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swiftsaltsweet · 10 days ago

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The Hunt for Kyoshi: Chapter 13: Kyoshi-The Present

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (plus whoever appears in Rok)

Pairing: Rangshi

Summary:

“What are we going to do?” She asked steely, still not looking up from the ground. She was ready to uphold her duty, or at least, what remained of it. “We need you to capture Kyoshi,” Jianzhu instructed. “Capture?” “Yes, we need to set an example of an Avatar murderer,” Jianzhu responded, oh so matter of factly again.

(Canon Divergent AU- “What if Rangi wasn’t there when Kyoshi ran away, and Rangi had to hunt her down?)

Other Sites: AO3

A/N: *dragging my corpse across the finish line* ヽ(´ཀ`」∠) I will release a chapter a week. I won’t go on hiatus again… *sob* ヽ(´ཀ`」∠) The amount of times I’ve gotten sick not long after I open up a Hunt word doc is actually low key astounding, it’s kind of comical ngl (yes I will keep bringing it up every time it happens cause it’s kinda funny). I’m starting to think it’s a pavlovian response now. (Was really lucky I had buffers ready to go ;w;)

(also, yay, I published this before Saturday. I deserve a cookie. Also happy 50K words, and I apologize for yapping in this chapter way too much ;_;)

(Oh, and if anyone likes the little flashback parts, I started a canon compliant prequel fic called "Yokoya Days." It's episodic, and obvie the endgame is in the main novel, so no officially dating Rangshi content sadly. u_u Buuuuuut it’s an excuse to write cute gay-by Rangshi, and yearning!Rangi so jfksafj So there’s still Rangshi content just not the endgame kind)

Also, anyone who’s read Two Knives may have noticed a familiar village’s name. This was not planned, but when I went to name the village… I realized the placement was in a similar spot so yeah. 8U Reference~! *falls over* *picks myself back up* Almost forgot the important thing.

Trigger Warning: Suicide ideation and planning a suicide (is there a word for that? Suicidal intent?).

Sorry for the late TW ;w; Should I put this in the tags? (if so tell me how best to tag it TT0TT)

__________

Kyoshi’s heart was pounding like no tomorrow. Of all the days there had to be some banquet, did it have to be today?! Banquets were already nerve wracking enough, but it was almost excruciating for a day like today!

Today wasn’t just any old day, it was a special day. It was Rangi’s birthday!

And Kyoshi had yet to give her present to her fiery friend. The only free time either of them had would’ve been in the early reaches of the morning, but Rangi had left early with her mother for something relating to her birthday.

By the time the Fire Nationals had returned, the servants were chin deep dealing with what needed to be done with the banquet. Kyoshi had only one brief window of opportunity to talk to Rangi so far, and it had been to request that they talk again later when everything had quieted down.

“Rangi,” Kyoshi whispered behind a door the soldier was stationed at, careful not to be seen by the guests.

Rangi didn’t turn her head, ever the attentive soldier on duty, but she did lift her chin slightly to show acknowledgement. “Hm?”

“When the banquet’s over, meet me by the crop garden, it’s important.”

Rangi’s body stiffened at Kyoshi’s words, between that and her steely features, one would think she was angry. But Kyoshi saw a light flush on the tips of Rangi’s ears and knew her friend was excited for the meet up.

And now the moment was coming. And fast!

It was fine. She shouldn’t be this nervous. She was just giving her friend a present for spirits sake! She hadn’t been nervous when she helped chipped in for Rin’s, a fellow servant’s, comb on her birthday. So this shouldn’t be any different!

But it was different. It was Rangi. She wasn’t just Kyoshi’s friend, not even just her best friend. Rangi was someone Kyoshi admired, someone she looked up to intensely. She was strong, skilled at everything, capable and beautiful and–

Kyoshi shook her head. Lately her mind had started to drift towards something that was beyond simple admiration. She didn’t know what it meant, but whatever it was, it was now making her more nervous.

Regardless of her wayward feelings, she really did want Rangi to like her present, she’d put a lot of thought into it. But now the doubts were seeping into her head like black tar. Slowly sticking to every good thought and sinking it to the bottoms of their depths.

Kyoshi was pretty sure Rangi came from some kind of nobility in the Fire Nation, her mother held a high status as the ex-Headmistress of a Fire Nation academy. Couple that with being Avatar Kuruk’s companion, and now the firebending Sifu of Avatar Yun… Well… Hei-Ran was probably accustomed to money. Which meant Rangi was accustomed to it as well.

Which meant… Rangi may be accustomed to higher quality items.

“I’ve seen better made ones,” Rangi from months ago stated, it was about something on a new robe that had come in for Jianzhu. Yes she’d made comments like that countless times with all the various gifts for Yun and Jianzhu that came in. Rangi always had an eye for quality.

And so, Kyoshi was now doubled over in her own mind, wondering if what she got could meet the firebender’s level of quality.

Oh forget if it’s good quality! I–I’m not overstepping anything, am I?!

Unfortunately for Kyoshi, quality wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about. With different nations came different customs. What could be seen as fine in the Earth Kingdom, could start a war in the Fire Nation. And so on and so on.

It should be good, right? I mean– Fire Nationals like their hair! So wouldn’t getting something like this make them happier than most?

It wasn’t like she could ask Hei-Ran if the present was a good idea, she wasn’t close to the woman and she wasn’t sure she could keep a secret. She also feared accidentally insulting the older woman in case it was an issue, especially if it meant barring Rangi from ever interacting with Kyoshi again.

So she settled with asking others that could keep a secret. Such as Auntie Mui! When she ran the idea by Auntie Mui and some other maids they seemed to think it was a fine idea. She would’ve double checked with Kelsang but he was away on some relief mission for his temple.

So Kyoshi bought the gift. Foolishly. Kyoshi was so keen on getting this particular gift for Rangi, she actively chose to ignore her rational side saying ‘You haven’t gotten confirmation from a Fire National yet, idiot! You know, the ones that actually matter in this scenario!’

She usually had a cautious side to her, but…damn it! She could be so damn stubborn when it came to something she wanted. And she really wanted to give this particular present to Rangi!

So here she stood, waiting to give a present to her friend she secretly admired; unsure if it was going to end with her falling on her own sword.

For the briefest of moments, Kyoshi thought to just bail. Say she forgot it and just get another present some other time! Not that she had much money, most of her savings went to this gift. But she’d figure something out!

Just as she was about to send energy to her feet to take a step away, a voice appeared behind her. “You know, you kind of look like a statue. Standing there…all stiff like.”

Kyoshi recognized that warm, raspy voice, and squeaked with a slight jump. She quickly turned around to see Rangi.

She looked extra pretty today. Her hair had a sparkly sheen to it, and her skin looked smoother and softer than usual. Perhaps she went to a spa with her mother? Or she applied makeup for the special day? Whatever it was, Kyoshi couldn’t help but think it was a shame the girl had to be relegated to some corner of the mansion on guard duty rather than taking center stage at the party like she should’ve.

“Did I scare you?” Rangi chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.”

“Oh please, the only person who has softer footsteps than me is you!” Kyoshi grinned at her friend, quickly hiding her present behind her back.

Rangi flashed Kyoshi a sly grin at the movement, and it took all of Kyoshi’s effort to keep a sudden heat from rising in her cheeks.

“So you had something you wanted to give me?” She raised an eyebrow as she made a slight motion to peek around Kyoshi, but didn’t fully commit to the action. She was going to let Kyoshi take her time, but she’d tease her slightly while she waited.

Kyoshi laughed, trying to calm her nerves. “Yeah, is it that easy to tell?”

“Just a little,” she made another playful, but non-committal motion to peek around Kyoshi. “I heard from a little birdie it’s something important?”

“Oh? And what did this birdie look like?”

Rangi tapped her forefinger to her chin, pretending to think. “She was… pretty…” Kyoshi felt her heart stop for a second. “–tall.” Rangi finished with a cough. “Pretty tall. With long hair and a lot of freckles.”

Kyoshi felt her heart restart, it was flavored with both relief and disappointment. She didn’t understand the strange emotion so she decided to file it away to confront later. “Well darn, I hate to tell you this Rangi, but I’m part bird.”

Rangi placed a hand over her chest and fake gasped. “My my, Kyoshi! Just how many secrets do you have?”

“Tons!” Kyoshi beamed at Rangi, it was always fun when she got the firebender to show off her more playful side. So much so that she easily ignored the pang of guilt that hit her. There were a lot of secrets Kyoshi had, ones that were forced upon her, ones she didn’t want, ones that were outside her control. And she was always afraid that Rangi wouldn’t look at her the same if they ever came out.

Rangi’s opinion, especially of Kyoshi herself, always seemed to matter greatly to Kyoshi for some reason.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to uncover them all, one by one,” Rangi gave another sly grin, followed by a giggle. Kyoshi had the sudden wish that she could capture the sound so she could listen to it whenever she wanted, it was heavenly.

Kyoshi pushed the strange thought away, and moved the present from around her back to hand to Rangi. Rangi stopped giggling and looked at it with surprise. “I–uh, you said you liked starpoppies so…”

Kyoshi had wrapped the real present in a plain package, but she’d tied it with a ribbon and expertly woven the stems of the starpoppy flowers around the ribbons to give it more flare. Maybe she went a bit too overboard? It looked more like a bouquet than it did garnish for the wrappings. She was so focused on prettying up the plain box with all the free flowers she could find that she hadn’t noticed the overabundance.

Rangi gingerly took the box with a look of… awe? Yes, awe. Awe was good. Kyoshi could work with awe. As long as Rangi hadn't thought the packaging was too beneath her to even hold, then Kyoshi could work with just about anything!

“Oh, Kyoshi,” Rangi said breathlessly. “It’s–it’s beautiful! Thank you–”

“T–the real present is inside the box!” Kyoshi put her hands up, realizing Rangi thought she just got her flowers only. The thought of only giving Rangi flowers made her stomach flip flop and her heart race. The want and need to do that, and the fear of doing it hitting her at the same time. The conflicting emotions were really making Kyoshi’s head spin.

“Oh!” Rangi's cheeks were dusted pink. Embarrassed to have assumed. “Sorry the box was just so pretty I–”

Kyoshi laughed, she hoped her nerves weren't showing through. “It’s fine. Open it! Open it!”

Open it before I melt into the ground! Kyoshi cried internally.

But Rangi didn't open it. She worried her lip instead.

“Is something the matter?” Kyoshi asked, wringing her hands.

“No… I just don't know how to open it without ruining the arrangement…”

Kyoshi breathed a sigh of relief. She was just worried about ruining the box! And… Kyoshi was now kicking herself over the packaging. Why did she go so overboard?! “T–then I’ll help you!”

When Rangi gave a nod of approval, Kyoshi moved her hands alongside the box, not realizing how much of a bad idea it was. As she did, she accidentally grazed Rangi’s hands with her own and froze.

Rangi’s hands were very warm, and silky despite the career she was in. Her fingers were long and elegant and well groomed, but her hands size still paled in comparison to Kyoshi’s massive hands. When she first met Rangi, Kyoshi was originally envious of the girl for various reasons; but especially Rangi’s hands. Kyoshi never did like her own much, but at some point, that envy started to change. She envied whatever those hands came in contact with, she wanted to covet their touch instead.

And every single time she had the honor of her and Rangi’s skin grazing just a bit, she’d feel her brain come to a complete stop just to relish in the nice feeling.

There was a long beat of silence as the two girls just stood there, staring at the box they were both holding. Kyoshi should move, she should really move, but the feeling of Rangi’s hand next to hers had her welded into place.

In the end it was Rangi who first spoke up. “Kyoshi… are you going to…” she trailed off, clearing her throat. Kyoshi felt her press the edge of her hand into Kyoshi’s, possibly as a helpful nudge. It just grounded Kyoshi to the spot even more.

Kyoshi forced herself out of her reverie. “Y–yeah, it’s just, um. A little harder than I thought it might be.”

I don’t want to move away just yet…

“I–I see,” Rangi responded in a soft voice.

They stood there for a brief moment, neither moving. Kyoshi was grateful the moon’s light wasn’t that bright, it covered up the deep flush she could feel rising along her whole body. She was torn between mentally kicking herself for being weird, and enjoying what she could out of the moment.

It took all of Kyoshi’s effort, but she finally jump-started her body again, and moved her hand away from Rangi’s. As she helped unwrap the ribbons and flowers, she couldn’t help but let her hands graze Rangi’s at every opportunity she could. She was like an addict to a drug or an alcoholic to the sweetest wine.

Eventually, the ribbons and flowers were finally relinquished from the package. Kyoshi held them gingerly in her hands as she watched Rangi open the box with bated breath.

She watched as Rangi’s fingers picked the top off the box and lifted at such a slow, excruciating rate. She watched as Rangi registered what was in the box, and how her eyes widened to a size Kyoshi had never seen before. Instantly, dread started to course through her.

I messed up! Kyoshi thought. There was no way that was a good or happy expression on her friend’s face.

“Kyoshi…” Rangi whispered, her voice was barely audible. “Is this…?”

“I know it’s not much!” Kyoshi started a little too loudly, Rangi finally looked up from the box and jumped at the sudden volume change. Kyoshi tried to tamper it down, but was only able to by a little, she was in crisis mode. “I know you probably have fancier hairpins, but I– I saw this and thought it’d look perfect on you and…”

Kyoshi's gaze drifted towards the ground as she finished her sentence. She couldn’t look at Rangi, all her courage was zapped from her. Anxiety was thrumming through her like no tomorrow.

“You… saw this and… thought of me?” Rangi finally replied. Her voice was soft, not angry, not hurt. Gentle. So gentle, it eased some of Kyoshi’s anxiety, and gave her the courage to lift her head to look at Rangi once more.

Her eyes were boring into Kyoshi’s, piercing as always. But they were…tender, fragile. Kyoshi felt the need to tread very carefully.

“Well yeah, I thought since Fire Nationals really care about their hair… That you might…enjoy…a gift like…this…” She wrung her hands together for a moment. “Your hair’s important to you, so I wanted to give you something for it. Because you’re important to me.”

Kyoshi watched as Rangi’s pupils dilated for the briefest second, as if understanding was hitting her. “Oh, I see.”

Kyoshi felt her heart sink for a moment before the sound of light laughter caught it. Rangi was smiling and looking at her present fondly.

“Is something…funny?”

Rangi shook her head, “No, it's just– Well, I was actually thinking about getting a new pin. I guess I was so shocked I thought you may have been a mindreader.”

She shook her head, as her laughter built to her unrestrained choking sound. Her face filled with mirth and pure delight set Kyoshi's heart ablaze. She'd made the right choice, Rangi liked her gift.

Finally Rangi calmed down and caught her breath. “This is the most thoughtful–no, best gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, Kyoshi, I love it. I'll treasure it always.” She flashed Kyoshi a smile full of such blazing joy, Kyoshi felt her lungs starting to fail her.

How can anyone be this beautiful?

“I'm glad.” Kyoshi smiled back, just barely able to find the air to speak.

“Hey, hold this for me, I want to try it on.” Rangi held the box out for Kyoshi to hold. Kyoshi maneuvered the bouquet in her hands to one side and held the box as Rangi swapped out the old pin with the new one

After she was done fussing with her hair, Rangi took the box back. “So? How does it look?”

She made a show of moving her head so Kyoshi could see from various angles.

Beautiful. “You look gr–It looks great on you.”

Rangi flashed her another dazzling smile, and then took a step forward and started readjusting Kyoshi’s lapel, it must’ve gotten messed up. Kyoshi stood there like she really was a statue, her life’s calling to not move and let the fiery girl do whatever she wanted with her.

“I… actually have a present for you too. I’ve been meaning to give it to you for quite some time…”

Kyoshi silently swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “You have? Why?” Why would Rangi want to give her a present?

Rangi chuckled as her hands moved upwards to fix Kyoshi’s collar. “Yes, it’s a birthday gift of sorts.”

“I don't know my birthday though…”

“You still have one regardless. We can choose any day you like, but you're getting this present now whether you like it or not!”

Kyoshi chuckled. “Ok, ok. So where is it?”

“It's…in my room,” Rangi said, smoothing a hand over Kyoshi's shoulder, finishing fixing whatever mess Kyoshi's kimono had gotten itself in. Her hand lingered at the edge of Kyoshi's shoulder.

Kyoshi’s swallowed thickly. Something in the atmosphere felt heavy, but she wasn’t sure what was creating it. “Oh? Should we go there now?”

Rangi slid her hand down from Kyoshi’s shoulder to her bicep as she looked at Kyoshi up through her eyelashes. Kyoshi watched as her heart shaped lips parted–

“Heeeeeey!” a voice in the night yelled in their direction.

Both girls jumped at the voice, and quickly took a step back. A moment ruined.

“So this is where you two ran off to!” Yun beamed at them.

Rangi gave a small bow. “Avatar.”

Rangi looked completely at ease. Like there hadn’t been any weird energy between her and Kyoshi. For some reason that bothered the taller girl.

Yun waved his hand at her and pouted. “C'mon Rangi! We've been friends for how long now? Drop the formalities already!”

“Yeah…” Rangi clicked her tongue. “Not gonna happen.”

Yun looked at her aghast and turned to Kyoshi. “Did you hear that Kyoshi?! Insubordination!”

Rangi raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you going to do? Punish me?”

Yun gave her a sly grin. “That I might!”

Kyoshi giggled at her friends’ antics. “C'mon Yun, go easy on her. It's her birthday!”

“Oh alright, I'll let you off easy this time!” he grinned.

“Well aren't I just so lucky to have such a generous Avatar,” she said sarcastically, but her smile took away any bite it was supposed to have.

The three laughed and Kyoshi watched as the two continued their banter. And slowly everything felt like it started to fade away.

____________________________

Kyoshi woke up to the ass crack of dawn shining in the sky and directly into her eyes. Upon waking up, she started lightly bouncing the back of her head against the ground she laid on. “Stupid… stupid… stupid… stupid…” she chanted.

Her younger self (by like barely a year) had been so stupid. How could she have not seen the signs that she was falling for Rangi by then? Was it because she was still getting over her shallow crush on Yun?

Maybe things could’ve been different if she was more aware. More honest with herself. At least, if Kyoshi and Rangi had gotten together before all of this, perhaps maybe Rangi would've at least heard her out?

Well… that was assuming Rangi liked her back. Kyoshi still wasn’t convinced by Kirima’s past analysis.

“Stupid… stupid… stupid…”

“Yeah, yeah. We know you are, but I’mma need you to shut up,” Lek’s annoying voice yawned. “Some of us wanna sleep. Ow!” Lek cried out in time with a thud.

“Get up!” Kirima said, kicking him again.

“Wha–ah–why?” Lek bemoaned.

“There’s a town over that hill, and we want to scope some things out,” Wong explained.

Kyoshi got up and stretched. She wasn't too sore anymore, thanks to Kirima's healing. Even if it did take her a few days to fully heal her…

I really need to learn waterbending soon. The sooner she was self-sufficient, the sooner she became a bending master… the sooner she was a fully realized Avatar, the sooner she could have her revenge. And the sooner Rangi…what?

Could they go back to the way things were after Jianzhu was finally dead? Would her friend be able to look at her the same way? An Avatar, hands still bathed in blood of a previous Avatar’s companion? Who would want to stay by such a barbarian’s side? Surely not her more noble friend…

Kyoshi shook her head, trying to bade the dark thoughts away. She clapped her hands together, dusting them off. “What are we looking for? Joints to hit? Or are we buying things this time?”

“Depends,” Kirima said. “We aren’t in dire straits just yet Baby Daofei, so we can take our time scoping out this job.”

Kyoshi shrugged and started to follow after her two seniors. She felt grimy, and her hair was most certainly a mess, but they could most likely find a place to wash up in the town, or find a nearby river later.

“Girl, let's have our meditation time after we get back,” Lao Ge said, saddling up next to her.

“Back off old man, I get to bully her first!” Lek said, chasing after the group. “You totally need more control, especially if Gorgeous is gonna keep coming after ya!”

Kyoshi sighed. She really hoped she wouldn't have to use any violence against Rangi again.

_______

The village they were in, apparently called Hongcun Village, was surprisingly bigger than Kyoshi would’ve thought. It was sandwiched just Southeast of Omashu, and Southwest of the Si Wong Desert, and was apparently known as a hotspot for trading.

She didn’t like how close she was getting to Yokoya, but perhaps that was the safest place? Maybe Jiazhu was too focused on his efforts to find her far away; he wouldn't realize she was so close to home… Right?

Regardless, she needed to be careful.

As they walked the streets, something started catching her attention. She noticed how much attention was being drawn towards them. This wasn’t normal. Sure, she’d draw some attention usually because of her height. But these stares… They were lingering on her for too long. It set her teeth on edge.

Her jaw flexed as they walked, trying to keep her expression as neutral as she could, trying to stave off her fear and anxiety. If she wasn’t careful, the wrong people would smell blood.

She needed to warn the rest of her team, something was up. But how could she do it without drawing attention? Well… More attention.

Before she could voice her worries, her field of vision was obscured suddenly, something wet hitting her in the face. As she brought her hands up to wipe at whatever hit her, trying to remain calm, she felt her body being roughly shoved and was being pushed along somewhere.

She was just about to spiral into a real panic when a familiar voice spoke up.

“Ugh! Watch where ya aiming, old man!” Lek complained.

“The hell’s the matter with you, Gramps?” Wong’s low, melodic voice said. Kyoshi felt a strong hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my dear,” Lao Ge’s voice said, apologetically. “My bending isn’t what it used to be. I was trying to move the mud, not fling it at you!” Kyoshi felt his hand on her arm, coaxing it away from her face discreetly. Well, at least Kyoshi knew what was probably on her face. But why would he intentionally blind her like this?

“Well, nothing we can do now. C’mon Jesa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Kirima said from behind her, her slender hand was on Kyoshi’s back, coaxing her forward.

Jesa?! Does she mean me?! What’s going on?!

Kyoshi wanted to argue with her group, especially for calling her by her mother’s name! But a small voice in her head told her to go along with it. They were weird, but this was out of the ordinary, even for them.

Kyoshi let herself be blindly pushed around for what felt like multiple minutes, before she was unceremoniously shoved into a seat of some sort.

“What the hell, kid?!” Kirima angry-whispered. There was the sound of paper rustling in front of her. “What the hell is this?”

“W–what?” Kyoshi spluttered out as she wiped at her face, she stopped when she felt someone smack her hands. “What the hell–?”

“Don’t wipe that away!” Kirima chided, the paper rustled in front of Kyoshi’s face yet again.

“Well if you want me to look at something, I very well can’t do that with all this crud in my eyes!”

“Fine! Only the eyes!”

So Kyoshi did just that, carefully wiped the mud out of her eyes so she could see what Kirima was waving in front of her. When she finally opened them, she saw her face staring back at her.

Kyoshi’s eyes widened as she registered what she saw.

It was a very detailed portrait of her face, making sure to get her appearance down even to her iconic freckles. It read:

WANTED – Kyoshi Earth Kingdom Citizen Sixteen year old female with brown skin, brown hair and gray eyes. Distinct freckles on face. Nearly 7 feet tall, may be armed and dangerous. Use extreme caution. By order of the Avatar Yun and Earth Sages, please report all findings of her to a nearby lawman.

There it was, her name, the characters of ‘empty’ or ‘worthless’ and ‘child’ being the ever great reminder of who she really was. She was accustomed to her fitting name, but what set her blood on edge was the use of the Avatar’s decree.

The fact Jianzhu would go as far as to still use Yun’s name after all that he had–

“Why is the Avatar after you?!” Kirima cut off Kyoshi’s spiral by shoving the paper into her face yet again. “I thought you said it was your boss! Some Sage, no?

Kyoshi was reeling. Oh no, what if they abandon me? And so close to Yokoya too! She’d never survive, not what she was essentially in Jianzhu’s backyard!

“He is!” Kyoshi quickly whispered back. “I don’t know what’s going on!”

“You don’t know? But the Avatar is on your case?” Kirima raised an eyebrow. “Just tell us if you stole something–”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Kyoshi blurted out a tad too loudly. Then she continued more quietly. “That man, my boss, he… He killed some people I cared about…”

“And you got set up to take the fall?” Wong questioned.

“Not exactly, it’s complicated.”

“But still the Avatar is–” Lek started.

“It’s a lie!” Kyoshi hissed. “The Avatar is not involved in this. It’s just a ploy from my boss to scare me into appearing. Y–Avatar Yun will not appear at all, I can assure you!”

It wasn’t the complete truth, but it also wasn’t a complete lie. But she didn’t feel comfortable telling the members of the Flying Opera Company that weren’t Lao Ge, that Avatar Yun was dead. That, and the longer it took for them to know she was the Avatar the better.

Kirima pinched the bridge of her nose. “So you say but how can we–”

“Knives and thunderbolts! Remember?” Kyoshi looked at them all with a hardened expression. “That’s what would happen to me if I lied. I’m not lying. Avatar Yun isn’t involved.”

She was very careful with her wording. Her misdirection. Working within the code she needed to follow so she could exploit them.

“My boss is a powerful man, who can call in favors like this,” Kyoshi started confessing. If she gave them a little more information, just to garner their sympathy, maybe they’d let it be. “He killed my loved ones and…wants me.” She said the last bit of her sentence like she ate something foul. She hated the insinuation, but it would most likely gain her the most points. And again, her word of choice wasn’t wrong. The daofei's assumptions may be, but that’s not her fault, right?

A round of disgusted noises from the back of throats were heard.

“Ok, fine, kid,” Kirima grimaced at the ground. Then she put a hand over her face and shook her head. “I get it, we get it.”

“Don’t worry, we’re still going to help you out,” Wong comforted, patting Kyoshi on the shoulder.

“Ok, but, what are we going to do about her face?” Lek asked. “We can keep calling her Jesa, but…” He gestured to her whole being. “The rest of her is gonna stand out.”

Wong nodded. “We can probably fix that, but maybe we should leave. Let’s head South, maybe to Yokoya, or Quinch–”

“No! We can’t go to Yokoya! Not even Qinchao! They’re too close!” She didn’t want to be too obvious where she’s from, because it was possible they could piece together that her boss was Jianzhu.

“Wait, are we actually near where you work?!” Kirima demanded.

“If we go South we will be!”

Kirima pinched her brow again and then looked at the wanted poster. “We should be ok.” She ran a finger down the page, and the picture smudged a bit. “These are new, it’s possible they only just put them up. As long as we address the key issues now, while people are still new to these posters, we should be able to stay here for another day or so.”

“We very well can’t just run out of here now. Someone will surely chase us if we act that reckless. It’s better to act natural and not draw attention to ourselves,” Lao Ge advised.

Kyoshi nodded, trying to follow along. “Ok, so how are we going to…address me?” Were they going to hide her away with Pengpeng? Wasn’t the most glorious fate, she also hated the idea of being by herself. Both as deadweight for the team, and possibly being open for Rangi to kidnap her…again.

“Well, we’re going to need a new look for you!” Kirima said, grabbing Kyoshi by the arm and dragging her away from their sworn brothers, and down multiple winding back alley pathways.

“Wait, a make-over? At a time like this?!” Kyoshi questioned the woman’s sanity.

“No, you dolt! We need a new disguise!” she chided. “You’ve already drawn attention with that get up, but if we change how you look now we’ll probably be fine.”

Kirima approached a locked door, and used waterbending to open it, then she shoved Kyoshi inside. She expertly navigated them once inside, it looked almost like a private spa area. It was probably a really expensive place, if they went about paying for it.

“What in the–” Kyoshi looked at the warm, crystal water in the tub. It was much too fancy, only high end nobles would come to such a place.

Kirima put her finger up to her mouth, indicating Kyoshi to be quiet. Then she pointed at a chair for Kyoshi to sit in. She disappeared around the corner for a moment, there were sounds of clicking and rummaging and then reappeared with a soft, white robe and a bucket.

“Get undressed and wash up with this. Once you’re done, change into this robe. I’m going to get some supplies. Don’t worry about the door, no one is getting in here.”

Kirima left out the same way they came. Kyoshi waited until she heard the clicking sound of the lock Kirima had picked earlier before getting undressed. She took the bucket and dunked it in the warm water, careful not to get the water dirtied, and brought it over to the designated washing station. The tub was meant for soaking in, not for washing.

She quickly and quietly scrubbed all the grime off of herself. Easy enough, especially with water and soap nearby. She was done in only a handful of minutes, the time restraint for washing back at the mansion came in handy.

As soon as she finished tying the sash of the white bathrobe, she heard the click of the outside lock again, and Kirima came sauntering in.

“Huh, you’re done already? You’re faster than I thought,” she said, sounding slightly impressed.

Kirima entered with a bundle in each arm, and started unpacking one. She pulled out a mortar and pestle, a smaller waterskin, and a large handkerchief full of elderberries. The last thing she pulled out was a makeup kit, and put it to the side.

She poured the berries and the contents of the waterskin into the mortar, and started mixing them together. The dark liquid that came out of the skin and the sharp smell made Kyoshi’s nose twitch.

“Is that wine?” she asked.

Kirima nodded.

“Why? What are you making?”

“Hair dye, we’re going to darken your hair to black. Then, we’re going to put you in makeup,” she nodded to the makeup kit.

Kyoshi grimaced, she hated the white gunk that Auntie Mui begged her to put on her face. But she didn’t complain, whatever kept them all safe.

Kirima quickly went to work with Kyoshi, working the mixture into her hair, and making sure it only dyed Kyoshi’s hair and not her skin. It helped that she was a waterbender. After she finished dyeing and drying her hair, she quickly worked Kyoshi’s hair into an intricate design. After that ordeal was done, she got to work with Kyoshi’s makeup.

“I’m going to style it more like a maiko’s than our usual opera style we use on jobs. It’ll be a tad extravagant, but not out of the ordinary, ok?” She said, not really asking permission. Kyoshi just gave her a hum of approval, afraid of messing up the makeup as she dabbed it onto her.

Once she was done, Kirima assessed her handiwork with almost a somber look on her face.

“What? What’s the matter?”

But Kirima didn’t say anything, just shook her head.

Annoyed and puzzled, she pulled her face away from Kirima and went to a mirror. What was staring back at her almost made Kyoshi scream and run for the hills. The face of her mother, Jesa stared back at her. Memories of her mother in geisha and maiko style makeup flooded Kyoshi’s mind. Were they playing with the makeup? Hiding from lawmen? Or having a night of celebration? That…Kyoshi couldn't remember.

She’d forgotten about it until now, she didn't realize she had any memories left buried.

While Kyoshi grappled with her new emotions, Kirima retrieved the other bundle and unwrapped a long, blue, silk gown. There wasn’t anything too flashy or expensive about it, and the color had faded a tad, but it still looked nice. “This’ll do for today. I recommend changing into your nicer silk clothes back at camp. You know, the green one?”

