real name’s Lilith,” Yuqi started to rinse your arms, “Do you remember Mama’s story when we were kids? She said Eve isn’t Adam’s original wife, it was Lilith,”

By that, you twirled to Yuqi’s direction. You know the story, but it couldn’t be. “You mean, Chaelin is Lilith? She’s alive and saw Eden?” Your mouth gaped from the realization. Yuqi nodded, a small smile creeping in her lips as she took your surprised expression.

“Yes. And you shouldn’t ask her about it, she really doesn’t wanna talk.” Yuqi then guided you out of the tub to dry your body with the towel. You feel as if you’re a five-year-old girl in her mother’s care. Yet it warms your heart to experience this kind of treatment from your little sister.

“Then how did you squeeze the truth of her identity from her if she doesn’t wanna talk about it?” You raised a brow, Yuqi chortled nervously as she tied the ribbon of the billowy dress behind you. You would have preferred a simple shirt and jeans but Yuqi forgot to bring you clothes, so you ended up wearing the dress bought by Chaelin earlier.

“That’s a secret,” She continued to giggle as she escorted you out of the bathroom and into your room.

After your bath, you came back to your own room to rest and wait for dinner. You offered to help Doyoung and Taeyong but they nicely refused and guided you back to your room instead. Yuqi was nowhere to be found, you supposed she’s with the boy named Lucas, who’s been with her all day while taking care of you.

In the tranquility of the room, you let your mind remember the dream you had with Aurora. Where she told you her true identity. France, one hundred years ago. Jaehyun lived through the pain of losing the love of his life because of time and sickness. You wouldn’t survive that kind of heartache yourself. The idea of it was too complex; how someone would continue to live as the lives of the people around him wink out of existence like a candle blown out by the wind. It was one thing to witness your lover die, but it is another thing to wait for them to reincarnate into another person— without the certainty of when.

Yet the fact that you are Aurora’s reincarnation still makes you uncomfortable and doubtful. Why did she start to show up in your dreams when you began working for Jaehyun? A signal, you thought. Meeting Jaehyun was a signal for your past life to come and crash into your present. Does that mean you’d die, too? You’d die of loving Jaehyun? You’d die because you are tied to him? What a bitter reality. And what a superbly tragic novel it would make.

Would you tell him? Could you burden him with the reality of his lover coming back to life through you? Yet he was your lover one hundred years ago, that Aurora made sure you understand; you shared her life, and she shared yours through your one soul.

“Thou shall bear a love for one soul in a thousand faces, and suffer as the face cease to exist but the soul, perpetually.” You memorized. It was meant for Jaehyun. Because he’s the one who’d love a thousand faces but one soul in his eternity. He would suffer as the face of his lover cease to exist, but her soul would transfer into yet another face— for him to love, for him to cherish, and for him to watch as she wilts away to nothing and back to dust.

You hadn’t realized that you were crying by thinking of all of it; of all the start, and the end, the love, and the lost. Jaehyun was alone. And he would forever be alone. But right now, you’re going to make sure he isn’t. So you wore your slippers, and wrapped yourself in a scarf.

To the shore, you go.

—

It’s been hours. Yet Jaehyun still doesn’t have the energy to come back to the mansion. The moon was a big ball of white hanging in the heavens, yet it was alone, a starless sky. There are bits of sands pressed in Jaehyun’s body, his face tacky from the atmosphere of seawater slapping on it for hours on end. The ocean stretched out in the horizon, its water gleaming silver underneath the moonlight. The only sound accompanying him was the slap of waves into the boulders of rocks. And then there was a rustle.

Jaehyun was on his feet in an instant, the bits of sands flowing back into the shore from his body. The rustle became nearer, then your body emerges from the darkness, looking more paler under the moonlight.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be here.” Jaehyun stated. No matter how happy he was to see you, and to realized that you’d followed him here, he couldn’t bring himself to celebrate because he knew the walk here from the mansion took too much of your energy.

