#Remember millions of people on both sides are hitting their head against the wall saying is this really the best we got?
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I do not care what political stance you take.
All I have to say is happy day before the over played political adds go away. We are so close!
Also shout out to all the people who voted early, and still had to see them day in and day out!
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islndgurl777 · 4 months ago
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the endings we choose
Fandom: 12 Monkeys
Length: ~3700
When Time allows them to remember the life-that-wasn't, Ramse, Katarina, and Hannah have different reactions. Luckily Cassie, Jennifer, and Cole are there to explain. Timelines can be erased. Love (and family) cannot.
Sequel to writing about the past for the future tense, hashtag not-a-red-shirt problems
Both on AO3 here.
/
YEAR
2043
Ramse
José’s been having weird dreams. Nothing specific he can put his finger on, nothing he can remember with real clarity except bright flashes of light, the staccato sound of gunfire, and the taste of his own blood in his mouth. 
Strangely, he doesn’t awaken from these dreams frightened, but rather… lonely? Aching. Like there’s something important to them that he’s missing. Someone .
It’s maddening to wake day after day with the persistent feeling that he’s forgetting something important. He starts making to-do lists so he can keep track of anything he needs to do in an effort to stop the dreams or make the wrong feeling go away, but it continues. For weeks, the same dream, the same feeling haunts him.
There’s nothing special about that day in March 2043 except that he awakens with a much clearer idea of what exactly it is that he’s been dreaming about for months, a plot so crystal clear and cogent in his early morning brain that he has to pause for a minute to marvel at the fact that his unconscious mind put such a wild tale together. 
A plague and a dead world and a time machine and a brother. 
That last is what drives him the most crazy, because he can feel the man’s name at the tip of his tongue, will open his mouth to say it like he’s said it a thousand, a million times… but he doesn’t know what that name is. He knows this man down to his bones, to his very soul, and José knows he’s the source of the ache in his chest, but he’s never seen the man before in his life, and he doesn’t even know his name. 
How can he miss someone who never existed? 
/
He takes Sam into the city for a boys’ day. They take the train in and wander for hours, José pointing out landmarks he remembers from his youth, and at one point he says without thinking, “Your uncle Cole once-.“ He stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. 
Cole. Cole. Who was that?
He doesn’t register Sam guiding him away from the middle of the sidewalk until his back hits the rough brick wall of the nearest building, and his legs almost give out under him. 
“Daddy?” Sam says, sounding worried.
José blinks and shakes his head to clear it. His kid needs him and that takes priority over his weird mental break. “Yeah, buddy?”
Sam tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and says, “Who’s Uncle Cole?”
Tears spring to his eyes at the name and his breath hitches in his chest again. “I- I don’t-“ he shakes his head and tears his eyes away from Sam’s confused face, looking around for answers he knows he’ll never find and he stops at the sign of the hotel across the street. 
Emerson. 
A strangled noise catches in his throat and he suddenly knows.
It was all real. 
The Kalavirus. Splinter technology. Titan.
James Cole.
He swallows against a dry throat and straightens. Holds out his hand for Sam and squeezes it for his own sake as much as to reassure his son. “C’mon, buddy.” His voice is rough so he clears it. “We might have some people to meet.”
/
Cassie 
There’s a hesitant knock on the door to the room and Cassie’s heart leaps into her throat.
James should be here for this. He was the one who was supposed to greet his brother when Time finally caught up and he remembered them, but Jennifer had said it should be Cassie instead. 
“Why?” she’d blurted, knife raised in the act of slicing a block of cheese for their wine night. She’d frozen, mouth agape and stared at Jennifer as if she’d grown another head.
Jennifer rolled her eyes and put her hand on Cassie’s wrist, slowly lowering the blade. “Why not?”
Cassie let go of the knife and turned to fully face Jennifer, speaking a little slowly because it was absurd she even had to say it. “Because it’s Ramse. He’s Cole’s brother. Shouldn’t he be the one to-”
Jennifer was already shaking her head. “No, it should be you.”
‘Why?” Cassie pressed again. “Why does it have to be me?” Their mutual hatred for each other might have settled into a mutual understanding of each other there at the end, but that was hardly reason enough for Cassie to be the one to tell Ramse the story of everything he’d missed. 
“Because he might not believe it’s over if he sees me first,” Cole said from the doorway. He must’ve come to get refills for him and Deacon. “He knew Time was supposed to unmake me after Titan, and if he sees I’m still alive before we get a chance to explain how, he might panic and think this is all still… temporary. He doesn’t deserve that, not after…” He sighed and shook his head. “He deserves to be happy, and maybe that means he never knows I’m here, but if he needs answers, he should hear it from you.”
His eyes pleaded with her to do this for him, and there’s not much she wouldn’t do for James Cole, so in the end she nodded and agreed to be there in his stead.
She wipes the palms of her hands on her thighs and lets out a slow breath as she walks to the door.
He’s the youngest she’s ever seen him, aside from when they’d dropped James off at the orphanage in 2015, or maybe the difference in his eyes is that he hasn’t lived through the death of the world. He looks healthy, and so unburdened. 
His voice is the exact same though, as he lets out a raspy, “Hi,” that throws her back to just before the final battle at Titan.
“Hi,” she says, a little stunned by how happy she is to see him. 
They stand there staring at each other for a long moment before a high-pitched, “Hi!” comes from behind Ramse, jolting Cassie’s eyes away from him. 
She sucks in a breath and the tears break free. “Sam,” she breathes, reverent. He’s unmistakably the same boy she’d known in the unmade timeline - the one Ramse had been hellbent on destroying the world for, the one he’d become the Traveler for, the one he would have killed his brother, her and their son for.
They’d undone it all and yet he’s here, half-hiding behind Ramse and looking up at her curiously.
Cassie suddenly understands Ramse completely. This man had been willing to end the world for his son and his family, and she had almost done the exact same thing. And for both of them, there had been only one person who could have prevented them from doing so.
Cassie looks back to Ramse and can’t contain her happiness any longer. She pulls him into a hug, and he’s just startled enough to let her. He wraps his arms around her slowly, gives her one firm squeeze, and then pulls away, wiping his eyes as he does so. 
He clears his throat and turns to Sam. “This is your Aunt Cass,” he says, voice still rough.
Cassie doesn’t bother wiping away her tears, just opens the door wider and gestures for them to come in. “Have a seat. I’ll order us some lunch, and then I'll tell you a story,” she says. 
As she watches them settle in on the couch in suite 607, she bites her lip and considers her options. Finally, she decides that sometimes, Primaries and husbands don’t always know best, so she pulls out her phone to send off a quick text. She clears her throat and sits in the armchair next to them and continues, “After that, there’s some other people you might want to see.”
/
Katarina
“You ever think this technology could be used for something else?” Jennifer blurts as they watch a stack of crates disappear from the platform in front of them in a flash of blue light. 
Katarina turns to her and cocks her head. “Haven’t I taken enough funding from Markridge, Jennifer? And now you want me to start another project?” She can’t deny the little thrill that shoots through her at the thought of a new project, but she’s decided she’s retiring once this one is finalized. She’s ready to let the young scientists take up the mantle and usher in the future.
Jennifer shrugs and her voice is strangely intent as she says, “Might not be as difficult as you thought, adapting that machine for other uses.”
She lets out a short bark of laughter. “Like what?” She can’t think of anything her machine is equipped to do except teleport objects, except perhaps someday soon people, but that’s years of work down the line. Nothing she could do anytime soon.
With a huff and a bit of a pout, Jennifer turns away and says, “Just thought I’d ask!”
/
After Jennifer mentions it, Katarina starts having strange dreams. What other advancements in technology could her life’s work beget? For some reason, her unconscious mind leaps from travel to time travel, and a series of dreams keep her sleeping poorly for weeks. 
She keeps sneaking out in the middle of the night for a calming cigarette until one night when Elliot joins her. Instead of rebuking her for falling off the wagon, he holds his hand out for the pack and lights up alongside her. “I’ve been having the strangest dreams,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Katarina nods and takes another drag of her cigarette. “Me too.” They sit in comfortable silence for a long time before she continues, “I dreamt I had radiation poisoning from the machine.”
Elliot freezes, then turns slowly to look at her. “I dreamt that too. And then I dreamt that Deacon shot me.”
Now it’s Katarina’s turn to freeze. She hadn’t dreamt that, but it still feels… correct, which is a strange feeling to have about a man who was a good friend to both of them and who gave such a beautiful toast at their anniversary party last year. “Elliot…”
He stubs out his cigarette and shakes his head, holding his hand out for her. “I think we need to gather more data, what do you say, Kat?”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, but also puts out her cigarette and reaches for his hand. “Dreams are not a science, Elliot. I don’t think ‘more data’ will help with this one.”
They walk through the door hand in hand and he gives her a little spin, dancing her into the circle of his arms as they cross the threshold. “Well, then, at least I will have gotten you back into bed, wouldn’t I?” he smirks as he presses a kiss to the corner of her eye.
She swears she doesn’t giggle as they make their way back into their bedroom.
/
Jennifer
In the end there’s no lightning bolt moment that marks the time before Katarina knew and the time after.
Jennifer and Deacon are sitting across from them at their dining room table. It’s their biweekly dinner double-date and they’re a couple bottles of wine down as a group when Jennifer says something so nonsensical that Katarina barks out a laugh and says with affection, “You’re still as batshit crazy as ever, Ms. Goines.”
And Jennifer pauses in the middle of her laughter, eyes still bright with happiness.
“I can’t thank you enough for your contributions to our project, Ms. Goines,” Katarina had said as she shook Jennifer’s hand at their first meeting.
Jennifer’s nose had wrinkled and she’d shook her head. “No, I don’t think we’re there yet. You can just call me Jennifer.”
Katarina found herself, for some inexplicable reason, bucking years of propriety instilled in her by her father and had agreed immediately. “Then you’ll call me Katarina.”
Jennifer reaches over to squeeze Deacon’s hand, finding it without looking, because this is it. This is the beginning of them starting to close their own little loop. And her smile widens further as she nods to Katarina and says, “Always, Jonesy. Always.”
/
Just the two of them are out on the patio finishing another bottle of wine when Katarina brings it up. “How on earth did you convince me to create some of the serum to send Mr. Deacon back to, when, 2016? 2018?”
Jennifer takes another sip, nearly finishing off her glass, and shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jonesy. Time said it was cool? Cole wasn’t the only one who worked his ass off to save the universe, y’know. I had a little something to do with it too.”
Katarina snorts rather inelegantly and absolutely does not spill any of her wine down her shirt, no siree. “And much like Time conspired-- with my help, by the way-- to return James to Cassie, so you and Time have conspired to return Mr. Deacon to you?”
“Uh, yeah!” Jennifer says with a roll of her eyes. “Well, Deacon-- this Deacon-- helps too. Because he wanted to. Wants to? Will want to?” Even though she forgot to tell him he wanted to until it was almost too late. But his books are almost finished now, so it’ll be fine. Just like she knew it would be.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Goines. Jennifer.” Katarina lets out a muttered curse in German. “I can’t believe you found a way to bring this family together again, despite… everything.”
Jennifer thinks of Lasky and Adler, both retired now, but whose work had once again been instrumental in technological advancements at Raritan. Marcus, whose path had not drawn him into their orbit in this life, but who she keeps tabs on anyway through a number of contacts in the military. A long list of the women who were once her daughters, some of whom she was able to help in this life, some of whom she was not, but every one of whom she’d loved in the life that got erased and this one.
She sighs. “Love can’t be undone, Jonesy.” She raises her glass in a toast - to everyone she’s ever loved -  and drains it. “Now about the machine…”
/
Hannah 
Hannah doesn’t think she can recall a single one of her own birthdays that her Uncle James wasn’t present for. There had to have been, when she was very young, because he and Aunt Cass didn’t meet her mom until her Aunt Jenny introduced them after Markridge became a major donor at Raritan, but that was so long ago now that it really doesn’t count.
Her Uncle James has been a constant in her life for as long as she can remember. Birthdays, graduations, the occasional soccer game before she got fed up with team sports. 
“Have you ever thought about fighting?” he’d asked her once, after she’d quit sports for good but was lamenting the lack of physical activity; she wasn’t meant to sit still.
She lifted a brow at him and said drily, “I’ve thought of punching one or two of the cheerleaders who bully the freshmen, if that’s what you mean.”
He barked out a laugh. “No, like boxing, or MMA, or some self-defense? I think you’d like it.”
She cocked her head. “I’ll think about it,” she promised. 
A month later he was helping her through some moves at the gym and he smiled widely at her, tears in his eyes, when she threw him over her shoulder on pure instinct. When she tried to apologize he waved her off with a laugh and said, “No, I’m fine. You just reminded me a lot of my mom just then.”
The point is, he’s such a large part of her life that it doesn’t surprise her when he pops up a lot in her dreams, and her parents are science freaks (stated with utmost affection), so having dreams with wacky stories about plagues and time travel really aren’t that strange to her.
She starts having weirdly specific and scary dreams but chalks it up to being too old to drink coffee past 5 pm and adjusts her diet accordingly.
/
“You should take your uncle out for this birthday,” her mom says to her apropos of nothing during one of their weekly phone calls.
Hannah’s fork pauses in the act of digging through her box of takeout, trying to remember what day it is today, and which uncle her mom could be talking about. “James? I thought Cassie was taking him to the Keys for the week?”
Her mom hums and says, “Something came up.”
Hannah makes a sound like she’s considering it as she finishes chewing her food.
“Get dressed up, go to that bar you two like so much. Make a fun night of it,” her mom prods, and her tone is so carefully casual that it sends a shiver down Hannah’s spine.
“Mom?” she says, and sets the box of noodles on her coffee table. “Is something wrong?” She hates how weak and thready her voice sounds. A pit is forming in her stomach; if something’s wrong with James she thinks she might actually die from the pain.
“Hmm? Oh, no, Hannah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry you.” Katarina mutters under her breath in German, quiet enough that Hannah can’t quite pick it up. “I just know he misses you, and I thought it would be nice for you two to spend his birthday together.”
Hannah lets out a shaky breath and gives a short, sharp nod. “I’ll text him tonight.”
/
Her work schedule demands she meet him there rather than going together, and she’s a little late arriving at the Emerson. She rushes through the lobby and heads straight for the bar, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she stops dead just inside the door when she sees him.
Cole is sitting in an armchair near the window, watching the amber of his whisky sour swirl in his glass while he waits for her. Headlights flash through the window, blinding her for a moment and in that moment she remembers a much younger Cole sitting in front of a fireplace with her and her mother as they all drank whisky sours on the promise of “one minute more.”
Before that the last time she’d seen him he’d been a few months old, a heavy weight in her arms that she’d wanted desperately to hold onto forever, but one she knew she’d have to give up. 
This version of Cole has salt-and-pepper scruff on his cheek and deep wrinkles next to his eyes. He looks like his father, she thinks. A deep ache presses on her heart at that and she feels a sob catch in her throat.
She feels like she’s wading through pudding as she crosses the bar over to him. If she’s here right now, he shouldn’t be, and now that she’s fully aware of who he is she’s afraid to find this miracle she’s known and loved her whole life is about to evaporate before her eyes.
He sees her then and his eyes light up as he stands to greet her, but he takes in the look on her face and pauses instead of going for his regular hug. “Hannah?”
She lets out a sob as she throws her arms around him, squeezing-squeezing-squeezing as tight as she possibly can. She never wants to let him go again.
“Mom,” he sighs into her ear, and she lets out a hysterical laugh into his neck. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
/
Cole
Hannah shakes in his arms, but she has a vice-like grip around him so he can’t pull away to look into her eyes and check on her. “Hannah,” he says quietly into her hair again, loosening his own hold on her. 
She shakes her head and whispers, “Just give me another minute. One minute more.”
He nods and tightens his grip again, happy to give her this.
In the erased timeline, he’d held her when she was four and nearly died of meningitis at Spearhead, and he didn’t hold her again until she lay dying in his arms that day at JFK when they killed the world. 
In this timeline, he’s held her countless times. 
“This is Hannah,” Jones said, bouncing the toddler on her hip and giving them an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, we may have to reschedule dinner. I’ve barely started cooking since this one’s being a bit of a grump about going to bed.”
Cassie nodded and opened her mouth to reassure her it was fine, but it snapped shut when Hannah launched herself from Katarina’s arms into Cole’s. 
“Woah,” he said, catching her with ease. “Careful, kiddo.” He adjusted his grip to put her on his own hip and looked into her eyes.
“Hannah!” Jones gasped, stepping forward to take her back even as Hannah leaned her head on Cole’s shoulder and snuggled in.
“It’s okay, Katarina,” he said, brushing his cheek along Hannah’s, meeting Cassie’s eyes.
She nodded and turned to Jones. “James can tell her a bedtime story in the living room while we finish up in the kitchen, if you want?”