Kyoshi knew which ones she meant. She’d only brought a handful of clothes, the ones Kyoshi was wearing today was her old maid attire. But the outfit Kirima was referencing was the same outfit Jianzhu had gotten her for her trip to meet the Fifth Nation. She’d tried her best not to wear it as much as possible. Hated the fact she still owned anything that was from him. But she kept it for its sturdiness. It was best she started wearing it more frequently, especially with how hard Rangi hit…

Kyoshi quickly changed while Kirima cleaned up, then they left like two thieves in the metaphorical night, the entire place looking about as undisturbed as when they first entered. She quickly followed Kirima down the alleyways until they found their way back to their brethren.

Lao Ge was the first one to notice them, and gave her his wide, partially toothy grin. “My my, you’ve outdone yourself, Kirima. And you’re back faster than I thought to boot!”

Kirima flourished her hand, presenting Kyoshi. “It helped that I had a patient guinea pig mouse.”

“You look good,” Wong said affectionately, his hand coming down onto Kyoshi’s head to give a gentle pat.

“Touch her hair and you’ll be eating out of a pond reed for a damn week,” Kirima warned.

Wong instantly retrieved his wayward hand, and coughed.

“Eh, I dunno. She looked better with the mud on her face,” Lek said, his tongue sticking out. Which he bit when he got a wallop upside his head from Wong. “Ow!” And then cried again when Kirima water whipped his tush. “Ow, hey, quit it!”

“You insulting my handiwork, you little shit?” Kirima huffed.

“What? No! It’s not your fault you had a shitty canva– Ow!”

“Don’t be rude to your sister!” Wong griped at Lek, bopping him on the top of his head again.

“Ok ok! Fine! You look fine!” Fine was a pretty high compliment coming from Lek, Kyoshi could work with it.

They made their way back to the main roads and blended back easily within the crowds. As they walked, Kyoshi still couldn’t shake the feeling she was still being watched. However, Kirima said that they were ‘good’ stares this time. She didn’t feel fully at ease, but chose to trust her sworn sister.

And so, the Flying Opera Company staked out the town before returning to camp.

______________________

Kyoshi laid under the stars, tired from the day and happy to be out of the complex hairstyle and makeup. After they had returned back to camp, she spent the day training with the Flying Opera Company members. She could feel her muscles working through her forms she practiced today, even as she laid there.

Lao Ge had seemed especially mouthy today as well, really on her to learn that damn useless firebending skill she couldn’t even use!

She shook his voice out of her mind. Her mental power was best to be put elsewhere! Like…thinking about Rangi.

Was everything really over for them? No, Kyoshi was sure she could still salvage it. She just needed to force another element out, then Rangi would believe her. Then she could apologize for everything up until then, and they could go back to…

Kyoshi felt the bile begin to sure in her throat, but she pushed it back down. ‘Back to the way things used to be’? Yeah right, Yun’s dead. We can’t go back… But maybe we can… Maybe we can at least heal together?

Kyoshi sighed and threw her forearm over her eyes as she recalled her last encounter with Rangi. The gleam of the hairpin she’d given Rangi still in her topknot.

She’s still wearing it.

Maybe that’s why Kyoshi couldn’t shake the hope that she could maybe, just maybe get through to Rangi. She still wore Kyoshi’s present, donned a piece of Kyoshi’s heart on her. That had to have meant something, right?

Kyoshi closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. The hope in her heart kept her warm and with company until she finally succumbed to the abyss.

_____________________

“And this is important because–” Kirima kept prattling on as she held up various jars. Kyoshi had no idea how to tell the difference between…were they still on makeup? Kyoshi was certain they hadn’t left the makeup section of the bazaar.

Kyoshi was barely listening, she was doing her best to not scratch at her face and ruin the white foundation. Kyoshi didn’t know what bothered her more: the gunk on her face, or the various stares she was still getting.

Well at least they stare less when I’m wearing this as opposed to the gown. Kyoshi thought. She was wearing the battle attire Jianzhu had gotten her. Apparently it not only protected her against weapons, but also lecherous eyes!

They had stayed in the town for two days and were now on their third. Kyoshi was getting antsy, but they promised to leave by the end of the night. The rest of the gang wanted to finish their lighthearted five finger discount with various stores.

After the first night, they’d decided to hit the stores in a less flashier way than what they did in Youke Village. It took longer, but they only wanted small supplies, plus they had time. They still had a few days head start on Rangi, if Kyoshi’s calculations were correct. Which they may not be…hence how antsy she was…

Regardless, Kyoshi had taken the time to keep practicing and honing her skills to a surprising degree. And attempting to bend another element, no such luck on that last one, however.

She sighed. It felt like she was making a lot of progress, and also no progress at all.

“Well sor–ry,” Kirima snarked. “Am I boring you?”

Kyoshi blinked, coming back to reality. “No?”

“Then what did I just say?”

Kyoshi racked her brain, trying to remember what Kirima was talking about. “This is important because–”

Kirima made an error sound. “Wrong answer! That was, like, twenty sentences ago. What’s on your mind– Oh!” A sly smile stretched across the waterbender’s face. “I know what you’re thinking about.”

Kyoshi blinked at her. Her brain was all over the place, even Kyoshi couldn't pinpoint what she was last thinking about. “You do?”

Kirima tapped her on the nose. “That spicy hot dumpling of yours~!”

Kyoshi blinked again. Sometimes she felt slower than she should be. She hadn’t had any dumplings recently.

No…with that look she’s insinuating something… Kyoshi thought it through. Spicy. Hot. Spicy. Hot… Fire?

She could feel her face blazing the second it hit her. Kirima was talking about Rangi.

“I–I wasn’t–”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you were mooning over her, you love sick fool!”

Not this time, at least not this second. Kyoshi groaned in her head.

“Why are you teasing me about this, I thought you didn’t approve?” Kyoshi challenged.

Kirima ho and hummed as she slipped another vile into her pocket. “I don’t, but I can see you’re dead set on pursuing it. So, as your older sister, if I can’t stop you… I’m gonna at least tease you a little.”

Kyoshi rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto her face. At least someone was enjoying her whole situation. They kept on walking, Kirima teaching Kyoshi some of the group’s daofei trade. The importance of good quality makeup, how to set up a good ruse, the key to having the stickiest fingers, and the best way to make an escape. And so on and so on.

“So the diversion team had this performance where–” Kirima, regaling Kyoshi with one of the Flying Opera Company’s heists, was cut off by a loud noise in the distance. The two looked in the direction of the sound, trying to gauge what it was.

There was another loud rumble that could be heard, the ground shook with remnants of the fissures. Birds flew in the air, and the sound of screaming could be heard.

Kirima and Kyoshi got into a battle ready stance.

“Is it an earthquake?!” Kyoshi yelled to her. She thought she could feel something akin to rumbling in the earth, but she wasn’t talented enough to really pinpoint it yet.

“I don’t know, you’re the earthbender!” she yelled back. Kirima looked at the sky, where the birds were fleeing. “Those birds have the right idea, let’s get out of here!”

Kirima grabbed Kyoshi by the hand and they started running down the road, as they did, Kyoshi could feel herself going higher in elevation! She was mist-stepping! Well, not really, she wasn’t doing it. It appeared Kirima was taking the big sister role seriously, as she was creating mist pillars for her and Kyoshi to step on.

Just another thing to add to my todo list! She thought. She’d still yet to master the art of dust-stepping, but she was glad for the assist nonetheless.

When they were safely on the rooftop, they looked over to where the commotion was. There was a dust cloud beginning to form. They started sprinting along the roof, away from the commotion, Kirima helping Kyoshi with the larger gaps in between with her mist stepping.

As they ran, the sound of an explosion kept getting closer and closer, when Kyoshi turned her head back each time, she would see another plum of dust rising with each explosion. But between the angle of the roofs and people on the street, she couldn’t get a clear view of what was causing it.

As they were mist-stepping a much bigger gap, it happened. The explosion ruptured from under their feet. Kirima flung themselves to the side in the air, catching them with the mist as they dodged a black mass. They scrambled back to their feet and as Kyoshi turned to run again, she heard a whizzing sound and leaned her head to the left. Right then, a pink whip shot out over her right shoulder, narrowly missing her head.

The duo launched themselves onto the nearest roof and chanced a look back. On the ground a furry black monster stood, taller than some of the huts from Yokoya, its massive tongue whipping around and hitting random bystanders. As it hit them, they instantly dropped to the ground.

“Tui’s gills! What the hell is that thing?!” Kirima screamed.

Kyoshi couldn’t answer, she was too stunned. The dust cleared and they could see the monster’s features more fully, it bore no eyes. It was a black void of a face, except for a pink, parasitic shaped flower donned its nose and mouth, wiggling and snorting. And it pointed itself right at Kyoshi.

Kyoshi felt a wave of nausea hit her from the uncanniness of the monster, stricken both with fear and sickness. She was staring into a living breathing nightmare, a creature only found in the most decrepit parts of hell.

This must be Jianzhu’s doing. Was her only thought that pierced her fog of fear. Only that bastard would conjure up the most heinous being in existence to drag her back into his clutches.

A tugging on her clothes brought her out of fear’s clutches, it was Kirima.

“Quit laying around!” she shouted. “I think it’s after us, we gotta move!”

As if shocked by lightning itself, Kyoshi rose to her feet in an instant and started following Kirima’s lead at a full sprint. Behind them, they could hear the crushing of stone and wood as the creature used its claws the climb up onto the roofs after them.

“Should we head to lower ground?” Kyoshi shouted, unsure if the rooftop was the safest option. Fearing what would happen if they fell.

“No! I think that thing can burrow!” Kirima shouted back. Kyoshi thought back to the dust plums from earlier. It must’ve been caused by the creature, digging a path underground only to pop up every so often.

As they ran, Kirima would use her waterwhip to help deflect the tongue when dodging didn’t help. Up ahead, there was a large gap between the buildings. They were nearing the main square of the village!

They just needed to get through the square and out of town, and then up the hills back to Pengpeng and they were home free. But a feeling of dread settled into Kyoshi’s stomach as she looked out onto the horizon, it appeared there was a plum of dust just beyond the hill that led to their camp.

“Don’t slow down!” Kirima shouted at Kyoshi. “Just keep running forward and I’ll keep a path going for the both of us!”

Kyoshi nodded, unable to speak due to needing to reserve that precious air for breathing. Kyoshi pushed forward, speeding ahead of Kirima so that her sister could see her feet more clearly and provide a platform.

They started running in the air, and halfway through the gap Kyoshi took a chance to look back. Kirima was concentrating on their feet, making sure they each had a platform to put their feet. She watched in horror as the monster behind them reached the roof’s edge and launched itself into the air after them.

Kyoshi took a fan out and flung a chunk of earth from the ground at the creature, hoping to knock it off course. As the boulder made impact, Kyoshi felt like she was hit by a boulder in midair as well. Her body fell sideways, accelerating away from Kirima, who bore a look of shock.

Then there was a blast of fire, and Kirima was knocked out of the sky as well. Kyoshi twisted her body around to see Rangi wrapped around her waist in a mid-air tackle. Her feet propelling them forward to the ground with jet-stepping, she must’ve sent a kick of fire at Kirima when she knocked her down.

Rangi didn’t seem aware of the possibly deadly fall they were both hurdling towards, so Kyoshi used the fan she had and prayed. She grounded and pulverized the entire area, hoping the dirt would soften their landing.

Right before the hit the ground, she twisted her body and held onto Rangi, so that she’d be the one to take the impact first. As they crashed, it was clear that, despite the pain, the plan had worked.

She lifted her head up, and saw Kirima was already on her feet again, either having also landed on the soft earth or she course corrected with her own bending. Nevertheless, she was in a battle with the monster. The monster’s mouth was bleeding, its long tongue hanging on by a thread where Kirima sliced at it with a blade of ice.

Kyoshi looked down to see Rangi slowly getting up off of Kyoshi’s stomach. She needed to at least convince Rangi to get out of here with her, even if it led to a fight later!

“Rangi, I know you're mad at me but– There’s a monster chasing us. We need to get out of here, after we’re safe you can yell or hit me as much as you wa–”

CRACK!

Kyoshi’s head was back on the ground, she could feel her skull vibrating with the impact of whatever had just hit her jaw. Her vision splotched, both from the impact and the inability to take a breath. The wind was knocked out of her.

It felt like an eternity, but after only a moment, she finally took a gasp of air. As she did, blood spluttered into the air, her teeth had cut her cheek open from the impact. She took another racking breath as she felt Rangi mount her, fist gripping at the front of Kyoshi’s robes.

Kyoshi didn’t dare to move her head yet, so she only shifted her eyes in Rangi’s direction. Her breathing stopped yet again.

Whatever fear Kyoshi felt towards the monster moments ago paled in comparison to the absolute fright Rangi was instilling in Kyoshi this very moment. Rangi’s face was darkened with utter loathing, her eyes were like bronze knives that were freshly oiled in blood. Hungry for the next slaughter. Her fist, raised and vibrating with energy, preparing for its next hit.

It was evident, it didn’t matter if there was one monster behind her or a million. Rangi wouldn’t have cared. The only thing that mattered to her right now was Kyoshi.

Kyoshi gritted her teeth. She knew any kind of talking was way out of the question now, she was going to need to fight. Once she knocked Rangi out, Kyoshi could get them both away from the monster; then, she’d have the Flying Opera Company help her restrain Rangi until she saw reason.

Kyoshi noticed Rangi’s left shoulder, a piece of her armor had fragmented off from where Lek had hit her. Perhaps she should target that side?

Kyoshi flicked her wrist as Rangi’s fist was coming down, a giant boulder of earth rocketed at both the girls, and flung them to the side. Kyoshi had subscribed to the art of fifty-fifty with that shot. Either both of them got hurt, or just Rangi got hurt. Unfortunately for Kyoshi, it was the former.

Regardless, the boulder did the trick, it got her separated from Rangi. Kyoshi scrambled to her feet while pulling out her second fan and got into a low stance, she was going to need all the help she could get. But double unfortunately for her, she’d created a giant dust cloud from the impact of the earth she chucked.

She looked around trying to gain her bearings. From what she remembered, the main square was more like a main circle, with an obelisk statue surrounded by a fountain in the middle. While not as packed as the bazaar, it still had a lot of stands and shops scattered throughout the open area.

As she looked around, her leg started to tremble from being squatted for so long. Then, out of the dust, a fireball came at her face. Kyoshi quickly dove to the left, winding her arm up as she rolled to send another boulder in that direction. She saw Rangi dodge it at the last second, her fist coming down onto the ground where Kyoshi had been with a combustion punch.

Gotta keep my distance! She gazed as the small crater Rangi’s fist left.

But she wasn’t sure how long she could keep that up. While she could fling boulders the size of houses at her friend, she didn’t want to. Not just because she valued Rangi’s life, but because it wasn’t sustainable. The act was too slow moving, too easy to dodge, and it would wear her out faster. If only she had a faster moving element to access…

Kyoshi inhaled. No… She was going to need to bend smaller. As small as she could. She readjusted her grip on her fans, recalling her training with Lek, Wong, and Kirima. She was going to need to pull out all the stops, even if it meant close quarters combat. She was just thankful she wore her armor today…

She dropped into a Sixty-Forty stance that Wong taught her, and began her katas, focusing on throwing boulders only slightly bigger than her torso. She snapped her fans forward twice, throwing two semi large boulders at Rangi at a much faster pace.

Rangi quickly dodged the first one, and blasted the second. But Kyoshi didn’t give her time to breathe. After launching the first two boulders, she launched two more. The dust created from Rangi’s blast when she destroyed the second boulder obscured the third and fourth one.

As the boulders flew towards Rangi, Kyoshi charged. She watched as the third boulder nicked Rangi’s right leg as she attempted to jump over it, only to get knocked out of the air by the fourth boulder. Rangi caught herself from completely falling to the ground, but as she rose back up, Kyoshi closed one of her fans and slammed the point into Rangi’s temple.

Rangi instantly crumpled to the ground, unconscious, trickles of blood flowed from the newly formed cut. Kyoshi looked down at Rangi, panting. A grin slowly spread across her face.

I–I did it! She’d successfully beat and knocked Rangi out. Now she just needed to carry Rangi to safety and help Kirima at the same time! No pressure!

Kyoshi put one fan into her sash (she’d only have one arm to work with anyway), and slung Rangi’s body over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. She turned and looked for Kirima, but she and the monster weren’t where Kyoshi last saw. Carnage seemed to indicate their fight continued on down another street.

She’d only taken one step when she felt Rangi’s arm, that was pulled across her body, quickly grab her own leg and pull both limbs upward into Kyoshi’s neck. Rangi had woken up, or perhaps she’d just feigned unconsciousness, and now Kyoshi was in a makeshift chokehold!

Kyoshi had made her own noose. Thankfully, it was a haphazard hold that Rangi made in haste, so Kyoshi had a little room to breathe and think. Not a lot, but it was enough. She remembered what Wong had taught her, one way to get out of a chokehold. Especially if said hold wasn’t on the ground.

This is going to hurt! She thought as she braced herself for the pain.

She dropped the fan she was holding, and grabbed both of Rangi’s arm and leg, and flung herself backwards. The duo hit the ground, Rangi taking the brunt of the hit. Kyoshi didn’t get out unscathed, falling on top of Rangi’s armor like that hurt. She was just thankful it wasn’t one of Rangi’s spikes that she’d landed on!

Rangi’s limbs went slack, and Kyoshi scrambled to get out her hold. She looked around, trying to find the fan she dropped and spotted it. She lunged for it, but Rangi was quicker. The firebender shot her foot out and kicked the fan away. The two watched as the fan flew and disappeared into a nearby stand.

Kyoshi snapped her head back to Rangi and the two stopped and just looked at each other. Rangi’s eyes glowed in a fit of fury, her teeth grit and Kyoshi grabbed her remaining fan from her sash. Rangi’s fist shot out, a fireball flying towards Kyoshi’s face. Kyoshi unsnapped her fan just in time and swung it in front of her face.

The fireball dissipated upon impact. The two looked at each other, shocked. Did…Kyoshi just firebend? Or did the fan just absorb all the impact?

Regardless, Kyoshi quickly shot to her feet and started to back away, just in time for Rangi to let off a barrage of fire blasts at her. With each one, Kyoshi caught it with her fan. And each time, the metal fan got hotter.

I don’t feel anything. Kyoshi thought.There was no real energy flow, not like when she earthbent. If she was firebending, it was a miniscule amount and the fan was doing most of the work. Maybe Rangi’s fire blasts aren’t actually that powerful?

As if reading Kyoshi’s mind, Rangi sent out a particularly large fireball, in which Kyoshi had to dodge. It instantly incinerated a stand behind her.

On second thought… Who am I to judge firebending?

“I don’t know what you’re doing… Or how you’re doing it��” Rangi panted. Kyoshi wasn’t sure the last time she heard Rangi out of breath. She looked at the firebender more closely. She looked worn out, and had a sickly tint to her pale skin. Seeing Rangi like that set Kyoshi on edge, she needed to end the fight sooner rather than later. For both their sakes. “But you can’t keep it up forever…”

“I wouldn’t need to keep it up at all if you would just stop!” Kyoshi yelled back. Partially hoping to buy herself some time to allow her fan to cool off. It was getting harder to hold, and she was pretty sure her hand was starting to blister.

Kyoshi stretched her free arm out, to point at all that was happening around them. “Look around you Rangi! This place is being attacked by a monster! And all you care about is–”

“I’m well aware that a shirshu is attacking this place, Kyoshi,” Rangi said so calmly, it made Kyoshi hair stand on edge.

Kyoshi’s eyes widened. Shirshu– She knows what it is?!

“How else did you think I found you this time?” She began to stalk her way to Kyoshi, slowly circling a path towards her, keeping a wary eye on her fan. “Bet you thought your little disguise would work? Sorry, doesn’t matter how much you pretty yourself up, we can track you based on your scent. Any time. Any place.”

The world felt like it was tilting sideways. Rangi was willing to go as far as to spawn a creature from the depths of hell to bring her back? Even to cause all this destruction? No, that didn’t sound like Rangi, it had to be Jianzhu!

“So you’re fine with dragging all these innocent people involved?!” Kyoshi challenged, fury welling inside her, not sure where to aim it at.

“These innocent people got involved because of you!” Rangi was passing by a small stall cart, and kicked the vehicle at Kyoshi. Kyoshi stumbled out of its way and barely blocked another fire blast.

Kyoshi looked up and then at Rangi, gauging the distance briefly. Then she brought her foot down with all her might. The earth shook and cracked. She could see Rangi stumbling, trying to keep her footing. Kyoshi aimed her arm and fan at the obelisk, dropped into a low stance, and pulled down.

The giant stone structure cracked and fell, providing a makeshift wall between her and Rangi. Kyoshi took the opportunity to dive into the sea of stands, stalls, and carts. Hoping for Rangi to lose sight of her. But also losing her sight on Rangi in the process.

“You still shouldn’t have unleashed it on all these bystanders!” Kyoshi yelled, poor decision. Rangi would possibly be able to pinpoint her. Even if she kept moving.

There was a burst of flame and a cart a ways up caught fire. Shit, she’s going to light this whole place on fire at this rate!

“I didn’t, it got excited when it tagged your scent, the handlers couldn’t control it,” Rangi’s voice was eerie, devoid of emotion. “They both did, the handlers chose to go after the other one, while I followed this one to you.”

Kyoshi’s heart sank and panic thrummed through her. The other one? There were two of these bastards?! And where did that one disappear to?!

More stalls behind her started blowing up in rapid succession. Smoke was starting to thicken in the area, she’d need to get out of there. It was only a small miracle that the damn place had been cleared out before their battle began.

Where’s the exit?! She cried in her head as she ran past the stalls. There were so many entrances and exits to the square, she just needed to find one.

Her feet stopped when she ran past a nice looking textile stall. An idea flashed in her mind as she looked upon its wares, a memory of a special dance Kirima taught her flitting through her mind not long after. The dance steps the Flying Opera Company used to disguise their martial arts. Kirima had taught her the steps, they’d done the katas, but Kyoshi never had the object needed to actually utilize it. Not like Wong and the fans…

Kyoshi stashed her last fan back into her sash, and used her first five finger discount: a scarf.

“If you just came back quietly back in Chameleon Bay, none of this destruction would’ve happened!” Rangi roared, she was close, just a stall away.

Kyoshi wrapped the scarf around both of her hands, and pulled it taunt, checking the tension. Then she picked up a rock and threw it, drawing Rangi’s attention away from where she was. Rangi threw her fist out towards the noise and that’s when Kyoshi struck.

She jumped out of the shadows, quickly wrapping it around Rangi’s extended hand. Instinct took over before thought. In a fluid motion, she swung her body to the side so her back was facing Rangi, and threw the smaller girl over her shoulder in a picture perfect seoi otoshi throw.

It almost worked, but as Rangi’s body was being raised up, Kyoshi ended up being propelled forward. They both ended up flying forward and colliding with the ground, farther away from the smoke and fire. Rangi had used her jet-stepping to get out of the throw.

Kyoshi felt the scarf come loose, and quickly scrambled to get away. She grabbed at a stand, filled with fruit and stood up. Just as she saw a fireball flying towards her again, she threw a melon at it. It exploded in the air.

Damn it, whatever works! She grabbed two more melons and brought her foot down. Rangi jumped, using her jet-stepping to avoid the tremor, and fireblasted one of the melons Kyoshi threw at her. It exploded.

Kyoshi quickly followed the blow up with another melon throw, hoping to use the wreckage of the first melon to disguise its path. Rangi predicted it, she followed up with another blast, and even fell back, expecting Kyoshi to throw another boulder at her.

Rangi was right to be cautious, but a boulder wasn’t Kyoshi’s next move.

Kyoshi took a page out of her playbook from Youke Village, and threw her arms up into a Soft Bridge Stance. A small pillar of rock shot out of the ground, right under Rangi. The edge of the pillar collided with the underside of her chin, and hurled her back and onto the ground.

Kyoshi capitalized on the hit, and wrapped her scarf around one of Rangi’s arms again. She remembered how Rangi almost knocked her out in Chameleon Bay with a chokehold, and maneuvered the remainder of the scarf around her neck. Then she threw her over the shoulder. Rangi attempted to jet-step out, but the flames sputtered wildly, unable to gain traction due to her lack of breath. The source of firebending.

Wait, how long do I hold this? Kyoshi realized in a panic. She felt Rangi thrash, and a gurgling sound escaped her mouth. Panic quickly turned into terror. She wasn’t knocking her out, she was killing her!

She gritted her teeth and loosened her grip, let go of the scarf, and dodge rolled out of the way. She turned back around and saw Rangi kneeling on the ground, clutching at her throat. She grabbed the scarf and let it burn away in her fingertips as she caught her breath.

“I’m not going back, Rangi! Not until I have my revenge!”

“Revenge?!” Rangi growled at Kyoshi. “Revenge for what? Because your life has been shit? News flash, Kyoshi! Just because your life sucks, doesn’t mean you can go around and destroy the world!”

That blow hit her harder than anything Rangi had swung at her yet. She knew it was because Rangi just didn’t know the whole picture… Right? It couldn’t be because this is what Rangi always thought about Kyoshi?

Rangi quickly took the opportunity to lunge at Kyoshi, hands grappling at her lapels. Kyoshi grabbed Rangi’s shoulders and tried to push her away. It was clear both were running out of steam.

Rangi kicked Kyoshi in the thigh, then pulled Kyoshi downwards as Kyoshi’s leg gave out. “Your stance is weak!” She delivered an onslaught of knee jabs to Kyoshi’s stomach. It was unpleasant, but Kyoshi was grateful for the armor she was wearing to absorb most of the blows.

Kyoshi tried to use the momentum of her failing leg, in her own hold she twisted her body and brought Rangi to the ground.

Instead of trying to take advantage with a ground grapple, she instead tried to right herself, stumbling backwards to get away, but she ran out of space. Her back hitting a nearby wall. By the time she looked back, Rangi had already capitalized on her mistake…

In Rangi’s right hand, she held a fire dagger up to Kyoshi’s throat, just far enough to not burn her, but close enough she could feel the heat licking at her skin. The side of her left hand was pinned to the side of her stomach; right where there was a gap in her armor, ready to pierce her stomach with another fire dagger whenever she was ready.

Sweating, aching, and bleeding. The two panted, pressed up against each other, and assessed each other one last time.

“Rangi, it doesn’t matter how many times you come after me… I’m not going back to Yokoya,” Kyoshi repeated. “You can capture me now, but I’ll fight you the whole way there.”

Rangi didn’t respond, her eyes only darkened.

“Jianzhu killed Yun and Kelsang, he’s using you–”

“Don’t! Shut up–” The fire dagger flared up in her hand, Kyoshi could feel it singing her skin now.

“Because he’s a sick freak that wants to keep the power of the Avatar to himself–”

“I told you to shut up! Stop lying!” Rangi took the fist by her stomach and delivered a quick blow near her liver but just missed it due to the armor.

“I won’t let him get away with it. I’ll avenge them. And you can either help me, or we can keep playing this game. But I won’t stop until I put his body so far down into the ground that even the badgermoles can’t find him.”

“I said stop!” Rangi hit her side again, this one hitting in between the armor but luckily not the liver.

Kyoshi coughed from the blow, but continued onwards, frustration finally coming to the forefront. “I– Damn it, Rangi! Pull your head out of that privileged ass of yours and listen to me for once!” She was getting sick and tired of this. Was their friendship really so meaningless? Was it so inconsequential to Rangi that she couldn’t spare her any words? Or did Jianzhu’s poison run deeper than she realized?

“Did it really never occur to you that they could be the ones lying? You seem to buy that Kelsang and I were the bad guys, but ever thought it could be the other way around?” Her vision started to blur as tears started to well up in her eyes. “I had to watch two of our loved ones be murdered by that maniac! Then he threatened to torture me! And now he’s turned you against me I–”

Her voice cracked as she fought back the sobs. Finally, she asked the question that’d been gnawing at her, the one she didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore any longer. “Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Am I nothing to you?”

Kyoshi bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to let her fury give away to sadness. A new wave of metallic taste flowed over her taste buds as she did, reopening the wound that had begun to staunch as she fought. After a moment, she noticed Rangi didn’t respond to her, but that she didn’t feel the fire dagger singing her skin anymore.

When Kyoshi blinked her tears away, she was met with an unwell looking Rangi, the dark circles under her eyes contrasted horribly with her green tinted skin. She looked worse than the time Kyoshi had seen her with a winter head cold back in Yokoya. Fury and distress were warring over her face. And as much as it hurt seeing Rangi like that, it gave Kyoshi hope. Hope that Rangi wasn’t lost to her just yet.

“Talk to me,” Kyoshi said. “Please.”

Rangi’s gaze drifted downwards, out of focus. “I–I’m… It’s not– That’s not– You’re not–”

Kyoshi felt the heat near her neck dissipate completely, Rangi's fire dagger was gone. Rangi’s hands now went to grab at Kyoshi’s robe, stumbling, trying to keep herself upright; shaking with rabid shuddering breaths. Kyoshi was quick to catch her by the shoulders, then tentatively wrapped around, pulling her into a hug, trying to ground her.

Her face found its way to the top of Rangi’s head, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it belonged there. Two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

Rangi’s hair was sweaty and grimey (similar to how Kyoshi’s had mostly been since she’d run away), and not like the soft and sweet bouquet it had been the one other time Kyoshi had the honor of holding her like this. But Kyoshi didn’t mind, she’d take Rangi in any shape or form.

Despite the muck, she still smelt a familiar flowery scent from all those weeks ago…

Maybe she just smells like that naturally? Kyoshi thought, head fluttery. Her mind wandered to the time they shared the same bed. She had comforted Rangi in a similar manner until she fell asleep, though she doubted Rangi was in any position to fall asleep here. Nevertheless, she let the sweet memory wash over her for a brief moment. She wished she hadn’t been so dense, and that she’d done something… But alas, here she was, her heart falling into a pile of ribbons yet again.

Kyoshi allowed herself to make one last transgression, and pressed her lips to Rangi’s head as a discreet kiss.

“I’m here just… Please. Talk to me, I’ll listen…”

Rangi took another breath that wracked her whole body. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

Kyoshi’s heart squeezed. “You’re right, it wasn’t…” The three of them should be at the mansion, eating watermelon in the garden, spitting out the seeds, and running from Auntie Mui. Not be trapped in this sick game.

“So why? Why did you do it?”

Kyoshi’s morale sank. “Rangi…” Kyoshi pleaded. “I didn’t do anything… I just ran… Jianzhu he’s the one who– Why do you trust him over me?” It didn’t make any sense. Sure, she understood he was a powerful figurehead, an old companion of Kuruk… Maybe he was also a family friend because of Hei-Ran? But she didn’t think he was close to Rangi herself. Did that really trump their own friendship?