“Would you like me to come back?” You raised a brow, a small smile playing on your lips. No, of course. Jaehyun sighed, and stretched out his hand to you. Your smile spread wider and took his hand, then you both sat on the warm sands.

Silence. The sound of the ocean overwhelmed the whole atmosphere that you shared. Jaehyun still holding your hand as if afraid to let go.

“So… you’re Lucifer.” He heard you chuckle, the sound made his heart jump inside his chest. What an unexpected question. But he nodded.

“I am. Are you scared of me?” Please say no. He wanted to plead before he could hear your answer. The Earth is as old as him, and the mortals branded him as something to disgust, to loath, to contempt. No matter how much he thinks of it, he couldn’t read what would be your reaction to that fact.

“No. Not when you look like that,” He knows it’s a joke. Yet he couldn’t help but make you elaborate.

“Why? What did you expect?”

You searched for his face by leaning closer to him, your eyes searching something with your mouth twisted on the side and your brows knitted together. Jaehyun wanted to kiss you right there and there, but that might ruin the mood.

“I don’t know… maybe red eyes, huge horns, razor-sharp teeth—”

“That’s ridiculous,” A laugh reverberated in Jaehyun’s throat, followed by yours. “But yeah, mortals think that I look like what you just described.”

Jaehyun could feel the tension in your body no matter how you tried to hide it. You were suddenly silent for a moment, your eyes distantly staring at the gleaming waters of the ocean. He looked at you while you looked away. And he’s never seen such beauty before.

“Yuta and I… we’ve talked.” It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But that’s what he needed to know; your conversation with the boy king. You tightened your hold on him before continuing, “It’s my fault Jaehyun,” No. He wanted to protest, and he supposed his face gave away too much of his disagreement for you squeezed his hands tighter, “It is my fault. If I didn’t introduce you as my boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. All of this.” Your eyes gleamed, the tears threatening to come out.

“Do you think Yuta would have thrown away his vicious plan if he’d known about the truth of our relationship? He won’t.” Jaehyun sighed, “Do you know why they captured you?” He asked as he stared right into your irises. He saw in your eyes that you knew why, yet you still believed that all of what transpired was your fault. “Perhaps it’s the bastard fae’s doing, but his mother wouldn’t have agreed of it if she didn’t know about your connection with me,”

“That’s the point, she—”

Even if it pains him, Jaehyun cut you off. “She would think that you were just a mere mortal and she wouldn’t have wasted her time on you,” You were staring at him speechless now, your eyes like a pool of water ready to flow, “But because she knew about the Fallen— about me— she agreed to her son’s plan to lock you up in Fairie.” Jaehyun’s hands were on both of your cheeks now, “The Queen thought she could control me through you. You would have never experienced the trauma and the fear if it wasn’t because of me. You never would have been put through that kind of horror if I didn’t allow myself to love you.”

By his last sentence, your lips quivered, then the silent tears flowed down your cheeks at last. “You…” You breathed, “You love me?” Jaehyun knew then why the sky was starless that night, because the stars and the constellations gathered in your eyes.

Jaehyun nodded, his own lips trembling. “I love you, Y/N. I love you more than life itself,” Jaehyun let his forehead rest against yours while saying the words. And it should make him happy, to be able to hear it from his own lips, to be able to admit it to you. Yet he feels tormented now more than ever, “But… I am not brave enough to face that love, chérie.”

You let out a sob, it was bullet in his heart. Jaehyun feels as if his whole world is in chaos, crumbling before his very eyes.

“Why?” Your voice cracked, then you stood up.

Jaehyun was on his feet too, “If I continue to love you, your life would always be in peril.”

You harshly wiped the tears from your cheeks, and there was hatred in your eyes as you pinned him down with a stare, “Why are you so coward when it comes to me?”

Jaehyun closed his eyes, You’ve fucked up really bad, Jaehyun. “Y/N, you do not understand—” He tried to hold you, but you flinched away from his touch.