Jones laughed at her daughter’s antics but left him to hold Hannah while he murmured a story to her about a serpent who only traveled in one direction.
That was the first, but there have been countless hugs since to mark hellos, goodbyes, congratulations, breakups, or even just because. They hadn’t had enough before, so he’s made sure to make up for it in this life.
“Okay,” she says, nodding into his shoulder and loosening her grip. 
He pulls away and looks down into her eyes, red-rimmed with her eyeliner and mascara smudged up so much she reminds him of when she used to be a Daughter. “Hi,” he says, his own eyes a little watery.
“How…” She swallows hard and shakes her head, eyes searching his face. “How are you here?” she asks, lifting her hand to cup his cheek.
He squeezes her other hand in his and guides her to the settee next to the chair he’d been occupying. Once they’re seated he starts, “At the end of the world, when Time was supposed to unmake me, one of the best women I know chose a different ending.”
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ynscrazylife · 3 years ago
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Can I please please request one where Natasha and Yelena have another younger sister (Y/N) and she gets badly injured and her older sisters are hysterical since they’re afraid to lose one they love the most
A Race Against Time | romanoff fam fic
Summary: Natasha and Yelena do their best to help their hurt younger sister.
Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!
Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)
MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist
PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.
header c @/twitalents
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“Everybody alright?” Natasha asked as Alexei and Melina approached her and Yelena. The redhead herself definitely hadn’t gotten out of the whole ordeal without injuries. In fact, from Dreykov punching her to the fight against the Widows, and the fight against Antonia (not to mention the injuries from the past few days that she hadn’t taken care of), she was in some pain. However she didn’t worry about herself, she knew she’d be fine. She always was.
Natasha glanced over and spotted Y/N making her way over to them, too. From the distance, Natasha couldn’t tell that she was limping and was very hurt.
“I am clearly injured,” Melina deadpanned, causing Natasha to look back over and send her adoptive mother a smile as an apology. With a quick glance, Natasha could tell that she’d be okay, she’d just need a cast on that ankle and-
Thump.
The sound, accompanied by Yelena’s loud gasp and yelp, broke through Natasha’s thoughts and caused her to whip around suddenly. The sight her eyes landed on instantly sent what felt like an ice shard plunging into her chest. No. No.
By the time she snapped out of it, Yelena was already by Y/N’s unconscious figure, which the thump must have been - her plummeting to the ground - and Alexei was helping Melina over as fast as he could. Natasha sped past them and dropped to her knees, her brain wired to already be processing the situation and formulating a plan, while she lightly stopped Yelena’s wrist to prevent her from going to shake Y/N.
“You don’t move someone who is unconscious unless necessary - it could injure them,” she breathed out. Yelena, who could see that her older sister was in autopilot mode, sat back and let her do her thing, opting to look up at her parents, instead.
Both their eyes were glued to Y/N. Alexei’s eyebrows crinkled and, after taking a big breath, muttered (just loud enough for them to hear), “There’s blood on you.”
Natasha’s eyes snapped down and sure enough, her knees were bloodied. She quickly looked up only to see blood beginning to come from Y/N’s stomach where she had fallen on her side. Closing her eyes for a moment to allow herself to think, Natasha carefully and gently pulled up Y/N’s shirt, only to see an open gash in the shape of the Widow hourglass.
“Wha-?” She said, barely forming a word, and Yelena leaned over to see.
She immediately began shaking her head and pushed Y/N onto her back. “I-I know what this is, I think. I remember hearing about a weapon that’d leave that mark,” she rambled out.
Melina peered over Natasha’s shoulder and when she saw it, her face went pale. “That-that weapon, it ejects a blast that makes that mark when it meets the skin. It was made as a precaution in case any of the Widows went rogue - it was made years ago. But only a few were made because they were so confident in themselves. It-it goes along with a process they constructed to re-brainwash the Widows. The blast gets under her skin, in her body, with a chemical that’s in it, and that chemical starts the brainwashing process,” she explained.
A park of hope entered Yelena’s eyes. “So she won’t be fully brainwashed?” She asked.
“Not without the rest of the procedure,” Melina began, but then her eyes widened when she remembered something and horror quickly flashed across her face. “But if the process isn’t completed within a certain time period, the chemical will wear off its brainwashing effects and instead will start hurting her . . . A lot . . . But I have an antidote-” her tone sped up now, “-It’s back at the house. We need to get her there.”
Natasha and Yelena nodded, both having gone through a great wave of emotions throughout Melina’s words. Yelena, while racked with worry, still remained hopeful, and Natasha did her best to be, too, but her tears were drying and she was sniffling.
“The jet is-” Alexei began to say, when the sound of the engines of cars rapidly approaching cut him off.
Natasha looked over. “Shit, Ross,” she said, regretting even tipping him off to their location in the first place.
Melina bit her lip. “You girls go. Take Y/N home. The antidote is labelled ‘Ant-Widow,’,” she told them firmly.
Yelena’s lips parted to protest, not wanting to split up, but catching Natasha picking up Y/N out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She nodded, rising to her feet.
“We’ll distract them. They won’t want anything to do with us when they realize you’re not here,” Melina insisted.
Natasha sent her a look that she could only hope was conveying everything she wanted it to. A million thoughts whizzed about in her mind, none making room for each other. She wondered, would they leave them alone? Or would they be taken into questioning? Shouldn’t she be the one facing Ross - since she called him there? Is Y/N going to be okay? Will they get there in time?
By the way Melina looked back at her, Natasha thought that her message had been received. There was no time to go over the plan any longer, if they stayed even a couple more seconds they’d get caught by Ross, whose army of cars headed to a halt.
Natasha bolted off in the jet’s direction, Yelena quick on her heels. They rushed inside and Natasha took her time to gently put Y/N down before going to the pilot seat. Yelena sat down in the back, wanting to watch over their little sister.
Neither of them said anything until Natasha had gotten them off the ground and away from the field. Yelena could hear the engine whirring and she knew that Natasha was going as fast as this aircraft could probably go.
“Natasha,” she said, her voice small and hesitant, reminding Natasha of her own self when she was younger. The redhead braced herself for her sister’s words. “Do you think we’ll get there in time?”
Natasha let out a slow yet steady breath, fighting back the urge to tell her not to say that. She wondered the same thing, and she hated it. She didn’t answer, though, because she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know herself, and she also hated that.
Yelena looked down in defeat when she didn’t get an answer and continued watching Y/N. She couldn’t stop herself from worrying and when she spotted the other injuries — bruises, cuts, scrapes — littering her body, she got up and went to the back.
The blonde grabbed the med kit they had stored and went back, quickly opening it up and getting everything she needed. First, bandages. Yelena put pressure on the wound even though she knew it wouldn’t bleed out, and a twinge of guilt hit her when Y/N moved and groaned unconsciously.
She then wrapped up Y/N’s stomach and tended to her other injures, every so often glancing at Natasha, who she could see by the way she was sitting up straight that she was tense. Upset. Worried. Yelena had to admit she was feeling those same things but busied herself by taking care of Y/N.
This carried on and they were about ¾ there when everything shifted. Y/N, who had been mostly quiet throughout the journey, suddenly rolled onto her side, eyes opening with a startled gasp.
Natasha frantically looked up at Yelena and the latter jumped to resolve the situation. Gently, she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and tried to turn her onto her back, but Y/N fought her off and scurried back, against the wall.
“Y/N,” Yelena said, slowly putting her hands up in a “surrender” gesture.
The younger one shook her head as tears began to flow down her cheeks. “It-it hurts,” she got out, wrapping her arms around herself.
Yelena sent Natasha a frightened, desperate look and the glint in Natasha’s eyes held tears in them. “I can’t go any faster!” She cried out in frustration, her anger at her helplessness beginning to grow.
Yelena turned back to Y/N. “Take deep breaths with me, okay?” She said, and took a couple deep breaths to show her. It took Y/N a second, but she followed along. However, the pain didn’t take a break for long, and quickly came crashing back to her, like a magnet.
She let out another cry, but this one filled with that much more anguish, desperation, a pure rage from wanting it to be over, a rage that nearly caused her to vomit. Y/N leaned forward, hoping that there was something - anything - that could relieve this pain for even just a second. The warmth she was soon filled with from her older sister’s arms wrapping around her and pulling her close did nothing to soothe pain, but she found someone to have a steady grip on, someone to hold.
This continued on. In every cry let out, Yelena could’ve sworn each one was louder than the last. She didn’t know what to do so she did the only thing she could and stayed there. After  a particularly loud cry from Y/N, Yelena couldn’t stop a “Natasha!” from escaping.
“I’m trying!” She shouted over the engine and over Y/N, doing her best to blink away the tears and focus, but everytime she was on the brink of it, something tore her away.
After what felt like what could only be described as eons, Natasha managed to touch down in the same spot she had just a day ago. The moment they made contact, she leapt out of her seat, nearly tumbling to the floor, and practically fell against the door.
“Stay with her,” was all she said to Yelena before pushing all her weight against the door and breaking off into a run towards the house.
Natasha had run fast before. To escape Antonia, on countless SHIELD missions, and even to beat Sam in a race, but none amounted to this. The mountains and trees whipped by so fast that she felt like she was in a race car and it made her head spin. Nonetheless (and she thanked her extensive training for that), Natasha’s stamina held out and she ran through the house, tripping over things and knocking others over, until she reached Melina’s office.
At first, everything looked like a normal office space for a normal business woman, but the underlying science and spy secrecy that she knew had to be inside was revealed. Cabinets upon cabinets filled with vials upon vilas and files upon files. She scoured the entire room and nearly dropped the green-filled file when she saw its label. This was it.
A moment of victory passed until Natasha remembered the weight of the situation and she got back on her feet, running like the wind, and leaving behind the office looking like some raccoons had gotten inside.
By the time she reached the top of the hill, Natasha could make out the outline of Yelena carrying Y/N (who was draped over her like a curtain, by the way) toward her.
They met in the middle and Yelena put Y/N down, the older sisters kneeling beside her. Y/N was half-conscious at this point and Natasha moved at the speed of light to get the vial lid off. “She was getting worse, I couldn’t wait!” Yelena yelled.
When she got it open, Natasha pushed it towards Y/N’s lips. “Y/N, honey, c’mon, you gotta drink,” she encouraged, hand trembling as Y/N attempted to fight her off. It was only Yelena running her hands through her hair that calmed her down, and she took a small sip of the vial’s contents at first before gulping it down.
When she stopped squirming and seemed to no longer be in pain, instead falling into a peaceful sleep, that’s when both Natasha and Yelena had calmed down. It had been a rollercoaster, but they did it, and she was okay. The two held each other, relieved.  
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noteguk · 4 years ago
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hickeys | jjk | m | drabble
[ ! ] this is a “bad influence” drabble
— summary; Jungkook gets a bit jealous. Not that he’d ever admit it. 
— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, jealousy/possessiveness!!, kind of angry sex (it’s one-sided, jk is going through a Moment), unprotected sex, marking (hickeys, mentions of bruises), dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, mentions of oral (f rec) and of cum eating, jk has a big dick, the oc being clueless but overall having a good time 
— words; 2,2k 
— author’s note; this was supposed to be shorter but, well, that’s the story of my life. A few people asked for a bit of jealous!jk so here I am to deliver it 😌 Inspired by this ask I got. 
Jungkook hated the wintertime. He hated the fact that you no longer used skirts because of the cold weather, hated that you had to go away for a few weeks because of winter break and, above all, hated those stupid turtlenecks you wore. 
Not because you didn’t look good in them — in fact, he had grown to appreciate them over the weeks, the way they made your breasts pop out and how your body felt so comfortable and warm against his — but because it became extremely easy for you to cover up the hickeys he gave you. Which completely missed the point of even having hickeys in the first place. 
“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” You asked him, fingers pulling slightly on the messy strings of his dark hair. Jungkook was hovering above you in bed, his mouth glued to the skin of your neck, sucking on the flesh. He simply moaned in response, hoping that the roll of his hips against yours would make you shut up. Which obviously didn’t happen. “You better not be doing it.” 
Jungkook pulled away from your skin with a pop!, watching the blossoming red that appeared close to your jaw. It would be hard to cover up that one. “And what if I am?” He smirked, placing a kiss against your lips. His cock was deep inside you, and it was incredibly difficult to argue with him when he was fucking you so well. Not that it would stop you from trying. “What are you going to do about it?” 
You playfully hit him on the shoulder, the frown on your face only making him smile wider. “You’re such a jerk, I’m going to spend all the concealer I have left with this one,” you complained, and Jungkook hummed and leaned back towards your neck, resuming his devilish ministrations. Only one hickey wouldn’t be enough, Jungkook realized, he wanted you to go out to buy more makeup for that. “What’s the deal with you today?” You tried again.
Jungkook’s irritated groan vibrated throughout your skin, his hands tightening around your hips as a flame of anger sparked inside his chest. His deal was that you had cancelled on him at least three times last week to go out with some stupid guy named Jimin from your Wednesday afternoon class. He knew that he shouldn’t care about it — you two were obviously not exclusive, barely even a thing, and you didn’t seem to give a single fuck when he told you about one of the girls that he was going out with. And yet there he was: pissed off out of his mind because someone else might have interest in you, fucking you hard into the mattress because he wanted you to remember that no one could be as good as he was. 
There was also a second layer of indignation when it came to that subject: Jungkook was frustrated with himself because he was balls deep inside your pussy and he couldn’t even focus on it without thinking about your stupid date. It was the fourth week of the semester, he hadn’t seen you for the entirety of winter break, and it was the first time that he was fucking you in your bed (since your roommate was out in some idiotic spiritual retreat). He could actually have you for as long as he wanted, as loud as he wanted, not a single worry about being interrupted. And how was he using that time? Being jealous of a guy he barely even knew, just because he took you out for coffee or whatever. 
It really wasn’t his best moment.  
“Jungkook, that’s so good,” you cried out, sucking him out of his thoughts. Jungkook grunted at the desperate tone of your voice, his name sounding so perfect coming from your mouth, and he just wanted to hear more of it. His cock was slipping in and out of you with ease, your wetness dripping down his length, and he forced himself to pay attention to you for the rest of the night. “I’m getting close.” 
“Yeah?” Jungkook groaned and pressed his forehead against yours — he could tell that already from the way you were tightening so perfectly around him, hugging his cock like you were meant to take it. “You like when I fuck your pussy like this, baby?” 
“Y-Yeah, I love it.” You closed your eyes, back arching off the bed as he continued to drill his fat cock in and out of you. No matter how many times he gave it to you, you couldn’t get used to the incredible pressure of his girth against your walls, filling you up so perfectly. “Feels so good…” 
“Is this all for me baby?” Jungkook finished his sentence with a particularly hard slam of his hips against yours — you didn’t even need to ask him to fuck you rougher, he already knew that was what you wanted. His eyes were a deep dark storm, glued to your parted lips as you moaned out for him, your perfect little cunt pulsating around him. Jungkook could only think about how wonderful you felt, how he couldn’t find someone better even if he tried. “Is this pussy mine? Was it made for me?”
Jungkook was fucking you so well that you could not help but nod, a pathetic whimper tearing itself from your throat as your hands fumbled to hold onto the nape of his neck. Your nails scratched his skin, the sensation making him groan. 
“Yeah, it’s yours.” You said it because you knew that it was all pretend, all his weird possessiveness that he only showed when he was hitting that deep inside you. Jungkook also knew that it was bullshit — but he allowed himself to dive into that fantasy as he felt himself throb inside you. “Fuck, Jungkook, I’m really close.” 
But he didn’t relent. Jungkook shoved his head on the curve of your neck, grunting as he quickened his pace in and out of you. He could feel your thighs trembling, your pussy fluttering around him, and yet it didn’t feel like it was enough. “Say it again,” he roared, hands digging to the flesh of your hips. It would leave a mark, both of you were aware of that, and yet there was a shared sense of wonder when you saw the purple bruises that he would leave behind. “Say that it’s mine.” 
“This pussy is yours, Jungkook,” you whined, head pressed hard against the soft pillows. At that point, you’d say and do anything he asked you to. “O-Only yours.” 
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice hoarse and deep as sin. Jungkook was drilling into you like a madman, hoping that the ache between your legs would be enough to remind you of him, of what he could do to you. He wanted you to keep that in the back of your head next time you had to pick between him and some other dude who wouldn’t know how to treat you. “All mine, this is all mine. Made for me.” 
He quickly got lost in his own praises, mind whitening out at the pleasure that monopolized his body. When you came around him, just as perfectly as you had many times before, Jungkook felt a wave of pride washing over him. It pierced its sharp teeth in his flesh, sucked him out of his worries — suddenly he didn’t give a shit about Jimin from your Wednesday class, because he knew that no amount of stupid coffee dates would ever equate to the way he had you. It was just a matter of time before you realized that as well. 