“Because…” Rangi sobbed, gripping Kyoshi’s robes tighter. “Because if he’s lying, then my mother–” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

And there it was… Blood. It always comes back to blood.

Kyoshi closed her eyes in frustration. If there was one person Rangi would hold above their friendship, it would be Hei-Ran. Rangi probably never even considered that her own mother would betray her… Could Kyoshi blame her? Not everyone had the same mindset and upbringing Kyoshi got… But regardless of Kyoshi’s personal feelings on one’s family, Rangi was still hurting...

Was Hei-Ran being lied to as well? Or perhaps she understood Jianzhu’s vision, and knew sending her daughter after Kyoshi was the best move. They did say that Avatar Companions and their relationship were the stuff of legends. Regardless, Kyoshi wouldn't know how Hei-Ran thought, she'd never talk to the woman outside of one other occasion…

Instead, Kyoshi tried to draw from her own experience. Her mind drifted to her own mother…and father… And how easily it was for them to cast her off like common garbage. Her grip around Rangi tightened, the mere thought of Rangi being abandoned in a similar manner angered her greatly.

“You’d be surprised what blood is capable of doing,” she said darkly. “No one knows best how to hurt you like your own family does…”

Rangi started to quiet down.

“We have to consider the possibility she lied too, Rangi,” Kyoshi continued, thinking she was finally calming Rangi down.

“She lied?” Rangi asked, her voice was hoarse. It sounded distant, almost feverish.

“Yes, she could be in on this with Jianzhu,” Kyoshi nodded. “Or she's being lied to too, seems like Jianzhu has a tendency to always lie,” Kyoshi said bitterly.

“-shi always lies…” Rangi repeated in the same strange voice.

She? Kyoshi frowned slightly, she must’ve misheard Rangi.

“Listen, how about this… Come with me. We’ll get you treated, you can rest up, and when you’re feeling better we can have a much longer talk,” Kyoshi couldn’t help the small smile forming on her face. The idea of Rangi being with her on this journey, interacting with the rest of the Flying Opera Company. She could perfectly imagine her reaction to their antics. “We’ll come up with a plan. Together.”

“Run away with you?” Rangi’s fists tightened around Kyoshi’s robes. “Why?”

Kyoshi laughed. “Why? Because you’re my best friend and I love you! I care about you, Rangi.” Kyoshi ignored how close she came to a confession of her feelings, how she hid behind the mantle of ‘best friend.’ It wasn’t the time or place for such a thing, she just wanted Rangi to not be distressed anymore.

“Care? Love?” Rangi’s voice sounded strained and quiet, Kyoshi wasn’t even sure she heard the second word or if she just imagined it.

“Yes! I care about you, so much.” She held her tighter, hoping to emphasize the message.

But Rangi didn’t react. She stilled, as stiff as a statue. “Cared? But… Yun said…”

Kyoshi’s brow furrowed. “Yun? What did Yun say?”

Had Yun said something to Rangi long before his death? Maybe it was after the iceberg?

Suddenly, Rangi violently pushed herself away from Kyoshi, wrenching herself out of Kyoshi’s arms with so much force Kyoshi almost toppled over. A shadow bled over Rangi’s face, obscuring her features.

“Ah–wha– Rangi?” She blinked confused. “What’s the mat–”

A humorless laugh escaped Rangi’s lips and chilled Kyoshi to the bone. “He was right… Damn it… You really are…”

Rangi swayed from side to side, her left fist vibrating with energy.

“What are you talking about Rangi? Who was ‘right?’ Yun? What did he say?” She reached out a hand, hoping to steady Rangi. “Rangi, you aren’t well. Let’s just take a moment to breathe and–”

Rangi’s liver punch came swift and fast, Kyoshi had no time to react. Kyoshi keeled forward, resting her head on Rangi’s shoulder as one hand gripped at Rangi’s back. Trying to stay conscious. Trying to breathe again.

Rangi growled in Kyoshi’s ear, finally answering her question, digging her knuckles into Kyoshi’s side as she did. “You’re trying to control me! Using words I want to hear to manipulate me into doing what you want!”

Kyoshi could only respond by coughing. Most of the impact was thankfully absorbed by her armor, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Black spots sprinkled her vision, and her mind whirled.

‘Want to hear’? But what parts? And did Yun really tell Rangi this? It didn’t sound like him. When would they have had this conversation? Was it before Kyoshi woke up after the fight with the Fifth Nation? Nothing was making sense.

“You’re a poison to me, Kyoshi.”

“Rangi…” Kyoshi cried, pleaded, weakly. Tears stinging the corner of her eyes.

“You make me weak.”

Kyoshi slammed her eyes shut, letting the tears fall from her eyes. She pressed her forehead into Rangi’s shoulder briefly, before dropping her hand from Rangi’s back and standing upright once more.

“So what are you going to do?” Kyoshi responded, her voice felt hollow. “You’re going to take me back to Yokoya? And then what? Act as my warden? Until I’m a good dog, nice and trained?”

Kyoshi only had a taste of Jianzhu’s ‘lessons’ once before. The idea of him suffocating her, as Rangi watched. Being there to keep guard so no one intervened. Or worst…there to keep Kyoshi from fighting back. It sickened her.

“Just how much longer do you want this sick game to keep going?!”

Rangi looked down, the action obscuring her face in the process.

“You don’t get it…” Rangi muttered.

“What?”

“There won’t be anymore ‘games’ after this, Kyoshi…”

Kyoshi gritted her teeth. There was something in Rangi’s voice… It set her on edge. It set the voices on edge. Almost like an approaching symphony, she could hear the voices in her head pleading for her to run.

“What do you– What do you mean by that?” Kyoshi could barely get the words out, it felt like her throat was slowly being closed in on.

“I’m not here to bring you back to Yokoya…”

Kyoshi’s blood iced in her veins. Realization slowly hitting her like a glacier slowly moving towards the hull of a ship.

Kyoshi balled her fist and pressed her back against the wall even harder. Trying to get more distance between her and Rangi, and also to brace the mental door of past Avatars demanding to be let in. To take control.

“What are you…going to…do…?” Kyoshi forced out.

Rangi finally looked back up, her eyes were as pitch and starless as her hair. “I’m going to kill you.”

Kyoshi’s heart stilled in her chest, and it took every ounce of energy to not have the black spots in her vision to be replaced by white ones.

Fear, sadness, and confusion mingled and became one inside her being.

Kill? Had she heard her right? Kill? Surely Jianzhu wouldn’t have ordered that, right? Or did he think she was just that much of a lost cause, it was better to start over with a Fire Avatar?

No, he wouldn’t have any control over a Fire Avatar. Killing me wouldn’t serve his agenda in any way.

Which meant…was this Rangi’s idea? The very idea made her head spin. She was so busy wondering if Rangi even valued her and their friendship, and this entire time Rangi wanted to kill her?!

No, she said her intent was to capture me before! Something changed. In just a handful of days, something had gone terribly wrong.

“Kill? Come on, what do you mean by– That’s just– Aren’t you supposed to–” Kyoshi’s words came out in a jumble. She knew if she was captured her life would be over. But it never occurred to her that her life would end. She felt the world spinning out of control around her, and she desperately grasped at any straws she could reach. “That’s not what you were assigned– You’re not– Rangi, this isn’t you! This isn’t honorable! Think of your ho–”

“My honor?! What do you know about my honor?! I don’t have it! Not anymore!” In a flash her right hand went to her topknot. The next thing Kyoshi knew was that Rangi’s dark locks began falling all around her head and face, topknot undone, and the point of the hairpin Kyoshi had gifted her was pressed against her throat.

“YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!” Rangi roared. Kyoshi couldn’t see it, but she knew birds from miles around scattered into the sky. The silence that followed was deafening, it was almost a relief when Rangi finally spoke again. “This is the only way I see I can get it back…”

Kyoshi felt time slow, and her mind went into overdrive, trying to piece together where it all went wrong. Jianzhu must’ve lied to Rangi that I wasn’t the Avatar, that’s the only way he could’ve kept her from my side. So she thinks I killed Yun, the ‘Avatar’... She must be in contact with Jianzhu because of those shir-whatever monsters… But Jianzhu wouldn’t have me killed, it’d ruin his plans… So… Rangi was the one who wanted to kill me? But why–

Kyoshi’s eyes widened at the realization. The same realization she had in her delirious, suffocated state back in Chameleon Bay. But this time it was for real. She thinks I killed Yun…

Was Rangi trying to take revenge for their friend’s death? Take matters into her own hands? Even if it went against her orders?

Kyoshi’s heart tightened. She was the Jianzhu in Rangi’s story. It didn’t matter if Rangi didn’t have all the facts, that was the truth she knew and believed. The truth that was presented to her.

Kyoshi couldn’t help but wonder…if the roles were reversed… If she thought Rangi had been the one to kill Kelsang and Yun. Hell, what if Yun had killed Rangi and Kelsang? What would she have done? If either one of her friends had gone so far off the deep end, to have upheld multiple lies to her for multiple years, to have killed her loved ones… Would she be threatening death upon Rangi too?

Kyoshi couldn’t answer it. She knew she wanted to kill Jianzhu, and while she wasn’t close to him, he had been her benefactor. He’d kept her alive and clothed with his donations to Kelsang. She’d even cursed Kelsang to his face when he’d betrayed her trust, and spoke about their secret. Both had different circumstances…but her ability for bloodlust and cruelty was still there…

The fact she couldn’t give a solid answer terrified her. The possibility that this could’ve happened a different way scared her greatly.

Kyoshi saw the pain and anger in Rangi’s face, she knew it all too well. It was how she felt about Jianzhu. She knew what kind of hatred that could do to a person, but at least Kyoshi had the Flying Opera Company on her side to help guide her. Rangi’s just been alone this whole time.

This entire time, Rangi had been in pain…grieving the loss of both of her friends and Kelsang… But had no one to grieve with. No one to rely on. Separated from her only family… The entire time, the one person who could understand her pain…was who she thought inflicted it upon her.

Kyoshi was hurting her. Kyoshi was hurting Rangi, and she didn’t know how to fix it. She’d tried being honest, but Rangi took every word of Kyoshi’s as a lie. Unless she gave definitive proof by bending another element, there were only two options for Rangi to finally be able to grieve and process…

Either Kyoshi bent another element…or she let Rangi kill her.

She thought back to when Rangi tried to knock her out back in Chameleon Bay. When the past Avatars tried to take over and how she fought them back. When she thought she was on the brink of death and her only hope was letting them take over and possibly killing Rangi.

The answer she had back then was the same as the one she had now. She would always choose Rangi over herself.

She still didn’t want to sully Rangi’s hands, but she’d happily walk up to Death itself and give herself over if it meant Rangi got to heal. It was better than the alternative. She couldn’t bend the other elements, they were blocked. She was too tired to fight back. It was either this or let the voices take over, and she wasn’t ever going to entertain the latter.

Kyoshi visualized stepping away from the door, locking it and the voices on the other side. They weren’t happy with her decision.

I guess it’s time for a new Fire Avatar.

Kyoshi took a shaking hand and encased Rangi’s fist on her stomach, and pushed it farther into her. She took her other hand, and gently caressed the hand with the pin in it, coaxing it forward into her neck. If she was going to die, at least she’d be holding the hands she loved. Even if they were colder than usual.

Rangi only realized what Kyoshi was doing when Kyoshi could feel the prick of the pin piercing her skin, and a small trickle of blood fell down her neck. Alarm rang across her face.

“What do you think you’re–”

“Do it,” Kyoshi stated with as strong a voice as she could muster. “It’s what you need right? Do it. Kill me.”

Rangi gaped at Kyoshi, shocked. Did she think Kyoshi was going to fight back? Grovel? No, Kyoshi knew when to accept her fate.

She looked into Rangi’s eyes, not wanting to break eye contact for even a second. She wanted Rangi to be the last thing she saw. “Just promise me two things…One, you’ll look after the Fire Avatar after me… And two… Please, live a long, happy life. That's all I want.”

At least Rangi would be happy. At least her successor would be out of Jianzhu’s grasp.

I only pray she never realizes the truth of what Jianzhu did. Kyoshi found herself thinking. If she was going to die, she wanted Rangi to think it was the right choice through and through.

Seeing no positive jing from the other girl, Kyoshi closed her eyes and started to press the pin down more…only to be met with resistance.

Kyoshi's eyes flew open. Rangi was trying to stop Kyoshi from stabbing herself. Trying to pull the pin back with her right, and pushing off of Kyoshi with her left. A flurry of emotions flitting across her face.

Was Rangi’s resolve crumbling? Or was Kyoshi actually robbing her of her right to slay her with her own hand? Was it both? Something else?

“I–I can’t…” Rangi said, gasping from the strain. Kyoshi hanging onto every word. “I can’t promise that– Either of–”

Kyoshi felt everything stop around her, as a new horrific realization hit her: Rangi had no intention of continuing on this plane of existence.

If Kyoshi died, the result would be the same as if she’d slayed her friend with her own hands.

Her ears started to ring. The world started to darken, it became hard to breathe. Kyoshi was trapped, no…worse. She’d fallen on her own sword.. No way to save Rangi. She knew she only had the strength to keep the Avatar State back for so long. If this struggle continued, they’d win out and Rangi would be dead.

No! I can’t– I just need more time! Kyoshi started to cry. Yes, if she could just stay on the run, have Rangi keep chasing her. At least until she unlocked another element then…

She prayed for someone to intervene, to stop them both from making a horrible mistake.

A familiar whistle cut through the mental fog in Kyoshi’s ears. Then the familiar sound of a rock colliding with Rangi followed by Rangi falling to the ground.

The spirits hadn’t forsaken her yet! The Flying Opera Company had once again come to her aid.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kyoshi tried to grab Rangi. To restrain her and take her with them, but her vision doubled. She was still feeling the effects of Rangi’s liver punch.

She couldn’t put up much of a fight as she felt Kirima’s water wrap around her torso.

Thank the spirits, she’s safe too. Kyoshi cried in her head.

She sagged into the water, ready to have it carry her away. As she was lifted up, Rangi also got to her feet.

“NO!” She heard Rangi yell, followed by a piercing pain in her left leg as Rangi drove her hairpin into Kyoshi’s thigh.

Rangi didn’t have the strength to hang on and let go as Kyoshi was lifted into the air, hairpin still in her leg.

The sounds of Kyoshi’s screams and cries could be heard for miles.

__________

A/N: Ok they’re both getting a bit fussy and dramatic, I think I should put them down for an N-A-P. uwu

Haaaaa….that fight scene. I hope y’all liked it/it turned out well… I was having a whole damn time of it. TT0TT And don’t even get me started on their final conversation, that ended up being a lot harder than I thought it’d be *sobs**whispers to myself* We’re getting to the climax of the mental breakdown, c’mon me… you got this! *sobbing harder*

Anyway, back to the fight scene… I feel like I should’ve foreshadowed some of Kyoshi’s fighting prowess a biiiiit more in previous chapters (tbf I only had the end result of the fight scene in my mind for most of this fic, not the fight itself….and that was IF there was gonna be a fight at all TT0TT). But I thought I kept it….ummm….vague (?) enough with her progress to give wiggle room (and tbf I feel like I’m mostly in Rangi’s mind in this arc too), but…..yeah…..

Maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time on the little Kyoshi/Kirima bonding excursion? Orz I tried to actually make it go by really fast (but the pages kept coming and they don’t stop coming ~! ;w;), but I already set up this plot thread with the last Jianzhu chapter I needed to at least follow through on it here…. Plus I feel like I’m ignoring the FoC a tad too much, I know we have actual canon (and we, aka I, wanna focus on the spiraling girlies….but I need to invest some effort into them). εミ(ο_ _)ο

Also, Kyoshi and Rangi should probs stop visiting Hongcun. Bad shit keeps happening when they visit Hongcun. u_u

Oh yeah return of the edits, this time it’s Zuko/Iroh’s wanted poster. I just edited Kyoshi tho. I didn’t edit the text because….. Well…. I don’t know Chinese. :’D If Avatar’s writing system was Japanese tho? I could’ve taken a stab at it. But alas.

#rise of kyoshi au #rangshi #rangi #rangi sei'naka #rangi seinaka #shadow of kyoshi #rise of kyoshi #kyoshi #jianzhu #hei-ran #the hunt for kyoshi #hunt for kyoshi #salty fics #I did it TT0TT i finished it #*curls up into a ball*#tummy got upsetti spaghetti as I was finishing it up #'so you gonna blame hunt again' yes but also it's my fault for what I ate last night u_u #and now i nap

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writing-all-over-the-place · 2 years ago

Text

yeah, so I don't know how to title stories.

So here's kind of my "testing out the characters and their voices and how they interact with each other" kind of thing. I don't really know if it's related to the plot it's just writing for writing's sake. So um yeah it's a little long. And by that I mean there's not a lot of breaks in it. Also originally I wrote two different story things that aren't really related other than, like, characters. I didn't love the first one I wrote so I switched over so that's the one that you're seeing. I might incorporate themes from the first one later I just wasn't loving it. And I'm sorry about the whole writing voice thing I feel like I kinda suck at writing but I do it anyway because I think it's fun. So um yeah if you're wondering this is rooted in this post and uh feel free to go back to that. Now I'm tagging my lovely friends. @dysphoria-things @allnaturalgenderfluid @scarafrisbee @emreadsbooks17 @maia-isnt-real @bylerloveswaffles @webboygirl @queers-of-marybelltownship @moiistdirts @giant-clown and if i forgot to tag you just tell me. I literally have a list in my notes app that i have to keep track of this. So um anyways the story yeah I should get to that. Just warning you, line breaks aren't really my thing so sorry if that's like not how it should be or if you don't like that or something.

I actually love the phrase "fluffy socks and birkenstocks" because i feel like it's such a vibe so i roped that into this so yeah.

The thunder rumbles, but as I look out my window, it’s bright and cloudless. I turn back to my computer and continue working on my history essay. As much as I love history, I’ve been writing this essay for over a week, and I’m really just sick of it. I get up out of my chair and walk to the kitchen. I start boiling some water in the kettle. Right now, I’m really feeling that green tea vibe. Knock, knock, knock. I walk over to the door and open it.

“It’s your laundry in the washer, right? I really need to wash mine, and I’ve been waiting for you to show up. You also left your key over there; I’m not really sure how you got back to your apartment without it and that’s why I thought you’d be back soon but you didn’t come back and I switched your wet clothes to the dryer and I was about ready to take those out but then I thought I’d be a nice neighbor and come talk to you first and I feel really bad now because you were probably busy and just forgot because I do that all the time and I don’t want to come off as a mean person. I reached up and put my hand over his mouth.

“Shut up, would you?” He nods, and I take my hand away. “First off, I’ll take that,” I say, pointing to my key in his hand. “I have boiling water on the stove, so let me go turn that off, and then I’ll go get my laundry. He nods and opens his mouth to speak. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he closes his mouth slowly. I take a good look at him as I’m backing myself into the kitchen. He’s wearing green low-rise, probably off-brand, Converse, wrinkled jeans, and an earthy orange linen shirt. He’s got dark brown hair, round aviator sunglasses on top of his head, and really cute freckles. I look away because I’ve definitely been staring too long. I turn off my boiling water, and my heart sinks a little bit, knowing I have to wait much longer for my tea. “Did I leave my hamper over there?” He shakes his head. I do the fast little walk to get my hamper and then come back. He’s still standing there, looking at me the same way I was looking at him. I look down and make sure I’m not dressed horribly. I’ve got on my big oversized blue knit sweater and black slacks with my favorite fake snake-skin belt that has a gold belt. I’m wearing Birkenstocks and fluffy socks, but that’s fine because I feel like it would be weirder for me to change out of them.

“I’m Sammy.” He says this as I’m locking my apartment door.

“Oreo,” I reply.

“Oreo…?” He raises an eyebrow. I shouldn’t be finding this complete stranger attractive, but I definitely am.

“Rory. My name is Rory. I go by Oreo. That’s what most people call me, except, like, the government.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

I think we’re going to have a nice walk in silence, but then he continues talking.

“Again, I’m really sorry about this. I promise I’m a nice human, and I’m not just being an asshole. Well, I guess I am. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have a bad intention, but today is just one of those days that I need to get my laundry done because I’ve been procrastinating for a while and I’ve just been buying clothes the last couple days because I really didn’t want to do my laundry because I didn’t feel like human interaction, but then again, I probably got myself into more interactions between the bus rides and going to the store. And I know I shouldn’t be scared of my neighbors; I’m sure they’re all really nice people, you included, of course.” He pauses there. “So…Oreo.” He says it again. “Oreo.” I look at him sideways. “It’s a cool name! I like the way it says it. Sorry, uh, brain fart. It feels nice in my mouth. No, that’s weird.”

“I get what you mean, Sammy. But uh, I want to get back to my green tea making, so I’m just going to get my laundry and walk back to my apartment in my fluffy socks and Birkenstocks, and I will see you again, eventually.”

“Right, right. Sorry. Sorry. I, uh. I’ll see you later, I guess.” He turns and leaves, but I call after him. “Are you gonna get your laundry?”

“Right, right. Yes. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re fine. I think it’s funny.”

#yeah so i hope you didnt find it entirely boring #i like writing it #and thats what actually matters right #anyways i hope you like the characters because youre stuck with em #though there will be more soon

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primofate · 4 years ago

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Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] He introduces S/O to the team

Before you read this, might be a good idea to read the introduction first. To give you the whole low-down of the team and their dynamicsssss.

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Scenario: You and him have been dating for a while now. Why does the team not know and what’s their reaction in finding out/when he introduces you?

Warnings: AU if that’s not your thing then don’t read, not proofread...as usual.

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

You’ve been dating for nearly 5 months at this point. Beforehand the two of you were close friends. So the team kind of already knew you guys were close, but you’d never met the team properly.

It’s not that he was HIDING your relationship, its that he didn’t want to pressure you into meeting his team. They could really be an overwhelming bunch of high schoolers sometimes.

As it happens he walks to the gym hand in hand with you one day, his other hand on his duffel sports bag, thinking that he’d be the earliest one there as always.

But when he slides the gym doors open his WHOLE TEAM greets him “CAPTAIN!” and then there’s an awkward silence that descends as they all catch him with his hand intertwined with yours.

KAEYA AND TARTAGLIA LOSES IT. “C-Captain, you had a girlfriend and didn’t tell us?!” “You finally made a move on her?!” “S’about time!”

Needless to say they both get knocked on the head by Zhongli’s fist.

Zhongli sighs and turns to you apologetically but you say that you don’t mind meeting them. He perks up and claps his hands to ask his team to line up.

They do so diligently. Kaeya, Tartaglia and Thoma are giddy while looking at you. Xiao and Kazuha have their mouth slightly agape as if you’re some kind of rare species. Diluc and Albedo stare you down.

You introduce yourself as Zhongli’s gilrfriend and as you do so Tartaglia’s eyes dart towards Zhongli who has a slightly shy expression on his face.

“Oh, oh question time!” Thoma raises his hand “Does the captain secretly eat sweets behind our back?” You haven’t even answered when Kaeya asks “Does the captain ever glare at you (he mimics Zhongli’s face) and say 10 Push ups NOW!” Surprisingly Diluc raises his hand too “...Is the captain strict with you too?”

Zhongli gets irked the more questions are asked and he finally steps in with an ominous presence. “10 laps around the gym...NOW!”

He apologizes to you again but you reassure him it’s totally fine and they all seem like such fun.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

The vice captain is a very secretive guy.

Not even his brother knew.

It’s not that he was ashamed of you, he just liked his privacy and you already knew that.

But there was this one time where he forgot his textbooks under his desk and you had to go and give it to him while he was at practice.

Shyly looking into the door the first one that spots you is Albedo.

“...Do you need something?” you tense up at Albedo’s question and shakily hand him the textbooks.

“U-Uhm... D-Diluc’s...”

Albedo tilts his head and turns to shout at the team. “Someone’s looking for the vice captain,”

Everyone stops what they’re doing and snaps there head towards you.

Diluc jogs over, sweat still fresh on his forehead. Without thinking he takes the books from you, small smile on his face and thanks you.

The rest of his team freezes up all thinking: “Hold on, is he...SMILING?”

You’re oblivious to them staring and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. When Diluc turns back his team is glaring daggers at him, he stares back at them. Doesn’t say anything, and continues practice.

No one is brave enough to ask him about it.

Tartaglia whispers to Kaeya “You didn’t know about it either huh?”

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

This MF would talk about you whenever he had the chance.

Y/N this, Y/N that, Y/N is so cute.

Frankly the team is kinda tired of it.

But when you finally visit one of their practices the team levels their gaze at you and think “Oh shit, he wasn’t lying, she is actually cute,”

Sees his teammates expression and brags even more. “I know what y’all are thinking. You’re thinking, OH! She’s actually really cute! Hm?”

Slings an arm around you shamelessly with a grin. “Back off boys, I’ll block all your attempts,”

Diluc is the one that walks up to you and you blink at him. Kaeya blinks at him, confused as well.

Diluc suddenly bows, “I feel sorry for you but please take care of him,”

The rest of the team either bursts out laughing or snickers behind their hand.

Their vice captain is low key savage

#4 Albedo (Setter)

The team finds out about you cause when they finish practice they find you waiting outside the gym.

Kazuha asks politely while the others look on “Are you lost?”

You straighten up and stutter a little, “Ah, uh, no, I’m...” You’re at a loss for words.

Then Albedo suddenly appears from the gym doors and sees you. “Ah, were you waiting long? Sorry,”

Thoma tilts his head in question. “Albedo...Your sister?”

Albedo at this point was standing next to you already. “...No, my girlfriend,” like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Everyone is stunned into statues.

“H-How did you get one before me?” Tartaglia looks as if his soul had been sucked out of his body.

“Next time you can just come inside and wait inside the gym, it’s dark out here,” their responsible captain suggests and you’re amazed at his kindness and bow at him with a thank you.

Albedo doesn’t see what’s the big deal and just grabs your hand and starts walking away.

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

The team already knew since the first date. It’s because he.would.not.shut.up.about.it

That particular day at practice his spikes were a tad bit stronger than usual.

“Oi... you’re getting too excited...” Xiao mumbles at him. Tartaglia just grins and scratches the back of his head. “Aaaahhhh... I can’t help it, I’m so nervous for my date with Y/N!”

A few more dates later he starts showing off his phone wallpaper to the others. It’s a picture of you and him.

Kaeya tries to piss him off by saying, “Huh, we’ve never actually seen her in person. Maybe it’s photoshopped,” The others snicker.

Is so pissed, asks you to come immediately.

You thought it was an emergency so you come into the gym with a worried look on your face only to be hugged tight into his chest. “See? See? She’s totally real and totally cute!”

Albedo crosses his arms and blinks, then looks at Kaeya “...You totally baited him, he’s such a simpleton.”

Kaeya responds with a smirk “Right?”

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

The most formal out of all of them and even tells them seriously that he had an announcement to make.

Next day he comes into practice with you in tow.

Properly introduces you as his girlfriend.

Everyone is wide-eyed at how official it feels. Then you suddenly take out a big container of fruits and tell everyone it’s for them (The captain doesn’t allow sweets, he thinks it’ll fatten them up or some crap.)

EVERYONE IS BLESSED BY YOUR PRESENCE and Kazuha is just enjoying you getting along with them.

Kaeya and Tartaglia try to whisper and bribe you into making cookies for them.

Albedo and Xiao stares at Kazuha thinking ‘If someone like you can get a girlfriend, we can get one too, right?’

You offer to come back next time with more fruits and some secret cookies.

#7 Xiao (Libero)

Tried to keep it a secret because he knows his team will make a fuss about it.

The team finds out when his phone suddenly starts ringing in the middle of practice and he asks for a timeout to pick it up.

“Mm... Yeah... I’ll pick you up when I finish,” Everyone starts nudging each other when they hear him talk to you in an unusually calm and soft tone. So different from when he plays volleyball and gets angry at them.

By this point everyone tries to keep quiet and enlarge their ears to eavesdrop.

“Idiot... I won’t be late. I promised to take you out didn’t I?”

Hearing their tsundere libero say something so sweet makes everyone combust.

When he turns back everyone is staring at him with smirks on their faces. “Hey, why not just ask her to come here?” Kaeya sneakily suggests.

Xiao blushes “A-As if I’d let her near you bumbling fools!”

He was worried it would scare you away, actually.

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

Literally no one is surprised he has a girlfriend.

It would be MORE of a surprise if he DIDN’T have one.

But they find out cause he left his phone out on the bench one day and there’d been a text message while Xiao was conveniently sitting on the bench.

“...Tohma, someone me--” Xiao looks at the screen where the message ‘I love you!’ is clearly written.

Xiao is so curious but is not gunna admit it so he nudges Kaeya or Tartaglia who might be sitting next to him and secretly motions over to the phone.

They read it and ask in a real loud voice “Oi Tohma! Who’s Y/N? They said I love you!”

Tohma laughs nervously and since it’s already out he might as well introduce you.

“This is my princess,” he says when you enter the gym to walk home with him that afternoon. You bow and introduce yourself and everyone looks at you thinking... “Ah, they look like the perfect domestic couple,”

Low-key everyone is jealous of how you dote on him.

Hello Hello! Technically this could be counted as fluff, but I understand that not everyone is fond of AUs, so, if you don’t mind being tagged to something like this, please fill in the survey again (I’ve added AU as an option, just click that one if you’ve signed up for the others before!)

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

Please do consider supporting me at my ko-fi! I’ve fixed the payment link so I think you can love me more now <3 (haha jk, it’s optional, but it would greatly help and make me happy!)

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Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

#genshin au #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #tartaglia x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #tohma x reader #childe x reader #genshin haikyuu crossover #genshin volleyball team #genshin volleyball au #genshin fluff #primofate #genshin headcanons

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metalbuckaroo · 4 years ago

Note

Okay so I’m a sucker for protective/possessive moments with Bucky so I was thinking something like either dbf! Bucky or biker! Bucky knows the reader’s ex wasn’t great and while they are on a date or something, he sees the reader’s ex harassing her and the ex gets a little physical (nothing super serious)?? Maybe the reader goes to get them concessions or goes to the bathroom and that’s when her ex sees her and tries to like corner her and get her back?? Idk you can have fun with it I’m not picky. Also congrats on almost hitting 1k followers!! :) xx

Diner

Summary: a night meant for just Bucky and his girl doesn't go as planned

Warnings: gross, toxic ex, unwanted attention, lil angsty, lil fluffy, lil smutty, cursing.

AU: Biker!Bucky x F!Reader

AN: Since I've done so much dbf bucky the past couple days and haven't done biker bucky in a hot minute I chose biker, and this also may be a little peak into a new biker!bucky series I've been planning out for awhile.

MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

Bucky patted at his pockets, shifting around in his seat to feel his back ones. "I forgot my wallet in the truck." He sighed, going to stand from the booth.