“I do, Jaehyun. I understand that you’re not man enough to love me,” Your voice was full of scorn that it made him wince. He never once imagined himself in this position, almost wanting to kneel for your forgiveness. “You did it one hundred years ago, but why can’t you do it now?”

Jaehyun stared at you then, really stare at you. What do you mean? His heart was running a mile as he asked you the question, “What do you mean, Y/N?” Tell me that it isn’t what I think it is. He pleaded with his eyes.

“Thou shall bear a love for one soul in a thousand faces, and suffer as the face cease to exist but the soul, perpetually.” You breathed, “That is your punishment, right. Yuno.” You stated, voice vapid.

How did you know all of that? He wanted to ask you but his throat has gone dry, his voice nowhere to be found. All of his insides are in a frenzy, legs wobbling from the reality of it all. No.

“How… how did you know that name?” Jaehyun was exasperated. He feels as if dying. Yet he clings on to that hope that these are just coincidental. That you don’t really know about his punishment and the name he’d used and spoke only to Aurora one hundred years ago. But when you answered his question, he knew. He knew why God kept you alive. It wasn’t mercy. It’s his punishment after all.

“I know… Because I am Aurora.”

#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun scenario #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenario #jung yuno imagines #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 au #nct127 imagines

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years ago

Text

Undercover- Throne of Glass AU (5)

This one starts with a bit of Manon’s POV from last chapter when she and Dorian goes upstairs.

WARNINGS: Manon speaks about things such as suicide, rape, abuse and human trafficking. It’s nothing that’s in detail, it’s just mentioned. If I have missed a warning, please do let me know so I can change this!!

Full Masterlist.

Undercover Masterlist.

-------

Manon knew Dorian was in the room with her, he would always be by her side when she got like this, but still, part of her felt alone, cold, empty and dead. She was sitting at the foot of their bed and was vaguely aware that he’d come to crouch between her knees to clean off her hands, but she didn’t want to look at him, she didn’t want him to see what was going on inside of her head.

They’d met about a year and a half ago on Tower Bridge. It was the anniversary of her Thirteen’s- her best friends in life, the ones who had always been there -death and she'd been ready to jump that night until he’d showed up. It wasn’t particularly busy considering it was around three in the morning, only a few cars passing her. Of course they’d passed though, she was half dressed and stumbling all over the place, a bottle of vodka in hand as she stood on that ledge. The jump may not have killed her she knew, but it was extremely cold that night and that freezing water would have. People probably thought she was a drug addicted prostitute that deserved what she was about to do. It was almost true, she wasn’t drug addicted but was most definitely a prostitute but after all of this time, she’d accepted that what happened wasn’t her fault and dying wouldn’t change anything. One car had stopped though, very suddenly, sometimes she could still hear the tyres screeching. There was a woman’s voice, shouting, telling someone to get back in the car and then there was a soft, melodic voice saying “Ma’am? It’s quite cold out tonight, how about we get you down and somewhere warm, huh?”

His voice sounded like heaven and she’d found herself turning towards it, her foot slipping on the edge slightly causing her to lose her balance. Much of it was a blur after that and hard to piece together, but she remembered crying out and having arms wrapped around her. Dorian, or mystery man as he was, looked beautiful back dropped by fuzzy streetlights and she couldn’t help the words that had dropped from her mouth. “Are you my Prince Charming?” And then she’d blacked out, waking up hours later with a dreadful hangover and a woman telling her that she could have a home if she wanted it, she could have a purpose. It would have been dumb to say no, considering her circumstances if she had, and the rest was history.

They had never really talked about that night, not really, but the prince thing was an ongoing joke between them. Dorian brought it up whenever she wasn’t feeling the best, saying that ‘her prince had come to save her.’ He was ridiculously dramatic, loving and sweet, she hadn’t realised she’d fallen in love with him until it had crept up behind her.

Manon was brought out of her reverie when there were three gentle taps to her knee, and then Dorian had pushed himself up onto his knees so that his face was directly in front of hers. She tried to look away, but his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her back until her gold eyes met his blue ones and he started speaking in soft tones. “Don’t do that. We stopped hiding from one another long ago, sweetheart. Let me in Manon, let me help.”