He felt you shivering beneath him, the way you always did when your pleasure was starting to become a bit too much. Jungkook leaned back so he could see your face, that blushy mess that got him sinking deeper inside you, the thin veil of tears that swam over your unfocused eyes. He would bet real money that Jimin from Wednesday class wouldn’t get you like that in a million years. Not that he was jealous or anything. It was just a fact. 
“J-Jungkook, that’s too much,” you whined. 
And he knew that it was, but he also wanted you to feel it all, and wanted you to cum around him as many times as you could. After all, you finally had some alone time, so he was definitely going to make good use of it. 
“Take it for me, baby,” he asked breathlessly, the rising pitch of his voice signaling that he was close too. Jungkook could feel his own orgasm growing closer, building up at the base of his spine and tugging at his balls, threatening to overflow. “Because I’m not done with you yet.” 
You bit your lip, fighting against a sob as he continued his frantic movements. You wanted to be good for him, wanted to fight through that sensitivity for him. But sometimes it was hard to focus, and the space between the pain and the pleasure could be a bit too long sometimes. “A-Are you close?” You asked. 
“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” he spat. Jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on your own, watching as a coat of desperation painted your features. “What’s the matter, baby? You don’t wanna get eaten out after I’m done here?” 
“God, Jungkook,” you said. If you weren’t so lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, you’d probably argue with him further, perhaps try and ask for the millionth time what had possessed him. But you seriously couldn’t be bothered with any more arguments and your brain wasn’t fully functional yet, so you settled for a quick and objective, “Are you trying to kill me?” 
Jungkook chuckled, lowering himself so he could place a kiss against your lips. “I'm trying to make you feel good. Let me eat my cum out of you, baby,” he teased, feeling as your walls pulsated around him at the idea. The fact that he hadn’t cum yet was a miracle on its own, because he had been about to tip over for a while now. “Unless you want to keep it inside you.” 
The interesting part was that Jungkook didn’t fully understand his second option until it had spilled from his lips. Now that it had been spoken out loud, manifested into the universe if you will, it made his cock throb with the mental imagery of you walking around stuffed with his cum, making other guys think they had a chance when you were already his. He’d seriously have to try that sometime. 
Before he could stop himself, his hooded eyes centralized on the hickeys he had embellished your neck with, and his marking was enough to make him spill himself inside you, painting your walls with waves of his warm cum. Jungkook called out what sounded like a broken version of your name, throwing his head back and listening to the wonderful whimpers you were producing for him. Just for him. 
At that point, both of you were considering buying your roommate something as a way to thank her for her wonderful idea of a spiritual retreat. 
Jungkook breathed out hard and removed his cock from your pussy, watching as the white liquid dripped between your glistening folds, accumulating on the sheets. If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d probably have yelled at him for ruining your mattress. 
“Have you made up your mind?” He asked, flickering his gaze up at you. You were such a pretty mess, and he lived for the fact that it was all because of him. “Wanna keep it in or want me to eat it out?” 
Honestly, he realized there was no wrong choice and, yet, he wanted to know what you would pick. 
You bit your lip and, after a moment of hesitation, you answered. “Eat it out,” you said. 
Jungkook smirked, lowering his head between your legs. “Good girl.” 
Jungkook saw you wearing a scarf the next day and he wanted to smack himself across the face for not considering that possibility. It hid all his efforts to mark you, didn’t make you nervous talking to other people. He could see from the faint coat of sweat on your face that you were feeling hot, but he also saw you smirking at him enough times to know that you were planning to endure that for as long as necessary. He was stupid to believe he’d actually get what he wanted for once: it had been too easy. 
He really fucking hated the wintertime. 
Check out the rest of the bad influence collection! 
Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith​ @fan-ati–c​ @btstrasht​ @crazy4myself​ @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky
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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago
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𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘃𝗲
𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || Steve’s life takes a quantum leap when he finds you unconscious on the beach.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || ANGST (with a happy ending)
This is the second part of six feet under.
I know I broke your hearts, so here comes the second part to mend it! I hope you love this!
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“You are my mission.”
Steve felt as if the walls of his heart were pricked by a thousand needles. It ached too much for him to bear. Unable to look in your eyes, he cried in his own palms.
The Asset wasn’t built to show emotions, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at the picture in front of you; your mission had just dropped down on his knees and was pathetically sobbing.
Why wasn’t your target fighting. You were informed that he was great at hand combat but not really outstanding with guns. So why wasn’t he attacking you as expected. Why was he showing you his back in surrender?
You were told what to do if the mission fought. But you weren’t informed what to do if he just... surrendered.
Walking close to your mission where he was crouching down, you stared at him for a moment. You weren’t wearing your combat gear, and neither was he. You both were instead dressed in far from modest clothes.
You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to harm him in any way. With the way he was trusting you, you could’ve killed him within seconds. But yet your heart somehow ached at his situation.
When he didn’t even look up, you nudged his thigh with your left foot. When your mission finally looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and he was incessantly crying.
“Fight me.” You said as he just stared at you. Your blank gaze terrified Steve more than any alien or villain ever had. You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to fight you. You weren’t able to attack him if he just gave up.
Steve blinked his eyes as he took in your words. Why weren’t you killing him? He had surrendered to you and yet you were just looking back at him instead of fighting. Why did you want him to fight you?
“No.” Steve had never thought love would be his weakness. Or maybe he had never truly realised it. Steve loved Bucky as a friend and had rained hell when his friend was in danger.
And here he had signed off his soul in your name. He would literally bring you the moon and stars if you asked to. And he would bare his throat for you to slash through. But he couldn’t possibly ever hurt you.
“I said fight me.” Steve Rogers, your mission was supposed to fight you. Not just sit down and take whatever you gave him. You didn’t know why you were angry at his lack of self preservation.
What happened next was within the blink of an eye. Steve’s arm shot up and curled around your wrist. And with a quick pull, he pulled your entire body down.
His agility took you by shock and before you could react, you were down on the ground pressed against the floor with him straddling you. Taking both of your hands in his, he pinned them above your head, making sure you were immobile.
You were royally fucked. Your handlers wouldn’t take it lightly if you messed up. And that was if you reached them in one piece. Chances were you were gonna die here, right under Steve Rogers.
You opened your mouth to bite and hiss and Steve took the opportunity and dove right in. You stilled with surprise when you felt the captain’s plump lips right against yours. This man was super insane.
You mercilessly but his lower lip and ended up drawing blood. But as soon as he started licking in your mouth with his tongue, you melted right on the spot.
The warmth of his mouth slowly brought back the warmth of your memories. Steve felt you go pliant under him for some moments before you started fiercely kissing him back.
You entwined your fingers with his and gently pressed your tongue against the bite mark on his lips. You didn’t notice the tears that slipped through your eyes and how they mixed with Steve’s own tears falling against your face.
“Steve.” You called his name just like you always did. With love and belonging. He opened his eyes to see you staring right back at him with your lively eyes.
Steve had never been happier before. Pressing his forehead against yours, he just breathed you in for a moment. “Steve.” Your hand was now caressing his face.
Your eyes peering into each other were enough to convey the million thoughts you had and the thousand things you wanted to say. Pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, he got up and you followed him.
You both sat on the floor with your legs crossed, you kept some space between you two. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Steve repeated as he broke down once again.
You hushed him and held him in your arms until he calmed down. “I shouldn’t have done that, but… but I wanted to know.” Steve couldn’t ever forget how your face had morphed into that of betrayal as he recited the words.
“But I want to know one thing. Do you love me? Or… or is it some tactic of hydra to ruin me?” You wanted to slap Steve for asking this stupid ass question. Of course you loved him!
But then you realised where he was emotionally. If you were in his position then maybe even you would fear the same. “It’s real Steve. It’s definitely real.”
You framed his face with your hands and caressed your thumb over his cheeks. “Steve, I love you. And by ‘I’, I mean Y/N and Soldat. My soul belongs to you, no matter it’s name.
How can you doubt our love when it was the only thing that brought me back?” It was true, you wouldn’t have remembered anything if Steve hadn’t kissed you.
You could see the colour fill in Steve’s face. He pulled you in a bear hug and held you tight. “I love you. I love you.” Steve chanted in your ear just like before.
Once you were both calm enough to think straight, you decided to go out on the beach. You sat in the sand with your head tilted on Steve’s shoulder as the sea breeze kissed your wet cheeks.
“I barely remember who I was before all this Steve. I can only remember glimpses of the shield and the avengers. I’m no more the Y/N you once saw.”
Steve was silent as he listened to each and every word of yours. He wanted to say so many things back, but he knew he had to listen to you first.
“But I remember how they took me Steve. It was probably my third official shield mission and we had all thought that base was not active. But when we broke in, the operatives were waiting just for us.
It was trap and we fell willingly into it. The others managed to escape, but… but I couldn’t. And they took me Steve. I… I waited for you people.
I still remember shivering in that cold cell all alone, praying for you to find me. But you never came. And with time I just kept forgetting until I couldn’t remember anymore.” Your voice cracked yet you kept going.
“Even after you retired, you still were hydra’s number one target. It’s almost personal now. It took them some time, but they finally traced you and they knew you were alone.
I was supposed to use a boat as long as I was out of visibility and then swim till the shore so that you wouldn’t notice me. But I miscalculated the current and the rocks on the shore.
After I abandoned my boat, I jumped into the water and got caught in the water currents. It was a terrifying experience, just spinning wildly underwater as the water took you.
But I was oddly at peace as I thought finally I would be free. But then I hit my head on the rocks and got washed up. And I woke up remembering absolutely nothing in your warm bed.”
“I’m sorry.” Steve couldn’t ever forgive himself for all that had happened to you. He was sure shield must have tried their best, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure they must’ve tried.” You both sat quietly staring at the calm ocean which reflected the night sky.
“Do you still love me?” You asked with a dejected sigh. “I’ll always love you.” Steve replied pulling you closer. “Even after knowing who I am and what I was here for?”
“You could’ve easily completed your mission. I know you are capable enough of doing that. But, you did not. You couldn’t harm me even when I openly surrendered to you.
So yes, I still very much love you and I’ll stay by your side forever.” The last word pierced through your heart like a knife. You couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“Steve, I… I have to go.” Steve looked at you quizzically. “Where?” You gulped audibly before meekly replying, “Hydra.” You could feel his body tense.
“You aren’t going back there, no matter what.” You wanted to believe Steve’s words, but you knew that couldn’t happen.
“I’ve tried to run away. So many times. But they always find me. They’ll find me this time too. And if they find me, they’ll find you too and I can’t let that happen.
I won’t be able to live if something happened to you. I’ll never forgive myself. And that’s why I need to go.” If this sacrifice was going to keep Steve safe, then so be it.
“Nothing will happen to me. And if they come, we will fight them. Together. And nothing and no one can stop us if we are with each other. Stay with me, please!”
You kissed his cheek to stop him from pleading anymore. You couldn’t tolerate the man you loved begging you. “I’ll… I’ll stay with you. I promise.”
Steve hugged you so tight, you wondered if you broke some bones. But being in the arms of the man who loved you, felt better than heaven itself. It was a different kind of a feeling, one that no words could ever describe.
“Steve, what do you think about Paris? I’ve always wanted to go there.” You asked as you both sat silently on the beach, basking in each other’s presence.
“I’ve always thought about visiting Louvre too. But I never really got the chance.” Even as a sickly kid, Steve wanted to get mesmerised by the art in the famous museum.
“And what about Sydney? Or Amsterdam? Or Barcelona?” Your eyes lit up like an excited kid. “What about all of them?” Steve jested.
Steve wanted to travel the world too. In a sense he already had, but it was always for some mission and never for the sake of relaxation. “Yeah, we could do that!” You exclaimed as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you.
It would be a new beginning for both of you. A new life away from your tainted past. A fresh canvas to paint with the colours of your own choice. A much needed restart that both you and Steve needed.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s pack our bags!”
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aerynwrites · 3 years ago
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When The Dust Settles || Jayvik
Jayce x Viktor
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A/N: This takes place just after the ending of epsiode 9 in the aftermath of the rocket hitting the council chamber. Some angst followed by sweet hurt comfort. This is my first time writing a ship fic so I really hope you all enjoy! I would love to hear what you all think! also huge thanks to @thedreamlessnights​ for listening to me rant and rave about Jayvik xD
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, the divorce era doesn’t exist in my house, they will be happy forever if I have a say so.
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Jayce has never believed in the silly tales people tell about death. Never accepted the idea that life flashes before your eyes when death is imminent or that times appear to slow down as one's doom approaches. 
But the image of that rocket, that blue haze in the otherwise blood-red sky… does make time slow for Jayce. Suddenly he's thrown back in time as the window of the council chamber shatters into a million tiny pieces. 
He remembers the night he almost took his life, remembers the golden eyes of the man who saved him and has stayed by his side ever since. He remembers the sting of glass cutting his cheeks as his theory finally came to fruition in the darkened room of the Academy. Blue light explodes around them as two bodies are launched into the air. 
But it's different now. Time slows just enough for him to glance at his partner; brown irises meet amber ones before he's falling. They're both airborne again like that time all those years ago, but this time the ground rushes up to meet them. Then everything is dark…dark and quiet and still.
Until it isn't.
Screams and blasting horns ring in his ears as his eyes try to peel open. They are far off; at least they feel that way. But they are loud enough to push past the ringing in his ears and the pounding in his head. He tries to take a breath, but dust coats his tongue, and a sharp pain in his side rips a cry from his throat. 
He should be worried about himself, the apparent broken rib, the pounding in his head, and his swimming vision. But only one word runs through his mind. One name. The only person that matters. 
"Viktor…" his voice is weak, barely even a whimper as the words get caught in his dust-coated throat. 
Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Where is he? 
There. He's there. Jayce sees him as he forces himself into his side, swallowing the groan that bubbles in his chest as he does so.
Oh, gods… he's so still. Why is he so still? Is he…? No. He can't be. 
The screams are still there; he can see other bodies on the floor. Can hear them moaning in pain or crying out for one another. But he can't find it in him to care. He just needs…he needs to get to Viktor. Now. 
He practically pulls himself across the floor, acutely aware of searing pain in one of his legs. His fingers dig into the cracked ground, slipping against the rubble and dust that covers it in layers. He's closer now, and he nearly cries out when he sees the slow rise and fall of Viktor's chest. 
"Viktor!" He calls out again, trying to stir him to consciousness, wanting nothing more than to hear his voice. "Wake up, Viktor-"He calls out to the man he loves, now within reach to lay panicked hands on his arm. 
Jayce finally looks up from him, sheer panic and dread fueling his motivations. He needs someone, anyone, to help him. They need medical attention; they need help from someone - anyone. 
But no one is coming. Not now, at least. The far wall of the council chamber is gone, obliterated by whatever was fired at them. A sizeable hole has opened up in the floor where the council typically sits, and Jayce swallows hard, trying not to think of who the gaping maw swallowed up. Jayce turns back to Viktor, his panic quelled only because his chest still moved up and down. 
He scoots closer, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg as he manages to move into a sitting position, resting against a chunk of rubble that just missed him and Viktor. 
He places shaking hands beneath Viktor's arms, pulling him as gently as possible until he's cradled in Jayce's arms. He's heavy, completely dead weight as Jayce holds him closer, eyes flicking over his form to try and take stock of any injuries he has. 
Jayce immediately notices the sickening wet matte of chestnut hair on Viktor's temple. Crimson streaks down his face, leaving tracks in the dust coating his skin. 
Jayce feels his breathing pick up, flames of fear licking at his mind again as he sees this. He swallows thickly, the spit going down like glue in his throat, as he rests a hand on Viktor's cheek. 
He's breathing. He's still breathing. He's alive. He's okay.
"Viktor, please…please wake up. I need to know-"Jayce nearly chokes on a sob that crawls up from within his chest. "You can't leave. Not now, please."
Jayce has never begged for anything in his life. Sure he's fought for things, but he's never begged. But now, it's all he can think to do. He would get down on his knees and grovel at the feet of whatever gods existed if it meant Viktor would be okay. He would do anything. 
He has so much he has to fix. So many things he needs to tell Viktor. How sorry he is for losing sight of their dream. Apologize for letting their relationship suffer because he was so consumed with greatness. 
He was so consumed that he let the greatest thing that happened to him slip through his fingers. 
Jayce didn't even realize tears had started to spill down his cheeks until they landed on Viktor. He immediately moves to wipe them away, smearing soot and dust across pale skin. 
He can't lose Viktor. He won't. If it means giving up his seat on the council. Giving up Hextech. He doesn't care…he won't lose Viktor. 
A ragged cough pulls him from his thoughts, and his eyes lock onto the source of the sound. Viktor shakes in his grasp, shoulders heaving as he expels dust and contaminants from his lungs. 
Jayce shifts him in his arms as his cough subsides, holding him more securely, so Viktor can look at him. Pools of gold rise slowly to meet his own, and Jayce can't stop the sob this time. Relief rushes through his veins as Viktor brings a hand up to rest atop his. 