"I'll go get it, just sit back down." You said, giving him a soft smile. He didn't argue, just nodded and leaned back into the seat. "It's in the glove compartment."

Going to the single cab truck that was parked a few spots down from the front door of the diner, you pulled the creaky door open, the dome light flicking on to light the dark space.

Bucky kept everything but gloves in the compartment. Unopened packs of cigarettes, extra lighters, gas receipts; the gloves usually stayed on his hands or in his back pocket.

You quickly grabbed the brown leather wallet and shut the truck door, seeing the waitress walking towards the table Bucky was at through the large windows.

"Hey, you. Been awhile." You froze from the familiar voice talking behind you, not taking your hand from the door. "Hi, Jason." You mumbled, glancing at him when you went to walk back towards the entrance of the diner.

He walked closer, blocking your path and making you back towards the truck again. "How have you been? Heard you moved away but, here you are."

You cleared your throat and looked to the windows where Bucky was sat, looking down at his gloved hands. "I'm, uh, here with my boyfriend. So, if you'll just let me-"

Jason blocked you from going around him, holding his arm out so you couldn't pass. "Boyfriend? Please, hun. No other man could want you after I had you."

Your blood went cold, skin crawling from his words. "Well, you can tell him that. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." You spat, pushing pass him.

Bucky looked out just in time to see Jason grab your wrist and jerk you back towards him. The action making him push out of the booth and shove the glass door open.

"Get the fuck off, Jason." You seethed, trying to pull your arm from his bruising grip. "That's such a pretty dress, though. You never wore dresses when we were together. Let's try again." He said with faux innocence. "You never let me."

A gentle, yet grounding touch to your sides from behind eased your nerves; Bucky's gruff voice filling your ears. "I don't like people touching what's mine. Especially my girl."

Jason sneered at him, releasing your wrist. "Your girl? You let her out in a dress like that?" He scoffed. Bucky pulled you closer to his front, trying to put as much space between you and the man as he could. "Most know better than to touch or even look at her. Now, move." Bucky's voice was chillingly calm as he glowered at the shorter man.

"Must not have fucked her yet, she's ruined. All because of me." Jason said with a low chuckle. "Get in the truck, cherry." Bucky said, his tone softer towards you as he urged you to walk away. "Buck-"

The hard look he gave made you shut up and walk around to the driverside, jumping slightly when Jason was shoved into the side of the truck's bed.

You looked over you shoulder to see the much larger brunette stalking towards him, expression on his face that would make anyone with some sense slither away in cowardice. "I don't know who you think you ruined, but it's not her. I suggest you stay as far away from her as possible, she's mine and I don't share."

You scooted to the passenger side and cranked the handle to roll the window down, poking your head out to look at Bucky. "Buck, please. Can we just go somewhere else?" You pleaded, wanting out of the situation as quick as possible.

Bucky backed away, glaring at Jason for a moment before turning around. "Yeah, better listen to your whore. It's all she ever w-" Jason was cut off by a swift right hook knocking him to his knees.

"Dumb fucking bastard, that's not how you talk about a lady." Bucky spat through gritted teeth, looking down at the man who was holding his bleeding nose. "Anything but a fucking lady. Let her out in a dress like that and she'll cheat on you with the first guy who gives her a compliment."

Kneeling in front of Jason, Bucky cocked his head to the side. "I know how to take care of my girl, unlike filth like you." He spat through gritted teeth.

"Bucky Barnes, truck, now." You ordered, Bucky standing and looking at you, a softer look to his face as he made his way to his side of the truck.

"Sorry, baby." He mumbled, shoving the keys in the ignition before tugging you to the middle seat.

Tonight was suppose to be a night without club and bar talk, and jackets. Just you and Bucky, at a small diner just outside town. Now, Bucky felt like it was ruined and could tell you were still stressed by the way you fiddled with the glove on his hand.

"Want it off." You huffed, getting a nod from Bucky who took the velcro strap between his teeth and pulled it; taking his hand from the wheel just long enough to tug it off.

His warm hand went back to your thigh, thumb pressing soothing circles into the skin. "We're taking the back way home." He exhaled, his grip on the steering wheel not letting up.

You looked over at his stern expression, knowing exactly why he wanted to take the back way home. The reason making you squeeze your thighs together.

"I shouldn't have let you go get it. I'm sorry." Bucky mumbled, giving your thigh a light squeeze. "You don't have to say sorry for every little thing." You said, shaking your head at him.

His jaw clenched, the way your ex had looked at you replaying in his mind. It made his stomach churn.

The truck was suddenly pulled to the side of the dark road and jammed into park. "C'mere, wanna talk to you." He said, pulling the lever to tilt the steering wheel as high as it could go. "You can talk to me from here."

"No, I need you to listen to me fully. Come here." His tone had a demanding edge to it as you shifted around to straddle his lap.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Bucky took a slow, deep breath, hands on the outsides of your thighs. "I don't want you listening to a damn thing he said. Got me?"

You nodded, toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "What he says doesn't matter. I've got you, Sarge." You said softly, fingers moving to wrap around his dog tags. "Hm, that's how you wanna play?" He chuckled, hands gliding further up your thighs.

"Maybe." You shrugged. A gasp passed through your lips when the thin fabric of your underwear was ripped at the sides. "You gotta quit doing that, won't have any left."

"If you'd quit wearin' 'em, I wouldn't have to rip 'em."

You lifted your hips long enough for him to shuffle his pants down enough to free his erection, lips engulfing yours as your fingers carded into his thick hair.

Bucky's thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as he pulled away. "Want you to make yourself feel good. Alright, baby? Do whatever takes your mind off of it, I'm all yours and you're all mine." He purred, both of your chests heaving from the kiss as his metal hand lifted your hips. "Right?"

You nodded, biting back a whimper from the stretch he caused when you lowered onto him. His hand held your jaw, pulling your face closer so he could nudge your nose with his. "Say it, sugar. I wanna hear it."

You popped open the buttons on his shirt, gliding your hands up his muscular abdomen and chest before leaning to his ear. "All yours, Sarge."

A low groan pulled from his chest, you lips ghosting across his scruffy jaw. "There's my girl." He cooed, hands guiding your hips in a grind.

"So tight and wet for me. Take me so perfectly." He groaned, rolling his hips up into yours as you bounced as much as you could in the cramped space.

"Fuck, James" you panted, already feeling the pressure building in your lower stomach with each movement. "Already, cherry? I knew I was good but damn- can feel you milking me."

Bucky moved his thumb to press sloppy circles to your clit, your fingers digging into the skin of his chest as warmth took over; making him groan and snap his hips up.

You felt the muscles of his abdomen tense before he let out a low groan, rolling his hips into yours through both of your highs.

Thick arms wrapped around you and held you close, Bucky's lips brushing your shoulder and stubble scratching your skin. "I'll always take care of you, sugar."

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #biker!au #biker au #biker!bucky smut #biker!bucky fluff #biker!bucky angst

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

Text

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate.

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.”

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door.

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?”

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!”

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #caitsy and ash productions

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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years ago

Text

Us Versus. Them (Rafe Cameron)

Author's Notes: This was an idea that was floating around in my head for a while, so I decided to write it. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment, I'm pending writing a second chapter - and please proceed with some caution, not an ideal relationship depicted. Thank you xoxo

Warnings: CANON RAFE. OBX 2 SPOILERS. Swearing, Violence,

Requested? Nope. Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

The air on the Coastal Venture was crisp, the mist in his face was refreshing after all that time feeling cooped up on that island. He pressed the pad of his thumb to the flat of his ring and twisted it as he took one more deep breath then turned on his heel. He walked quickly down the narrow halls and to the small room where they were staying, tossing a quick glare at the room his sister was currently sleeping in.

"Hey. You up?" He grumbled as he opened their door and walked into their small cabin. He looked at the woman just sitting in up in bed, her hands pushing through her hair.

"Yeah. Just woke up." She whispered as she pressed up on her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. She pushed some hair out of his eyes then ran her fingertips over his cheekbones.

"I'm going to go check on the Cross. I feel anxious. Get dressed. She'll be awake soon." Rafe muttered as he pressed his right hand to the small of her back, bringing her close as he kissed the side of her face.

"I'll come with you." She replied quickly getting out of bed and grabbing her discarded jeans from the floor, pulling them up her legs. She grabbed her dark jacket from the back of a nearby chair and followed him out of the room to see the treasure.

Down, down they went. Below all the hustle of the busy workers above. Rafe reached for her hand as he reached the level the Cross rested on. He helped her down the metal steps, then led her towards the box. He crouched down beside the box and lifted the top gently, sliding it away to reveal the golden Cross.

"There She is." Rafe mumbled as he pulled the blankets wrapping the Cross up for safety to show his girl their treasure.

"It's beautiful. Might be the most beautiful thing on this ship." She smiled as she crouched down beside him, her fingertips running over the delicate jewels encrusting the Cross.

"Second." Rafe replied as his eyes quickly looked over at her, then down at the Cross before he covered it back up. He looked over at her again, thankful for every sacrifice she had made to help him get to that point.

"Thank you. I couldn't have done this without you. When this is over, I'm going to make you a Cameron. A real one." Rafe smiled as he reached out to place his palm gently on her cheek.

She smiled over at him, her blush warming his hand as she leaned over to kiss his lips. Rafe sighed contently through his nostrils and thumbed at her cheekbone. It felt like he had not been able to simply be with his girlfriend in so long.

"C'mon. We should get back upstairs." Rafe mumbled, his forehead pressed to hers. He stood up once more, taking her hand and pulling her upright to lead her back up the stairs where his family was waiting for them.

The door to the State Room was closed and locked, the way his father had intended. Rafe pulled out his key, smoothed his fingers over the teeth and gently placed it into the knob. As he unlocked the door and opened it slowly his sister came running from her spot from the cracked leather seat by the window, laying a firm punch to his broad chest.

"You knew! You helped him, and you knew! Fuck you, Rafe!" Sarah screamed as she punched his chest, one right after the other. Rafe stood in place, his eyes out the window at the passing ocean as he took each meager punch from his little sister.

"He asked me for my help." Rafe glared as he grabbed her wrists and pushed them towards her own chest.

"You're insane. The both of you. You and dad, you've lost your minds." Sarah cried as she ran her shaky fingers through her hair.

"We're aligned on a common goal, Sarah. And maybe...just fucking maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your Pogue shit you would understand that. This? All of this is for our family." Rafe growled his eyes narrowed at his sister as his hands gestured to his heart. His family. His heart.

"And her?" Sarah asked with a deep inhale as she looked from her brother's feverish eyes to the girl standing behind him, arms over her chest.

"Her? She's my family." Rafe grinned with a raised eyebrow. He looked behind him to his girl who looked his sister up then down, her lips pursed.

"Elise. Heard a lot about you, Sarah Cameron." The girl behind Rafe stated, taking a step forward to stand beside him.

"Wish I could say the same." Sarah glared as she sat back down, her legs feeling like they may give out beneath her any second.

"You're right, baby. She's not very nice." Elise mumbled as she looked up at Rafe.

Rafe breathed out a laugh as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. He gave her backside a soft pat as he looked down into her eyes.

"Go check with the Captain, see how far away we are. I'll be right up. Take your knife with you, too." Rafe muttered as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, pulling her switchblade out of her back pocket to press it to the palm of her hand.

She nodded with a soft smile, happy he was always looking out for her even though she could handle herself. She turned on her heel, tossing Sarah Cameron a wink before she shut the door behind her and walked quickly down the halls towards the Captains deck. She clicked the latch of her switchblade, opening it, and dragged it along the old walls of the boat leaving an indent.

"What's the timeline?" She asked as she walked up to the top of the boat with the Captain, who flinched upon sight of the small woman. Something she never tired of seeing.

"Few hours, I think. As long as the weather holds." The Captain nodded, his eyes fixed forward and away from the girl that wielded the small switchblade at her side, the tip of the blade pressed into her thigh.

"Good. Make it happen." She replied as she turned to exit the small room, only to run into the strong chest of a man she didn't know. He smelled of dirt, sweat and ocean water.

"Arms length. You know the rules." She spat as she pressed the tip of her blade into the chest of the person who dared come close to her.

"Sorry." He mumbled, his head low and face covered by a mess of curls as he tried to hurry passed her below deck.

"Wait. You aren't part of the crew, are you?" Elise asked, knife extended towards the boy. He looked up at her, pushing his hair out of his eyes and her heart began to race as she recognized him.

Routledge.

"Summer program." John B stuttered as he backed down the steps from the top level of the boat, eyes darting around for something to use as a weapon to evade the girl.

"Get the fuck back here, Routledge! How did you get on this boat!" Elise cried as she took off with a sprint after him, scrambling down the steps.

"Oh, my God. She's fucking fast." John B mumbled as he hopped over tipped over barrels and scattered coils of rope to get to his destination.

A door on the opposite side of the ship that led to a hallway, where he was certain Sarah was being kept in one of the many rooms. He just had to find that room. He tripped over a coil of rope, but caught himself on the frame of a door, jiggling the handle to let himself in. He let out a heavy breath as he slammed the door behind him and ran through the narrow halls, screaming her name.

"Sarah!" He slammed his fist on each door his passed in the hopes her beautiful face, and that long golden hair would pop out.

She never did.

So John B kept running. He kept running and he kept yelling in the hopes that she would hear him. But the small girl with the knife wasn't far behind him.

"Rafe!" Elise yelled as she ran through the hallways, John B evading her quickly as he made a quick left turn.

Rafe perked up at the sound of his name, but his heart began to race as the tone of her voice. It didn't sound good. He had simply sent her off to get an arrival window so they could get off this boat and safely house the Cross. He clenched his fist as he stood up from his spot in an old chair in the State Room and walked quickly to the door, tossing a glare back at his sister.

"Stay here." Rafe growled at Sarah as he unlocked the door and stalked out to the hallway, locking the door behind him once more.

Rafe spotted his love in the hallway looking frantic, and that wasn't a headspace she was usually in. She was calm, collected. She was his rock most of the time and he didn't like the look on her face as he checked the lock behind him.

"Pogues are here."

Hotties:

@starkey-babie @sodasback @barrysjumpsuit @fashion-fasting

@beauvibaby @professional-busboy @soph0864

@maybankslut

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo (next chapter would have...a lot of violence, it's just a matter of writing that out, finding that angle)

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

#outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx rafe #obx fic #obx imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks

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mlm-writer · 4 years ago

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Choke Me Like You Hate Me, But You Love Me (Lucifer x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dom Top Lucifer Morningstar x Sub Bottom Male Reader (trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1559 POV: Second Summary: You tell Lucifer about your choking fantasy and he teaches you proper etiquette, before actually choking you in bed. Notes: If nobody is going to tell the youth these days how to properly choke someone, I will. Also can be read by anyone who likes being called a boy. (Handsome/baby boy). Genitals and chest area are unspecified. Tags: No beta we die like men, choking, consent talk, kink discussion, reader is a nervous wreck, penetrative sex (anal or vaginal), things go wrong when you try something for the first time and that’s ok

Sweat gathered on your hands as you stood in the elevator. You rubbed them off on your jeans, right before the doors opened and you were greeted with the wide smile of your boyfriend. “Hello,” he greeted you, suit impeccable as ever and a glass of scotch in each hand.

“Oh you always know exactly what I need,” you sighed as you took one glass and downed it for some courage. As you wiped a drip of scotch off the corner of your lips with your thumb, your eyes locked with the concerned ones of your man. “What?”

He gently took the glass from you and put it with his full one on the bar. “Rough day?” He asked with a furrowed brow. You shook your head and walked over to the couch.

“No, not at all. Great, actually, I had a great day!” You plopped down, leaning against the backrest. “It’s just... We need to talk and I don’t think I’m ready to say this, but I promised myself to say it today and I don’t want to say it, but I have to or I will never say it!” Your hands flew in the air as anxiety settled in your chest.

In a flash, Lucifer was at your side, taking your hands gently into his. “Hey, hey, deep breaths, handsome.” You followed along with his breathing, calming down a little as you saw how much he cared about you. His eyes spoke books with just a single glance. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Unless you want to leave me of course, I simply can’t have that.”

You laughed at his joke and shook your head. “No it’s not something like that. It is just embarrassing.” Lucifer made a noise to indicate his interest as he crossed his legs and leaned with one arm on the beckrest. He looked at you with expecting eyes and a shit-eating grin. “I hate you.” He chuckled and shrugged. “No, really, I really do, I hate you and that shit eating grin so much I… I’ve been thinking about you choking me while we fuck.”

Lucifer stopped abruptly with laughing and looked at you with wide eyes. You stared back at him like a deer in headlights. “What?” He asked.

You didn’t wait for a second, before giving him your ingenious reply. “What?”

“Did you just say…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, please.” “Oh but you will.”

He leaned closer to you an even wider grin on his face and you wanted to low key punch it off. “What did you say, darling?”

You whined and looked away from him. “I want you to choke me! Okay! I said it! I saw you at the precinct the other day and you were choking that criminal against a wall and it got me really hot and bothered, there! I said it! Now please don’t make me say it again.” Lucifer laughed and pulled you into a hug as you covered your heated face.

“Oh baby boy, you just had to say it. I will gladly choke you,” he mused as he swayed you a little. The tension left your body as he didn’t seem to be shocked or judgemental at all. You did not expect differently, but you were still embarrassed to talk about things like this. You never really had a relationship where you could talk so openly about what you did and did not like in the bedroom. “So, have you ever been choked before?”

You looked up at him and shook your head. He gave an understanding nod and stood up. Lucifer brought back two steaming cups of tea and you both sat yourselves down at the opposite ends of the couch, slightly turned so you could look at each other and you could focus your eyes on your cup, were things getting too awkward. “You want me to choke you when I’m inside you, correct?” You nodded. “Okay, how hard do you want it? I could safely make you pass out if you want to.”

That kind of scared you and you cleared your throat to speak up. “Uh gently, please. I want to feel it, but I don’t want to think I may die.” Lucifer smiled with understanding and nodded, before blowing his tea a little.

“How often do you want me to do it?” “I have not really thought about that… at least once?”

“Ok then we will see if it seems appropriate to do it again after the first time.”

You both nodded and a little awkwardness spread over the silence between you two, as you took a careful sip of the hot tea. “Well if it gets too much, just snap your fingers and I’ll stop.” You nodded in confirmation, letting the devil take the lead. “Do you know how to chose someone?”

You shook your head. “I mean it is pretty straight forward, right?” Lucifer sighed and put his mug on the coffee table, before taking yours and putting it next to his. He gestured you closer and you both scooted towards the middle of the couch. His warm fingers moved towards your neck and rested just below your jawline. He felt around, before settling his fingers somewhere.

“I’m going to apply some pressure, see if you think it feels comfortable.” You hummed and Lucifer squeezes gently on either side of your esophagus.

“I can still breathe,” you murmured as he held you.

Lucifer let go of you and chuckled. “That’s the point, darling. You didn’t think I was supposed to crush your windpipe, did you?” You looked away. “Oh dearie, you did…” He cleared his throat before turning your head back to him with a single finger on your jawline. “Choking,” he stared as his fingers slowly went back to your neck, “is not about depriving you of oxygen.” With his other hand, he grabbed yours and brought a finger to where his thumb rested on your neck. As he pressed your finger against your own skin, you could feel your pulse. “Instead, I am restricting the oxygen from going to your brain by blocking the arteries in your neck.”

“Oh.” He chuckled at your reaction and let your hand go, which dropped back into your lap. Lucifer continued repeatedly squeezing and releasing, checking in with you to figure out the right pressure and place. It took a good hour at least and your tea had gotten cold on the table. “I think we got it down,” you breathed out as Lucifer let go of you again.

“How so?” Lucifer questioned in a teasing tone. You took his hand and slid it inside your pants and underwear. A devilish grin morphed onto his lips. “Oh, I think you may be right, darling.”

-----

Lucifer wanted you, before his fingers found their place on your neck again. His cock was at your opening and as he slid inside your wet hole, he squeezed firmly. At first you didn’t notice it much, but then after a few seconds, you felt a pressure in your head. You breathed heavily as Lucifer slowly fucked you with his hand on your neck. When your eyes rolled a little, Lucifer let go and you gasped. The haze at the edges of your vision disappeared and you could breathe freely again as he lifted your legs up and nearly folded you in half before going to pound town. You let out a long moan as he made you feel good with his cock.

“Do it again,” you whined and he spread your legs. Lucifer’s pace did not relent as his hand reached for your throat. You lifted your head up to give him better access. Your hands rested on the back of your legs, keeping yourself open for him. “Thank you,” you moaned as that same haze came back to you. Lucifer held you longer this time and you loved it, until things started to get too hazy and the fear dropped like a bucket of ice water over your body. You scratched at his arm, trying to get him off you. It took a second for Lucifer to notice and let go. He slipped out of you as you rolled away and bent over, gasping for air. You sucked in air, regaining clarity with each passing second. When you were finally clear-minded again, you noticed the glass held out for you. You took the water from Lucifer’s hand and drank half of it, before putting it on the night stand.

“Are you all right, love?” You nodded and lied down on your back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have held you that long, but you seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did, I just… Suddenly didn't… Sorry I totally forgot to just snap my fingers.” You eyed the red scratches on his arm. Lucifer smiled and waved it off.

He lied down next to you and held your hand. “Could happen. It was your first time after all. Want to wait a little and then try again or are you done for tonight?”

You shrugged and moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. “Can we just lie here for a little, before I decide?”

Lucifer put his arm around you and hummed. He gently placed a kiss on your head. “Of course, whatever my handsome boy needs.”

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer one shot #Lucifer x male reader #lucifer x trans male reader #bottom reader #trans male reader #trans reader #male reader #x male reader #lemon

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nerdzzone · 4 years ago

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Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: September

Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!

-----

October 2020

"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.

"Sure, what's up?"

I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.

"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.

"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."

Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.

"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."

"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"

I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.

"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."

"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."

"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."

"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."

"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."

"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."

"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."

He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.

"I can't wait."

November 2020

Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.

Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.

By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"

"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."

"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."

"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."

He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.

"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."

"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."

I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.

Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.

"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."

Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.

"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"

I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.

"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."

"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."

His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.

When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.

"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."

"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."

I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.

He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.

After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.

My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.

"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"

"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."

"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."

He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.

"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."

"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."

He chuckled at that, but shook his head.

"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."

He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.

"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."

My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.

"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."

"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.

It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.

His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.

Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.

"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."

He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.

As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.

Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."

A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.

Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.

"How're you feeling?"

I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.

"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."

Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.

He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.

"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."

Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."

Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.

"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."

"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."

He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.

"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."

I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.

"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."

His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.

"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"

Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.

A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.

He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.

In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.

I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.

"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"

He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.

"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."

The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.

"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."

That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.

"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."

He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.

"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."

He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.

Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.

As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.

"Wait! Condom."

Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.

"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."

A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.

I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.

Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.

Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.

Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.

I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.

He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.

"See? Patience. It makes everything better."

I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.

"Shut up."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.

"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."

"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."

He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.

No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.

November [part two]

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years ago

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the best day

pairing: single dad!poe x daughter

warnings: briefest mention of sex, mention of minor bullying

word count: 1.5k

inspired by: ‘the best day’ - taylor swift

a/n: i had this in my head for awhile, i hope you enjoy! if you’d like to be added to my permanent tag list and be tagged in anything i post, please let me know! if i tagged you and you’d like to be removed let me know too!

The sound of the front door slamming shut caught Poe’s attention from the kitchen followed by heavy footsteps going straight up the staircase. He had decided to leave work early and surprise his daughter by being home when she got home from school and was making her an afternoon snack. A second door slamming shut made him furrow his brow and he put down the knife he was using to cut up an apple to go upstairs and investigate.

“Hon?” He knocked softly but only heard silence on the other side of the door. He knocked again before opening. “Hey, I’ve got some apples cut up if you want—“

She sat at her desk, head on top of her arms and her shoulders shaking. The breath she took in shook with sadness. Poe frowned and walked over slowly, not wanting to frighten her.��

“Hey…” He put his hand on her back and rubbed it gently. “What’s going on?”

All she could do was cry, the sound breaking his heart right in two. He kneeled down next to her so he was eye level and she immediately threw her arms around his neck, crying softly into his shoulder. Poe hugged her tightly, cupping the back of her head and kissing the side of it. She didn’t say anything and he didn’t push her to. He just let her cry.

Her tears slowed and her cries grew quieter until the only noise that came from her was sniffles.

“Are you hurt?” He asked quietly and she shook her head, a quiet sigh of relief escaping his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She took a shaky breath in and it caught.

“I…I d-don’t—“

He shook his head and kissed her cheek. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

She nodded and hugged him tighter. Poe held onto her as she continued to calm down. He moved back and cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping the leftover tears away.

“Come with me.”

He stood up and headed out of her room with her right behind him. She followed him downstairs and he told her to wait in the foyer while he put the apples in the fridge and grabbed his keys. They went out to the car and she got in the front seat.

“Where are we going?” Her voice was hoarse from crying. Poe started the car and looked over at her with a soft smile.

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.”

Poe set out on the road, her favorite top 40 radio station filling the silence at a low volume. He looked over at her occasionally, her head not moving from its place against the window as she watched the trees and houses pass by. The tears hadn’t returned but she still looked down.

Being a single dad was tough. Poe had to be both mom and dad, which was admittedly easier when she was younger. Left at his doorstep by an ex-girlfriend at just a couple months old with a note tucked into her car seat, Poe thought he had done a pretty good job raising her without a mother. She was kind, polite, and the two of them were thick as thieves. But there were times when Poe felt the pressures of raising a girl, now a teenager, alone.

He was lucky to have such strong women in his life to be there for his daughter and so grateful to have them step in and help him, especially when she started asking about boys and when her time of the month first came around. Poe was good at a lot of things, but that was way out of his comfort zone.

He was so proud of the woman his daughter was becoming, but he’d be a fool to hide the fact that he was terrified about her teenage years and all the firsts that came with it — her first kiss, her first heartbreak and, god forbid, her first time. He found himself wishing a lot of the time that he she would just stay little forever.

Poe finally stopped the car about an hour later and she looked around, not recognizing where they were. Small shops lined the street on either side, big windows with their big colorful displays catching people’s attentions.

“Dad, where are we?” She asked as she got out of the car. He looked around for some kind of sign and shrugged.

“Ummm, I’m not really sure. I just kind of drove. Let’s walk around and find out.”

He walked up to the sidewalk and looked back when he saw she wasn’t following him. He gave her a humored smile.

“Come on.”

She looked at him skeptically and caught up with him. They walked by a few stores, taking a minute to look at the items in the window but not going inside. She didn’t seem all that interested, but Poe was hoping there would be something here that would make her forget whatever it was that was troubling her. It wasn’t until they got to the other side of the road that she finally spoke.

“I heard my friends talking about me behind my back.” Poe looked at her and she looked down and played with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“They hurt your feelings.”

She nodded and swallowed hard to keep herself from crying again. Poe put his arm around her shoulder.

“Girls are….young teenage girls especially….” He was at a loss. He had never personally dealt with any kind of girl drama before, so he really had no idea why her friends would do that and what to say to make her feel better.

“In my opinion, because I have no knowledge of how teenage girls operate…I think if you talk about someone behind their back, you’re insecure or jealous. Maybe even a little bit cowardly…because they can’t say it to your face.”

She nodded slowly and sighed. “I don’t like some of the same thing they do.”

“There’s nothing wrong that.”

“I think they think I’m…uncool or something. I don’t know.”

“Sweetheart…” Poe stopped walking and she looked up at him. “You are your own person. If there’s something you don’t like, big or small…you shouldn’t pretend to just because you think it’ll keep them around. I hate pickles with a passion and your Aunt Rey and Aunt Leia don’t understand why…but they don’t think I’m any less cool.”

She bit back a smile. “That’s…not exactly the same thing, dad.”

He shrugged and smiled softly. “My point is…don’t change yourself for anyone and don’t sacrifice your comfort and happiness just to please someone else.”

She knew he was right, he always was…but she couldn’t take him to school with her the next day to help her when she came face-to-face with them. How many more of her friends talked about her behind her back? Who would she talk to? And how long would she feel hurt by this? The questions swirled around in her head. The sadness she had felt earlier had been replaced by anxiety. Poe squeezed her shoulder as if he could sense it and she gave him the smallest of smiles.

She stayed silent and he kept his arm around her as he started walking again. They came across a store that had a shirt she liked in the window and she stopped to look at it.

“Want to go in?” Poe asked. She bit her lip.

“Can we?”

He nodded and gestured towards the door, allowing her to lead the way. She walked inside and looked back at him.

“You know, I hate pickles too.”

“They’re the worst.” She nodded in agreement and let out a giggle and he smiled at the sight of a smile on her face.

They spent hours walking around and Poe let her go to every store she wanted to go to. They talked about everything not related to school until she completely forgot about them and laughed and smiled harder than she thought she could muster up after what had happened at school earlier. She found some clothes that she really liked and Poe bought them for her before stopping for ice cream. They each chose a flavor and gave half of their ice cream to the other, a little tradition they had started a few years prior.

The drive home was happier. Her phone was hooked up to the car’s bluetooth and played her favorite songs, most of which Poe had never even heard of. She sang along, Poe looking at her when questionable lyrics came up. All she did was shrug and sing louder. He eventually turned the music to his favorite classic rock station, to which she laughed as she protested, and then it was Poe’s turn to sing loudly at the top of his lungs. He smiled widely when she started singing along with him, all the bad parts of the day completely forgotten.

What was a bad day quickly became one of the best days she’d had in a long while, and she had her dad to thank for that. She knew she always would.

[permanent tag list] - @dameronsgalaxygal @cloud-leader @multifandomlife22 @frietiemeloen @xxidontwikeitxx @justanotherblonde23

#poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x daughter #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron one shot #modern poe dameron #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years ago

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Savior

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Basically, Bucky saves you and then stalks you.

Words: 1596

Warning/notes: it’s just fluff…that’s it. There’s some cursing. At the end is a random day in the future. High chance of typos…like mega high.

He had saved you once; just once. One time you found yourself in a questionable situation with some drunk men who wanted your money. And yes, you were grateful for the rescue, and yes, he was Bucky Barnes; The Winter Soldier; the super sexy, metal-armed, bad boy turned good. But that didn’t mean he was allowed to stalk you, and yet, that’s all he’d done since he handed you your purse back and sent those men to the emergency room.

Every day for two weeks you’d seen him and somehow, despite his skill, it seemed he had failed to notice that you were well aware of him watching. First, it was Maggie’s Diner on a Friday evening as you ate dinner with your friends. Maggie had come over to greet her long-time customers, and as she did, she patted your shoulder with a coy smile and a chuckle, pointing to the back of a man who sat at the counter top.

“Every few minutes he looks your way, Y/N. I think he might have a little crush.” She’d said.