She took several deep breaths before pushing forward a little and pressing her forehead against his, linking their fingers together and taking her comfort from the feel of his skin on hers.

“They knew they were about to die and so I think they were taunting me, hoping that somehow I’d end their lives fast. It didn’t work; it just made me go slower. I took out the one Aelin carved up first, he was the rapist. He said things, horrible things about the girls he’d...” She didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to, had to tell him or the thoughts would eat her alive. His face hadn’t changed, still the soft and loving expression he’d worn since she’d come home. “It reminded me of the things those bastards would whisper into my ear, about what they’d do to Asterin, to the others if I kept fighting them.” Her breathing turned ragged and her hands shook a little; she hated talking about what was done to them.

“Hey, shh. It’s alright, I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He whispered the words into the space between their lips and Manon wanted nothing more to fall into his arms, just letting him hold her close but she had to push forward.

“I took out the trafficker next. He sold girls and boys off to whomever paid the highest price. Fucking prick sold them. How can you do that? They were children.” She could feel the tears building behind her eyelids but she blinked them away. “The last one, the one who gave Aelin the information, he was an abusive bastard. He said that women like me held too much power, that we should be beaten into submission. That all men need women for was to use them as some broodmare for breeding.”

She really did start crying then, at the onslaught of memories the pieces of shits had brought back. The sound of her friends’ screams and the sound of Asterin’s final words to her before she’d pushed Manon through that door. We will meet again, in a better world.

Dorian’s arms wrapped around her as he leaned back, pulling her down and onto his lap, cradling her against his chest and tucking her head into his neck. She cried, cried, cried until they turned into broken sobs and from there, just small, hiccupping sniffles. The whole time he just rocked back and forth, murmuring soothing words into her ear whilst he rubbed a hand up and down her back. They stayed together in the peaceful quiet of their room Dorian occasionally mumbling how much he loved her, until a voice, Chaol, called out from downstairs.

“Manon! Dor! Boss wants everyone downstairs.”

She pulled back from Dorian’s neck, staring up into bright blue eyes as he tucked a strand of her white hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to come down love, I’m sure she’d understand if you want to stay up here. You could shower and sleep, it would do you good.”

Manon shook her head before reaching up and holding his hand to her cheek, revelling in the warmth it gave her. “No, I’ll come down, it could be something important.”

He nodded and leaned in to brush their lips together, a soft whisper of a kiss that held promises of what later would bring when they were finally alone. Dorian stood, holding his hands out to help her up and she tangled their fingers and tugged gently, unable to stop herself from saying, “Let’s go then, my Prince.”

She would savour the chuckle he let out as they walked through the door until her last dying breath.

oOoOo

Aelin waited until everyone was inside of her office until she finally answered the phone. Elide, Lys and Lorcan had finally gotten back, Elide saying she’d fill her in on everything later. Manon seemed to be in better spirits, her face no longer dead and blank. As for Rowan, she didn’t know what to think of him. Visibly he looked better when he stepped through the doors, but she knew that was just what he was showing on the surface. Their moment in the garden had done something to her and she couldn’t quite figure out what. He’d basically pulled his heart from his chest and handed it to her. She wasn’t meant to get attached to people like this and yet, deep down inside of her, she knew it was inevitable that she would.

As soon as she tapped accept on the call, she gestured for Elide to start tracing it, everyone holding their breaths as she said, “Sardothien. What do you want?”

There was a slow, lazy drawl from the other end of the line and it made Aelin’s spine go taut. She could see that Lysandra was just the same; neither of them had heard that voice in years. “Now, now, is that anyway to speak to an old friend?”

“We were never friends, Arobynn, we were never anything. Now tell me what you want.”

He laughed gently, as a lover would, making her blood turn cold. Aelin met pine green eyes from across the room, and watched as they went hard and unfeeling at the sound.