"What happened?" His accent is thick on his tongue, words slurred slightly as he fights back towards consciousness. 
But Jayce has never heard anything so beautiful. 
He shakes his head. "I don't know." He says honestly, just now realizing he has absolutely no clue what the hell happened. He was so concerned with Viktor that he didn't even stop to think about it or try to find answers. 
Viktor's eyes close as another bout of coughs shake his frame. He only speaks when they subside. "Are you alright?" 
Jayce nods, more tears dripping from his eyes at the movement. He wraps his hand around Viktor's chilled one when the man gives him a confused look. 
"Why are you crying?" He asks, concern lacing his noticeably less slurred words. "Are you hurt?" 
"Nothing I can't handle," Jayce assured him. "I was…I thought you were - were…." He swallows the words, unable to say them without bringing forth another wave of fear. 
Viktor's lips twitch up in a smile. As much of one he can muster despite whatever pain he must be experiencing. "You can't…" he trails off as he takes a deep breath. "You can't get rid of me that easily." 
The laugh Jayce lets out is wet with tears and makes him grimace at the pain it causes in his side. But he can't be happier. 
"Of course not," he says, a smile on his own on his face. "You foiled my whole plan." 
Viktor lets out a huff but doesn't say much else, so Jayce takes this moment to rest his forehead against Viktor’s, eyes slipping closed in relief. 
"I was so scared." He admits, voice a mere whisper. "I thought I lost you." 
Shaky fingers slide against Jayce's cheek, and he subconsciously leans into the palm that settles there, relishing in the contact. 
"I'm here," Viktor assures him, hand sliding further so his fingers can tangle in Jayce's hair at the base of his neck. "I'm not going anywhere. Not willingly." 
Jayce nods slightly. "I know." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Vik," he says, everything he wanted to say spilling out before he can stop it. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry that I let the council cloud my judgment. I'm sorry for everything, for being gone. For the things I said." He chokes back another sob as Viktor's fingers press into the back of his neck. "I'm so sorry. Please, I hope you can forgive-"
Warm lips stop the fountain of apologies in their tracks, and Jayce can taste the salt of his tears as Viktor kisses him. Jayce pulls him closer, eyes screwing closed as he kisses him back. He would mold himself to Viktor if he could, stay with him always, for the rest of eternity if it were possible. 
And at this moment, he pretends it is. 
He can feel the grit of dust and rubble on his teeth, can taste the metallic tang of blood, but he doesn't even care. Because Viktor is alive. 
He's here. He's here, breathing, alive, and doesn't completely hate me. 
And he'll do everything to keep it that way. 
Viktor is the first to pull away, but he doesn't go far. Jayce can still feel his breath on his cheek and how Viktor's lips brush against his as he speaks. 
"There's nothing to forgive," Viktor says simply, leaning to rest his head against Jayce's chest, exhaustion evident in his eyes. 
Jayce says nothing because there's nothing he can say to that. So instead, he pulls Viktor that much closer and takes a deep breath. 
New shouts finally started to replace the ones that had faded from the council chamber. An army of footsteps grows louder with each passing moment, and Jayce realizes help has finally arrived. 
They would get out of here. Alive. And Jayce would spend every moment he could fighting to keep them both that way. 
No matter what it takes.
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago
Text
The Island | KTH (One)
Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.
Word Count: 9.3k
Warnings: swearing
Notes: Alright here is the first ch to my new story! I am super nervous to post this because it is a completely different vibe. But I hope you guys enjoy! Don’t worry, it turns fluffier later:) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)
Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14
© taestefully-in-luv
Next
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Your room is blinding from the soft yet striking sunrise, each beam of light swims through the blinds in piercing waves. The intense glow hits you in your sleepy state, causing you to wake from your glorious slumber. Too bright. You sit up in your bed, attempting to rub away the sleep that crusts your eyes. You begin to slowly open one lid at a time, taking in the neat appearance of your room. Your room looks the same as always—there is a nightstand next to your wooden framed bed, it holds a pale lamp and a photo of mountainous scenery. A dresser sits comfortably in front of you, it is dressed in simple décor and a large mirror. Yup, the same as always. You glance over to your sheer curtained window where the sun very offendedly washes over the room—wait. Hold on a god damn second.
Quickly, you begin to open your eyes just a bit wider—where is your royal purple ottoman? The art that hangs on your walls? Your dresser is brown not black for Christ’s sake! You ball your hand in the sheets…these don’t even feel like your sheets, yours aren’t this silky. This is not your room. Your eyebrows climb to the top of your forehead as you jerk your head around. Where the hell are you? Suddenly, you feel something rustle against your side. No…not something—someone.
Your eyes dart to the right of you, where this someone moves against the sheets. Not just someone. A man. His dark, ruffled hair sticks out between the sheets and pillow below his head. Why is there a man in bed with you? Is it…his bed? Oh god. Immediately, your mind tries to recall the night before. Did you go out and drink too much? Go home with a rando? Super unlike you though. You pull your hair as your mind races.
Sitting up in bed, worry crosses all of your features. You try to face all the possibilities that could maybe end up being your reality. But going out and partying is nowhere in your memories. You begin gnawing on your bottom lip, knowing you stayed home last night. And that you fell asleep in your own bed…alone, you might add. So where the hell are you? And why is there another person? Fear enters the picture now, this is the last place you wanted to go. You know, that horrible, terrible, dark place? The one that says your reality is that some creepy man kidnapped you and plans on doing murder-y type things to you. Yup, that place.
You tug on the end of your hair again, you know, you know, a bad habit. But you can’t help it as anxiety grows deeper within you. Were you really kidnapped? Fuck. You have to think. You’re trying to, at least. But breathing is becoming a chore. Your breaths are quick and sharp like you are on the brink of a panic attack. Shit, maybe you are. You try to eye the room again, taking in its appearance more carefully. You can’t help the shiver that speeds down your spine when you notice how perfect this single bedroom is…it actually almost resembles your guest bedroom at home. Which is creepy in itself. You continue to eye the room curiously, while staying absolutely frozen.
The dresser has more photos of pretty scenery sitting on top, as well as a few small vases that complement the rest of the décor. Anxiety continues to grow within you, shaking you to the core. You hate the way your hands tremble in your lap. You want to do something. You truly do but fuck, you can’t even move a muscle. Your breathing begins to pick up even more. Where are you? Why are you here? Who is this man sleeping so fucking peacefully next to you? Your thoughts are going 100 miles per minute, screaming at you, taunting you, giving you the middle finger.
Before you can think through your many obvious questions and answer them, the man next to you begins to stir in his sleep. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly moves to his back from his side. You stare down at him, too scared to move. Too scared to scream bloody murder. Too scared to do anything. And nothing disappoints you more. That you are nothing but a coward. You look down at your future murderer and wait for him to wake.
Future murderer slowly opens his eyes but he shies away instantly from the beaming sunlight.
“Ahhhh.” He lets go in one long breath, rubbing at his eyes in a sleepy manner. You sit still, your own breath caught in your throat. You want to move but fear has you frozen like an evening in the arctic. The man, or Future Murderer as you seemed to have named him, begins sitting up, stretching his arms out above him and yawns a song of sleep. He finally opens his eyes fully and soaks in the room before him. His head moves around quickly, his expression becoming rather…confused.
“What the fuck?”
Yup, those are his first words. Should have been yours too, if you’re being honest. This guy gets it.
Future Murderer’s facial expression grows bewildered as he looks around the room and when he finally feels your presence, he turns his head your way.
“Uh…” the Murderer narrows his eyes at you, “Hi?”
You don’t even realize the sigh of relief that pushes past your lips, but his confusion seems���genuine. And this allows you to relax your shoulders a little bit. Maybe he is a victim to whatever is going on too? You take in his disheveled appearance; he has brown wavy hair that rests above his brow line, eyes darker than the deepest part of the sea and full pouting lips. You would totally admit he’s attractive as hell but considering the fact you’re trying to convince yourself he isn’t going to murder you and the state you’re in, you’re going to push that thought away.
“Uh, who are you?” His brows knit together as he expectantly waits for an answer.
“No, who are you?” You squint at him. How dare he ask like you aren’t the one totally frazzled here? But somehow it’s comforting that he seems as confused as you are. Mystery man (his new name, since he doesn’t appear to want to murder you) (maybe) raises a single brow at you before answering,
“Taehyung.”
You listen to his name roll off his tongue and absorb it. Taehyung, huh? You hesitate for a second before finally giving your own name.
“y/n.”
Taehyung then, has the audacity to pinch his nose in annoyance. To be fair, it looks like the one he’s annoyed with is himself and not you.
“Look, sorry…” he begins, “If we hooked up last night, I don’t really remember and I—"
Your eyes widen at his words and you begin to frantically shake your head,
“No! We didn’t—we didn’t…”
“Oh?” Taehyung gives you a curious look then has the audacity to scoot several inches away from you. Then you feel his eyes on you, they search you from head to toe. You’re wearing your cat printed PJ shorts and a simple purple t shirt. You admit your hair is probably pretty wild, so you card your fingers through your locks. You start to feel insecure under his gaze as he so shamelessly eyes you.
“I don’t know who you are or where I am…do you know where we are?” you question, looking off to the side.
Taehyung pulls his eyes away from you, his head moving around to look around the room, his arms flailing.
“Does it look like I know where I am?”
You only blink at him and he rolls his eyes, “No, I don’t.” he admits.
Moments of silence pass between the two of you. You don’t know what to say at this point even though you have a million things you would like to say. But you can’t form one, coherent sentence apparently. You don’t know anything. You’re fucking clueless and you hate it. You’re trying to gather your thoughts when you feel Taehyung rise from the bed, startling you like he just committed a crime. God, you are such a coward. What? Do you really think the bed is apparently some super safe place that will protect you from the evils of the world? Taehyung walks toward the dresser and other corners of the room, inspecting it carefully.
“Fucking weird, but nice room, right?” he asks under his breath. Taehyung throws a glance over at you. “You don’t know where you are…I don’t know where I am…we both wake up in a strange room and neither of us have any recollection of how we got here.” Taehyung takes a pause to gather his thoughts. “Have you heard anything? You know, from outside the room? There could be other people.” He waits for you to answer but you stay quiet. Yes, you are on that level of coward.
You stay in the bed, anxiety building up, growing fiercer by the second. While it seems Taehyung’s attention is being stolen by the large window where the sun invites him to come take a peak. He tip toes over to the window, lifting the blinds and exposes something you imagine takes his breath way due to his audible gasp.
“Where…the fuck are we?” he asks breathlessly.
Instead of looking for yourself, you stay seated. But are we surprised? You study Taehyung’s expressions, watching for his reactions. His face falls into one of awe but after only a few moments in settles back into confusion. He reaches for the bottom of the window sill and lifts upwards, opening the window and releasing the sound of…is that waves? You continue to observe him, too afraid to see for yourself. He stands there for several long moments before turning your way and he clears his throat.
“I—I don’t…I don’t know where we are, like, really.” He takes a hesitant step towards the bed. “But something tells me neither of us are from here.”
You need a minute. Yeah, you need a minute to process his words. Because what the fuck does he mean by that? You aren’t ‘from here’? Are you on another planet or some shit? This man needs to work on his wording, for Christ’s sake. You feel your hand move just the slightest. Then your other hand. Your toes curl in and out. Seems you aren’t so frozen anymore. Things are, yes things as in waking up with a total stranger and him saying you are in an unknown place, are starting to wake you up. You’re so ashamed your solution to all of this was to stay seated in bed…but for some reason a rushing sensation of bravery washes over you.
You rise from the sheets and step one foot on to the floor. It’s not lava. So you step down with both feet and make your way over to Taehyung. You stop in front of him, tilting your head up since he has several inches over you—but nothing too intimidating, you decide. His eyes find yours and you lock eyes for a few moments. Both of you trying to search the other for answers. You break contact to face the window and wow. Your eyes animatedly widen at the sight. Palm trees and water for miles and miles it seems. No other buildings or sign of life. An island? But not the kind of island where this room is a part of some fancy resort, no, not that kind. Instead the kind where a plane crashes and a group of people have to survive.
You blink down at your new reality. First of all, you live nowhere near an island, so there’s that. You feel the anxiety and frustrations begin to surface again and you can’t help that your eyes begin to gloss over. You snap your head back to get a look at your fellow victim and he looks just as lost as you feel.
“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.
“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.
“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”
He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.
“Well, no. But—”
“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.
“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!
“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.
Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.
You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.
Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”
And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?
“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.
“Are you always such a fucking baby?”
“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head. Okay, you admit you aren’t being the most mature here. But Taehyung doesn’t seem to take offense to it by the way he gasps and throws a hand over his heart as if wounded.
“Oh? She’s got some sass?” His question and raised brows only piss you off.
“Whatever. Let’s go.” You aren’t entirely sure where the confidence comes from but you don’t question it. You’re breezing past him, your shoulder knocking into his as you approach the door.
You feel Taehyung’s eyes on you and hear him mumble a lame, ‘that’s the spirit’ from behind you. And with that, in one swift action you are opening the door.
You stand in the open doorway, once again frozen in place. Not feeling as confident as you were 15 second ago—maybe you just need this dude to piss you off again. Speak of the devil, Taehyung steps besides you, poking his head out into the hallway searching for any sign of life.
“It’s quiet.” He takes a few steps forward, now in the middle of the hall. You glance around, the hallway has walls full of beautiful artwork, and to the right is 3 doors and to the left is a wide staircase. An exit. Bingo.
“Let’s check each room.” And of course he wants to do the opposite.
“No, let’s just get out of here.”
You turn on your feet towards the stairs and stop at the first step and raise a brow over your shoulder, “Aren’t you coming?”
Taehyung looks conflicted to say the least. He exhales deeply, looking between you and the 3 doors.
“Shouldn’t we just—”
“No! come on…” You must sound pleading and convincing because you can see him falter, just a bit. “I just want to go home…” You say, averting his gaze. Taehyung only stares at you for what feels like an eternity before he’s finally agreeing with the nod of his head.
The two of you very cautiously step down the stairs, each foot that follows the other slightly trembles in the fear of the unknown. You two finally reach the bottom and your eyes go wide at the sight. This is basically your fucking dream house. The floor plan is very open. At the center is a gorgeous grand piano, you don’t play but it’s aesthetically pleasing you guess? To the right is a long table with picture frames and décor and down the hall there seems to be more rooms.
You scan the downstairs as you slide your fingers along the edge of this table and stop when you come across a framed photo. What the actual fuck. Your eyebrows rise and your eyes grow twice their size. You very hesitantly pick up the picture as your eyes blink down at the frame in hand when your breathing begins to pick up again. It’s a framed photo of you and your sister . Now why the hell would this be here? Why is there a picture of you and your sister?? Why would someone have this? The framed photo sits in your trembling hands as you stare down at it. Taehyung notices your shaky grip on this picture and takes it from you to take a look himself. His eyes also go wide…you look between him and the picture.
“Why…why the hell is this here?” your voice betrays you as it shakes with every word.
Taehyung glances down at the table and notices his own photos with friends and family that are disgustingly and proudly displayed.
“What the actual fuck?” Taehyung whispers to no one but himself. What the hell is going on? Why does this house have pictures of the two of you? Who is doing this? Is this some sort of sick joke?
“What’s happening Taehyung?” you step closer to him feeling entirely…creeped out.
“Does it look like I fucking know?” he snaps. He sees you flinch and his eyes soften, “Sorry…Its just… this is going too far.” He finally looks as disturbed as you feel. The two of you stay quiet for a few moments, neither of you knowing how to react to this eerie discovery.
You shudder at how ominous this all is. This is becoming way too much. How much more of this can you handle? You almost want to jump into this assholes arms and sob into his navy blue t shirt.
“We should…” Taehyung wipes his sweaty hands on his sweats, “keep going.”
The two of you nod your heads in unison and turn to your left where there is an entry way to the kitchen and living room. Taehyung stops before stepping through while you join him at his side. You two glance around to soak in your surroundings—it’s also an open space, the two open areas sharing a space. The kitchen is covered in black granite and wooden cabinets with a door that probably leads outside. The living room has two matching sofas, a wide screen TV that hangs on the wall over a fireplace and built in shelves on either side, full of books, movies and games.
Taehyung and you share a look before walking through to the kitchen and living room. You approach the rooms slowly and carefully, afraid of what you might find. What surprises could be lurking. Suddenly the white glow of the TV can be seen, making you jump with its sudden brightness. Why the hell did the TV just turn on? Is this like, a haunted house? Are you being fucking haunted? Okay, maybe that’s dramatic.
The screen is bright white with nothing else on it. You turn to face Taehyung who is already staring at you with brows pinched together in confusion. Same Taehyung, same. The two of you decide to walk closer to the TV when dark, bold numbers appear.
“10….9…8…..”
The sound of soft music can be heard playing from the TV, similar to the music that’s played in an elevator, as numbers counting down from 10 begins. You feel your insides twist and turn.