You had looked past her plump form and immediately knew it was him. The baseball cap hiding his brown locks pulled low over his eyes; The black leather jacket snugly fitted over his shoulders with a sleeve that slipped up every time he took a sip of his drink, showing an inch of his metal arm. For who he was, his subtlety was surprisingly lacking.

Your friends had only oohed and awed. Anyone would know he was hot even if only looking at him from behind. There was no way God would give him a body like that and not grant a face to match. But it didn’t faze you. You knew better, you just didn’t know why he was choosing to follow you of all people.

After that, it was seeing him outside of your workplace, watching from across the street and quickly hiding his face if you glanced his way. When you thought he had finally left you alone, you saw him at the local summer carnival. If you played the balloon dart game, he was a few booths down shooting little rotating metal ducks with a toy shotgun like they were the enemy. If you went to the arcade, he was fifteen feet away playing the claw game and winning himself a fairly substantial sized stuffed bear that he later used to duck behind when you whipped around fast to see if you could catch him staring.

He was relentless, you would give him that. But you didn’t know how long he would trail your every move before giving up. It seemed like he would never stop, and you were growing tired of playing the oblivious.

————————————————–

Your eyes bore into the back pages of the wide-open newspaper he’d been pretending to read for the last hour as you sipped your coffee a few tables over. He flicked the top corner down half and inch and, with one eye, peered over it. With your lips around the plastic cup you rose an eyebrow and he quickly straightened the paper again.

You chuckled. There was something cute about how he watched over you like some sort of guardian angel. Cute, of course, if it wasn’t so fucking creepy.

Standing sharply, you tossed your empty cup into the nearest trash can and made your way over to him, then snatched the paper right out of his large hands. You crossed your arms and stared down at him.

“You really don’t give up, huh?”

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in the polished wooden chair. “I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. He didn’t know what you were talking about, and yet, he figured out your name. You certainly hadn’t told him before. “Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around? Like saving the world or something?”

He crossed his arms, staring up at you in sudden slight challenge. “It’s been surprisingly quiet lately. And believe it or not, little old ladies who need help crossing the street prefer Captain America.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Bucky sighed and removed his cap to run a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’ve stayed save, that’s all.”

“Well, as you’ve seen, I’ve been a good girl.”

“Yea, you’ve been a good girl,” He said, his eyes meeting yours. You shivered at the way those words passed his lips. “But it’s got nothing to do with your behavior. It’s others. I don’t trust them.”

You glared down at him but he didn’t flinch, only glared back with an intensity that could not be broken. “Can I ask you one thing?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know where I live?”

His fixed stare cracked at your question and his eyes darted to his lap. “…No,” He mumbled, then looked back at you.

You narrowed your gaze and frowned. “Are you lying?”

“…Maybe.”

“Jesus,” You scoffed. “Do you know how creepy that is?”

“It’s not creepy!” He snapped a little too loud, drawing the attention of other coffee-craving patrons. He lowered his voice at the numerous scowls. “It’s good intentions disguised as somewhat crossing a boundary.”

“Somewhat?”

“Yes, somewhat. It could be much worse. I could’ve snooped around your apartment. The worst I’ve done is make sure the locks on your front door can’t be opened with a twisted paper clip.”

“…I should be so mad,” You said. “I should file a restraining order, for fucks sake.”

His eyebrows rose and lips parted as the last thread of his tough composure busted. “You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m…” You uncrossed your arms, shedding your hardened shell. “I don’t know, but I’m—”

“But you’re not mad,” He smiled.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “…No.”

——————————————————–

You groaned at the horrible, grating sound that yanked you out of a deep sleep. Turning your head left and right, you noticed two things that had the corners of your mouth tipping down. One, the clock on your dresser read three in the morning. Two, your boyfriend was not in bed beside you. Then that piercing sound began again.

Throwing the covers off your legs and tiptoeing out of the bedroom, you looked around to find Bucky at your entryway, drilling a barrel bolt and chain lock across the front door. With a breathy chuckle, you stepped up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, then placed a small kiss at the back of his neck.

“Are you aware of the time?” You asked against his skin.

“Almost done,” He replied. He picked up another screw, placed it appropriately, and shocked your eardrums once again with the large electric tool. “There,” He said with satisfaction then turned in your arms.

He set the drill on the side table where your keys lived and wrapped his arms around you.

“Baby…” You started.

He hummed back.

“What are you doing?”

“I forgot to put the locks on last night before bed.”

“It couldn’t wait until morning?”

He shook his head. “I heard a bunch of drunk stumbling in the hallway about a half hour ago. Someone jiggled the doorknob.”

“And is the offender still alive?”

“Oh, Ha Ha.” He said sarcastically. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Somehow I think you sleeping next to me is more effective than a couple locks, safety wise.”

“You can never be too cautious, Doll.”

Snickering, you touched your forehead to his bare chest. “Oh, God…”

“You’re upset.”

You looked up at him and leaned up to softly kiss him. “No, Baby. I just love you. I love that you take such good care of me.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

He tucked some hair behind your ear. “I’m always afraid one day you’ll find me too overprotective.”

Shaking your head, you said “I think you’re just protective enough.”

He smiled and cupped your face, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I love you, too.”

“I know,” You grinned. “You make that clearer every day.”

———————————————————

Extra: Random Day, Two Years Later…

“Apples, check; Chicken, check; Shampoo, check; Weird book that your mother wanted for her birthday, check” You said to yourself as you looked over your list. That was the last of it and thank God; you hated shopping. You were ready to hightail it out of there once you found your husband.

As if summoned at the thought of him, Bucky’s large form appeared at your side. You looked up at him with an affectionate smile that immediately dropped when you saw the puppy-dog expression on his face. Then, you looked down.

“No,” You said sternly and glanced back at the wrinkly piece of white notepad paper in your hands.

“What do you mean ‘no?’ He whined.

“I mean,” You met his eyes, “No.” You stared at the numerous equally shaped boxes bundled in his arms—four of them, by your count—and shook your head. “We don’t need any more.”

“How can you say that?”

Turning your body toward his, you crossed your arms the best you could over your swelling belly. “Because as it is, we have eight, two per room in the apartment and that is if we include the bathroom. I am not changing that to three.”

“Y/N, baby monitors are necessary.”

“Yes, one per room. And don’t think for a second I’m not taking the ones out of the bathroom.”

“And if our baby crawls in there?”

“She won’t. We’ll watch her.”

“Y/N—”

“Put them back, Bucky.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

Tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @genius2050 @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @missjayi @supernaturalwintersoldier

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marlahey · 4 years ago

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under the same roof part two: an old friend

a harry styles rpf part two of six ratings/warnings: the stalking comes to an alarming head via chase, suggestion of violent intent, aggressive emotions, fuck the patriarchy notes: things get serious, intimacy occurs, we all suffer. moments were edited or cut to reinforce the utter lack of actual romance in a real stalking situation, but I promise we’ve made up for it in later parts! fun fact: on a lighter note, this series should probably just be titled: sweet things that have actually occurred to annie that she forgot she wrote in and so suffers in every edit session.

masterlist | part one | part three (14.12.2020) ... • friday, 4th january 8:34 pm • Blood roars in your ears as you sprint through the parking garage, but the sound isn’t loud enough to drown out the pounding footfalls that aren’t your own. Every gulp of air burns your throat but you can’t stop, you can’t even slow down. The hum of industrial ceiling lights overhead is the only other sound. No one would hear you scream.

You’d heard the second car door after yours, and the initial footsteps. A quick turn of your head was your worst fear realized: the blue-eyed man beelining towards you, so quickly you’d barely had a chance to try and outpace him. A heavy hand landed on your shoulder as the man grabbed a fistful of your cardigan before yanking back on the fabric. Twisting desperately against his hold, you’d heard a faint pop-pop-pop as the stitching around your collar snapped and gave. You’d practically fallen away from him before scrambling upright, sliding with little traction on the dusty concrete beneath your feet, and bolting towards the open center of the lot. Your breath pours out into the air. There are no security cameras. Why are there no security cameras? A white, hot panic inside your head makes it hard to think, but you must. You can’t take the lift as it leads to a dead end, so it’ll have to be the stairs. The torn neck of your sweater leaves one of your shoulders naked to the cold. You came so close to draping a scarf around your shoulders before you left your apartment this morning. Had you kept it on, you could have been dead by now. You tear through the door to the stairwell at the other end of the garage and take the steps by two. At any moment an obstacle could arise—a locked door, a dead phone battery, a hard fall on the stairs—and that would be it for you. You’d be a gruesome headline or a face on a milk carton. You would never see your siblings, or India, or Chowder, or your parents ever again. Hot tears sting the corners of your eyes. On the last flight of stairs before the lobby, the sound of the stairwell door slamming echoes up the passageway. You look instinctively. A black, gloved hand is making its way up the railing. You almost lose your balance bursting through to the lobby, and even though your legs are screaming, you do what all the brochures have ever told you to do and break into another full-fledged run to the lift around the corner. You wish you’d chosen a building with a doorman or security desk—some kind of human checkpoint. “No, no, no,” you beg under your breath, launching an arm between the closing doors. You stumble, half expecting it to be empty, and find yourself face to face with Harry. His eyes skim you over, widening from behind his glasses. You’re still clinging to the doors of the lift. Down the hall and around the bend, the door to the stairwell bangs open again; you wince. Harry’s eyebrows knit together. Thinking on your feet, you lurch inside and drag your hand along the keypad, illuminating just about every random floor up to the penthouses in the twenties, but not eight, and nothing before it. Harry’s eyes dart between yours and the doors. The footsteps in the hall behind you grow louder. You smash the close door button a dozen times, but something in you knows it’s a lost effort. You rush forward and tuck yourself into Harry’s side, tearing his name tag off and stuffing it in your bag. He startles, twisting to look at you, but you stick to your guns and slip your arm around his back. A moment later your eyes meet in the vaguely distorted metallic reflection above the keypad. Harry’s eyes are full of questions; a plea is in yours. For a second time, the doors of the lift begin to close but are stopped by an interjecting hand. A third body enters. It is him. That yellow-grey hair, the wrinkles and the scar on his lip, the worn, leathery skin… Immediately, the man turns to stare at you, and scoffs. You jump, your hand instinctively grasping the back of Harry’s jacket. You will your knees to be still. The lift doors close. It is silent until the car lurches upward. Suddenly you feel a warm, heavy pressure across your shoulders. In the reflection of the doors, you watch Harry’s arm wrap around you. He squeezes once. Your frantic gaze is pinned down by his much more fixed one. He feels so solid pressed into your side, and his eyes are solemn behind his glasses. More serious, maybe, than you’ve ever seen in the last year. Harry’s lips quirk—the suggestion of a smile—before he looks down at his feet: a ruse of casual nonchalance. Your stomach twists. The blue-eyed man sighs impatiently. Harry moves his hand to your waist and pulls you even tighter into his side. The car bounces to a stop on the sixth floor with a ding. As the doors glide open, it dawns on you that you had not thought this all the way through to the end. Do you go with Harry? What if you put Sylvia in danger? What if the man follows you? Harry’s arm drops from your shoulders. The same white hot panic from the garage sears behind your eyes. Is this it? Is Harry about to leave you alone to your fate? You almost miss his hand reaching back for you, like it’s something he does all the time. Harry squeezes, hard enough to nearly be painful. It starts you into motion. Your legs feel stiff and inflexible like they can’t remember how to walk as he pulls you along, keeping himself between you and the blue-eyed man. You’re off. The doors close. Harry glances over his shoulder, your hand still tight in his. He gently guides you to walk in front of him, and you shudder at the thought of the man still watching. You do not hear a third pair of footsteps trailing you, and you do not dare turn around to check. There’s something eerie in walking down a hall identical to your own but knowing that none of these doors are yours. “This is me.” Harry’s voice is low around the jingle of his keys as he nods to the only door in the hallway hung with a wreath. You say nothing as he steps aside to let you through. He peers into the hall one last time once you’re both inside before locking the door, deadbolt, and chain guard. You lean your back against the wall with your arms across your chest, clutching your sides. He looks over at you slowly, hesitates, and takes a step toward you. His Adam's apple bobs. Suddenly the air leaves your lungs entirely and you begin to heave. You feel as though you’d been sprinting on a treadmill for an hour and then stopped immediately, which keeps you from realizing that Harry has been saying your name. Tears gather in your eyes again; if you allowed yourself to blink, they would spill over. You begin to sink against the wall. Harry catches your elbows in his hands, but you keep sinking anyway. He follows you all the way down to the floor. “Sorry,” you gasp. “You’re safe.” Harry just shakes his head. “I’ve got you.” You nod and try to send a few deep breaths to the pit of your stomach, then clear your throat. “Call the police.” Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet, flicking on light switches and digging his phone from out of his bag. You hear, “Yes, hello. I’d like to report… following my neighbor.” Your mind reels. Harry’s voice sounds almost distorted, like you’re underwater. “In my apartment with me.” You catch, “...followed her into the lift,” as well as “Yes,” and “No,” to a series of questions before he reappears with a concentrated frown, watching you. “She’s safe.” You pick yourself up off the floor and Harry gestures to the small two-person dining table. He angles his cellphone down to his chest as he’s pulling the chair out for you. “Do you want to speak with them?” he whispers. You take a deep breath and nod, holding out your hand. Your fingers tremble, so you place it face up on the table instead and turn on the speaker. He may as well find out now; you can’t imagine having to explain all this a second time. “Hello?” “Hello, my name’s Officer Warren. We hear you’ve had quite a scare tonight. I know it’s hard, but try to stay as calm as possible and just answer a few questions for me as best you can.” The fact that the dispatcher is a woman comforts you. “Okay.” “Are you injured?” “No.” “Can you just confirm your full name for me? And your address?” You rattle off your details, noting with strange detachment that you and Harry live precisely two floors apart. His flat is 6F; yours is 8F. “How long have you lived there?” “Almost a year.” “And how long have you been in the UK?” “About two and a half years. I’m a student at UCL.” “I understand you’re with a neighbor. Do you feel as though you’re in immediate danger?” You look up at Harry before your eyes dart to his front door, hesitating for longer than you want to. “No.” “Can you tell me what’s happened?” You close your eyes. “A man tried to grab me in the parking garage.” “Was this a man you’ve met before?” “He’s been following me since June. I see him everywhere I go. It happened the first few times in public places like on my walk home or when I go jogging, but then I started seeing him everywhere.” Your eyes open again. “Like, I’ve seen him on campus and in restaurants where I was eating. He was walking behind me the first time I ever went to Ilford for work, which is completely out of my way. He took the same tube as me once and tried to grab my hand.” You hear Harry’s knuckles crack across the table from you. “And how long ago was that?” “December twentieth.” “Have you ever come to the police with this information?” “Yes. I filed a report at the Lavender Hill station on the first of October and we went through some headshots but none of them were him.” You hear a series of keystrokes. “Yes, I see your file here. And can you describe what happened today?” “I was picking up some archives at the Ilford Historical Society–” “For school?” “Yes. I’m a research assistant. They have a postbox under my advisor’s name. I usually pick up the archives for the week on Thursdays, but I didn’t get around to it until a few hours ago. It’s usually just three or four storage boxes but today there was a sealed yellow envelope—” Your voice runs higher, choked. You turn away from Harry as you swallow another wave of emotion, but your voice is hardly any different when you begin speaking again. When you turn back, Harry’s hand is a little closer to yours on the table. “Today there was this big yellow envelope with my name handwritten on it and I figured it was just something from my advisor, so after I carried everything to the car, I opened it, and it… there were all these pictures of me.” “Are you able to tell where these photos were taken? What you were doing in them?” Your bag sits half open on the table beside you; you can tell without looking that Harry’s followed your eyes to the mustard yellow envelope poking out the top. You don’t want to open it again. You don’t have to. The images are burned behind your eyelids. “There’s one of me on the tube looking at my phone. Another one of me leaving the shops. There’s a few at the gym.” You sniffle. “Most of them are taken through the window of my flat. They must’ve been across the street because you can see me through the blinds and I’m—when I don’t…” You stare at the edge of the table. “When I’m undressing.” You lean your forehead into your hand. Harry is stock still across from you. The pause before the officer speaks again feels like it stretches forever. “Can you tell when the most recent photo was taken?” It takes a beat to admit, “It’s from two nights ago,” and the words taste bitter in your mouth. The clack of a keyboard is audible again through the phone. “You said you’ve been to the Lavender Hill station before? Have you reported these photos yet?” You gather your thoughts. “I was going to go straight there, but I wrote these long descriptions of all the past times I’d seen him. The officer I spoke to the first time I went in, she told me to write down absolutely everything I remembered, so I did—the times of day I’d seen him, where I was, what I was wearing… She said having my own record would help my chances of opening an investigation. I keep all of that at home in my flat, so I decided to go home and grab my notes to bring with me to the station, along with the pictures. I borrow my best friend’s car to commute to Ilford, so I drove straight home.” “And what happened when you got home? In the car park?” You take a deep breath. And then another. Your eyes squeeze shut again. “Take all the time you need.” “I turned into the car park… I pulled into my usual spot. I took off my jacket and left it in the passenger seat, thinking I would come back to it in a minute. I got out of the car and locked it… ” You swallow dryly. “I heard a car door shut behind me. I turned around and saw the man—I recognized him.” “Do you remember what he was wearing?” “He was wearing, um, black gloves, a grey sweater, black jeans, and I think his shoes were black too.” You frown at your hands. “I could hear how quickly he was walking up behind me. I tried to get away, and he—” You swallow. “He grabbed me. Or at least, he tried. He tore the seam of my sweater and I managed to like, pull away. And then I just ran. I was too scared to try the lift so I just took the stairs all the way up to the lobby. But he followed me.” Your eyes flicker up to Harry absently before you go on. “Harry was in the lift—the—my neighbor, so I ran over and put my arm around him to make it seem like I wasn’t alone.” Harry nods at you from across the table. “And the man was able to follow you into the lift?” The tips of your fingers ache at the memory of slamming desperately into the close door button. “Yes.” “Did he try to communicate with you in any way?” You shake your head and then remember she can’t see you. “No. He was just staring at me.” “Has he ever approached you or tried to make contact before?” “Just the one time on the tube and the pictures.” “Were you followed out of the lift?” “No.” “And you’re in your neighbor’s flat now, is that right?” “Yeah.” You run your sleeve beneath your nose with a sniffle. “And the man knows which floor you got off at?” ”Correct.” “Do the windows in both of your flats face out on the same street?” Your stomach drops. “Yes… They do.” “I want you to remain calm and stay on the line, can you do that for me?” It’s deadly quiet as you and Harry look at each other. You feel eerily as though you’ve wound up in a Hitchcock film. “Yes.” “Move away from the windows and find a place in the flat that’s not visible from the street—” The legs of Harry’s chair are scraping the floor before you get the chance to react. “...and do not turn out any lights or change the way any of the blinds are positioned.” “C’mere.” Harry’s voice is gravely urgent. He leads you to the kitchen with a hand between your shoulder blades, and brushes past you to lower the blinds of a small window above the sink. Your eyes widen as your hand reaches toward him. “Harry—” He glances back, too late. “Don’t… ” You stumble. “Don’t fix any more of those.” He nods once. “Yes, don’t touch the blinds. Don’t change anything that would make it look out of the ordinary. If someone has been staking out your building from the same place across the street every night, you could give yourself away and put you both at risk.” “Okay.” Harry leans against the sink with his arms crossed, and you mirror him. “Since you already have a file on record and the whereabouts of this man are still uncertain, it might do more harm than good to have you come in again for questioning at this hour. But we’ll need you to come by first thing in the morning. You absolutely cannot go back to your flat tonight. He knows very well which unit is yours, and he’s clearly found access into the building somehow. Do not turn on the lights, do not fuss with the blinds, do not go to retrieve any belongings. If it’s something dire, an officer can escort you.” “Okay.” “And don’t leave the building, either. If you need a place to stay, there’s a section of the precinct that can hold you till morning. An officer will have to drive you there, too.” “Okay,” you parrot. “Listen carefully. It’s not forever, but right now we need you to keep yourself absolutely out of sight. Anything that could result in your being followed… Well, we would strongly advise against your taking unnecessary risks. We obviously want to keep you and anyone else involved as safe as possible.” “I understand.” “A patrol officer is en route to your address. He’ll stay posted outside the building for a few hours. If something happens, don’t hesitate to call. Is this a number we can redial if need be?” You look up to Harry; he nods fiercely. “Yes.” “Try to get some rest. You’re safe now, and we’ll see you first thing in the morning.” “Thank you, officer.” You pass Harry’s phone back to him before digging through your bag to retrieve your own. The dial tone rings in your ear as you turn to face the living room. You’re sent to voicemail. “Uh… hi, Mom. It’s me. Just give me a call back when you get this, okay? I—um… Everything’s fine I should just… give you an update, so. Anyways. Talk soon. Love you.” You set your phone down on the counter, but can’t manage to meet his eyes. Some part of you had been worried that he would judge you—or worse, pity you. He doesn’t speak, nor does he try to touch you. Your eyes are pulled towards two sets of rainbow-painted handprints stuck to Harry’s fridge—one large, one tiny. A wave of nausea washes over you at the imposition you’ve entitled yourself to, the risk involved, the implications. “Thank you.” Harry jumps at the sound of your voice. “For everything. I should—” you loop an arm through the strap of your bag— “I should go.” “Woah, woah, woah… ” Harry catches your arm before you can take three steps. You freeze. He releases you immediately. “And go where? You heard the officer, yeah?” He’s shaking his head slowly. “You can’t go back to your flat.” “I did hear her,” you counter. It comes out more curt than you had meant it. “There’s a safe place for me to sleep at the precinct… Thank you again, I can show myself out.” “That’s ridiculous—” You turn away and he says your name, once, imploring. It’s more of a plea than a demand, keeping you still. You still have your eyes on the door, but since you’re no longer moving, Harry goes on. “You can stay here, it’s fine. I’ve got a spare bed n’ all. You can sleep in Vi’s room.” Your resolve wavers. His voice is a pitch softer as he asks, “What is it?” Your mouth hangs open a moment before you can find the right words. “I don’t—we don’t…” We don’t know each other seems far too accusatory with everything that’s transpired between you, especially after tonight. You grind your teeth, reeling the words back. Harry’s fingers touch your elbow, hesitating, and when you don’t pull away he wraps his hand gently around your arm. Tears well up in your eyes and you can’t blame them on the guilt, fear, or relief alone… all of it at once leaves you itching to escape. “We’re practically strangers,” you settle on finally. “I put you in danger, and I put your family in danger—” Harry’s thumb rotates in tiny circles in the crook of your arm, a touch so light you can barely feel it. You think unbidden of the lift on New Year’s Eve, and the brush of his lips over yours. You want to fall headlong back into that memory—to abate what is shaping up to be one of the worst nights of your life. “I’m Harry.” You blink. “What?” He smiles at you—a quick, sanguine flicker of a thing. “I’m Harry… Styles. I’m twenty-six. I graduated from Kings with a Bachelors in Art History and Psychology. I’m an Administrative Assistant to the Director of the National Gallery—” his smile is real now, wider— “But sometimes I pick up shifts keepin’ an eye on the gallery for the extra few quid… I have a daughter named Sylvia. She’s almost five. I get her every other week. I grew up in Cheshire. I have a sister named Gemma and my mum’s name is Anne.” You sniffle. “Why are you telling me all this?” “So you and I aren’t strangers anymore.” You have no idea how to respond. “You’ve never been here before,” Harry continues. “If someone’s been keeping close tabs on our building, then maybe this is the safest place for you right now. If I felt you were putting my daughter in harm’s way—” you open your mouth to speak and he raises a finger— “I would ask you to leave… As it is, if you go now, I feel that I would be putting you in harm’s way… And I don’t want to.” The two of you stand at a stalemate. “Please don’t make me.” Harry lets go of your arm and eventually backs up to lean against the sink again. You could leave if you wanted to. Eventually you sigh and drop your bag down to the kitchen floor with a thud. “Are you hungry?” Harry asks. “I was gonna fix something for myself anyway.” You shake your head. “I don’t think I could eat anything right now.” The more powerful urge is to erase this night from memory, to scrub away the feeling of a rough hand on your shoulder. You absently rub your thumb into the sleeve of your shirt where the grime from the door to the stairwell had smeared. Your shoulder is still bare from the gaping hole. Harry tilts his head, as if he’s going to say something more, but you blurt, “Could I use your shower actually?” “Of course.” He leads you to the end of a brief hallway with three adjacent doors, only one of which is open. “Be back in a sec.” Harry emerges moments later with two folded towels, then flicks on the light as you trail behind him. Your eyes are immediately drawn to Harry in the broad mirror that covers the entire wall above the sink. His bathroom is virtually identical to yours, but it’s striking to see his familiar reflection somewhere outside of the lift. Harry pushes aside the curtain to the shower. “Fuck.” He sets the towels down on the toilet seat and hastily gathers up the army of rainbow rubber ducks lined along the rim of the tub, before yanking off a plastic water wheel suction cupped to the faucet. Clear synthetic stickers in the shape of cartoon rocket ships and planets cling to the shower wall which Harry peels off in a stack before scooping out a myriad of other colorful knick-knacks from the bottom of the tub. “Harry, you don’t have to do that.” “I’m just now realizing how mad this must look to someone who isn’t the parent of a four-year-old—” “Harry, please. You’re already doing so much for me. You don’t need to remodel your bathroom.” “Alright, well… ” Harry rises, brushing his hands down the front of his suit trousers with flushed cheeks and glasses halfway down his nose. He cards his fingers through his hair. “Just be careful not to step on those little sparkly buggers. They’re the most painful by far.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” You have to suppress an laugh at the image of him having stepped on every last toy in the tub enough to compare. “So, like, the red is hot and obviously the blue is cold but it’s very sensitive so I find it’s best to just leave it at about three o’clock—wait you…” Harry shakes his head with a frown. “You probably have the same one, don’t you?” You nod, wringing your hands. “Do you have a shirt or something I could borrow for after?” “Of course,” he almost cuts you off, disappearing into the hallway. You perch on the edge of the tub and run the faucet to adjust the temperature. There’s three raps on the door. “Come in!” you call. Harry squeezes through the door and you catch his eyes in the mirror. “Let me know if these fit.” You watch his reflection lift the clean towels, put down the bundle of clothes, and restack the linens on top with the ease of someone who’s clearly used to taking care of someone else. “Thank you, I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He nods and closes the door firmly behind him. Sylvia’s bath wrap, bright yellow and embroidered with her initials, hangs by its duck shaped hood on a hook next to the door. Steam is starting to rise from the shower. You take a deep lungful and step in carefully. Although childrens’ soaps and clutter are unfamiliar, the water pressure is the same as the shower in your apartment, if not better. It pounds down against your back and shoulders, and for a minute you let yourself just stand in the hot spray. It takes several seconds of inner coaxing before you can close your eyes and tilt your head back beneath the water. A hardened blue stare flashes in your mind’s eye, but you push it back determinedly. You think of Harry’s clear, level gaze. You think of the way he’d looked as he pinned a poppy to your chest—as he’d drank from that half-empty bottle of Prosecco. So you turn your attention to the soap instead. It’s strange to see the source of several of the mingling scents you’ve picked up from him in the lift over so many months, and even more strange to pick the bottles up and use them on yourself. But there’s something cathartic in the act of scrubbing yourself raw, especially the spot on your shoulder where you had to wrench yourself away from that painful grip. By the time the last of the shampoo and soap are swirling down the drain, buoying a tiny rubber duck that Harry had missed, you finally feel a bit more like yourself again. The towels are in easy reach. You wrap your hair in one, wind the other around your body, and tiptoe across the bathmat, wading through a junkyard of toys. A hotel toothbrush packaged in plastic lays atop the pile of clothes Harry had left, so you quickly brush your teeth before giving the bathroom a cursory tidy. You have to roll up the cuffs of his sweatpants to your ankles. You can barely see your own reflection, so you crack open the door to air out the steam a bit. Somewhere a kettle shrieks. You creep into the hall, clutching a neat bundle of your clothes and set your things down on the chest table in the entryway before joining him in the kitchen. Harry has changed out of his work suit and into a plain white tee shirt and grey sweatpants. Sundry, mismatched tattoos are scattered all along his left arm and it catches you by surprise. No rings. You have no idea what to do with yourself, faced with the reality that you’re standing in Harry’s flat, wearing his clothes, smelling like him. You lean gingerly against the counter, sort of surprising yourself as you blurt out, “I thought you said you were hungry?” Harry freezes, like he is both realizing you’re there, and also that he contradicted himself. “Lost my appetite I guess. Tea?” “I’d love some, yeah. If there’s enough water. Thanks.” “Sure.” You watch as Harry pulls down a veritable armada of teabags. “Gotta be prepared,” he says with a vaguely self-deprecating smile. “We take our tea seriously over here. These—” Harry gestures— “haven’t got caffeine.” Something tells you that an entire bottle of cold medicine couldn’t knock you out tonight. “Whatever you’re having is fine.” Your phone vibrates against your hip and you pull it out to skim the text from your mom. Hi honey. Sorry I missed your call, hope everything is alright… It’s late for you now so I’ll try back in the morning. Hugs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as guilt taps you on the shoulder. You’re drained and it would be lovely not to rehash tonight’s events for a second time when you know it would do nothing but worry her. Since you’re in reasonably good hands, you lock your phone and shove it back into the pocket of Harry’s sweats. “How do you take it?” Harry murmurs. “With a little bit of milk, if you don’t mind.” He places your tea on the counter beside you before adding the milk. “I don’t mind,” he mocks your accent gently, and it bothers you how good he is at it. Harry passes you the mug. You raise it to your nose and inhale the steam. “Thank you, Harry, for being so… okay with all of this, and for just like, making me feel… ” You trail off, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to have, like, an ounce of normalcy tonight after all that.” You tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. Harry pushes his glasses up his nose with his thumb and idly plays with the tag hanging by a string over the side of his mug. “I’ve heard you take responsibility a dozen times tonight for the danger that someone else put you in,” he says after a minute. His eyes are vaguely unfocused, and trained on the blinds. “Tonight was not your fault. Like, you were smart, brave and all that, but you shouldn’t have had to be.” He takes a sip. “I’m glad I was there.” Harry doesn’t say anything else. It’s cathartic in a way you wouldn’t have expected, to hear him state it back to you so plainly and without nuance. There’s not a thing you could say to that in defense of the argument that you are indeed to blame. But there were other choices I could have made. I shouldn’t have gone running that morning. I should have known to be more vigilant, buying those groceries. It was reckless of me to choose sheer curtains. I should have apparated to class instead of taking the tube. The logic sounds absurd to you in a new way when held up to the light. You absently stir your tea; there’s an orange tabby painted on the ceramic. “Chowder!” Harry’s eyebrows fly up. “Sorry?” “My cat! He’s all on his own in my apartment.” “Does he have water?” “Yeah, and food. And he's a few years old so he’ll be fine. I just feel awful, he’s never spent the night alone.” You shake your head. “Sorry for making you jump, it just crossed my mind.” “No, it’s okay… Do you want—should I go up and check on him for you?” “No, no. That’s not necessary. I’m just, you know, a terrible cat mom.” “Ha!” Harry barks. It’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard him make. “You don’t even want to… Oh Christ,” he shakes his head, creasing with laughter, “You have no idea.” “What?” You ask after a minute, unable to help yourself from joining in his laughter. His face is turning pink. “Do you have any idea how many nappies I’ve put on backwards? How many haircuts I’ve botched? I mean with my real, human child. I assembled both of Sylvia’s cribs upside down because the instructions were in Japanese. One after the other. It was the same fucking crib.” He deadpans your name at you. “Sylvia’s first word was fuck because Daddy couldn’t shake the habit of saying it all the fucking time.” “Oh my god.” “Yeah. We thought she was just a quiet kid, but then we were getting concerned that she wasn’t speaking by her second birthday. We took her to a speech therapist. So imagine you’re me, watching your daughter in her little highchair with her mum right up in her face, going, “Vi can you say ma-ma? And the child throws her binkie… and yells, Fuck!” You’re laughing so hard it’s completely silent. “Didn’t say it.” He swipes a tear from the corner of his eye, and it bumps up his glasses a little. “Yelled it. Not a thing wrong with her… Oh,” Harry sighs. “Annie wouldn't speak to me for a week.” He shakes his head. “That’s incredible.” “So, like, newsflash… ” He takes a sip of his tea. “Nobody has any idea what they’re doing. There’s no such thing as a perfect parent or, um—cat mum as you said.” “So…” you venture after a pause. “Annie?” Harry laughs once through his nose, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright. Fair.” He sets his tea down on the counter. “Thought maybe we’d get to have this conversation over Prosecco,” he says, chuckling dryly. “Sylvia was definitely… unexpected… ” Harry begins delicately. “But she’s, like the funniest person I know and also my favorite person on the planet. So… I dunno. It worked out.” He clears his throat. “She was conceived on the night I met her mum at a pub in Essex and that was that. Haven’t really looked back. Annie—Vi’s mum—is an amazing person. We were never in love or anythin’ even close, but she’s the best co-parent I could ever dream of.” “Vi’s a cute nickname.” “S’her first name, actually.” Harry smiles over the rim of his mug. “Lanh Vi.” His voice dips low and elongates the first syllable. “Lanh means gentle, happy. Vi is a family name. Annie wanted to give that to her parents, a proper Vietnamese name on her birth certificate. Sylvia’s sort of a good compromise for when she goes to school.” Harry stares at some middle distance, smiling like he isn’t even aware he’s doing it. “Annie’s parents took a little convincing that any of this was going to work out—mine too—but I love our unconventional little family, and I’m really looking forward to her wedding. Sylvia’s in store for two really incredible mums.” He looks back at you and shrugs. “It’s not such a bad life. Sometimes I wish there was a more exciting answer.” “That doesn’t seem like a bad life at all.” The corners of Harry’s lips drop a little the moment you open your mouth. His head is tilted slightly as though he’s trying to gauge your reaction. You try to mirror the same, reassuring smile he’d given you earlier, then cover a yawn with your hand. “What time is it?” you ask. Harry checks his phone. “Half ten—or just gone.” “No it’s not,” you frown, but he holds up his phone to show you. “Oh god…” “Time flies when you’re talking about parenthood.” He takes your empty mugs, setting them carefully in the sink. “Thank you.” Without turning around Harry announces, “I think I’m gonna have you sleep in my bed and I’ll take the air mattress in Sylvia’s room.” “No.” You shake your head. “Harry I swear if you insist on that, I’m calling a taxi to the police station.” “No, honestly… They’re the only two rooms in the flat with the blinds consistently drawn, and her room’s empty most nights anyway since I’m such a pushover.” It takes a moment for that comment to sink in and when it does you feel your heart melt a little. “You’ll sleep much better in my bed than on my inherited air mattress from the nineties.” “I won’t,” you lie seamlessly. “I don’t sleep well in new places anyway, so at least one of us should get a good night’s rest.” “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” he relents. You’re glad you don’t have to argue about it. “Thank you.” Harry leads you to the linen cabinet in the hallway and removes a cardboard box from the very top shelf. An enormous dust cloud falls like an avalanche down his shirt and he coughs hysterically, scrunching his nose. “Last chance to change your mind,” Harry croaks, wiping his glasses on the front of his shirt. You shake your head and he turns to the door across from his, where his bed is half visible in shadow. The two of you shuffle into a cubby of a room, and Harry drops the box onto the plush pile rug with a thud. Your neck cranes as you look around the tiny space, about as roomy as the lift. The walls are painted navy blue with silver and gold stars exploding in a galaxy across the walls, and your hand floats to your chest in memory of when Sylvia had pointed at you with a tiny finger, recognizing the shape at the end of the chain hung around your neck. Her bed frame is painted a deep, forest green and the two small pillows upon it are shaped like rain clouds. Plastic dinosaurs of all different sizes and colors line her windowsill. A small, homemade bookshelf is aligned by the bed. “You mind helping me spread it?” Harry’s voice brings you back down to earth, and you grab two corners of the plastic to lay out the mattress like a picnic blanket on the floor. It’s a tight squeeze, but at least it’s a queen. You look down at it with your hands on your hips, and Harry tilts his head, running a hand over his stubble. Harry steps back out into the hallway, ducking into his bedroom. You hear the creak of a closet door and shifting fabric as the beam of light from his room slants across the hall into Sylvia’s, illuminating a diagonal path right up through the wooden slats of her toybox. There’s a small, familiar shadow outline on top. You crouch down to pick up Jojo and his mother in one hand, running your fingers over the soft velvet of their floppy ears. It feels a little odd, to be so comforted by a child’s toy that doesn't even belong to you, but here you are. “I see you’ve found an old friend.” Harry leans against the doorframe, watching you. His arms are full with a clean sheet, spare pillow, and quilt. The fondness in his voice is hard to miss, but you wonder if it’s for his daughter, for the toy, or for you. “I would’ve thought Sylvia brought him to her mom’s, too.” Harry’s lips twitch with amusement before he puts the pillow and quilt on top of Sylvia’s dresser. “She used to take him everywhere.” He visits every corner of the mattress to tuck the sheet around. “Here, let me help you with—” “No, no, it’s always easier like this before you blow it up.” Harry steps into the corners of the room that aren’t completely swallowed up by the giant, deflated bed. He removes a paper lantern night light with constellation cutouts from its outlet, replacing it with the motor to the air mattress. “This part always takes a bit.” The small plastic box sputters into a whine and the mattress begins to inflate. “Just give it a few minutes… S’ old.” Soft whirring fills the room before he speaks over it. “We almost lost him on a trip to Brighton once—” he nods at Jojo, still in your hands— “Vi was inconsolable until we found him wedged between the bed and the wall in the hotel. Managed to convince her that leaving him at home—or at least only to Bridget’s on the first floor while I’m at work—was the best way to keep him safe.” He steals a glance at you and unfolds the massive quilt on top of the bed as it rises, before fluffing the pillow and tossing it to one of the long ends. “Then she started insisting on leaving him here on the weeks she spends at her mum’s.” “How come?” Harry’s smile is somewhere between pointedly self-deprecating and unbelievably loving. “Says she doesn’t want me to be lonely while she’s gone.” Before you can fully process all the ways your heart is both warmed and a little broken, Harry is disappearing into the hall again, returning with a throw blanket and fanning it out over the quilt. “Okay.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “That should do it. Do you want another pillow?” He turns to you suddenly, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “I have a couple more on my—” “No, no. This is more than enough… Thank you again, Harry,” You reassure him with the understanding that this is goodnight. Harry runs a hand through his hair and a little puff of dust is drawn out. “If you, um—If you need anything, I’ll be… my bedroom’s just there.” He twists around to point. “Don’t hesitate to like… yeah, wake me up if you need—if you feel… ” He laughs once at himself, exasperated. “Sorry, I’m tired.” You shake your head and smile sympathetically. “So am I.” “Goodnight, then.” Harry backs out into the hallway. He pauses in Sylvia’s doorway, his hand still on the doorknob. At that exact moment, the motor clicks off and the sudden silence feels unbearably loud. “I want you to feel safe here.” The room is so still that you see the shadow against Harry’s neck bob as he swallows in the yellow light of the hall. His eyes are steady and clear. You take a breath in, and nod. “I do,” you say, steadfast. “I promise… Goodnight, Harry.” He shuts the door behind him. • saturday, 5th january 12:46 am •