“You know what I want, what I’ve always wanted. We could have everything, if only you let yourself realise what you truly want in life.” She couldn’t help the sneer that settled over her face, hands clenched into fists. Aedion received a glare when he moved as if to comfort her; she didn’t need that right now.

“I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again. I will not be your Queen,” she spat the word out, tasting like ash on her tongue, “I will not give you heirs. There will be no us.”

There was more laughter and it made her want to stab something.

“You will come to see that it is what’s best soon enough. How’s the pregnant one by the way? I heard my men were unsuccessful but no matter, I left you a present, hoping you might come around. If not, you know I’m not above forcing you to come home, Aelin.” Son of a fucking bitch. Everyone’s eyes widened around the room, the newbies clearly confused by the name, but she couldn’t focus on that right now, she’d deal with it later.

“What present?” She forced the words through gritted teeth, knowing it was most likely a trap for something but she had to know.

“Out in your dingy little apartment in Poplar, yes I know about that one, I left it there. I do hope it’ll persuade you to change your mind. All of my love.” And then the line went dead. She turned her head sharply to look at Elide, the other woman shaking her head saying that she couldn’t trace it. She upturned her desk, sending its contents flying and making a few of the others to let out sounds of shock.

“I thought I was fucking done with that pile of shit! It’ll get worse now, if I accept this ‘gift’ and don’t go home. He’ll say I’m being ungrateful and go after all of you.” Aelin sighed and rubbed her hand across her forehead, wishing for the headache that was now brewing would just fuck off. She looked up when Lysandra spoke from the other side of the room, voice steady and determined.

“You aren’t going back to that hell hole, Ace, you aren’t going back to him. We’ll go see if there’s actually anything at the apartment and then we’ll deal with everything else. Do you understand me?”

She sighed and nodded at her friend, wanting to get this over with so they could finally sleep. Her plans and schemes were better after she rested and she could think rationally. Slipping into their boss, their leader, she ordered, “Blackbeak, Havilliard, Salvaterre and Whitehorn. You’re all coming with me. We move out in ten minutes so get all of your gear together fast. We have to be prepared for everything.” They all nodded in consent and everyone began filing out of the room but not before added on, “Keep your wits about you, just in case he knows about this place too.”

Aelin went to start cleaning up and jumped slightly, realising that Rowan was still in the room. He was looking at her weirdly, but she didn’t have time to think about it before the look disappeared and he walked over to stand in front of her. Tentatively, he brought his hand up in front over her face, hesitating a little and searching her eyes for an answer. Words weren’t working for her and she could feel the heat of him in the space between them, and so she simply leaned into his hand. Rowan let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief, cupping her jaw and rubbing a thumb along her cheekbone. “Are you alright? What he said, what he was asking for, that was...”

He trailed off knowing that what Arobynn had said could only be taken one way. “I’m alright, I promise. You didn’t have to stay, you know, I won’t break.”

His smile was soft, happy and his eyes were full of something she couldn’t place, looking as though they sparkled a little in the dim lights of her office. “I don’t think anyone could break you, Aelin. What’s up with that anyway?”

She rolled her eyes at him, raising a hand to hold his wrist, squeezing lightly. “I’ll tell you, but later, we have things to do. Now go.”

The backs of his fingers stroked down her cheek, sending shivers down her spine before he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered closed at the touch but when she opened them again he was gone. Gods, he was making her feel things she’d never felt before, not even those days with Sam had made her feel like this. Aelin shook her head to clear it of the thoughts of silver hair and green eyes. She would deal with all of that another time.

Right now, she had to go deal with the wannabe King’s bullshit. By the end, she’d make him pay for every last atrocity he’d committed, and then revel in the aftermath.

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Oooo Arobynn his being a little fucker... If you want to be added/removed from the tags then just give me a shout! I’m not sure iff all of the tags are working so if not I’ll keep trying to fix it:) More insight on the boys next week!!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up @mad-madeline-ace @df3ndyr @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish @carbconnoisseur @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

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