“….7….6…..”
Panicked, the two of you inch closer and closer. You two stand here waiting for something, anything to occur because these might be the longest 10 seconds of your life. The millions of questions you have only multiplying. With the seconds counting down and getting closer to zero, your breathing about fucking stops. What is going to happen? You can feel your palms grow sweaty as your heart beats out of your chest. It feels like the countdown to the end of the world.
“….5….4….3…”
You don’t think Taehyung realizes just how close he is to you, his shoulders bumping into yours. You guess fear does funny things even between strangers.
“….2…..1…….”
And then it finally happens. The timer finally reaches fucking zero. And it is safe to safe your attention has been caught…anyone’s would be if a screen greets them with their god damn names.
“Welcome Kim Taehyung and Y/N Y/LN”
Your names on the screen has you automatically feeling nauseas. What sort of sick game is this? Is someone setting you up? Pranking you? If so, shits not funny. But also, why is Taehyung here? Your eyes focus on the screen as it moves to the next slide.
“It is a great honor that you two have made it this far. You have been carefully selected in this company’s project. After a lot of consideration and impressive results—we have decided to move you to the next phase.”
Naturally, very naturally you become even more confused than you fucking started. What projects? What company? You can hear Taehyung swallow hard, his nerves spiking with each word he reads. Then the slides continue.
“To put it simply, we are in the business of love.”
Huh? Huh?
Taehyung and you break your focus on the screen to steal a glance as one another very briefly before turning your heads back to the TV. What the hell they mean love? What is this absolute nonsense?
“Our use of science, technology and logic has got us here today. We test and heavily observe our chosen subjects and decide if they are the perfect match. We then move them to the final phase: The Island. This is where the two subjects meet and get along for the first time. The place they will undoubtedly fall in love.”
You can’t help that your mouth falls open, you are sure your eyes are bulging out of your head. You dare to turn to look at Taehyung and he isn’t looking much better.
Before you can really gather any thoughts the slides continue.
“Our success rate is 99%. You WILL fall in love here, it is most probable. Other subjects will come to fall in love quickly, other will take their time. BUT don’t take too long~ If two subjects are taking too long to make progress we will send a ‘Request’ to move things along and if you fail to meet said request there will be a penalty. And you have 24 hours to complete the request. This is to help you.”
You shiver while reading the words before you. You are now too anxious to even look at Taehyung right now…you don’t want to even see his reaction to all of this. Is he anxious like you? Is he laughing because there’s no way this is real? Is he nodding along taking notes because he believes it? You don’t want to fucking know!
“We give soulmates the opportunity to meet and thrive. This particular project has been in the works for well over a year.”
You blink lazily at that. Well over a year? WELL OVER A YEAR? They’ve been watching you for over a year?!
“We have carefully observed each one of you in great detail. There is nothing we don’t know. We have matched you two to be most compatible.”
Nothing they don’t know? What the hell does that mean? How exactly did they fucking observe you two? You stand here with eyes wide open and mouth agape. Taehyung mirrors your expression. He doesn’t want to believe this either.
“And you two are finally ready to proceed with The Island.”
The two of you stand in the living room, dumbstruck. Absolutely dumbstruck. You aren’t even able to look at one another for more than a hot second. A harsh blush creeping on your face and you cringe because there’s no way you could blush for this asshole.
You just…you cannot believe any of this. You refuse to. This is ridiculous. Insane.
“This island is only for the two of you. Designed specifically for you. You are being constantly monitored. Hidden cameras are placed all around the house. Minus the bedrooms and bathrooms. The décor and food is to each of your likings, we want you to feel at home as possible. Everything including books, movies, games and rooms are to your likings and match your hobbies.”
Wait a minute. You frantically shake your head, blinking furiously. Constantly being monitored? AKA you’re being fucked spied on? How are you supposed to do anything knowing you’re being watched?
“Your families have already been notified of your absence.”
You feel your heart drop. You didn’t even consider how they might feel.
“You will return safely once we feel we are satisfied with the results. This can be 3 months, 6 months, a year or even more.”
You feel Taehyung spin to face you in complete shock.
“We understand this may seem awkward at first but things will evolve naturally. So you should not worry.”
These words do not bring the least bit of comfort.
“Besides the ‘Requests’ we will not interfere. This is YOUR time to fall in love.”
“Thank you so much for your ongoing participation and please enjoy your new home and of course, each other. <3”
The added heart at the end of the last slide has both of you scrunching your faces in disgust. With that, the TV shuts off, showing nothing but the dark black screen and the reflection of two ghosts. What. The. Fuck.
You’re sure your expression is as clear as day; a mix between anger and hopelessness. You don’t want to look at Taehyung, not after everything you just read but you know you should. So you tip your head to the side to get a good look at him. Worry. All you see is worry. Look, he might be hot as hell but there ain’t no way you can fall in love with this dude. But also, you don’t know anything. You gulp, there is one thing you know. You’re going to be sick.
Your nausea is so built up, it’s at the entrance of your throat begging for release. You stand here, running a clammy hand through your hair. You are going to puke, you know it.
Without any further thinking, you run towards the back door in the kitchen that thankfully leads to outside. You run down a path that you pray to the God’s that this path does lead to the ocean so you can drown yourself in some good ol’ waves. Your anxiety has you out of breath before the run does. You finally reach sand that is warm and grainy under your bare feet and follow it to the shore.
It’s beautiful actually. The view. You wish you could really take it all in and let the calmness of the waves relax you but you are seconds away from upchucking last night’s pizza rolls. But it never comes. Your guts never make it out of your body but the anxiety remains. Falling to the ground, you pull your knees into your chest, trying to breathe and most importantly trying not to cry. This is no use though and to be honest you don’t try very hard because tears are cascading down your face within seconds. You can feel the burning in your chest as hot tears fall onto the warmth of your cheeks and it breaks you further. You sit here and wonder if you are really stuck here in this place and with a complete and total stranger. The same thought stays with you as you ball into yourself.
You sit here, indulging in quiet sobs until they finally ease into soft sniffles. You reach up to wipe your eyes, ridding yourself of tears and the thoughts that came along with them. You need to think more clearly. Okay, positive thoughts. Come on y/n, you can do this. Positive thoughts. First off, you’re not alone. You are not the only victim here. You have an acquaintance here who you are sure isn’t very pleased about this either. But wait—would if this guy is a total weirdo? A psycho? Okay, maybe being positive is harder than you thought. Plus he was a total asshole to you earlier. But maybe that will change?
You stand to your feet, feeling more determined than before. You are going to try to make the best out of this shitty situation. You brush away the annoying leftover grains of sand from your legs and your behind and turn around to make your journey back to the house, your ‘home’. Ew, you did not just call it that, you shudder at the thought. Before you start walking, you spot Taehyung aka your ‘soulmate’ ew, you did not just him call him that— sitting, leaning against a tree. Yup, right next to where you just had snot running down your nose. Before spiraling into embarrassment, you take a good look at him and oh. You step towards him and his eyes follow your movements until you are seated next to him. He’s tense, that’s for sure. But you can’t really blame him, now can you? You are a little bit selfish, aren’t you? He is clearly freaking out too yet you ran out on him. You can see his expressions now: confused, anger, upset. And something you can’t quite figure out.
Taehyung looks your way and offers you a small, tense smile and then turns his head away from you to face the ocean again, a sigh escaping his lips.
“I’m not going to fall in love with you.”
You really don’t want to feel offended because hey, that’s fair. But still, this asshole doesn’t even know you so you roll your eyes.
“I’m not going to fall in love with you dude.”
Taehyung glances at you and gives you a look, like he knows that’s impossible.
“Sure.” He says.
“You don’t fall in love with me.” You snap back, feeling like you won something.
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem.” He deadpans.
“Listen…you’re not a psycho, are you?” You narrow your eyes at him. Taehyung stares at you for a second before he dramatically rolls his eyes at you, then he narrows his own eyes.
“I’m not a psycho,” he defends, a serious expression drawn on his face. “But how do I know you’re not?”
You bite down on your lip as if really contemplating,
“Fair point.” You smile cheekily but then your face falls into a frown. “This isn’t…real, right?” you try to brush back your hair behind your ear but the wind makes it difficult. “The TV…this is a joke, right?”
Taehyung looks on towards the ocean, the big blue waves crashing in the distance. He is silent for several long, annoyingly long moments. You can’t help but wonder what goes inside his head, what is he thinking? What is he feeling? It’s got to be similar to you, right?
“Let’s say it is real. There’s a company who…who…spied on us for a year. What does that mean? They hacked our phones? Hacked our homes? How far did they go? They said they know everything…” Taehyung pauses, flinching at his own words. “So, say they do. They believe after all their research we make a good match…the perfect match, apparently.”
“Yeah, I highly doubt that.” You cut in. “We couldn’t even get along in the first 10 minutes—”
“That’s because you were being a baby.”
“That’s because you were being a—Shut up.” You huff.
“Who’s being rude now?” Taehyung smirks. “Listen, I think it’s best if we just play it safe. But I am serious…I won’t be falling in love with you. And I am not a psycho.”
“And I am serious too, I won’t.” you remind him, annoyed. “It’s you who should be careful.” You poke your tongue out and Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“So do you like pancakes? Mister Not Psycho.” You look at him with a playful smirk and he wastes no time to curve his lips downwards.
“Pancakes?” he lifts his brows but then a scowl takes over, “I’m not falling in love with you even if you make me pancakes. I still can’t get over this…they spied on us for a year y/n. Invaded our privacy…this is too much. Too much to be thinking about god damn pancakes”
“Yeah but it seems like we’re stuck together,” you reason, “Whether we like it or not. So you can maybe try not to be such an asshole to me? When I’m just as much of a victim as you are. And we still have to eat.”
Taehyung’s mouth drops a little, then he closes it, screwing his eyes shut. “You’re right…I’m sorry,” he stands to his feet. “This is all just so crazy and a lot to take in…”
“I know…” you pause, “It’s sort of like being on a vacation—”
“Just stop.”
Taehyung walks past you, heading back inside the house. Leaving you alone with nothing but the ocean.
You stare off into the wide unknown, the oceans blue emptiness swallowing you whole. This looks like a dream vacation spot, if you’re being honest. But this? This was about to be the vacation from Hell.
~~~~~~~~
You and Taehyung walk through the door back into the kitchen, a look of grimace on his face while you frown. You two decide to check out what this place has to offer. You’re both clearly skeptical of this whole entire situation, well at least he is. He feels like the only one who is acting appropriately. But he can safely assume you probably are feeling a bit skeptical yourself. You two check to see is there is anything safe to eat—if there even is food. He doesn’t know what to believe. Was this situation, he doesn’t know…real? True? Every word he read, is a loud echo in his mind screaming at him. How could he even take this seriously? How could you take this seriously? This is fucking insane! He looks over at you, who is rummaging through cabinets, you look the same as a few minutes ago—calm with an unsure expression painting your features. He hates how calm you look, he can’t help but feel so annoyed by you.
He takes a look in the large, silver fridge and is pleasantly surprised to see many foods that he likes; lots of fresh fruits, juices, milk, sandwich meats, so on. It is fully stocked. He reaches inside the fridge for a bowl a fresh fruit, his other hand grabbing for a can of whipped cream. He gives you a look and nods towards the bowl.
“Should we test them? See if we die from poison or some shit?” he half jokes, his bitter tone shining through. You try to ignore his bad attitude and smile.
“We’re testing them with a can of whipped cream?” you go for a lighter approach but he just rolls his eyes.
“Go big or go home, am I right ladies?”
You snort. Real life snort. And you consider being embarrassed but you see Taehyung’s eyes light up in amusement before they’re darkening again.
You reach for a strawberry and pop that thang in your mouth, so he does the same. You two chew cautiously, the flavor and juices bursting. These might be the best god damn strawberries either of you have ever had. Such a shame they are being enjoyed in such a situation. He turns to face you, the you who is now stuffing your face with strawberry after strawberry, he can’t help but let a chuckle slip between his lips.
“What? Go big or go home…” you pause, a smirk playing at your lips. “Right ladies?” Taehyung only rolls his eyes at your smart mouth, he won’t allow himself to laugh.
Taehyung is still trying to gather his impression of you. When you first met you were a total cry baby, then you were just annoying and now you’re trying your best to be calm. He recalls how you ugly cried just outside—god, you have been a roller coaster of a person but considering your situation he understands why.
He believes he was more unbothered and brave after having first woken up…but after seeing those framed photos he got freaked the fuck out, to put it simply. Then the TV…everything just went downhill from there. And he sees what you’re doing…you’re trying to be strong. And he hates you for it. Why is he being the weak one here? How are you doing it with such ease? He’s spiraling. His whole life just got put on pause. His dreams and aspirations? Pause. Friends and family? Pause. His love life? P-Pause? He can’t help but worry over every detail, not to mention…is any of this the truth? Are you two just supposed to believe the god forsaken words that you read on the TV screen? And you went on about this being like a damn vacation. Unbelievable! But all he can do right now is breathe in and breathe out and try to be himself. Which at the moment is a really unhappy person.
You and Taehyung continue reaching into the bowl for more refreshing fruit, your fingers brushing against one another like this is a god damn Hallmark movie, but you don’t seem to be fazed by it so he won’t either. Even though it’s driving him crazy, he doesn’t want to touch you. He wonders what your thoughts are on the whole ‘love’ thing? It’s ridiculous. Don’t get him wrong, in a different situation he could see himself getting along with someone like you, maybe even hook up…but fall in love? Not likely. Plus he already has someone. Sort of.
“Ah, wait…” He pauses mid bite.
“Hm?” you hum, mouth full.
“Aren’t we like, supposed to be finding pancake mix or whatever shit you wanted to find?”
With a roll of your eyes, you lick your fingers clean while the other hand lays rest on you hip. (And no, his eyes did not linger when you sucked on your fingers and no, they did not travel down to your hand that rest comfortably on your nice hips.)(And no, he did not just think your hips are nice.)
“Couldn’t find any!” you dramatically yell out, “You guys FAILED us!” you then look over at him with a smirk, “So much for being experts right?” you scoff, he almost wants to laugh at your dramatics but he just stares at you blankly.
But soon that blank stare is changing into a sour one when he realizes just who you are talking to…the very company that trapped you here. The one that’s watching over you right now. Or so they say.
“We should inspect the whole house.” He says seriously, “You know, get to know this ‘vacation home’ or whatever bullshit you said.”
You look down at your feet, feeling fucking embarrassed.
“Sorry for calling it that I—”
“I know,” Taehyung kind of smiles, “You were just trying to make us feel better. I get it.” His tone is softer than even he intended.
“It didn’t really help, did it?” you scratch the top of your head, feeling sheepish.
“Not really.” He answers honestly, with hard eyes. “Now come on, let’s check things out.”
You nod your head with an eye roll, he still chooses to be dickish.
The two of you walk into the living room to the entertainment center. The TV is surrounded by shelves of books, movies, and games. Apparently all to your liking, so you guess you will see how true that is.
“Woah, there’s Mortal Kombat. Sweet.” You comment, the game case in your hand.
“Woah, I can kick your ass at Mortal Kombat. Sweet.” Taehyung plainly responds while shuffling other games between his hands.
“Don’t even. I will play you right now.” You try lightening the mood but he just rolls his eyes.
“We have other important things to do, need I remind you?” he begins lecturing you and you scoff.
“You don’t need to remind me our shitty situation. Your stupid face is reminder enough.” You bite.
“Oh?” Taehyung continues to look through cases, barely paying attention to you.
“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “There’s tons of movies here and TV shows as well,” you gesture toward the bottom of the shelf. “Some I have never seen before,” you squat down, your fingers brushing against DVD cases until you stop at one in particular, pulling it out. “Like, what the hell is ‘Castaway on the Moon’?”
Taehyung’s eyes widen, “UH, only my most favorite movie ever?” he says, taking the case from you.
“Looks weird.” You comment plainly.
“Weird—it’s not weird! It’s actually really good I swear, actually you know what?” Taehyung huffs out, it’s the first time you’re seeing him get so worked up. It’s amusing. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He pouts, clearly wounded you would think to call his favorite movie ‘weird’.
“Plus, who’s weird?” he asks, “What’s with all this anime? I know it ain’t mine.”
You jut out your bottom lip in guilt, your cheeks turning a rosy pink.
“Well, well…”
“Well, well…” he mocks, feeling satisfied.
You raise your eyes to meet his and walk an inch towards him, never breaking contact.
“I’ll give yours a shot, if you give mine a shot?” you challenge, sticking out your hand. He guesses you want him to shake it.
He takes a moment to let his eyes linger on yours. They’re dark. Plain. Boring. Nothing special. He looks away and scoffs but the idea of sharing his favorite movie with someone does pique his interest.
“Deal.” He says, going in for the handshake. He feels your hand in his and doesn’t expect your skin to be so soft.