There had been a knock, of that much you are sure. One solitary rap jolts you from sleep, followed by the raucous succession of a dozen more as you sit up on the air mattress. It stops for a moment. Then starts up again. “Harry?” you whisper into the blackness, your heart suddenly pounding. In your groggy trance, you weren’t sure the first time you heard it if someone was knocking on the door to Sylvia’s room, but by the time your eyes adjust, you’re sure it’s coming from farther away. It stops. You’re still for a minute, careful not to rustle the quilt. There is no sound apart from a faint siren in the distance. You unplug your phone from where it charges beneath the nightlight, squinting at its bright little face. 12:46. Perhaps it’s a police officer? Surely they would have announced themselves, wouldn’t they? You slide down the mattress and creep up to the door, pressing an ear against the wood. There is nothing but the echo of your own blood rushing in your ear. You have to close your eyes and count to three before turning the doorknob. Harry is already in the hall, the door to his bedroom left gaping. He turns to you and immediately brings a finger to his lips. The sound of an open hand smacking against the front door is unmistakable. Harry inches towards the noise. He freezes suddenly, then twists to look at you, reaching his hand back with fingers outspread. Stay here. Harry rounds the corner out of sight until it becomes unbearable to stand there a moment longer. You tiptoe in his wake, and move at the same time he does. The only light in the flat spills from his open bedroom. Here in hall, the shadows are long and dark and Harry’s expression is harder to make out until he glances over his shoulder. He nods at you once before training his eyes on the door again. Your feet move of their own accord, as though they have unilaterally decided that the safest place for you is as close to Harry as possible. It seems jarring to you, that this man in a tee shirt and boxers is the same man who, not a week ago, seemed like a piece of art with his burgundy suit and damp curls; the memory of loose limbs and laughter clashes against the image of him fraught before you. Harry peers through the peephole. Your eyes are cemented to the back of his head and you begin to feel dizzy, only just realizing you’ve been holding your breath. He tenses. In a freezing rush of dread, you suddenly know exactly who is on the other side of that door. You know you shouldn’t panic. Harry raises a finger to his lips again in another soundless imperative and you know—from a place that feels somewhere outside your body—that the last thing you should be doing is opening your mouth. But this is a terror hurtling beyond fight or flight. Your primary functions are in a deadlock with a searing hysteria clamoring for you to scream, and something desperately carnal that believes you could only survive this moment if you were silent enough. Harry is still gesturing at you to keep quiet. He turns his back to the door and approaches you, the weight of his gaze keeping you motionless. He reaches forward and presses his palm firmly against your parted lips. All of a sudden you’re just as close as you were in the lift four nights ago when he tasted like brandy and the beginning of something new. The look he had given you on New Year’s was playful and wanting. In this moment, however, a pair of hard and urgent eyes bore into yours, igniting the pit of your stomach with a different kind of fear. Harry wraps his free hand around your wrist. You blink and blink. Beneath the steel resolve in his face, a desperate question forms: Do you trust me? You want to answer but you don’t know how. So you just keep staring. He pushes you backwards, gently, leading you around the corner and down the hall, his hand cupped to your mouth all the while. Even if you’d wanted to glance at the front door, Harry’s gaze is a magnet to your eyes. He walks you all the way into his bedroom, until you feel the mattress on the backs of your knees. You’d fall if not for Harry letting go of your wrist to guide you down with a hand on your waist. His lips move soundlessly around the words, stay here, and you manage to nod. Only then does he release your mouth. Your eyes can only focus on the closet door directly in front of you. It takes every ounce of your concentration to just keep breathing so you don’t pass out as Harry doubles back out into the hall, leaving you on the edge of his bed. You can feel an outbreak of sweat around your temple and on the back of your neck. You know you’re shaking but that feels distant, too. You have no idea how long Harry is gone, you just know he closes the door upon his return. You’re still trying to pace your breathing as he crouches down in front of you. He has his phone to his ear. You can only catch a few of his words at a time. “My name is Harry Styles… previously reported an, um, incident involving… yes… no… returned… knocked on the door. No, he’s gone now… I waited, to be sure. But I—” There’s a pause. “I think he’s knocking on every door on this floor.” You hear something like a choked gasp. Only when Harry’s eyes dart to yours do you realize it was you. You have put the entire building in danger. “Yes, she’s still here.” His free hand reaches up to your knee as he listens to the dispatcher, but he seems to think better of it at the last moment, worrying the edge of the duvet between his fingers instead. “Right, yes. I understand. I will. Thank you.” Faint ringing replaces the feeling of water in your ears. “They’re sending someone,” he murmurs after hanging up. “He’s gone.” You hear that broken gasp again. “He’s gone, I promise.” Your shoulders cave inward when you feel the full, painful heave of your sob. Tears stream down your cheeks as you cover your face. Harry’s hand lifts again. You shrink away and he immediately moves from you to stand. “I’ll be—” You seize at the first part of him you can reach, grasping a weak fistful of his soft cotton tee. Harry is completely still beneath your trembling fingers. He doesn’t pull away or move closer. He just hovers there, steady. “Please…” You want to ask him to stay. You want to ask for help. You want him to touch you so you know that you’re real—that you’re not in fact still trapped alone in the most terrifying part of a nightmare, but the words are unbearable. The sound of your name in Harry’s mouth undoes something inside you. Through your tears you finally lift your head to find his eyes. His expression seems torn, like he wants to comfort you but doesn’t know how. You’re not sure which one of you bridges the gap, but your forehead lands in the warm slope between his neck and shoulder and that seems to be all the confirmation Harry needs. His hands slide up your back to hold you as you all but collapse into him, crying with enough force that Harry draws you off the bed and onto the floor with him. He smooths one hand up and down the length of your spine as the other wraps so far around your back that you can feel his fingertips hooked over your hip. “S’ok,” he murmurs, his lips pressing into your temple like he intends to seal the words to your skin. Harry doesn’t try to shush you. “S’gonna be alright. ‘M here… I’ve got you. You’re safe… I’ve got you.” When your wracking sobs give way to hiccups and finally to something halfway controllable, he stops talking and just holds you, rocking ever so slightly in a sort of motion that only a parent can do. You have no idea how long you sit like that, a tangle of limbs and soaked collars and cheeks, until you’re finally able to speak. “I’m sorry,” you choke out. “You—” “None of that,” Harry says immediately. You feel his nose dig into your hair, his breath warm as he sighs. “I mean it, alright? No more apologizing for any of this. Might have to make you a jar like the one Annie has for me in her flat.” The thought is strange enough to pull you, however briefly, out of your current misery. “You have an apology jar?” He exhales sharply. “Swear jar, actually.” Your laugh bursts out unexpectedly, sort of wet and weak, but there nonetheless. You feel the soft stroke of his thumb on the back of your head. “That’s more like it.” You draw back and Harry’s grip tightens, just for a moment, before he releases you. He brushes your damp cheeks with the side of his palm before you can do it yourself. You see the same concentration he wore when he’d pinned that Remembrance Day poppy to your jacket. It takes effort to silence the instinct to be ashamed and keep his eyes. “They said it might be a bit before an officer can get up here,” he says, searching your face. “They’re puttin’ together a couple patrol teams to canvas the building and stay outside the rest of the night.” All you can think to do is nod. “Can I get you anything? Water?” “Please,” you reply, grateful. “I should—” you make a vague gesture at yourself— “clean myself up a bit.” Harry opens his mouth like he wants to comment, but just nods instead. You use his shoulder to push yourself to your feet; his hand covers yours and you feel his thumb running across your knuckles. You say, “Thank you,” but it’s not nearly enough. He squeezes gently, staring up at you and saying nothing. You walk on unsteady legs to the bathroom. You can feel his eyes on you even when you close the door. Lacing your fingers atop your head, you sigh at the tearstained, swollen-eyed version of yourself staring back at you in the mirror. After blowing your nose and splashing a few handfuls of water across your face, you join him on his side of the bed. His phone is in his hands. He finishes sending off a long, blue bubble of text before looking up and passing you a water from the nightstand. He runs the tip of his index finger around the rim of his own glass.

You bring the drink to your lips, then lower it immediately; the glass clacks against your teeth with the tremor of your hand. You can feel Harry’s eyes on you even though he doesn’t turn his head. Again, you try taking a sip with the same result and sigh. “I think I’m gonna try my parents again.” “Sure.” You set your water on the nightstand and head to Sylvia’s room, shutting the door behind you. You take a deep breath before collapsing back on the mattress. The stars rotating on the ceiling like a merry-go-round make you nauseous so you unplug the nightlight before dialing. Your mom answers after the first ring, emphasizing your name like a scolding. “Hi, Mom.” “What are you doing up? It’s the middle of the night in England. Is everything alright?” “That’s actually what I need to talk to you about.” You hardly get a sentence in before you hear her rushing to get your dad and the three of you have an hour-long, emotional crash-course on the last five hours of your life. There isn’t too much to fill in as you’ve kept them more or less updated on the blue-eyed man and your previous trips to the police department. You assure them that you’re in one piece and that you couldn’t have wound up with a more generous host, but that doesn’t assuage your mom from insisting on speaking with the police herself. She makes you promise to stay on the line until the authorities arrive. Before long, you hear a light rap on your door. “Yes?” Harry cracks it open without peeking his head inside. “Police are here—take your time. I’ll go out and speak with them.” “Thanks, Harry… Mom, some officers just arrived I think.” You pinch your phone between your cheek and shoulder, softly close the door behind you. “I’ll call you back once we’re done with everything.” You rush through a quick goodbye and meet Harry in the entryway. He’s thrown on some gym pants and a sweater and his arms are folded across his chest. The fully-uniformed men seem bulky and out of place in the sixth-floor hallway, as though they couldn’t squeeze in Harry’s modest apartment. It’s not like you’re the one in trouble, but your heart skips a little anyway. “… every floor of the building and searched the surrounding perimeter with no sign of anyone matching the description, and from the security footage we seized, we can see that he pulled out of the car park about forty-five minutes ago.” “Okay.” Harry nods, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Alright. Great.” The officer who had been speaking turns to you. “And you must be the young woman who—” “Yes.” You jerk your head quickly. It’s more like an anxious spasm than a nod. “That’s me.” “We were just filling your neighbor in that we were unable to find the culprit, but the building and surrounding area seem to be clear. If at all possible, we think it would be best for you to stay here just for the night, then come straight to the station in the morning to make a plan.” You simply nod again. “I will.” “You’re flat 8F, is that right?” “That’s correct.” “Were any of these marks on your door before this evening?” The officer pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, unlocking it to reveal the last few pictures in the camera roll. Your stomach drops. He flips through several photos of a long, black streak above the handle of your front door, and a sizable ding in the wood by the door jam. The impact was hard enough to scratch the paint. “No,” you manage. “I don’t recognize those. Did he, um…” “The door didn’t give,” the officer says. It’s just reassuring enough to keep your knees from buckling. He turns to face Harry again. “And you’re certain that the man showed no signs of knowledge that she—that the two of you were in this particular flat?” “Yeah. I watched him make his way down, knocking on a couple more doors.” “Was he stopping by every door?” Harry takes a moment to think. “No,” he replies. “It seemed a bit random if I’m honest.” “Right. Well, keep an eye out for any unusual activity in the next few days, especially on this floor. Don’t hesitate to let us know if anything changes.” The officer looks to you again. “In the meantime, we’ll see you at the station tomorrow?” “Yes, um… ” You clear your throat as your cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. Would one of you be willing to speak with my parents on the phone? They’re a bit worried and want to talk to a professional.” You hold up your cell. “Of course.” After dialing for him, you hand the officer your phone and he begins to engage your mom in what sounds like a very animated, reassuring dialogue. You and Harry are leaned against opposite walls in the hallway, spaced out in exhaustion. You cover a yawn with your hand and catch him doing the same. Do you dare check the time? Your hands absently pat your front and back pockets, and you frown in trying to recall where you’d last set your phone. You roll your eyes in glancing up at the officer pacing in the entryway on the phone with your mother. “S’ just gone two,” Harry mumbles. You make a light noise in the back of your throat. “I’m sorry, Harry.” “That’s a tenner in the apology jar.” You breathe a laugh without humor, shaking your head back and forth against the wall. “I just can’t wait for this day to be over,” you whisper. “Would you like to speak with her again?” The officer’s voice clips into your half-conscious conversation. You hold out your hand and tuck the phone between your cheek and shoulder again as Harry thanks the officers one last time before showing them out. Apparently satisfied with the conversation she’d had with the police, your mother circles back to the matter of your current state of limbo. “You’re sure you’re comfortable staying with this neighbor? Where are you sleeping?” You can practically hear the alarm bells from across the Atlantic. “It’s fine, Mom. We’re friends… sort of.” Friends that drunkenly make out in the lift. “He has a spare mattress. I’m staying in his guest room.” She digests this information in silence. “I’m alright, I promise. It’s just for tonight.” There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “I want you to call us, alright? No matter what time it is here or there, I want you to check in with us every day until we know for sure you’re absolutely safe.” “I will,” you vow. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? I’m exhausted.” “Right yes, go get some rest. We love you.” You swallow with a little difficulty. “Love you too.” Harry’s idling by the sink with your empty glasses. “Sorry about that,” you say, and then wince when he gives you a sidelong look. “They can be a bit protective.” He shakes his head, his expression somehow more grave than you were expecting. “I know exactly how they feel.” Harry rubs his eyes under his glasses. “I’m sorry,” he says into his palms. “I’m knackered.” “Yeah, of course… Get some sleep.” You hesitate. “You sure there’s not anything else I can get you?” “I’m sure.” He pinches softly just above your elbow. “See you in the morning.” Harry disappears into the hall. You listen to the sound of his bedroom door click shut before tilting your head to the ceiling and letting your eyelids close, literally twenty feet below your own apartment. You could probably throw a basketball higher than that. You sigh and look back down at your phone on the counter, quickly drafting a text to India and then deleting it. For a minute you stay like that, a statue in the pale light of Harry’s kitchen—the relic of a girl who woke up this morning unscathed. It’s probably for the best that you get some sleep tonight, but standing in front of the nursery with your hand on the doorknob, you can’t bring yourself to face the pitiful air mattress again. You turn to Harry’s bedroom door in defeat. Who on earth are you trying to fool? Heart hammering, you swallow your pride and crack open the door to Harry’s bedroom, stepping gingerly inside. It shuts behind you with a delayed click-click, impossibly loud. Nothing apart from blackness is visible before you, but suddenly comes the sound of a long breath in from somewhere in the room. Blankets rustle. Your fingers tighten on the doorknob behind you. With a tink, soft, yellow light spills over every surface in Harry’s bedroom. His nose scrunches and eyes squint. His hand flounders once against the nightstand before he locates his glasses, pushing them swiftly onto his face. Harry’s expression relaxes as he props himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. Your face stings with heat, but you hold your ground. His eyes are soft, careful, yet strangely unaffected. Without a word, or the slightest suggestion of ambivalence, Harry reaches out an arm to the opposite side of the mattress, and tosses the corner of the duvet halfway down the bed before meeting your gaze from across the room. It feels like a weakness, to cave and accept his offer. You want to explain yourself, suddenly, but there are no words for this time of night and the chasm you’re hanging over by your fingertips. So you approach the bed in silence and slide beneath his covers. Backs turned to each other, you curl up so far from Harry that your knees hang over the edge of the bed. You hear the cool sliding of blankets once more before absolute stillness. The last image of your day is the dim, golden glow of Harry’s lamp vanishing on the ceiling. • saturday, 5th january 4:07 am • It’s disorienting, adjusting to a room you can immediately tell isn’t your own, momentarily teetering between asleep and awake. It’s even more disorienting when you realize that you are not alone. There’s a knee between yours and a heavy arm slung over your waist. You’ve migrated to the center of the bed somehow during the night, flipped on your back. But what draws your attention the most is the warm breath in the curve of your neck. “Harry?” It was the asleep-half of your brain that had thought to croak his name. You don’t know what kind of reply you’re expecting to receive in this blue, small morning hour. Perhaps you won’t get one at all. Perhaps you’re dreaming. You stare up at the ceiling. If you close your eyes now, would you even remember this come dawn? But the grip around your waist tightens, just for a moment, before you feel his body slide up against yours, a sigh fanning over your cheek. “Yeah.” Harry’s voice is low and gravelly, but unmistakable. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest through the fine cotton of the shirt he’d loaned you, and he sounds surprisingly alert. A small silence lingers. “Alright?” Your eyes stay trained on the ceiling. Are you? Part of you wants him to clarify the question: are you alright after everything that happened tonight? Are you alright… with this? “Yeah,” you breathe. Harry doesn’t say anything else. For a moment you think he’s fallen back asleep but then he shifts closer to you. You watch as the shadow of his arm reaches over your body for your hand—you had left it open and maybe a little vulnerable beside your head on the pillow. You can feel the calluses on Harry’s fingertips as they slide up your palm and find the space between yours. You don’t dare turn your head because there is a question in your eyes that you realize you can no longer ignore, and you are afraid of his answer. So you close your fingers around his and do not speak. Harry exhales. You’re hyper aware of the way his body relaxes as he squeezes your hand. You take a deep breath. You know it’s no use wondering whether or not Harry is going to remember this in the morning. Even if this is a dream, you cannot deny that you’re warm and you’re safe and that you will remember, possibly forever, regardless of whatever happens or doesn’t happen between you. It’s a vaguely scary thought. You close your eyes.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction

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xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

Text

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter four: cham-pain

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

A/N: hey, you. yes, YOU. has anyone told you that you’re pretty today? well, if not let me be the first. i can’t help but feel lovey-dovey about the love you guys have shown me on this story. thank you so much for everything. i hope you like this chapter and i hope you’ll reach out and let me know either way. big shoutout to the baes @ladyartemesia and @taetaewonderland they know why.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

********************

At what point do you stop calling them shorts and start calling them panties?

That’s the question Hoseok ponders when he walks into the kitchen to find you precariously perched on tiptoes, straining to reach for something in an overhead cabinet. He lets his gaze linger over the soft skin of your legs, up to your thighs, up higher to where he can damned near see the swell of your ass peeking out from that obscene little scrap of cloth.

What he does next is probably unwise.

What he does next is approach silently from behind, pressing one hand into the small of your back as he reaches over you to get a hold of the jar you’re struggling to grab. And if he enjoys the way your body jolts with surprise beneath his fingertips or the way your hair smells when he’s this close, then that’s his business and no one else’s.

“Thank you,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes and for a moment Hoseok thinks you’re going to scold him for being so bold.

But you don’t.

*********************

Hoseok shouldn’t be toying with you right now and he knows it. It’s not like you’ve ever been an open book with him, but these past few days you’ve been even more withdrawn -- more in your head than ever before.

Not that you don’t have your reasons.

Shit is off the rails with your case and you’re living with a complete stranger and someone left a live fucking snake in your bedroom a few nights ago.

So if Hoseok has noticed that you walk around in a fog — that the fire he used to see inside of you from time to time seems extinguished — well, that’s certainly understandable.

But he can’t help but wonder if there’s something more to your melancholy. He can’t help but wonder if you actually hold a candle for that idiot you left reeling at the restaurant.

Hoseok can’t stop thinking about that guy.

There is a feeling he can’t shake and it’s not just the urge to beat Kang Donghyuk to a pulp. Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that beneath the dopey smile and the lazy charm and the overall benign affect, there’s something more.

Something Hoseok is determined to figure out.

So he leaves you to your cooking in the kitchen and retreats to the privacy of his room to phone Seokjin. If this piece of shit is up to something, Hoseok is going to make it his personal mission to find it.

And if he finds something?

Then Hoseok will make it his personal mission to make him pay.

***********************

YOU

“Amsaja -- with Hoseok. Try being nice.”

You think back to your brother’s words as you stand just outside the door to Hoseok’s room, fist raised to knock. But you don’t, at least not right away.

What is your fucking problem?

You remind yourself that you are a grown woman, not some skittish little girl. You remind yourself that Jung Hoseok is just a man.

And then you get a grip.

The door opens after one light knock. You don’t mean to stare, truly you don’t -- but Hoseok is wearing one of those goddamned tank tops again. What happened to suits all day and all night? Suits are a hell of a lot less distracting.

“What’s up?” he asks cautiously.

Your eyes dart from his face to his chest to his arms and finally settle around his neck, where a pair of dog tags hang from a silver chain. You had nearly forgotten that Jung Hoseok made a career of the military before he was one of your brother’s right-hand men.

“I made some Samgyetang,” you say lamely, gesturing to the bowl of soup in your hands.

I made it for you.

“And it’s uh, supposed to be good for a cold,” you add, when he says nothing.

Which you have.

“So, I -- ” you clear your throat, shift your weight back and forth on your feet, “ -- made some.”

For you.

Hoseok stares at the bowl like you’ve brought him a grenade instead of a meal. The puzzled look on his face makes you feel awkward, makes the entire gesture seem silly.

“Never mind,” you say under your breath, turning on your heels.

“Wait --” Hoseok calls quickly, stepping out of his room to follow you, “ -- I didn’t -- I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“It’s just soup,” you say over your shoulder, trying like hell to sound casual and not at all offended.

Hoseok keeps pace behind you into the kitchen; commands your attention with one firm hand on your arm. You turn to face him, averting your gaze from the sweatpants that hang low on his hips and the thin cotton that grips every muscle of his lean chest.

“I didn’t mean to make that weird,” Hoseok says quietly. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had homemade Samgyetang.”

You pull your arm out of his hold.

“Well, it’s there if you want it,” you shrug, brushing past him.

It’s a relief to trade the charged air of the kitchen for the uncomplicated quiet of your room.

*************************

Hyejin takes her reading glasses off to rub the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not even kidding about my eyesight being shot,” she sighs, reaching for her coffee cup. “It gets worse every day and the print on these depositions does not help.”

“I know,” you mumble, highlighter flying over your own set of fine print. “Sorry.”

“Hey, at least we’re in this together,” she smiles. “Right?”

Her face falls when you don’t return the gesture.

It’s not exactly a secret that you haven’t been firing on all cylinders lately. You are so worn out from the shit going on at work and the shit going on at home that it feels like you don’t have much more to give. You just want to climb into bed and sleep for a week straight.

If only you had that luxury.

Instead, you’re back at it with Hyejin today, trying to figure out a way around the missing digital evidence you so desperately need. The loss of those files was a terrible setback, but you refuse to let it be the end. You still have an entire warehouse full of confiscated guns under lock and key.