“Deal.” You say with an evil glint in your eye. “I’m going to make you watch so much good shit.” You continue to hold on to his hand, you look down at them and become slightly shy. You just remembered your situation. You keep staring for an odd amount of time before you drop his hand and shake your head.
“Should we check out the other rooms?” you start walking towards the entry way back into the main area of the house, but stop to turn and look at him.
“Yeah, I suppose we can do that.” He answers back, trying to sound as neutral as possible.
The two of you walk back into the main area where the rooms are located. He hesitantly creaks open the first door. He’s met with a room so fitting. A room full of art supplies. Drawing boards, brushes, paint, etc. He feels his palms pool with sweat.
“Do you make art?” you question, looking up at him.
“Yeah.” He gulps, feeling creeped out all over again. “They really did their research, huh?” he whispers to himself.
You two stand in the doorway, taking it all in. Taking in what this could really mean for you two. It begs the question: Were they really spying on you for over a year? Do they really know everything there is to know about you two?
You softly nudge Taehyung, “Why don’t we move on to the next room?” you suggest. He turns his head to face you as he swallows hard, nodding his head in agreement.
The next room is nothing spectacular, just a home gym.
“You work out?” he asks.
“Barely,” you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I always have the excuse of not having time or not wanting to go all the way to a gym. Guess I have no excuse now.” You look up at him with a sheepish grin. It’s hard to believe you don’t work out, Taehyung thinks. You have great legs.
“I see.” He turns his back to you, exiting the room.
The next room really wows Taehyung. He doesn’t mean for it to. He wants to hate this place.
It’s a room full of musical instruments and recording equipment.
“Holy shit.” He accidentally lets out. He walks around the room, touching things with just his fingertips. “This is like grade A equipment, I could only dream of owning shit like this.” He truly does not mean to be in awe of the music room, you know, because the enemies gave it to him but holy shit!
There’s only one room left and you swear to god it better be for you. You two slowly open the door together to reveal an interests of yours.
“Is this…? Like, a dance studio or something?” He questions, glancing around the room, “Are you a dancer?” he finally looks at you and he seems quite impressed.
You look…surprised, to say the least. Your brows shooting up all the way toward your hairline, your eyes darting all around the room.
“N-Not exactly…I mean, kind of?” you admit, your eyes falling to your hands. He tilts his head in confusion.
“I…I just have a serious interest I guess you could say,” you look all around the room again, “But I,” you play with your fingers. “I have never said it out loud to anyone.”
“Oh.” Taehyung breathes out in understanding. So, these fuckers really did spy on you guys. In depth. You both feel goosebumps rise on your arms, making you both feel a chill.
“Let’s head upstairs. Shall we?”
The upstairs has 4 doors in total. You both know the door closest to the staircase is the bedroom you woke up in.
“There’s no bathroom in this room,” he motions towards the door. “And the closet was empty. So, it’s not the master and that—”
“That means there’s multiple bedrooms.” you finish for him, and you both sigh in relief.
He means, this place has a goal of getting you together, so he wouldn’t be surprised if they only offered you one bedroom, but thank the God that he doesn’t believe in that there’s more than one bedroom.
“Yeah exactly,” he breathes out. “I’m willing to bet the door at the end of the hall is the master. Wanna just skip ahead?”
“Sure,” you agree, walking past him to beat him to the door at the end of hall. But you wait for him to reach the door as well before you’re reaching for the knob and slowly turning it, swinging the door open.
The room is big, a huge king size bed in the center of the back wall. Thankfully, the drapes are dark so not a lot of natural sunlight enters the room, Taehyung thinks.
“Hell yeah, dark curtains.” You say excitedly. Obviously reading his mind.
He follows behind you, keeping his comments to himself as you ooh and aah at your surroundings. He is impressed by the rooms simple yet he guesses you could say intriguing décor. Definitely fits his style, but he won’t say that out loud. As an artist himself, the paintings on the walls are very pleasing to the eye. He wonders if they suit you as well. If you’re his ‘soulmate’ they would, he thinks bitterly. He could see himself adding his own artwork to this room. He wonders if you would be okay with that as well—wait. What is he saying? It’s not like you two will be sharing this room!
You drag your fingers across the comforter on the bed.
“Soft.” You mumble to yourself.
He chews on his lips for a moment before speaking, “You can have it…” he shifts from one foot to the other. “The room, I mean. I’ll just take the other bedroom.”
“Really? You sure?” The excitement is evident in your voice. “Wait no—that’s not very fair. We could thumb wrestle for it or—”
He raises a brow, “Thumb wrestle? Really?”
“Mortal Kombat?” you offer.
“That just wouldn’t be fair, I would win too easily.” He says, not impressed. “Just take the room. I’m sure.”
“Fine…thank you.” you bow your head down in defeat.
The two of you walk towards the master bath and your eyes come close to popping out of your heads. It is huge! And super fancy! He’s not good at fancy words but he’ll put it simply, the countertop is long with two sinks. Two sinks. The shower has one of those rain shower head things and woah. That’s for like, rich people. The way you are gawking at this bathroom tells him you’re having the same thoughts as him. Yours are probably fancy like, “This extravagant marble bathtub looks exquisite against these cream colored walls. Very…dashing.” Or some wild shit like that.
The closet is next, He’ll be completely honest. He forgot you would need clothes and shit. But holy moly, there are rows and rows of clothes, both yours and his. There is jewelry (Not really sure why that’s necessary but like, okay) and shoes on shelves against the walls. It was more than he owned himself back at home.
“Honestly I forgot about needing clothes…since we like…live here now.” The words are sour leaving your mouth, he can tell. But also, you are obviously reading his mind again.
“What? You thought you would be wearing your cute little PJ’s 24/7 or what? Wear nothing at all maybe?” he asks, shuffling from one foot to the other. He’s uncomfortable.
“ha-ha.” you deadpan. “I just haven’t really thought about what this all entails is all.”
He frowns at your words,
“We should probably talk about it, right? What this all means, I mean.” His questions causes a shift in the atmosphere. The air becoming a little thicker.
You only nod and turn on your feet to head back into the bedroom. He quickly follows behind you, both of you stopping at the foot of the bed.
“Let’s talk then.” You bite your lip, swaying side to side.
He needs to be honest. He is clearly so confused about all this. Fucking puzzled. He means, what if just what if this company was real? And this company was…right? Are you really a match made in heaven? No, that can’t be. That would be fucking ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous for even considering it. But you two obviously need to talk. Have a fucking chit chat.
You plop down on the edge of the bed and he follows your lead, finding a spot right next to you. Your knee shakes up and down quickly while you play with the hem of your shirt. You’re obviously nervous as fuck, which he can’t really blame you. He watches you for a few moments before hesitantly placing a hand over your shaking knee, trying to stop the anxious movement and hoping to God he is not crossing any serious lines, he’s just really getting annoyed by your shaking knee and needs that shit to stop. You turn your head to face him and he is met with a look of frustration. He turns his head to face straight ahead and with a heavy sigh he says, “I feel that way too.” Because it’s true, you both must feel the same. It’s not like you want to be stuck here with him either. Right?
You finally let out a long breath, “How long?” you whisper. “How long will we be stuck here?” you begin to sniffle as your eyes become wet. Shit. He brings his hands to his lap and interlocks his fingers together.
“I…I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “But what are your thoughts? On what we read…” he clears his throat, clarifying as if it wasn’t already obvious.
You suck in a sharp breath, “I don’t know what to believe.” You admit. “But we are…” you gesture between you two, “This is—This is not happening.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes as if that wasn't the most obvious statement in the world. He. Could. Not. Agree. More.
You continue, “Someone deciding for me? On this part of my life? That doesn’t sit right with me. No fucking thank you.”
“Yeah, me either.”
“I mean,” you turn to face him, “You seem decent and all, when you’re not being an ass, but this is all insane. Just insane.” You wear an annoyed expression, shaking your head in disbelief. He breathes out of his nose in attempt to laugh.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“But…” you pause, choosing your next words carefully…you have to be careful with this next part. “But if it’s real? What are we—” and yup, just as expected, you are cut off with just a look. He furrows his brows together and pushes his head back in surprise.
“This can’t be forced y/n.” he states firmly. You raise your hands up in surrender.
“Oh my god, Taehyung. I know that! I fucking know, jeez. But we have to talk about all the possibilities.” You say firmly, “We’re stuck here for who knows how long and you read the same thing as me, right?” you push on, “3 months? 6 months? A fucking year?” you drag a heavy hand down your tired face. “And don’t even get me started on these damn ‘Requests’ and whatever they are!” You are clearly very frustrated…Taehyung looks at you with the same pity you’re sure he feels for himself.
“Okay, okay.” For the first time Taehyung speaks to you much more softly. “Listen, they can’t keep us here forever? We are going to prove we are that 1%. We just got to stay out of one another’s way and just wait it out until they return us home.” Then his frown deepens, “But wait, what about the ‘Requests’?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
You strum your fingers on your thigh, staring down at your lap, in deep thought.
“I know this is weird but…” Taehyung starts.
“I know, we have to talk about it.” You finally look up at him and your entire face has gone pink.
“If the ‘Requests’ are, I don’t know, “pure” enough, we could just like do them?” you look at him with doe eyes, “Or like, if the penalty isn’t that bad…. I don’t know.” You ramble on.
The thing is, neither of you know what to expect from these ‘Requests’ and their penalties. It’s one huge mystery. And neither you nor Taehyung are a fan of mysteries. Taehyung watches as you begin shaking your knee in total panic again when he clears his throat.
“Hey…I think we can worry about that when or if the time comes, okay?”
“When or if…” you repeat slowly. “Okay.”
He stands from his place at the bed and begins walking towards the bedroom door.
“As long as we stay out of each other’s way, we should be good.”
“Stay out of each other’s way…” you nibble on your lips, “Like, we don’t talk or anything?”
“Precisely. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
“But—”
“That’s just the way it’s got to be.”
“Fine.” You speak bitterly, “Fine by me.”
Stuck on a beautiful island in a beautiful house with a beau—with a man. What could possibly go wrong? Vacation from hell, here we go.
544 notes · View notes
justjuiceyboy · 4 years ago
Text
jealousy
in which Happy protects what is his
word count: 1.3 K
warnings: swearing, fighting - all the good sons stuff :)
——————— 
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The clubhouse was lit up, packed from wall to wall with people. There was always a buzz around this place when there was a party, drinks flowing - and falling - in all directions. This was your first time back here since the break-up.
You and Happy had been together for over two years, up until a month and a half ago. There was a blowout fight, about what you can’t even remember, most likely something stupid. But it led to the end of your relationship, you being unable to deal with his lack of emotions any longer than you already have. But now sitting in the car, you felt nervous. You had been absolutely miserable since the breakup, you refused to even leave the house for weeks to go to the shops and this was the first social gathering you had been brought to.
Your friends wanted to go to the party since they were always deemed legendary and you were dragged along. What a great idea. Send you directly into the lion's den. You hadn’t seen him since that blowout disagreement all that time ago so of course, you were slightly skittish. Would he have someone else? Would he even acknowledge you in the first place? You didn’t even want to think of the possibility of any of these evens taking place. 
The girls quickly exited the car, going around to your door and practically pulling you towards the door of the all familiar place. Every step brought back a memory of the million times you were previously here. Your friends pushed in the door and you followed along begrudgingly. The smell of alcohol and sweat hit you like a truck as soon as you entered. 
You made a beeline to the bar, wanted something to put your nerves in check. Some random woman was working the bar who you’d never seen before. You smiled politely and asked for a shot of tequila which she brought to you promptly. 
As you were raising the small shot glass to your lips, you heard someone speak from beside you, “Will need a chaser for that one Darling”. You looked up, once again seeing someone you’d never seen before. Your eyes flicked to his patches on his kutte, prospect. You raise your eyebrow at this statement, “I’m sure I’ll be fine”. 
“Most women wouldn’t be able to handle that without one, I’m impressed” he chuckled, making you nearly gag. As if you had to impress him in the first place. Self-entitled and sexist, what a delightful combination. 
The man who was now sitting on a barstool beside you looked short, definitely in comparison to the rest of the sons who were usually over 6 foot. He looked around 5”10, which was usually fine in a man, except this one looked like he could use the extra few inches for the ego and the entitlement that just came off him. 
“So, where you from pretty girl?” He said as he scooted his chair close to you, as a result making you move your chair back behind you. What you didn’t realise was that you were being watched from the other side of the room. Your powerful ex noticing you as soon as you walked into the room, leading him to follow you with his eyes to what was happening right now. The prospect only came around about three weeks ago so he wouldn’t know who you are and your history with the Tacoma Killer. 
Happy was standing, leaning slightly against the wall with his arms crossed. Murder was in his eyes as he was gnawing on a toothpick to stop him from grinding his teeth. He was over ten feet away from you and even he could tell from where he was that you didn’t want to talk to the new runt of the litter, but of course, the prospect was getting too big for his boots and thinking he could pick up any girls he wanted. Happy knew that you wouldn’t go for him but there was a slightly growing urge to swing at him because deep down he was afraid that you would go home with someone at this party.
Back at this catastrophe of one siding flirting at the bar, the prospect wasn’t giving up. You had given him the bare minimum answers to be polite but he took it as you were interested in him. He was trying to flex the prospect the patch, not knowing that before you stood with someone who was both a full patch and the sergeant at arms nonetheless. 
The prospect, whose name was Robert, had started to try and get touchy. He placed a hand on your thigh as he ordered more drinks, which you swiftly tried to push off. He flicked his eyes back to you and tightened his grip on your leg so you now wouldn’t be able to get it off. The smirk on his face would turn anyone off their drinks for the rest of the night.
The shots were put on the counter, the shots you told him that you didn’t want because it was obvious he was trying to get you as drunk as possible to urge you to sleep with him. He turned to you once your hand didn’t go to the glasses straight away and basically spat at you “drink it”. You just tried to push his hand away and move your chair back, anything to get him off of you.
“She doesn’t want the drinks prospect,” a booming voice came from behind you. You felt a rollercoaster of emotions straight away, knowing exactly who it belonged to. 
“We were just leaving anyway, weren’t we sweetheart?” He smiled a sickly smile as if you would agree. The poor boy didn’t catch onto what was going on yet.
“I’ll give you two seconds to fuck off away from my girl” Happy threatened without changing his facial expression once. My girl. You were Happy’s girl.
The prospect seemed to think he could take on the killer as he stayed in place with his hand on your shoulder and opened his mouth to speak. Except no words came out, Happy’s fist had connected with his jaw before he could say anything. Robert stumbled back into the bar as Happy spat “two seconds up dickhead”. You could pretend you were surprised at his actions, but to be completely fair to Happy, he did warn him. But he had also lost the privileges to protect you when he broke it off with you.
Happy lunged at him again and the other sons came to his side, to hold him back from beating the prospect to a pulp. They just knew what had happened when they saw the fire in Happy’s eyes, especially with you sitting on the chair as this was all happening. 
Jax pushed Happy to you and quickly told you to take him outside and that he’ll deal with the prospect. You nodded and grabbed Happy by the arm and quickly shoved him towards the door. He followed, too angry to even do anything other than follow you. 
The light rain fell on top of both of your heads as you pulled the door shut behind you. There was no one around so you could shout to your heart's content. 
“Happy what the fuck was that? You can’t just punch-“ you were cut off from your screaming by Happy bringing his lips to yours. The scene was like something out of a movie, a misty rain surrounding you both as a party continued to go on without you both.
You brought your arms up around the back of his neck to deepen this kiss, which seemed to last a lifetime but in fact, was only some seconds. He pulled away first and looked straight into your eyes.
“Don’t want you to leave, come back please” he whispered against your skin quietly as he took you in an embrace.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him sincerely as you brought him back in for a kiss once again.
-----------------
Happy Taglist: @yourwonkywriter​ @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ 
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amphxtrite · 4 years ago
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cedric diggory x fem!reader
part two: Dreamiest Boy in School.
warnings: smut, shower sex, swearing, oral (female receiving), masturbation.
If you are not comfortable please do not read.
summary: Cedric’s been in love with you for years. What will he do when he catches the reader moaning his name after a quidditch game in the prefect’s bathroom. Fluff at the end.
a/n: characters are 18+ and it is fully consensual.
word count: 4.2k
enjoy<3
__________________________________________
Cedric first met you in his fifth year when he’d first been appointed captain of the hufflepuff team, it was your first time trying out despite also being in your fifth, but it was no secret that it wasn’t your first time on the pitch. You were a natural, blocking quaffles with ease, letting none enter the goal. Your movements were smooth, elegant, but forceful, effectively getting the job done, but truly showing off the art of flying. Cedric had to forcibly pinch himself after you touched down. 