Now you just need to get your head in the game.

“You still going to the gala tomorrow night?” Hyejin asks, sipping her coffee.

So much for getting your head in the game.

“Not sure,” you murmur, underlining a key part of the testimony. “Lots of shit going on right now.”

“Yeah, I know things between you and Donghyuk got weird,” Hyejin says carefully.

You stop yourself from laughing out loud.

Donghyuk is so far down your list of fires to fight, you’d nearly forgotten him completely. You probably could forget him if you weren’t subjected to his dirty looks every time the two of you cross paths at the office. You’ve made at least two very awkward cups of coffee standing side-by-side in the past week alone -- but honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“That’s -- “ you start and stop before continuing, “ -- not really an issue right now.”

“Okay, sure,” Hyejin concedes. “Just don’t forget that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, alright? You don’t always have to take everything on by yourself.”

You stop your incessant highlighting to look up at your friend and colleague.

Concern is written all over her pretty face and for a moment you entertain the thought of opening up to her. The idea of talking about what’s going on is tempting -- like if you could share just a piece of your burden you could relieve some of the pressure inside of you. But there’s another part of you that worries that you are too pent up to let go of any of this. A part of you that feels like all it will take is one tiny crack for the entire dam to give.

You finally manage to muster one weak smile for your friend, who seems relieved to see any display of emotion out of you.

“Thanks, Hye. I’ll keep that in mind.”

***********************

You almost skipped tonight. Almost.

But you’d already bought a dress and the tickets were paid for and Hoseok didn’t even flinch when you told him you had to go to a black-tie event.

If only you could say the same for the moment you saw him in the living room.

When Hoseok turned at the sound of your heels on the marble floor, with hands tucked into the pockets of his bespoke black tux, you nearly forgot to breathe. All of the coordinating details, the slim-cut jacket and the perfectly-styled hair and the carefully-crafted bow tie felt like a gut punch.

You’d silently prayed that Hoseok didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered on him for just a beat too long -- or that he didn’t spot the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. The color that must have been made all the more obvious against the rose shade of your gown.

“You ready?”

Hoseok interrupts your thoughts with his usual business-like tone. The one that tells you that this inner monologue about how incredible he looks tonight is painfully one-sided.

You nod, not trusting yourself to use your words.

All things considered, the situation with Donghyuk couldn’t have gone south at a better time. He would have been your date for the night were it not for the blow up at dinner -- and it certainly would have drawn unwanted attention to have two men at your side all evening.

Though with the way Hoseok looks tonight, you imagine the attention will come anyway.

*********************

There are few things in life rich people enjoy more than pretending to give a shit about poor ones.

They make sport of it, jockeying for position in front of the cameras, gladly shelling out hundreds of thousands of won a plate to prove just how much they care. They spend their evenings drinking top-shelf liquor and eating top-notch catering and convincing themselves that they’re making some kind of sacrifice for the greater good.

A string quartet plays softly in the background as guests mill about, grabbing drinks and hors d'oeuvres off of passing trays. Hoseok is at your side, a glass of water in hand. He is just close enough for you to take in his heady, masculine smell -- but not too close.

You hate that he smells this good.

You hate that he looks this good.

You have tried -- and failed -- to ignore the appreciative stares he’s gotten from some of the gala guests. You already caught one woman ogling outright, gawking unrepentantly while at her own date’s side. When a cocktail server walks by with a carefully-balanced offering of champagne flutes, you grab one right away.

Hoseok, as usual, takes nothing.

You sip your champagne and watch him watching the room.

He certainly looks the part of a society player tonight in his tux, the occasional wrinkle of his nose the only indicator of his disdain for the men and women drinking and dancing around him. When a woman bumps into him while carrying a plate of appetizers, he holds out a hand to help her keep upright and she damned near melts at his reassuring smile.

“Oh, thank you,” she breathes deeply before her eyes dart in your direction.

You look away.

Not once have you ever seen this man smile, and he’s certainly never smiled at you. You turn to slam the rest of your champagne and put the empty flute on a nearby table just as another cocktail server passes with a full tray of drinks.

How fortuitous. You grab another.

There’s a few more minutes of mingling before the guests are asked to take a seat at their assigned tables. Hoseok holds out your chair and you accept.

The interaction, like always, is silent.

You look up from the perfectly staged spread to spot Donghyuk two tables away. Even from a distance you can tell his cheeks look ruddy — like he’s already had way too much to drink. He narrows his eyes when he realizes you are looking and you lift your champagne flute to tip a sarcastic salute in his direction. He scowls back.

“Miss Kim,” a deep voice interrupts your petty exchange. “What a pleasant coincidence.”

You force a smile when your boss and his wife unexpectedly fill two empty seats at your table.

“Mr. Park,” you return quietly. “Nice to see you tonight. And Mrs. Park, of course.”

Mrs. Park’s answering smile is warm and genuine, but the same cannot be said of her husband’s. Of course, the last conversation you had with him one-on-one, he’d practically thrown you out of his office. The smile on his face right now is a bit watery.

“It’s so nice to see you dear,” Mrs. Park says sweetly. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

You falter when you open your mouth to answer, but Hoseok smoothly interjects.

“Yi Sang, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

You close your mouth and turn to smile woodenly at Hoseok, who doesn’t bother to look back.

“Mr. Yi,” your boss extends his hand for a firm handshake, but a strange look passes over his face. “The pleasure is ours.”

Hoseok’s mouth pulls into a tight smile and you down what’s left of your champagne.

A couple you don’t recognize join your table before dinner is served. You do your best to appear engaged in the small talk; nodding when appropriate, smiling during the awkward pauses. But there is an emptiness in you tonight. You spend the entire meal pushing the artfully-arranged dishes around your plate because you find you have no desire for food.

The same cannot be said for the champagne, though. That’s going down quite nicely. Your server dutifully brings another flute as soon as yours is empty.

“I must commend you, Miss Kim, on forging ahead with this case,” Mr. Park says, when the plates have been cleared and after-dinner coffee is being served. “I know it hasn’t been easy after the theft of your files.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Yes, well -- I’m doing my best with what I have left.”

“Of course. It’s important we do what we can to bring these low-lives to justice,” Mr. Kim says slowly. He looks from you to Hoseok with an expression that stops just short of a challenge and the champagne in your stomach seems to come to life. “Organized crime in this city is out of hand. We can’t allow Seoul to descend into chaos because of the trash making a living off of guns and drugs.”

Trash like your brother.

“Right,” you say quietly, swallowing past a lump in your throat. “I’ll do my best.”

Hoseok remains composed at your side, but you don’t miss how his knuckles go white as his grip around the water glass tightens.

Trash like Hoseok.

You swallow another mouthful of champagne.

The couple sitting next to the Parks -- oblivious to the friction at the table -- strike up a conversation about the dessert selection and you’ve never been more glad for small talk. The tension in the air slowly dissipates.

But you keep drinking.

Hoseok leans into you, lips so close they nearly brush the shell of your ear and your entire body goes still. Goosebumps bloom all over when you feel his breath against your skin.

“You should eat something,” he murmurs.

You could almost laugh at the way your stomach seems to fall with disappointment. What were you expecting him to say? Something complimentary? Something reassuring?

What a joke.

All at once you decide you need space, you need air, you need a break from the bullshit you seem to be taking from all sides tonight.

Hoseok’s eyebrows lift as you stand from your seat.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you announce to the table, “I need to visit the powder room.”

The champagne seems to hit you the moment you stand and you have to work hard at keeping your steps steady as you make your way out of the ballroom.

You would never admit it, but Hoseok is right.

You really should eat something.

***********************

hoseok: text me or i’m coming in [11:02 PM ]

You stand in the mirror and stare at your reflection in the dim lighting of the ladies’ room. You’ve been to dozens of these events over the years and it’s never felt as pointless and unnatural to you as it does right now. A part of you hates how much you’ve tied yourself into knots seeking the validation of these pompous assholes. So desperate to be chosen by the chosen few.

hoseok: last chance [11:06 PM ]

Another part of you hates Hoseok.

You hate his constant presence and his constant silence and his constant judgement. It always feels like he’s punishing you for some transgression you don’t even know you’ve committed. Your phone buzzes with a reminder of the waiting texts and you sigh, unlocking the screen to fire off an answer before Hoseok makes good on his threat to storm his way in.

you: i’m fine. be right out [ 11:08 PM ]

You take one last look in the mirror. Have you always looked this tired?

Before dinner -- after you’d meticulously primped for tonight -- you’d been satisfied with what you saw in the mirror. Now all you can see are the shadows under your eyes, the grim set of your mouth. Is this what other people see when they look at you, too?

A knock sounds on the door and you blow out an exasperated breath. Hoseok must be tired of waiting for you to wrap this pity party. You yank the door open with more force than intended, fully prepared to tell him to fuck off.

But it’s Donghyuk on the other side.

You stare at him.

“What do you want?” you hiss, stepping out into the hallway.

“I just want to talk,” Donghyuk says coolly, standing just a bit too close. You grimace at the smell of liquor on his breath. “You still haven’t given me a chance to thank you personally for making me look like an asshole at dinner the other day.”

“Oh, honey -- you don’t need my help to look like an asshole,” you fire back, pushing more space in between you with a firm shove of your fingers to his shoulder. “You do a fine job of that all on your own.”

His laughter blows whiskey-tinged hot air in your direction and you make a face.

“I see you upgraded the bodyguard to dinner date.”

“Shut up, Donghyuk, honestly,” you seethe. You try to step around him to leave, but he blocks you with his body.

“You fucking him now, too?”

You barely register the movement of your own hand before it’s connecting with the side of Donghyuk’s face. You barely register Hoseok’s arrival before he’s between you both, pulling you away and practically shoving Donghyuk to the floor. You barely hear Hoseok’s whispered threats and you nearly miss the way he unbuttons his jacket to ensure Donghyuk sees his gun.

The whole debacle is so fast and so surreal you could almost convince yourself you imagined it.

But there is no imagining the sting still throbbing in your palm.

*****************************

HOSEOK

The trouble tonight started long before you smacked the shit out of Kang Donghyuk.

The trouble started when you walked out of your room in that goddamned gown. Hoseok had not been entirely prepared for you in that dress.

He had only a split second to make sure he wasn’t staring. He jammed his hands into his pockets and forced the most casual demeanor he could muster, but fuck it wasn’t easy. There were a hundred things he could have said in that moment, would have said in that moment -- if you weren’t you and if he weren’t him.

Of course, dinner was a bit of a clusterfuck, too.

Playing dress up with the city’s elites was somehow less enjoyable than Hoseok imagined it would be. The stares from tipsy society girls and the critical looks from their dates were bad enough but your boss laying it on thick with the white knight bullshit at the end was the real icing on the cake. The coded language and the veiled threats that made loud and clear he knew exactly what Hoseok was but wouldn’t say it out loud.

Hoseok saw the way you seemed to retreat even further into yourself during the exchange, silent and thinking.

And drinking.

Hoseok has only ever seen you enjoy the occasional glass of wine with meals. Tonight was an entirely different story. You were on a mission to get wrecked from the moment you sat down; forgoing food for an alarming amount of champagne. Hoseok counted four glasses down before he decided to say something.

Of course, that went over about as well as he’d expected -- and seconds later, you were walking away.

Hoseok hadn’t planned on following you to the bathroom. He hadn’t planned on overhearing the nasty back-and-forth in the hall . And he hadn’t planned on threatening to kill Kang Donghyuk at some ridiculous charity dinner. But when he saw the man get up from his seat to follow you -- Hoseok moved on auto-pilot.

There was no avoiding what came next.

**********************

You don’t utter a single word on the ride home.

You don’t say a word when Hoseok walks you upstairs, unlocks the door to usher you inside. He’s still securing the new deadbolts when he hears your bedroom door slam shut.

Hoseok scrubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply before loosening the bow tie and slipping it off.

Then he pulls out his phone to text Seokjin.

hoseok: you on him? [ 11:48 PM ]

seokjin: sleeping it off in his car right now. what a slob [ 11:49 PM ]

seokjin: you’re welcome btw [ 11:49 PM ]

hoseok: thx [ 11:50 PM ]

Seconds later, your bedroom door swings open so hard it bounces back off the opposite wall. Hoseok looks up from his phone just as you are storming into the living room, hands still securing the belt to the short robe you’ve just changed into.

You are positively vibrating with a dangerous energy Hoseok can feel clear across the room. Maybe you’ve been sleepwalking through these past few days, but you are definitely awake now.

And angry.

“I don’t need you to win my fights,” you fume, pointing one hostile finger in his direction. “I took care of myself long before you came along and I can take care of myself now.”

Christ, do you have any idea how little you are wearing right now?

Hoseok focuses on that accusing finger because it keeps him from staring at your legs. It also keeps him from opening his mouth and making you madder than you already are.

“I don’t need you or anyone else swooping in with that macho bullshit,” you hiss, bringing your body within inches of his. “I have had enough of men running and ruining every aspect of my life.”

Shit, do you have any idea how close you are right now?

Hoseok can smell the perfume that lingers on your skin when you’re this close. He can see how your pupils are blown wide and your cheeks are flushed with heat when you’re this close.

“Say something,” you demand, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Do something.”

Fuck, you are playing with fire.

You want a fight and Hoseok is this close to giving you one. He has to summon every ounce of his self control to keep his voice and breathing steady. He fists his hands at his sides to keep them from moving.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” he replies with careful calm. “You should go to bed.”

“Or what?” you challenge, fingers reaching to unfasten the top buttons of his dress shirt. Hoseok’s entire body tenses under your touch.

“What the hell are you doing?” he says between gritted teeth.

“Checking for a heartbeat,” you murmur. “Looking for signs of life. Is there a real man in there?”

There’s a real man in here, alright, Hoseok thinks darkly. Keep pushing me and you’re going to find out.

“Of course not,” you whisper to yourself, snaking one hand into the collar of his shirt. He flinches when your fingertips brush up against the cool metal of his dog tags. “You’re some kind of robot.”

You pull the tags out from under his collar and Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just a machine programmed to follow orders, right? My brother’s orders. The Army’s orders,” you pause to read the embossed letters on his tags. ‘Isn’t that right, Captain Jung?”

You gasp when Hoseok’s hand comes up to seize yours. His fingers circle the delicate bones of your wrist and he doesn’t let go, applying a pressure that sure as hell gets your attention.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to,” Hoseok seethes. “People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties. People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

Your stare at him for a moment, eyes wide at his outburst. Then you jerk your wrist out of his hold so violently you nearly fall back with the force of it.

Hoseok freezes when your robe slides down off your shoulder. He stares when his eyes settle on the jagged scar that runs deep across your collarbone.

Fucking hell.

Hoseok traded one bloody business for another when he gave up his rank in the Army for his rank in the Gajog. He’s seen more than his fair share of vicious cuts and nasty wounds.

Whoever did that to you wanted to make sure you’d have to carry it with you for the rest of your life.

********************

Tomorrow morning, Hoseok is gonna regret a lot of shit that happened tonight.

He’s going to regret not telling you how beautiful you looked when you walked out of that room. He’s going to regret going out of his way to hurt you with his words.

But most of all, he’s going to regret the moment he looked into your face and saw the anger in your eyes change over into pain.

You yank the robe back over your shoulder, cinch the belt tight — and walk away without another word.

********************

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closer-stars · 4 years ago

Text

Heart of Depth (4)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: ~5k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. some history, some typical genshin shenanigans. Mild Violence. Mentions of death Note: Surprise lol. I’ve been working on this fic at the same time as gut feeling hence the speedy posting, part 5 to be posted soon. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 3

Yeosang’s friend, Hongjoong, arrives at your shop today. He waits for you and Wooyoung patiently by the door. Well, you assume it’s Hongjoong based on his mannerisms. He didn’t seem like the men Wooyoung had to fight the night before. The two of you approach your shop carefully: the grip you have on your keys were tight, Wooyoung’s stance was low enough to not get weird glances but low enough to give him enough force to jump should it not be him.

The male notices the two of you and greets you politely. “Hello, I’m Kim Hongjoong, Kang told me about your need for assistance.” The introduction puts your guards down. You remember Yeosang’s description of the male, around Wooyoung’s height, eyes that seem inquisitive, with wavy hair that seem to frame his face. If none of these events had happened, you would’ve assumed he was a model with how he carried himself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduce yourself and Wooyoung, as you open the shop for the day. Not even a few minutes after, people start pouring into your shop-- some of them with obvious relief on their features. They speak of their worries of the shop having closed down or you and Wooyoung not doing alright. All of which are shut down with reassurances. As the three of you go about with the orders and other needed rituals, you teach Hongjoong the ins and outs of your shop, what to press to make certain types of coffee, how to make foamed milk and so on. “Oh and if you want to create any dishes, feel free to do so. Some of Wooyoung’s creations are on the menu as well.”

Throughout the day, the three of you try to get to know each other more, even asking Hongjoong for tidbits about who Yeosang and San really are and who he really is. He answers simply about himself, a Dendro holder, whose blood is similar to that of San’s. “So how old are you?” Wooyoung asks.

“Younger than San, older than you.” It was a simple answer but enough to give the two of you an idea of how long he has walked the earth. It also explains his oddly shaped pupils but perhaps a detailed rundown of his lineage is for another day.

Wooyoung returns to where the two of you are, just in time to get the gist of the conversation as you guide Hongjoong through making an iced macchiato. “Yeah and most of the earnings made from those dishes go to you.” He eggs the other male on with a cheeky grin on his face. Hongjoong, catching onto his antics, releases a light laugh after having made enough milk foam for the order.

“I’ll consider that.” You let Hongjoong pour the order into a plastic cup for the customer. You don’t miss the lingering gazes from the women as well. Maybe having an attractive barista could help with the sales.

--------

You were back running business as usual. Only since that incident, you had to start closing a little earlier than usual. You had to write on your small board that you’ll only be able to be open until 5PM every day for the next few weeks due to personal reasons. Wooyoung spends the rest of the day in the studio, though he gets creative with the journey there-- using various train lines, or even walking through different streets just to make sure he doesn’t become predictable from the Abyss. He was more worried for you though. Hongjoong as well, walks with you usually: either walking the two of you to your apartment or elsewhere, just for safety. It was part of the agreement after all.

For today the shop has to close early, at least he can be reassured that you’ll be safe with Yeosang for tonight. “Damn, you really dressed up for tonight huh?” Wooyoung muses as he leans against the counter. Hongjoong lingers around Wooyoung’s side. For the entire day, Wooyoung gave the older male a rundown of your relationship with Yeosang-- at least the parts you forgot to add, which generally was the romantic aspect.

To be fair, you did put a little more effort today hoping that Wooyoung wouldn’t notice unless you wanted to be teased. Your blouse, though it can be easily wrinkled, hangs on your body well. It’s also one of your favorites simply for how it feels cool to the touch. You were wearing slacks as well, not your usuals for comfort and practicality but today, knowing Yeosang’s preferences when it comes to dates, it was better to just dress up. “Shush.” You chide him, wrinkling your nose at his teasings. “I know he’s seen me in just shorts or joggers when I’m working but considering it’s a date…” Until now, whenever you say that you’re going on a date with him, your heart beats a little faster. “I figured I might as well... “

The mischievous glint in Wooyoung’s eyes softens just a bit as he snickers at how flustered you look. “Don’t worry about it too much, the two of you have really good dynamics. Guess you could say there’s a spark” He rests against his elbows this time. The pun doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong. “Have you even seen how he looks at you? That guy’s really smitten.” There was also a hint of curiosity behind the soft gaze Yeosang carries for you. He wonders what it is, but if there’s anything being an electro user tells him, it’s patience. “Besides, your shop has garnered a bunch of loyal customers now. They don’t mind the early close especially for personal reasons. At least have fun tonight.”

You look at the clock. It won’t be long until he picks you up from the shop then. “You already know how to lock up this place right?” It won’t be long either until Wooyoung has to head to the studio.

“Of course. The keys are with me and the extra set of keys are at home.” He rolls his eyes in jest at your concern. “Do you have Regalia with you?” He returns.

Regalia’s the name of the bracelet you’ve been wearing since day one of living with Wooyoung’s family. One of the last few things you’ve kept from your family that he’s aware of. He doesn’t usually mind you not wearing it during work but with the recent events, you can only assume this is for your peace of mind. “Yup.” You raise your wrist to his view, and he sees the cool toned beads adorn and accentuate the silver charm that rests just above where your pulse is.

Your vision was peaking under your top, just by your waist, not wanting to bring too much attention to your capabilities but still wanting to stay on the safe side. Underneath the calm facade, lies the same person who’s still wary of everything since then. A figure catches his eye by the door. It’s Yeosang, this time wearing a cream blazer under a simple printed white shirt and dark gray pants and ankle boots. He always manages to make you feel a tad bit underdressed with his fashion sense. You envy Wooyoung’s nonchalance to the fashion differences, then again, Wooyoung’s been confident in his own style. That’s what got him to where he is now.

Just as you were about to ask Wooyoung a question, he beats you to it. “Yes, you look fine. Now go and have your date.” He shooes you off with a wave of his hand. You shoot him a look of mild annoyance for his ability to see through your facade. So with that done, you grab your things on top of the counter and wave him goodbye.

“Call me when something comes up okay?”

He says nothing but shoots you an okay sign, making sure you focus on the man who’s been waiting for you like a lovesick puppy by the door.

Just as you step out of the shop, you’re greeted by a warm smile from him. It’s interesting how that smile made him look younger when he’s already thousands of years older than you. It just comes with the whole Archon responsibility, you suppose. As you approach him, he hands you a bouquet of various flowers-- peeking above the flowers, you see his cheeks bloom into an endearing pink.

“Yeosang what’s this for?” You ask, the wrapped flowers in your hands has you dumbfounded. You weren’t sure if it was a double peonies but you’ve definitely seen this before somehow. You knew that this was a rarity but how he managed to acquire them at the height of their beauty at this time of the year was a feat for you. “What is this?” A white flower, not yet in full bloom, is surrounded by simple greens and hyacinths. You gaze at them for a moment, before returning your gaze to the man in front of you.

The tips of his ears shine bright pink, a stark contrast to his black-blue hair. “I thought you might appreciate another type of flower to be in your shop.” You can’t turn down this gift. Double peonies have been something you would usually see online. To know that these are real ones and they’re in your hands, it was truly an experience. “Neve Jewel.” He answers your question softly

You look at him for a moment, shocked at how he got this flower for you. “How often should I water them?” You ask as you try to look for a vase or a spare pot that you would plant them in for the time being in your shop. You’d love to bring home a sapling of this down the line.

“Every three days.” He says after clearing his throat. If he didn’t, he would’ve stuttered through the tip. The look of pure glee in your eyes made him think that getting you the flowers was a good decision, at least it was good enough to make his chest feel warm. As you look through the pots in your shop, you realize there’s no space for them: looks like you’ll have to carry them for the entirety of the date.

He offers you the crook of his arm, for you to hold onto for the rest of the date. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask as you gently hold onto his arm as he offered. The night was still young and there was so much they could do and for all you know he might pull more surprises.

“Well, for starters, you have the freedom to choose what we eat tonight. I figure it’s only fair to let you choose this time as it was my choice last time.” That’s right, you remember the last restaurant being expensive and him being able to pay with ease. A small part of you wonders if he could cover your further studies or help with the studio Wooyoung also works in.

The power to choose makes you hum in thought. Truthfully the decisions were countless. “How about pizza and pasta? I know a place you might like.” A short pause. “Well, we can look at the menu and see if you like it, if not we go elsewhere.” You offer.

You hate to admit that ever since knowing Yeosang’s the Archon, you started seeing him in a slightly different light. Maybe it’s your insecurities? Wondering who else did he love before you. Was it your jealousy? Wanting to know what he knows about this world and perhaps beyond-- along with his financial security. It can’t be helped, there have been times where you gave up something you eyed for more important things. Living on your own isn’t easy but at least you work at your own pace.

“Something on your mind?” Yeosang asks softly. He doesn’t want anyone listening in on them as he starts noticing fleeting glances at either you or him. It didn’t take much for him to know that your thoughts were running again. Your hand felt loose in his arm, and your footsteps felt like they were floating. It was funny to him how you reminded him of them yet still be your own person.

“Ah?” You hummed, blinking a few times to get back to reality. “Nothing too pressing, just curiosity over how life has been for you since Day 1.” You admit. You know of their existence: of Archons that bestow these visions, of beings that are half human, half something, or even not entirely human that walk with you. To be in their presence though, is another topic entirely. “Along with the chances of meeting the likes of your kind.”

He flashes a small smile at your honesty. “I see. All of which are understandable thoughts. I suppose I can tell you a few stories over dinner.” He promises. There’s something comforting in how he carries no hint of resentment, but it leads to more curiosity of what he has buried in all these years. “If time still permits today, I’ll show you some places that hold significance to me that people nowadays do not know of.”

“You say a lot of promises, Yeosang.” You note teasingly. As you do so, you gesture to the restaurant that you had set your eyes (and stomach) on. “Check out their menu first?”

He looks at the restaurant and chuckles. “My dear, San always pesters me about this place. I don’t eat here as often as he does but trust me, I have no issues with tonight’s choice.” He would come here often for San’s favorite especially after a long night of dealing with awry beings that try to wreck havoc. It’s enough to get him through a few hours until he crashes.

His words reassure you and thus, the two of you enter the premises, finding comfort in a booth, away from any eyes that could wander. After the orders have been made, you were left alone with him once more. From your place, you could watch people walk past the restaurant on one side, while the cars zoom past on the other. Yeosang lets you look around for a moment before he starts telling you some of his stories. “So which one would you like to know about?”

He answers your questions to the best of his ability. Yes, even if people try to recreate the food from the past, it’s still not the same, not even with the same ingredients, things just naturally changes over time and he has come to accept that. His current favorite is fried chicken though, even better if it’s the half-half type. He tells you about a plot of raised land on the other side of the river. You weren’t aware of this story: how that was initially something like a mountain only for him to flatten it with the force of water after an immortal being thought they were greater than the heavens that made them. He admits that the immortal was a dear friend of his who had changed as time passed them by. A god of earthquakes, he tells you. “So with that in mind, it’s impossible to fully wipe out any archon or immortal being.” Your inquisitive and sharp mind warms his heart. Humanity’s curiosity is their greatest downfall. Yet, this is what pushes beings like him to protect you and your kind. It’s what has kept your species going.

“Yes and no. This dear friend of mine, he can’t..” he trails off as he tries to find the right word, tilting his head in thought. “His material body cannot come back but his essence lives on. It explains the tremors we feel occasionally.” Some gods are forgotten as well, buried deep in the oceans he rules in where only the darkest parts of humanity’s consciousness can only remember. Yet from time to time, occurrences happen that tell him that there are people that still remember. Fortunately, before the discussion gets any depressing, the food arrives and he takes this chance to know more about you and anything you’re curious about with these flowers that rest on your lap.

He asks you about the latest social networking apps, he has the basics of where most people are but the other apps that entertain certain niches intrigue him. Though you didn’t have all the answers, he was sure he’d leave this restaurant knowing more than before. He finds out that your passion for baking and making different types of coffee came after you saw Wooyoung struggle juggling his dance team and studies. The daily expenses of buying coffee eventually build up over time so you take matters into your own hands. Now, you’ve got a shop up and running and the rest is pretty much history. He respects you for that. The Archon also realizes that perhaps San was right with this restaurant. Another restaurant to add to his options in the days to come.

The rest of the dinner goes well, lasting for two hours before the two of you decide to leave and walk around somewhere quiet. Somewhere that the two of you could get away from the constant bustle of modern life.

The walk to the quieter side of the city was a fruitful one. The conversation between the two of you never stops as each of you try to understand each other-- especially with you trying to understand his roots along with his riches. “So, you being.. An archon.. Is that how you were able to get that apartment?” You understand that he’s not quite immortal, having the ability to die as well but he does have the ability to live longer than most. You learned that gods can die, but deaths caused by humans have resulted in violent natural happenings.

“Yes and no.” He answers with a slight tilt of his lips. “Some of the objects from the historical collection are mine but I had to pull some legal strings to make the public think it’s from someone else, and for the stockholders to continue funding the museum. Some of them have been bought and sold through me to older gods and Archons who have passed on, some archaic family clans as well and so on.” He hints towards other groups with money that have helped fund his museum and keep them safe, though through less than morally ethical means. Simply put, the museum has helped him amass a big fortune with one part going to his anonymous safety for reasons and the other parts going to other necessities of the community around him.

Something stirs in you to explain something to him. “I suppose I owe you a story as well.” You admit softly. You start to tell him about your family life, how you grew up in a family that was passionate about their jobs: your father, a historian while your mother was a fairly known ceramist who also had a passion for what your father pursued. It’s through the attempts of recreating the pottery of the past that made their names fairly well known in those days-- also making you have a keen interest and skill in the history and the arts. Your father came across certain writings, unfamiliar to the academe but familiar to those who were interested in the taboo. He and your mother got too close, from what you understood. The pursuit of making connections and knowledge cost them their life. They made sure you were safe from everything, keeping you hidden from the perpetrators.

Wooyoung’s parents were close to yours, it took forever in a child's mind before they found you, hiding in a closet with the Regalia in your small hands. Once they found you, they made sure you didn’t see the aftermath. Their urns rest in a quiet columbarium out of town. Since then, you grew up with Wooyoung’s family. It’s not the same as having your actual parents grow with you but they did their best to step into their roles for you and for Wooyoung. “It’s been years, and I’ve learned to cope with the absence so please, don’t worry about me.” You reassure him. You’ve been so accustomed, so annoyed with the looks of pity given to you by others who know this story-- which are usually by word of mouth.

He lets his eyes wander around the scenery in front of him. The way the lights bounce against the water, the quiet hum of people milling about by the water. His eyes catch sight of a small family letting their kids play about by the water. The way you talk about your family makes him wonder how you were like when you were younger. The you he knows now is different from the you Wooyoung has known since he was a child. You don’t step into the same river but water always passes where it came from. Simply put, you are still you. Heavens be damned, because he’s enamored by you.

As you tell your stories, your eyes catch a glimpse of the same family. There’s something in your chest that twists that you cast your eyes downward. The flowers were still in your arms, you didn’t want to leave it in the stale air of the car.

He sees you look down at the flowers, your fingers fiddling with the wrapping and some of the petals. “Feel free to ask questions about them, my dear.”

Giving you that green light to ask immediately had you talking. “Okay, first question, How? I thought this didn’t exist anymore?” You remember the first dinner you had with him, how he bought a painting of the said flower and told you how rare it was. So how did he manage to get an actual one?