Today was a rough game against gryffindor, It went on much longer than it needed to with Ms. Pink Toad calling random people from the pitch and ‘hem hemming’ every time someone managed to score a goal. When Cedric had eventually caught the snitch, he had to deal with a ten minute long speech from Umbridge speaking of his bravery and strength, he cut it short after she began to run her hands over his face.
Now came Cedric’s favourite part of the game, his friends had already congratulated him on the win, but he was close by you and your friends as you touched down from the goal post. You were distributing high-fives to everyone, even throwing Cedric a quick thumbs up before running to your gym bag and taking a long sip from your water bottle. Here it comes, your pupils glance from side to side, scanning the area before grabbing the hem of your jersey to dab at the sweat running down your face. No one on the team cared you did this, but you still felt weird randomly pulling your jersey up to clean off your face. You did this after every practice and game, and although he didn’t mean to intrude Cedric found himself gazing at you often.
Cedric takes his bottom lip into his teeth as he looks to the grass beneath him, his thoughts running wild. He pictures what it would be like if he was the one pulling at your shirt, slowly pushing it up your gorgeous body as you beg him to take it off, rolling your hips desperately against his. The seeker’s pants were starting to get a little more constricting at the thought.
Ever since his first time seeing you at the pitch, he’d find himself thinking of you this way a lot. His name spilling from your lips, mouth agape, legs quivering. It kept him awake often, thinking about you. Imagining the feeling of your lips pressed to his as he rocked his hips in and out of you. He didn’t appreciate the sinful thoughts encasing his mind every time he saw you, it drove him insane. Any time you licked your lips, shook out your hair, smirked or even simply laughed, he’d have to excuse himself to rid of the heat from his face.
It was even worse the two of you had become close friends in the last two years, you were the person to help and train him for the triwizard tournament, working out with him often and supporting him through his challenges, also being his unofficial ‘date’ to the ball. You pushed him well, preparing him for the physical challenges that lay ahead in the contest, but only having his crush grow as you worked by his side and hugged him good luck. After he won, you were one of the first people he went to after his father. You had jumped into his arms and held him tight as he recounted the story of how Voldemort had stunned him and Harry had saved his life. Upon finishing  the story, you had kissed him on the cheek and whispered.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”
He knew then that he was never going to let you go.
Cedric did his best to put your friendship first, reminding himself of your platonic status and your great history. He couldn’t jeopardize it all, even if he fancied you. Running himself a cold shower after stripping down his robes in the prefect’s bathroom, he tries to place his thoughts in a different headspace. He ignores his surroundings as he tries to rid himself of the dirty images, letting the cold water stream onto his face. It was practically useless, his mind drifted back to your lips pulled between your teeth or how your lips felt against his cheek after each hit of cold water. With one small thought, his arousal and need grows.
Sighing quietly and shutting the tap off, the hufflepuff head boy wraps a towel around his waist as he picks up his bag to begin getting changed. Halfway to zip open his bag, he can hear a shaky voice calling, not to far away.
“Oh f-fuck Ced.” 
Body immediately going rigid, the wide-eyed boy regains his train of thought and remembering where he is, glancing around the showers. The voice was so familiar, close.
So... dream-like. Sifting through his memories to match the voice, he thinks of people close to him that were also prefects or head girls, the only person to came to mind was you, but that was impossible. What were you doing saying his name so beautifully.
“Faster, please.” The voice rang out again in a softer mewl. The brunette’s cheeks light on fire as the voice finally registers in his ears, no doubt it was your soft cry. Despite his better judgment, Cedric needed to check this out. To make sure he wasn’t just imagining your voice begging for him.
As he approaches the shower he hears the voice from, he can hear a heavy pant and a shower getting louder. Standing before the closed curtain. His hand hovering over top the thin material, he mentally debates this, perhaps he was wrong. He might’ve misheard, and the he’d be barging in on a random girl. Pulling his hand away he turn to leave, but another moan perks his attention.
“F-fuck Cedric, I-I’m gonna c-cum.” A quivering whimper, cries his name again.
He’d heard you say his name about a million times, cheering him on, talking to him, laughing out his name. That was you inside, about to cum to his image.
Not able to take it anymore and he rips open the shower curtain, his cock springing up under the towel and pure desire taking over his senses. There you were, damp hair streaming down your shoulders, leaning against a wall with one hand on your breast and the other deep between your legs, pushing in and out at a rapid pace, practically sobbing for release.
“Are you masturbating?”
You barely register the soft question, but as your eyes open they instantly flash with horror and you immediately pull your hands away from your body, meeting gazes with a wide-eyed Cedric. A flood of embarrassment consumes you, he must have heard you. Merlin, you felt disgusting.
“Oh my gosh Cedric I’m so sorry!” You apologize frantically, rushing to grab your towel and cover yourself as tears of self-consciousness begin to well in your eyes. “I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You try and push him out of your way, but Cedric will not let you pass, his grey eyes still staring holes into you. Agonizing seconds pass as he simply looks you down, your head swiveling around to look anywhere but his stoic gaze. 
Finally smirks in amusement, Cedric reaches over and takes your chin in between his fingers, forcing your head up to meet his eyes, you ready yourself for a lecture, or maybe screams, but it doesn’t come.
“I like the way you said my name.” Cedric teases, pushing you back into the running shower.
“Hands between your thighs and on your breast, were you thinking about this?” Cedric purrs, pushing you against the smooth wall and pressing his chest against yours, slowly rocking his hard on against your sensitive clit with the rough towel around his waist. 
“Imagining me taking you in the shower, fucking you against the wall and whispering dirty thoughts into your ear?” He continues in a low voice, continuing the gentle rock of his hips.
Your mouth drops open at Cedric’s reaction and the waves of pleasure clouding your senses. “Answer me.” Cedric growls, pushing harder against you and encasing you in his arms, his elbows by your head and his forearms against the wall. “Y-yes, I-I was.” your soft voice breathes out. “Yes, who?” Cedric grins, his eyes growing dark with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Yes Cedric.” You moan as the toned hufflepuff continues to roll his hips slowly, an approving smirk spreading on his lips. 
 “You don’t know how long I’ve wished to do this love.” Cedric begins to nip at your neck, sucking and kissing around until he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch. You bite your lip to suppress the upcoming moan.
“Stop.” Cedric’s needy voice growls at you. “The only one who’ll be biting those lips is me.” He states, desire lacing every word.
Roughly pushing his lips against yours in a heated kiss, his warm tongue swirls around your mouth, drinking in your intoxicating taste and gliding his rough fingertips up and down your body, memorizing every curve before coming to rest on your hips. Your teeth clash, pleasure and heat travel to your core, fueling your arousal as a hard member prods at you from under Cedric’s dangerously low towel. 
“Besides, I want the whole castle to know you’re mine.” The grey-eyed hufflepuff bucks his hips into yours again making you squirm. “C-Cedric!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around his muscular shoulders and digging your nails into your champion’s back, the steam in the shower clouds your perception even more, all you could sense was Cedric’s body against yours, every muscle every scar. Cedric’s teasing lips pull up again as you begin to ramble.
“I-I need you.” you beg nervously, grinding your hips against the soaked material of Cedric’s towel.
“Would you like my fingers or my tongue love.” Cedric’s cool digits brush the inside of your thighs, you nearly jump at the feeling. “Both.” You manage to whimper out as Cedric’s hard stare bores into you.
“Dirty girl.” He smirks teasingly, his voice smooth as satin and dark as sin. “Beg for it.”
You could feel your arousal growing at Cedric’s words. You’d never seen him as the type to wish his partner to beg, but Merlin you weren’t complaining.
“Please Cedric, I need you. You make me feel so fucking good, please don’t stop, let the whole castle know who I belong to.” 
Your champion’s eyes go from a piercing grey to almost black as lust and arousal course through his veins. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, pressing kisses all the way down to where you needed him most. Cedric takes his time spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs and blowing on your clit, sending shockwaves up your trembling form. He looks back up at you as he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your folds and begins to swirl his tongue around your clit. Your thoughts run cold, all that consumes your mind was the ecstasy running through your veins, Cedric flicking his tongue around your sex, fucking you with his tongue and lapping hungrily at your sweet juices.
“Oh fuck Cedric, please don’t stop.” Your mewling voice begs needlingly, breathing heavily to keep yourself from falling over. 
Cedric smiles into you and slowly teases his fingers around your entrance, tracing along the edge of your slit before sinking two long digits into your wetness. spots flash in front of your eyes as your head falls back against the wall. Cedric pulls and pushes his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, twisting them around and bending slightly as your walls grow tighter around him. He uses his body to keep your legs from doubling over in pleasure and continues to ravage you with both his tongue and fingers. flicking and sucking at your bundle of nerves while thrusting his fingers in and out of your core. A familiar knot begins to form and you dig your hand into Cedric’s damp hair, pulling him closer to you and desperately rocking your hips against his face, desperate for any more friction he could give you. Cedric chuckles at your moaning form. Sending even more delicious vibrations to your sensitive clit, as moans mix with longing cries of your lover’s name. Cedric pulls his mouth away, bringing himself to a standing position, still burying his fingers in you, replacing his tongue with his calloused thumb to massage your throbbing bundle of nerves.
“You don’t know what you do to me darling. How does it make you feel that you give me a hard-on every time you lift that shirt up to wipe your face? Every time you bite that gorgeous lip, or flip your hair you’d have me wanting to bend you over and fuck you senseless.”
You try and respond, but the pleasure Cedric was giving to you was all your mind could take. The sound of his fingers pounding into your wet core and Cedric’s deep pants were driving you insane. You can only moan in response and crash your lips against his again. You can taste yourself as Cedric dips his tongue against yours, nibbling on your lip and picking up his pace with his fingers. A familiar knot forms in your abdomen and you have to pull away from Cedric’s lips to moan and arch your back even more, you can feel your walls clenching tighter against the rough fingers pounding in and out of you.
All at once the knot snaps and waves upon waves of euphoria washes over you and consuming your vision in white. Crying out Cedric’s name over and over again, the brunette helps you ride out your high, continuing to pulse his fingers in your clenching hole and kneeling down again to lap up your juices as you moan out and rock your hips gently, Cedric’s cock begins to twitch like mad watching he waves of cum spill from your core, but he takes his time, savoring every drop of your sex.
Cedric is practically beaming with pride as he stands again, holding the back of your head in his large hand. 
“So sweet love.” He smirks, wiping a drop of your cum off of his bottom lip with his thumb and licking it off slowly, keeping direct eye contact with you. Your face was red, your legs quivering, and deep breaths sounding from your lips.
“I’m not done with you yet darling.” Cedric drops the towel from his waist and boxes you in his arms again.
“You won’t be able to walk when I’m through with you.” The toned seeker teases in a dark voice.
Feeling his length against your stomach you bite back a moan, fuck he was big. You were unsure what to do, but taking his twitching cock into your hand, you pump his length experimentally, receiving a soft moan in return. Picking up the pace, you spread the precum on his tip as a lubricant. Working your hand against him, he reconnects your lips, a soft whimper flowing from Cedric’s lips. You keep using your hand to pleasure your champion, but Cedric can’t take it anymore.
“I need to be inside of you darling.” Cedric rasps, reluctantly pulling your hand from his throbbing tip and wrapping his arms around you.
“jump.”
Without hesitation you leap up and wrap your legs around Cedric’s hips and he presses you against the wall for support.
“Ready Love?” Cedric smirks, his hands squeezing your ass and cock teasing your soft folds.
“Shut up and take me Diggory.”
Cedric wastes no time sinking into you, slowly at first, letting you adjust to his thick shaft, small grunts sounding from your lips as Cedric sink deeper.
“You’re taking me so well darling, f-fuck.” Cedric groans, sticking his head in the crook of your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin and squeezing your hips.
Tears prick in your eyes as Cedric bottoms out in you, burying your hand in his wet brown curls you whimper at the feeling of being so full.
After a couple moments the pain turns to pleasure and you shimmy around motioning to Cedric it’s okay to move. The brunette begins to thrust in and out of you, slow at first, but soon finding a rhythm, pulling in and out of you in a quick pace, thrusting out to almost his tip before burying himself to the hilt inside you once again.
“Faster Cedric.” your pleading voice gasps and pleads.
Cedric obliges, snapping his hips back and forth to the point you see spots in your vision and you’re dragging your nails down your champions back. Cedric frantically presses his lips against yours again as he groans loudly. You swallow the moan in the kiss and cup your hands around Cedric’s defined jawline, pulling him closer and clenching your core in surprise as he pushes his thumb to your clit.
Your reaction pulls another breathy moan from Cedric, but his thrusts don’t stop. He continues to pound into you, his desire out weighing any tiredness that should’ve been.
Your loud moans only egg him on further. Your sinful, desperate pleas for more drive him insane. Arching your back and rolling your hips, Cedric pounds even further into you.
“Fuck Cedric, right there.” Your loud beg cries out and Cedric smirks, slamming his hips into your spot over and over again. Screams of pleasure and sighs of satisfaction fill the air. Wet sounds of skin on skin ring throughout the large bathroom as Cedric sinks deep into you with each needy thrust.
Parting your lips, another choked moan is pulled from your lips and your vision goes blank once again as your coil snaps and your grip tightens on Cedric. Your champion doesn’t stop, his thrusts are still merciless and needy, but as your slit clenches his cock in a tight hold, his thrust becomes lazier and he can feel his release coming soon.
“You make me feel so good Ced, I’ve had my hand in between my legs thinking about this for so long, o-oh fuck.” You moan in a teasing voice against the brunettes ear. You can feel Cedric’s upper body go rigid as he uses the last of his strength to snap his hips into yours like his life depended on it. Your dirty talk making him imagine your naked body lying on your bed, moaning out his name, probably only a hallway away from him. Years of lust and love fuel his next thrusts. Every time he’d painfully gotten hard because of you, every time he imagined you underneath him and making you scream his name in ecstasy was all coming true and groaning your name into the crook of your neck he snaps his hips in a desperate thrust one more time before releasing all over your tight walls, his body pulsing in euphoria sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.
Your eyes roll back and your legs jolt at his powerful stream, thanking Merlin you had taken the potion to help with cramps not too long ago. You begin to roll your hips lazily to help Cedric ride out his orgasm, your core practically numb with pleasure and your entire body exhausted. Cedric is panting heavily, his hand buried in your hair and his other still supports your body. He gives your bum a small squeeze, your body still against the wall and his still pressed to yours in support, letting the warm water from the tap relax your tired muscles and wash the proof of your pleasures off of your legs, while still intimately connected.
Cedric smiles as he looks deep into your eyes, still panting heavily, but now with nervousness and a slight anxiety. He couldn’t keep his true feelings from you any longer.
“You know I love you right?” The hufflepuff head boy confesses, running a hand down the side of your face.
“I’d hope so, considering you just fucked me senseless.” You giggle and wrap your arms around Cedric’s toned shoulders. 
Your giggle dies down to a grin and a pink blush makes it’s way onto your face as you look down to see the two of you still connected
“I love you too.” You smile earnestly, a smile playing on your lips and you press a kiss to Cedric’s pink cheek. “I’ve loved you since those days in fifth year when I trained with you, you don’t know how relieved I was you survived, and with Umbridge around I thought I might never get the chance to confess.” Your emotions come through and Cedric has to blink the pure happiness from his eyes to respond.
“I’ve loved you since the moment you came rushing into my arms after the maze, I had a crush on you before, but i’ll never forget when you said those words, I knew I’d never let you go.” Cedric’s smile falters a bit as your stare drops to his lips.
“C-can I kiss you?” His face grows closer to yours.
“Didn’t ask for permission while you were cumming in me.” You tease, peppering kisses all around Cedric’s handsome features as his face grows hot in embarrassment.
“I-Is that a yes?” He murmurs hopefully, your soft lips trailing down his jawline.
You smile and press a kiss to the corner of Cedric’s mouth.
“As long as I can be your girl.” You giggle.
Cedric immediately pushes his lips to yours in a more delicate, but wanting kiss. Taking his time now to show you his adoration and care for you. The sounds of your lips molding together sounding through the large shower. Cedric runs his tongue through your mouth again, slowly this time, sighing at the taste of your after-game drink and the light taste of strawberry chap stick that remained on the inside your lips, begging to be found and appreciated.
As Cedric continues to ravage your mouth you run your hands up and down his chest and abs, taking deep breaths of his autumn like scent. Campfire, vanilla and honey were the most prominent, while his aftershave also offered a sharp, wood like smell.
“I love you y/n, so much. It would be an honor to have you as my girl.” Cedric sighs against your lips, placing one final peck before pulling away and grinning like a little kid. A smile begins to form on your face.
“Hey, did you think you could, you know.” You awkwardly motion down towards where you were still intertwined. “My legs are kid of sore.” Cedric’s eyes widen in realization and he nods frantically, apologies spilling from his lips as he slowly pulls out of you with a small ‘pop.’ Cedric lowers your feet to the ground and begins to back up, but the sudden weight removed from your body made your legs forget how to move and you crash into Cedric’s chest again.