He finds a bench, away from people that were there for perhaps the same reasons as the two of you. He pats the spot next to him for you to sit down as well to which you oblige. Once you do so, he looks up at the sky, seeing the faint shimmers of the stars above. The waters will continue to move to a near unrecognizable state yet the stars no matter how much they move, they still look the same. The man next to you tries to figure out his words, but eventually he just decides to say it plainly. “I had the same thoughts as you, about its existence. San was the one who notified me of its reemergence. He found it growing in the museum’s garden, in full bloom every night.”

You stare at the lone blooming flower in your hands, wondering if there’s more in the garden, but one question suddenly nags at you. “Why did you give it to me when you’re heavily attached to this flower?” You were flattered, you can’t deny that-- a rare flower from someone who has been fluttering your heart? That was a unique way to be courted Yet, the lapse in thought bothers you, a rare flower that he obviously holds dear to him, given to you? What made him think of this?

“They were someone dear to me as well.” He starts. His voice takes on a more sober tone, making sure you were comfortable leaning on his shoulder. “A dear immortal as well, just like San and I.” It takes a few moments of silence for you to understand the gravity of their relationship. “They were someone well loved by the people, taught them how to handle resources on an economic point of view with other regions, taught them handiwork beyond that of warfare, a lot of things that were out of my field to put it simply..” He has already accepted and forgiven himself of his shortcomings to become someone like them at that time. “Their favorite flower is this, my love.” He says, his fingers fiddle with the edge of its wrapper. “Everyone associated it with them.” Despite the harsh cold that ice gives, it was also a time for trust. When it was too cold, they’d make shelter out of ice and various twigs and fur. If it was too hot, they provided them with cool winds. It’s why the Neve Jewel glows as such, depending on the season.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t protect them at their time of death.” His eyes stay still at the river that quietly flows past them. “Their last wish to me was to make sure the people survive the journey. Weird isn’t it? The god of water protecting the followers of Ice.” He rests his temple against yours. “Eventually after their passing, Neve Jewels ceased to exist. Until you came along.”

“Yeosang?”

“Mm?”

“What if I’m not them?”

“Yeosang, you know you need to be prepared to accept the fact they might not be your previous lover.”

It’s a question he’s considered since he met you. He admits, it wasn’t easy to consider accepting that you might not return. He remembers the concern in San’s face when he was still so hopeful.

“Of course, grief never leaves you. It always stays with you, you eventually learn how to live with it.” He tips his head in thought, acknowledging the weight of the concern.

You didn’t want to cry here: not when the date was going so well. A soft chuckle leaves your lips to loosen up the tight feeling in your chest. “Mhm, I guess so.” It’s a half hearted answer you have to admit but it was better than letting the silence cue the tears.

“But if you let me, I’ll still love you the same.”

A deep breath loosens the pulsating pain in your head from the unshed tears. “I guess life does work weirdly.” You add under your breath, leaning against his shoulder as you fiddle with the wrapping of the gifted flower.

He readjusts himself to make sure you don’t get uncomfortable. There’s something in your words that tells him, it would be better to shift the topic. “I’m a little disheartened that i never got to tour you around the museum but that’s alright, one of these days, I’ll bring you around, show you my favorite works and tell you some stories behind them.”

“I’d like that, sounds like you got a lot you’d like to share too.” You muse softly, taking in the scent of nature and him.

“I catch you lingering by the entrance sometimes.” Even though he has invited you and Wooyoung to stay in the museum’s offices with him for the sake of safety, you’d just linger by the souvenirs. You remember Wooyoung proposing the idea of having a small shop next to the souvenirs, but you shot it down. It’s not because you don’t think it’ll do well but because who else will manage the shop? Hongjoong’s a good candidate but until you’re certain he’ll stay after this mess.

With how everything is going, you wonder if he finds time to rest. “Please, you’ve got a lot on your plate. I’d rather not add to that, Yeosang.” You say with a breathy laugh of embarrassment.

“You know that I don’t mind your presence.” He’s been spending his hours with you after work for the past few months. “I wouldn’t have asked you on a date, if I did mind.” He tilts your chin gently to look at him.

His eyes, holy shit, you could drown in how they look: shades of blue with hints of green and streaks of white. The ocean resides in this man and you’d be damned if you didn’t feel yourself melt in his touch. “If it still isn’t obvious, my dear, I would like to ask you, if you are willing to be my lover?”

Something flashes at the corner of your eye, and it’s coming straight at you.

#my writings #yeosang fanfic #yeosang series #ateez series #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez au #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #imagine this part with the previous part #too much would have happened in one chapter and i didn't want that

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

Text

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 3

Title: A Different Type of High (part three)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: mostly fluff, but there is some angst

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, talks of depression and suicide (but not for a sentence), mentions of overdose, (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, please let me know!)

Word Count: 6,148

Summary: Spencer keeps his promise and takes Reader to get coffee before NA. While at the coffee shop, Reader meets one of Spencer’s co-workers and finds out who he actually works for.

A/N: i don’t have much to say other than… i don’t know if it actually snows in quantico virginia or dc. everywhere i’ve looked told me yes and told me no.. so i just made it snow. so if im wrong about that sorry o.o and, this one mentions the episode ‘elephant’s memory’ season 3 episode 16 (i think) anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist! and here’s a series moodboard i made on pintrest!

previous part series masterlist next part

{***}{***}{***}

Three firm knocks came from the front door of my apartment. I looked towards the door as I struggled to tie my shoes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I stood up. My sweater was on the hook by the front door, so I can’t even excuse myself for running behind. It was just my anxiety causing me to be a little slow.

So with that, I walked up to the front door to answer it. I’m not sure why I was expecting anyone other than Spencer, but for some reason, my body was telling me it was someone else. But when I opened the door, a smile spread across my face when I saw Spencer.

Small snowflakes were sitting, and melting, in his hair as he stood in the hallway outside my own world. His nose and cheeks were a light rosy pink color because of the coldness outside. A dark plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and hung over his unbuttoned jacket. And his eyes had a certain sparkle that I couldn’t seem to look away from.

“Hey,” Spencer smiled at me as he ruffled his hair, getting the snowflakes out. I stayed silent for a moment too long and kept my eyes on him.

“Hey,” I blinked and shook my head, “I’m almost done… I, uh, was just… Do you want to come… Come in,” I kept my voice low as I asked. I stepped back and pulled the door open.

“Thanks,” he smiled before stepping into my apartment. I looked around my home, realizing that it was a little on the messier side.

“Sorry… Sorry for the mess. I usually don’t… I don’t really have visitors here. And, I guess I sort of forgot that you were coming over,” I bit my lips together.

“Oh, don’t… Don’t worry about it, really. My apartment is pretty messy too,” he brushed my messiness off like it was nothing. I looked around my home one last time before grabbing my sweater off the hook. “It’s starting to snow a little hard out there, we should get going,” Spencer cringed as he looked towards the window, which was covered by the cheap dollar store curtains.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ready,” I looked at him and smiled. He looked back at me before raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have a coat?” He asked, watching as I grabbed my apartment keys. I shoved them in my pocket as I looked at him.

“No, this is enough,” I smiled at him. Spencer nodded before following me out. “So, where was your trip to?” I looked up at Spencer as we stepped onto the sidewalk. He was wrapping a scarf around his neck before tucking it away into his coat.

“Someplace in Texas,” he nodded as he buttoned the last button. He smiled at me before putting an arm around me. I just assumed he did it because I didn’t have an actual coat and just a sweater. “Work stuff… Kinda scary…”

“How does a work trip get scary?” I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at the ground. A very fine layer of snow was dusting the sidewalk, letting our footprints leave tracks as we walked. The snow was coming down like little cotton balls, so our footprints didn’t last very long. I always forget how cold it gets in the Winter.

“Well, uh,” Spencer kept his voice low as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow before looking back up at him. “It’s a long story,” he added in an even lower voice.

“I have time for a long story,” I mumbled with a shrug.

“It’s a really long story,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. It’d take a lot to get this story from him. I’m not even sure if it would be worth the fight...

The chilliness of the air nipped at the back of my neck and arms through my sweater, causing me to shiver. Spencer looked down at me with concern in his eyes. “We need to get you a proper jacket. It’s too cold out for you to be walking in just a sweater and jeans,” he spoke, his tone coming up an octave. I refrained from rolling my eyes because of him changing the subject. I’ll of course bring it up later. He’s clearly not telling me anything about what happened.

“I’m okay, really. With just this,” I tugged on my sweater. Spencer looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Spencer. It’s fine. I don’t think I have money for a coat anyways,” I shrugged it off as nothing. Spencer looked away from me, thinking about something to say. Then he suddenly pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around my neck. “I’m fine!” I exclaimed as I stepped away from him. “Spencer, if being cold is the only thing that gives me feeling, then let me be cold,” I looked up at him, “I’m going through enough withdrawal to be depressed and shit. Just let me be cold,” I pulled the scarf off and handed it back over to him. The scarf stayed draped in my hand, swaying in the wind, between Spencer and me.

Spencer stared at the scarf in my hand before looking up at my face. I couldn’t exactly read the expression he wore, but he was definitely upset about my sudden mood change. He slowly shook his head as he pushed the scarf to me.

“Keep it. If you don’t want a jacket and you won’t let me buy you one, I want you to keep my scarf,” he looked up at my face before taking the scarf from my hand. He carefully wrapped it around my neck and placed his hands on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes before smiling at him. “Please, I have another one at home,”

“Are you too stubborn to take no for an answer?” I asked as I started walking again. Spencer laughed as he caught up to my pace. I smiled as he returned his arm around my shoulders. I leaned more into his embrace.

“That would be correct,” he looked down at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes again and shook my head.

We stayed silent on the remainder of the walk, it wasn’t a far walk from my apartment to the coffee shop. Occasionally, Spencer would crack a joke or two, causing me to laugh. Which was good. I missed a good laugh or two.

“So, do any of your work friends know… about this?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked side-by-side into a coffee shop. It was probably a good bet to say that he probably frequents more often than not. “This being you and going to NA, you and you’re… and you and me,” I stopped myself from saying any more, mostly because I knew he hated when we talked about our issues outside of NA or the community center. I understood why he hated it, but it didn’t leave much left to talk about.

“No, no they don’t,” he mumbled as we stepped in line. There were three or four other people in front of us. Just a short wait, that’s it. I’m okay with waiting, in all honesty. The longer we’re here, the longer we are away from the community center. And God knows we both hate that place... “And I’d prefer if it stayed that way,” he spoke, mostly to himself, like he was reminding himself that no one knew of this secret life he has.

“I see,” I whispered and stepped closer to him. Spencer looked down at me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I looked down and smiled as he held me closer. “I’ve never been here before,” I looked around the cafe, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was comfy and cozy. As opposed to the outside, which was cold and snowy.

“Pretty good. Although, it’s kinda hard for me to say no to coffee,” he laughed as he stepped forward in line. I returned the laughter and nodded.

“What do you get? Normal black coffee? Or a fun drink?” I looked up at him. Spencer looked back down at me and thought.

“Usually just plain coffee with cream and some sugar,” he nodded as he looked towards the front at the menu. I followed his gaze and looked over the menu myself. “What about you?”

“Uh,” I shifted on my feet and looked back at his face, “I just... I don’t really drink coffee or anything,” I crossed my arms over my chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me. “I guess hot chocolate is okay,” I whispered and looked back up at Spencer.

“Hot chocolate, pretty good,” he spoke as he shoved his other hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. We both silently stepped up to the counter.

“Hey there, what can I get you guys?” The barista had a certain chipper-ness to her tone. It was probably from all the caffeine she consumes on a daily basis. Or it was the fact that she’s been awake for a million hours and is just tired. Probably the former...

“Large coffee, plain… Room for sugar and cream,” Spencer smiled at the barista. I shoved my hands in my pocket, hoping to find a spare bill or two. But when I pulled my hand out and it was empty, I frowned. Of course, I don’t have extra money. I’m a 22-year-old drug addict (Recovering… Recovering drug addict), who buys street drugs and can barely pay rent on time. Why would I have extra money shoved into my pocket?

“I don’t need anything,” I looked up at Spencer and forced a fake smile on my lips. He frowned and looked at the barista, who was watching the two of us with a friendly smile.

“No, no, my treat. Don’t worry about it,” He gestured to the counter. He removed his arm from my shoulder and pulled money from his wallet. I looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the barista.

“Uh, small hot chocolate… Thanks,” I kept my voice low, mostly because my anxiety was going crazy. No one’s ever gotten me a drink before, much less anything.

The barista smiled at Spencer and I before taking the money from him. I glanced at him, watching him place the change into the tip jar. He looked down at me with a small smile before guiding me over to where a sign that said “Pick Up Here” sat.

“You didn’t have to buy me a drink, Spencer,” I whispered as we stayed close to one another. He shrugged as he shoved both hands into his pocket. “No, seriously, it’s okay,”

“It isn’t okay, because it’s cold outside and having a nice hot drink is always nice.” Spencer looked down at me and shrugged, “Just accept the kind gesture,” he lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder.

“I’ve never had someone just buy me something before. I mean,” I stopped myself from talking because the end of that statement had to do with drugs. “Ya know?” I glanced at him, hoping he’d just know what I meant.

“Well, that’ll have to change, won’t it,” he whispered and smiled softly. I stared at him and shrugged. I shifted my gaze from his face and to the ground between us.

“Here’s that hot chocolate and coffee for you two.” A different barista smiled at Spencer and I as he placed two paper cups on the counter. Spencer grabbed both cups and handed one over to me. We both turned to leave.

“Listen, Spencer, hot chocolate is one thing. But a coat? That’s a whole other thing,” I spoke before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I hummed as the warmth spread through my body. He smiled at me before grasping my hand.

“C’mon,” Spencer started as he pulled me towards the door of the cafe. I could feel a smile tug on my lips as we walked past a new rush of people.

“Reid?” a woman’s voice spoke, stopping Spencer and I in our tracks. He looked away from me and towards the owner of the voice. I followed his gaze and saw a thin brunette. I didn’t like the way he pulled his hand away from mine like he didn’t want to be caught with someone.

“H-Hi, Emily,” Spencer stared at her with wide eyes. The tone and shakiness in his voice definitely told the person and I that he was anxious that this was happening. Which was valid, considering we were just talking about his friends and co-workers and it’d be bad if they found out about NA.

“Emily… Prentiss. I work with Spencer,” She smiled as she looked at me and stuck out a hand. Spencer still has to tell me what his occupation is. Whenever I asked him where he works, he always said he didn’t like talking about it or that it’d worry me. So, this’ll be a fantastic conversation topic on the way to the community center.

I copied the same stare that Spencer held in his eyes. My eyes were glued to her hand. And, no doubt was my anxiety higher than his. “And you are,” she asked after a moment of my staring and silence. Her smile was still kind, but it was a little worrisome. And, her stare scared me, almost like she was reading me or something.

“Right, right, sorry,” I muttered as I placed my hand in hers. I muttered my name and looked at her. She raised her eyebrow before her eyes shifted to look at Spencer.

“How do you know Spencer,” Emily asked, pulling her hand away from mine. I glanced at Spencer, silently pleading for him to take the lead on this question. I really didn’t want to answer this question because I didn’t know how to answer it.

“Friend from the library,” Spencer spoke up with a certain… fakeness to his tone. It was obvious he was lying. It looked like Emily picked up on that too. With the way she pointedly stared at Spencer.

“How do you think I met him?” I looked up at her and shrugged. I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall and sighed. “If we’re walking, we’re gonna be late,” I looked back at Spencer and spoke firmly. Spencer looked down at me and nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily,” Spencer looked back at his friend and smiled. Emily looked between the two of us before allowing us to leave.

“It was nice meeting you,” she smiled at me as we finally left. I flashed her a nervous smile just as the door closed.

Once we were finally outside, Spencer wrapped his arm back around me. I could feel my body get frigid, I played it off as the temperature of the outside even though it was the return of Spencer’s affection. I really enjoyed the affection, but what I didn’t like was his sudden lack of affection the second we see someone he knows. I understand why he did it, but I hated it. I’m a secret.

“Who’s Emily?” I asked, my tone low. I tried not to sound jealous. Spencer’s my best friend, and that’s it. I don’t like anyone like that, and I probably never will. “I mean, I know she’s someone you work with… But you never tell me anything about what you do for work, Spencer,”

“She’s, uh,” he looked down at me. I kept my eyes away from him and stayed silent as I waited for my answer. “Yeah, she’s one of my co-workers.” He nodded. I looked back up at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

“Where is it you guys work? Because it’s clearly not a Starbucks,” I asked, pressing him again about his occupation. “I mean, because if it is Starbucks, can you get me a job?” I smiled at him. Spencer laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me where you work… But can you describe where you work?”

“No it’s not Starbucks,” he looked down at me and smiled softly. And with that, our conversation about his occupation ended. I tried not sounding or acting upset. But that’s okay. I’ll get over it.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

{***}{***}{***}

“I just don’t understand… Why can’t you tell me?” I looked at Spencer as we walked towards the chairs. He glanced down at me before gesturing towards two chairs. I sat down before him, then watched as he sat down beside me. “Do you work someplace super duper embarrassing? Oh my god, are you a stripper?” I turned to look up at him. Spencer glared at me, a teeny-tiny smile growing on his lips. “Oh my god, you are,” I whispered as I moved closer to him. My butt was on the very edge of my chair so I could be as close as I could to him. “Can you show me somethi-”

“What, no! I’m not a stripper,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows before laughing. I returned the laughter and looked up at him. He looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was nearby, or close enough to hear our conversation. “Why don’t we talk about this when we’re done here… No one here needs to hear our conversation,” Spencer whispered as he looked back at me. I looked at him before reaching out to hold his hand. He flinched slightly when I touched his hand. I looked up at him before blinking. As I went to pull my hand away from him, his grip tightened around my hand. “Does that sound good? I’ll be honest and answer any questions you have,” he looked down at our hands and nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, whether that be saliva or nerves he was swallowing back. A light shade of pink grew on his face, coming up from his neck.

“Yeah, yeah that works,” I looked down at my lap. The scarf was draped over my legs, keeping me warm a little bit. Jacob stood up in the middle of the circle to introduce everyone, and I already wanted the night to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Spencer looking over at me as I silently prayed for death to take me now. “My place or yours?” I smiled softly before looking back at him.

“Yours since we’re already walking back there,” he dropped his head to his shoulder before looking at me. I smiled and turned to face Jacob.

{***}{***}{***}

“Uh, I don’t have much in the means of food. I might have a can of spaghetti-o’s… If you’re hungry,” I spoke as I pulled the scarf off my neck and placed it on the hook, along with my sweater.

“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water,” Spencer spoke as he pulled his coat off. He placed his coat right on the hook beside my sweater. I nodded before walking over to the small kitchenette area.

“You can have a seat anywhere, couch, armchair, floor... “ I grabbed two glasses before filling them with water. I walked back to the living room, my eyes down on the ground.

“So,” I whispered as I set the glasses on the coffee table. Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, leaned over and picked one up. I sat on the opposite end of the couch before curling up into the corner. “Emily seems very nice,” I looked at him, watching as he sipped his water.

“She is… Everyone I work with is like family to me,” Spencer looked at me before placing his glass back on the coffee table. “It’s frustrating because...” he started, but he didn’t finish his thought. I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him.

“What’s frustrating?” I asked, watching as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked back at me for a moment before exhaling.

“It’s frustrating… Because I constantly ask for help and no one helps.” Spencer looked down at his lap. I raised my eyebrow as I turned to face him more.

“How are you asking for help? And… I thought you said no one knows,” I whispered as I laid my head on the back of the couch. Spencer glanced at me before looking back down at his hands. He was pulling at fingers, his joints quietly popping. “Spencer, if no one knows what’s going on, then they can’t help you,” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m sure with Spencer I couldn’t ever say the wrong thing. I mean, he couldn’t say the wrong thing to me…

“No, no… I think they know… And that scares me,” he whispered as he looked back at his hands. “I’ve been with them for so long, and they know me enough to know when something’s wrong,” he shrugged before shifting in his seat.

“What is it you do for work? You still haven’t told me,” I looked back at him as I asked. His gaze shifted between the couch and my face. The way his eyes shifted across my face and his silence told me he was trying to find the words to say but was having a hard time formulating them.

“I work for the FBI,” he whispered, dropping his gaze away from my face.

I could feel my heart drop to my stomach and a certain sickness rise up my esophagus. It took everything in me not to be sick at the moment. My hand balled up into a tight fist, and I could feel my nails digging into my palms so hard, I’m sure if they weren’t nubs I would have bled. The FBI… The police… People who arrest people who buy and sell drugs illegally. People like me...

“The… The FBI?” I asked in a whisper. My voice was shaky as I spoke. Spencer looked back at me and nodded lightly. I shifted in my seat, my body wanting to leave. “You’re not… You’re not an undercover agent, are you?” I swallowed roughly as I stared at him.

“What? No,” Spencer scowled as he looked at me. I looked away from him, mouthing the word ‘Sorry,’ but not even meaning the apology. “I’m not an undercover agent, and I’m not going to arrest you. No, I’m like you. I’m trying too get better.” He whispered as he looked back down on the couch. “Last week, when I was on the work trip… I was saving a kid… Some teenager… He was… He was bullied growing up and in high school. And, he was…”

“Victim turned bad guy?” I asked, interrupting him. He glanced over at me and nodded lightly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s basically what had happened. They were going to shoot him,” he whispered. I glanced at him and noted that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“They? They being the other members of your team?” I wrinkled my nose as I asked. He glanced at me again and nodded. I moved to stand up, but Spencer reached out and grabbed my wrist to stop me from standing. I looked at him with wide eyes and terror on my face. His features softened as he looked at me, realizing that this was getting too real for me too fast.

“And, I… I couldn’t let this kid die. So I stood between this kid, this kid that I only knew so much about, and nine police officers and federal agents and their guns,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he went on. My eyes grew wet as he spoke.

“That’s really stupid of you, Spencer,” I whispered as I shift back to be sitting on the couch. Spencer laughed lightly and nodded. “Don’t… Don’t do that again,” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shook my head.

“Yeah, it was stupid of me, wasn’t it… But, this kid is alive,” he whispered. I looked over at him and watched as he moved closer to me. “You can trust me. I’m trying every bit as you are to get better,” he spoke as he readjusted his grip from my wrist to my hand. I swallowed roughly and looked down at our hands.

“You… I know we don’t know we don’t know each other too well… But you can’t die, Spencer. I don’t care if it’s because of work, because of a bad guy, or because of someone at work, or if it’s because of drugs… But, you can’t die,” I whispered as I looked back at him. I could really feel the tears racing down my cheeks. “I’ve never been clean as long as I have been. I don’t think I can do this without you,” I roughly rubbed my cheeks and shook my head. “I’m… I’m sorry, that’s stupid,” I scoffed and shook my head.

“That’s not stupid. Nothing about it all is stupid.” Spencer looked at me as he spoke. He lifted a hand to wipe my cheeks with a thumb. I looked at him before looking at the ground. “I’m having a rough time… With, uh, with, well, you know. I’ve stopped, uh, it. And last week’s case was the first case without it. I just didn’t care what happened, even if that meant dying.” He whispered as his grip on my hand tightened. “If you can do it… I can do it,”

“Accountability buddies,” I smiled as I reminded him of our promise to each other. Spencer looked back at me and smiled.

“Yes, accountability buddies,” he sighed as he pulled me close for a hug. I took a deep breath, breathing in his smell. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” I wiped my cheeks again, “Mister FBI Agent,” I looked up at him and smiled, “Can you stay the night?” I asked, looking away from his face and at the messy coffee table.

“Are you sure?” He looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him and nodded.

“I think it’d make me feel better… Knowing that you’re… That you’re here,” I glanced at him. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or not. But, I definitely felt weird asking him to stay here. Just something about him being near for the night made me feel safe. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s weird or what-”

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he nodded and looked at me. I smiled before throwing my arms back around him. “Just don't be surprised if I’m not here when you wake up,” he laughed lightly as rested his hands on my back, “I just… I know I’ll have to be at the office early,” he further explained.

“That’s okay,” I nodded and looked up at him, “I promise I won’t make it a habit… Of asking you to stay the night, that is,” I looked away from him and shrugged. Spencer laughed and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he muttered. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear him say that, but I did. And it kinda made me feel happy, like unusually happy. “Is it alright if I use the bathroom?” He asked as he stood up.

“Oh, yeah, yep,” I copied his action and stood up. I looked to the ground as I lead him towards the bathroom, “Here you go,” I gestured into the open room. Spencer smiled at me before entering, pressing the door behind him. I stared at the surface of the door before stepping away. My fingers were tapping together as I walked back to the living room. My anxiety was a little high, and I wasn’t sure why, and the tapping was helping me calm down a bit. I had no secrets in the bathroom, nothing embarrassing or dangerous for him to see.

I silently went back to sit on the couch, pulling my throw blanket over my shoulders. My apartment wasn’t necessarily cold. But there was enough of a chill to be noticeable. Well, to me at least. I’m not so sure about Spencer. I know I could just turn the heat up, but heating bills are expensive.

I instinctively stood up when the bathroom door clicked open. Spencer stepped out, drying his hands on his shirt. I internally cringed at my lack of paper towels or hand towels in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” I looked up at him and cringed. He looked back at me and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. I stared at him for a moment before walking away from the couches. “I really don’t have an issue sleeping on the couch,” he took a larger step to walk beside me. I glanced at me and shrugged.

“It’s cold,” I pointed out as we walked closer to my room. Spencer looked at me and smiled. “Besides, my bed can hold two people,” I smiled, mostly to myself. My bed wasn’t big, to begin with, two people probably shouldn’t be sharing. But, here we are… Because I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer laughed lightly as we entered the room. I looked up at himand smiled more as he looked at my bed. “If you say so,”

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, I was right, yet wrong at the same time. My bed can hold two people. But, it shouldn’t. Even though I’m smaller than Spencer, we were both on the very edge of the mattress. We had been in bed for an hour, and it’d been about 45 minutes since I shut the light off, leaving us in total darkness. I wouldn’t say I was uncomfortable, but it was difficult to be comfortable.

I rolled over onto my side, my back facing Spencer. Spencer was stiff on top of the blanket, making it impossible to get comfortable under it. He laid perfectly still on his back with his hands folded on his stomach.

“You know you can get under the blanket,” I spoke out loud as I looked up at him. He looked over at me, and it was clear that he hadn’t fallen asleep yet either. “Or, I can go get the blanket from the living room and you can use that,” I added in a whisper.

“It’s fine,” he nodded before shifting to move the blanket.

Once Spencer was actually under the blanket, he rolled on his side, so my back was pressed against his chest. My body stiffened once he relaxed. After a few minutes, I finally let my body relax and melt into the bed… That was until Spencer draped his arm over my body.

“It’s okay,” I spoke before he even got the chance to move away from me, “It’s fine, you’re… You can stay there,” I shivered because I was cold and not because of my sudden anxiety. I knew he could sense my nerves. “It’s fine, really, Spencer,” I placed a hand on top of his to keep him from moving away from me. “Are you asleep?” I whispered, already knowing the answer. I knew we both wouldn’t be asleep anytime soon. The cuddling happening between us is obviously something we’ve never experienced before. I mean, I don’t know about Spencer, but I’ve never cuddled another human being other than my own mother (but even then she hadn’t cuddled me in more than 10 years).

“Yes, I’m still awake,” he spoke, his voice low. His grip around me got a little tighter, pulling me closer to his chest. The way he held on to me was comparable to a child holding their stuffed animal, and I was honestly okay with it. “I’m assuming you’re still awake, considering you just asked me a question,”

“I don’t usually fall asleep for a while after I go to bed,” I mumbled, pulling the blanket closer to me, “I spend most of my nights in bed, awake till 4 am,” I sighed. I silently hoped that tonight would be different though.

“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer whispered. I shrugged as I shifted closer to him and further to the middle of the bed. “Maybe you should try to sleep earlier tonight,” “Yeah… Maybe,”

{***}{***}{***}

I woke up before him. Our legs were tangled together, and he was holding me close against his chest. For the first time in a long time, I actually slept well. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the enormous space heater beside me, or because another person was actually in bed with me, but I was getting very hot.

I looked up at Spencer’s face, wanting to stay like this for a while. Although, I knew we couldn’t stay like this. He’d have to leave soon to go to work. He just looked so peaceful asleep. And, I was so comfortable lying here…

I widened my eyes as I stared at him. My heart started beating faster, and I wasn’t sure if I could get it to slow. Part of me was worried that it’d wake him up, and another part of me was okay with it all. But, why was I worried as much as I was? And, why was it only when I was with Spencer I felt this way? What was going on? Crap...

I quickly closed my eyes and nuzzled my body closer to him when I saw that he started stirring. I threw my arms over his body and pressed my face to his chest. His heart beating and breath was somewhat soothing for me.

Spencer carefully shifted in his space before pulling my arms off him. I refrained from pouting. The bed shifted as Spencer sat up in the bed, partly bringing the blanket with him. He tossed the blanket back to me, lightly covering me again.

“Do you have to go to work,” I whined as I looked at Spencer as he slid out of my bed. He looked down at me with wide eyes.

“I thought you were asleep,” he half muttered. I sat up before rubbing my eyes. Sleep? Pfft, I never sleep. He should know that! We just talked about it last night. “And, yes, I have to go to work,” he stood up and turned to look at me. I looked up at him and frowned.

“Nah, I never sleep, we talked about that last night,” I shook my head. Spencer sat at the foot of the bed to put his shoes back on. “I just have a bed to lay in and wallow in self-pity when I’m not at the community center,” I rubbed my nose. I pushed the blanket off me and crawled over to sit beside him. “And when I’m not with you,” I looked up at him.

“You don’t do anything during the week?” He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged and shook my head. “Really?”

“I mean, Wednesdays are really the only days I have stuff. I guess I could do chores and stuff,” I looked towards the door, remembering the mess in my living room, “I know what you’re thinking, I should get a job. But that’s so hard. I don’t have any job experience,”

“I never said I was thinking that,” Spencer turned to face me. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him. “How do you-”

“I’m friends with the owner of the building and he knows I live on hard times. And, mom had some money left behind,” I dropped my head so I wasn’t looking at him.

“I’m not judging you,” he spoke, his tone very insistent. I sighed and nodded.

“You should go, before you’re late,” I looked back up at him, “I don’t want to be the reason why you’re late. Emily already knows about me. We don’t need the others asking about me. Some random girl you slept with,” I smiled. Spencer looked over at me, trying to hold back his smile.

“You’re not going to stay in bed all day, are you?” He asked, standing up. I looked up at him and shook my head.

“I told you, I can do chores and stuff,” I shrugged and looked around my room, this time at the laundry room. “Will I see you again before next Wednesday?” I asked as I moved closer to the edge of the bed.

“That’ll entirely depend on work,”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Agent Spencer,” I smiled at him before standing up. Spencer glared at me for a moment before laughing, “Are you like 007?” I asked leading him back out of my room.

“No, I’m not like James Bond,”

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