Your legs felt numb and you couldn’t get them to move properly without falling. Cedric does his best to hide his pride as your lips pull into a frown, but a small smirk emerges as he bites his lip to stop it. He glances down and also notices the small purple love bites littering your neck and he almost beams.
“I hope you’re happy with yourself Ced, I can’t walk.” You roll your eyes at his useless attempt to stop his smile.
“I am, and I must say you look absolutely ravishing sporting my love bites darling.” He grins darkly, but a light chuckle breaks free.
“Alright let’s get you dressed, come on.” Cedric turns the tap off before leaning over again and catching your legs in his arms, carrying you bridal style out of shower, grabbing your towel and gym bag on the way out.
Placing you down on a bench, he grabs his own fluffy, white towel from his bag. Using it to pat your hair and body dry, making sure to get every inch of your body, and being careful around your intimate parts as you winced often. Grabbing another school-provided towel, he pats his upper-body dry before tying the cloth around his waist. Shaking out his damp hair, he grabs your bag and places it next to you.
“Do you think you can do it yourself darling?” His voice is filled with concern, but you nod and zip open your bag. Cedric turns to his own clothes and after tugging on a pair of boxers and sweatpants, wipes his hair dry before throwing on a t-shirt.
He turns to see you in a black sports bra, tugging on a pair of black tights, but unable to get them up your bum. Cedric smirks, walking over to you and pulling you up, holding you against him as a support while you finally get the leggings on. He sits you back down before pulling a jumper out of his bag and slipping it over your head.
The sweater seems to swallow you whole and it takes a moment to find the holes for your arms. You thank Cedric and sigh at being engulfed in Cedric’s sweet scent, pulling the jumper over your nose and smiling in content.
“You look better in my clothes than I do.” Cedric smirks happily, pulling you up again and interlocking your hands.
“Well in that case I guess I’ll keep it.” You grin, slipping on your sneakers and following Cedric out the prefect bathroom to the best of your abilities, having to stop often due to the aftershock of Cedric’s desperate pounding. Finally resorting to Cedric carrying you once again. Thankfully Dolores and her goons seemed to be missing from the scene.
Finally making it back to the hufflepuff common room, Cedric sneaks you into his dorm and closes the canopy around his four poster bed. Breathing out in content, The head boy cuddles you into his chest and wraps his arms around your torso.
“Can’t believe you’re actually here on my bed with me, I’ve only dreamt of this.” Cedric murmurs giddily, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose.
You snake your arms around Cedric’s broad chest and cuddle closer to him.
“I’m never letting you go, you know that.” Your champion teases, kissing your hairline.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure, closing your eyes tiredly and slowly drifting off, exhaustion from the day's activities getting to you.
Cedric peers down at you a happy smile resting on his lips as he too yawns and relaxes into his pillow. This day couldn’t have gone any better. He won the game, fucked you in the shower and now he’s cuddling you in his bed. His blush reappears onto his cheeks as your breathy moans engrave themselves into his brain, but pride takes over as he reminds himself it was him who made you moan like that. Peppering kisses on your forehead he finally closes his eyes and replays your evening with a small smirk.
This is my first time writing smut so tips would be appreciated!
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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago
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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 16
Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 16 - This Venerable One is Stunned
This really couldn't be blamed on the beast-like Mo Ran. Anyone in such a claustrophobic space, trapped with someone he'd slept with countless times - regardless of whether the sex meant anything, whether it was out of revenge or out of love - smelling the familiar smell on the other person, he could never help the lurching feeling in his heart.
Besides, Mo Ran himself was a bastard.
Shi Mei was his white moonlight. He absolutely couldn't bear to touch it, and he doesn't want to destroy it.
He patronized Chu Wanning and only Chu Wanning. All of his darkness, bestial-lust, and bone-crushing rage could be vented with no fear of repercussion.
He crushed him, tore him up underneath him, forcing him to take part in all the tricks he would never try with Shi Mei.
In his previous life, every time he saw Chu Waning tilting his neck and moving his throat, he felt he was about to degenerate into a vicious beast that only knew how to drink blood. He wanted to bite the man's throat open, grind his teeth, suck out his blood, chew through his flesh and bones.
He didn't care about Chu Wanning. He could defile him as much as he wanted.
At the end of it all, his body had developed a habit. Every time he smelled the scent of Chu Wanning's body, his stomach would feel like it's on fire, his heart would itch, and he wanted to tie him down to a bed and fuck him senseless.
There was a moment of silence in the coffin and Mo Ran's racing heart could be heard.
He knows that Chu Wanning's face was very close. He could feel the other's breathing. If he bit it right now, Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to break free, but. . .
Better to forget it.
Mo Ran leaned back and distanced himself from Chu Wanning. It wasn't really easy considering there wasn't really much room in the coffin.
"I'm sorry, Shizun." Mo Ran snorted and pretended to be meek. "I didn't expect the coffin to - shake!"
As soon as he spoke, the coffin slanted again. Mo Ran rolled into Chu Wanning's arms again with a grunt.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran retreated again, the coffin shook again, and the cycle continued several more times.
"Un-fucking-believable." Mo Ran leaned back again.
The golden boy and girl were probably walking on a slope, and the inside of the coffin wall was slippery. He didn't hold on for too long, Mo Ran helplessly rolled on top of Chu Wanning.
"Shizun. . ." He bit his lip, feeling aggravated.
This guy originally looked kind of cute as a young man. If he deliberately hid his wolf tail and act like a puppy, he could actually pretend to be similar.
Chu Wanning didn't say a word.
Mo Ran really didn't want to roll around again, so he simply gave up the struggle: "I didn't mean to."
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran whispered: "But the wound on my back still hurts so much. . ."
In the darkness, Chu Wanning seemed to sigh gently. The gongs and drums outside were a bit noisy and Mo Ran wasn't sure whether he had really heard it.
But the next moment, Mo Ran smelled a clearer fragrance of begonia flowers, and Chu Wanning's hand wrapped behind his back, blocking the gap that he might have crashed into.
However, it wasn't a hug. Chu Wanning's arms were empty, deliberately avoiding physical contact with Mo Ran. Only the clothes and Mo Ran were touching each other, but this posture was still somewhat intimate.
"Be careful, don't hit it again." The voice was heavy, like porcelain soaked in a stream, with a kind of ancient demure. If he listened to it without hatred in mind, it was actually very nice.
". . . Alright."
Suddenly no one spoke anymore.
At this point, Mo Ran was still a young teenager who wasn't as tall as an adult, so he leaned in Chu Wanning's arms, his forehead fitting underneath Chu Wanning's chin.
This feeling was both familiar and unfamiliar.
What was familiar was the person lying next to him.
What was unfamiliar was the position they were in.
Once upon a time, the past events all transpired in Wushan Hall where he was lying on Life-Death Peak. The Immortal Emperor, who had become a lonely man, held Chu Waning in his arms for dear life in the long, breathless darkness.
At that time, he was already higher than Chu Wanning, and his strength was greater than that of his shizun's. His arms were like iron bars of a cage, locking the little remaining warmth in his arms, like holding the last fire burning in the world.
He bowed his head and kissed Chu Wanning's long black hair, and then greedily attached himself to his face, burying deep into the neck of the other, biting and nibbling without pity.
"I hate you, Chu Wanning. I hate you so much."
There was some hoarseness in his voice.
"But you're all I have left."
A violent smash shattered Mo Ran's memories. The sound of gongs and drums suddenly stopped, and there was dead silence surrounding them.
"Shizun. . ."
Chu Wanning stretched out his hand. He touched his lips, and said solemnly: "Don't talk, we're here."
Sure enough, there was no sound of footsteps outside, and there was only dead silence.
Chu Wanning's fingertips ignited in a cluster of pale golden flames and stroked the wall of the coffin to make a narrow opening, just large enough for two people to see through.
Sure enough, they were carried to the outskirts of Caidie Town. The earth temple dedicated to the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was already densely packed with coffins. The fragrance of the butterfly powder in the air became even denser, floating into the coffin through the wood.
Mo Ran suddenly felt something was wrong: "Shizun, do you think that the scent here, as well as the scent in the illusion, seems to be a bit different from the smell in Young Master Chen's coffin?"
". . . What do you mean?"
Mo Ran was more sensitive to the smell. He said: "When we were on the north mountain, the moment the coffin opened, the smell that floated out was very good. Considering it was the butterfly fragrance incense, there was nothing to make me dislike it. But since entering the illusion, I always felt that the smell was similar, but there were some subtle differences. I couldn't figure out what was different, but now. . . I think I probably know."
Chu Wanning looked at him sideways: "You don't like the smell?"
Mo Ran stuck against the gap, still staring outside, and then said: "Yeah. I haven't liked the smell of incense since I was a child. The smell here, and in the illusion, isn't the hundred butterfly fragrance poweder at all, but a special high fragrance used by the people of Caidie Town to burn when worshiping the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. Look there—"
Chu Wanning followed his line of sight and looked at the clay incense burner in front of the earth temple. Sure enough, three arm-thick vertical incense sticks were burning, and they were passing a sweet smell into the wind.
The people in Caidie Town were good at making all kinds of powders from various flowers, so all the fragrances that are used to pray to the gods were made in their own town, and they don't buy them from other places. Since the flowers used are all planted in the outskirts of the town, the smell that turned out wasn't that different from something made by an amateur.
Chu Wanning pondered: "Could it be that the fragrance in the coffin of Young Master Chen had nothing to do with the smell in the illusionary realm?"
Before he could ponder the details of this new discovery, a dazzling red light from the earth temple interrupted his thoughts. The two people hiding in the coffin looked together and saw that the temple was shining brightly, reflecting its brilliant surroundings. There was a row of iron shelves on the side of the temple with red lotus lanterns for making wishes. Those lotus lanterns had originally been extinguished, but now they were all being lit up, one by one.
The boys and girls guarding all the coffins knelt down one after another, chanting: "The Master of Ceremonies has come down to earth to guide us wild ghosts and lonely souls to be free from eternal suffering, to meet a good man, to lie in the same coffin, and to be companions in the Underworld."
Through the sound of chanting, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost in the temple radiated golden immortal light. Then, she lowered her eyelids, slowly moved the corners of her mouth, and leapt off the offering platform.
Her movements were quite elegant and graceful, her appearance a million times more elegant
It's a pity that the body was made of mud and she was too heavy. The girl's house, with a bang, was smashed into a big hole in the ground.
Mo Ran: "Pfft."
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost also seemed dissatisfied with the placement of her feet. She stared at the big pit in the ground for a while before pacing out of the pit and straightening her clothes.
She looked like a woman wearing heavy makeup, dressed in red and green, quite cheerful. In the dark night, it turned its neck and came to the hundred people buried in coffins. The night breeze was full of the stench of corpses. She seemed to be in a better mood. She slowly opened her arms and let out a few giggles.
"If you believe in me and make offerings to me, you will be able to meet a good destiny and complete the lifelong event that you weren't able to complete during your life." The tender voice drifted in the night, and the ghosts kowtowed in excitement.
"Blessings of the Master of Ceremonies--"
"Please let the Master of Ceremonies bless this marriage--"
The pleadings were coming from all around her and the Master of Ceremonies seemed to be enjoying herself. She slowly moved among the rows of coffins, and her long nails scraped against the bright red vermilion lacquered coffin boards, making a sharp and ear-piercing sound.
Mo Ran was curious: "Shizun, I remember you said that demons, immortals, ghosts, gods, humans and the devil belong to the six realms, but this immortal doesn't like in heaven. How come she's with these ghosts in the underground instead?"
"Because it cares about ghost marriages, and her main food source is the offerings of the ghosts." Chu Wanning said. "Ghosts can greatly increase her power, otherwise she wouldn't be able to cultivate her immortal body in only a hundred years. With such benefits, she's happy to stay with her 'friends' in the underworld."
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost walked around the group of coffins and returned to the front. The empty and tender voice rang again: "Open a coffin and I'll bless the marriage. Starting from the left."
Following its order, the first coffin on the left slowly opened, and the golden boy and girl were greeted by the two corpses inside staggeringly crawled out, and the gorgeous flaming red dress made the face of the dead look pale and lifeless.
The married couple slowly approached the Master of Ceremonies Ghost and knelt down.
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost put her hand between them and said: "In the name of the master of ceremonies, I grant you this marriage after death. From now on, you will be husband and wife, man and woman together in joy."
Mo Ran rolled his eyes and muttered: "If you can't write a poem, don't do it. It should be a good marriage vow, so why does it sound so lewd?"
Chu Wanning said coldly: "You have a dirty mind."
Mo Ran shut up.
But it didn't take long for the Master of Ceremonies Ghost to personally prove that it wasn't Mo Ran who was dirty-minded, but the god in charge of the marriage who was the lewd one.
He saw that the married corpses seemed to have swallowed some kind of aphrodisiac. They were already two dead ghosts, but suddenly they began to tear each other’s clothes, feverishly kissing and embracing each other passionately. They were entangled so shamelessly in public.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran: ". . ."
"In the name of the Master of Ceremonies, I give you the joys of heaven. If Yin and Yang can intermingle, what's the harm with life and death!"
The cry of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost became more shrill and much louder.
The movements of the two corpses became more and more exaggerated. After removing the clothes, the male corpse was actually full of passion, full of energy, and no different from a living person.
Mo Ran was stunned: ". . . Is this. . . fucking. . . okay???"
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hpalways · 3 years ago
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Surprises || Childe
a/n: i swear i’ll get to the requests soon akjdhfjfj sorry for the wait dudes. 
BUT YEAHHHHHH ITS CHILDES BIRTHDAY I LOVE U DADDY HAVE A NICE ONE 
THROWING a surprise party for Childe was more difficult than one could imagine. He didn't fully admit it, but he was obviously hurt when no one wished him a happy birthday today. And while everyone went on to set the scene for when you would all surprise him, you were given the role to distract him. As the two of you strolled through the streets of Liyue Harbor, his sea blue eyes darted everywhere agitatedly. Repeatedly letting out a sigh, he combed his gloved hand through his ginger locks. You stifled a giggle at his discomfort, sensing that he was too prideful to outwardly question why his birthday wishes were practically nonexistent this year. 
He peered at you with disappointment, for he wished to hear those words from you more than anyone else. Wondering if his birthday was really that forgettable, he thought back to the day you asked when his birthday was. The two of you shared the dates and he remembered how elated he was on your birthday, buying gifts and spoiling you with his dirty earned mora. He could still see the grin that was stuck to your face the entire day. 
"Thanks for joining me on some errands. I'm almost done," you told him, smiling. Guilt continued to pour into your chest at the sight of him. 
He nodded and forced out a smile, coloring his face with his usual facade. "Anything for you, comrade," he chuckled, ruffling your hair in a habit. "I was bored anyway. It almost feels like there should be something important today, but I suppose there's truly nothing."
You wanted to burst out laughing. He was trying so hard to be discreet about it, but you could easily read behind the lines. "Oh? Nah. There's nothing important today."
"Nothing at all?" he responded, voice hollow. "That's strange. Are you sure?"
"I keep all my important dates on my calendar. It was blank for today."
His flingers curled around his shirt, gripping so tightly they shook. You were very organized, but his birthday wasn't on there. Did he mean nothing to you? Did he care for you more than you did him? He was beginning to feel idiotic -- foolish even. Falling silent as he followed you to the next stall, he watched you buy daily groceries, picking out the biggest fish in the pile and bright fruits from the baskets. He numbly carried the bags, groaning to himself. Maybe he should leave the city and hunt down some hilichurls, skewer them so he could release some of his pent up frustration. 
While he was lost in his head, too busy thinking about his bottled up emotions, you noticed Hu Tao in the distance, making wide signals. She was dramatic as per usual and you glared at her, urging her to hide within the shadows. Quickly turning away from the merchant, you were relieved to know that Childe had not detect anything suspicious. It was showtime. 
"Okay. One more stop," you informed him. 
"I... think I should to go," he responded. "I'll drop your bags back home."
Panic seeped into your expression, your eyes growing wide. Oh no -- this couldn't get any worse. You had to stop him before he could leave, because who knew where he would go next? He was such an unpredictable guy, free to roam wherever he liked with that reputation of his. "It's just one more place," you pointed out, knitting your brows together. "Come on, Childe. It will be really quick. Please?" You gave him the best puppy eyes and slipped a hand in his, squeezing it tightly to feel tingles erupt at the contact.
His head leveled slightly at the feeling of your hand, so he slowly nodded. "Fine. But I'll have to go right afterwards. I have some business to do with the Fatui."
That was a lie. The both of you knew that, but Childe didn't want to seem so lame in front of you. He already felt that enough today to last a lifetime.
You pulled him through the crowds of people lingering on the roads beside buildings, making a beeline to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You ignored the furrow of his forehead when he saw the building looming ahead of him. Before he could voice out any inquiries, you pushed the dark oaken doors open, stepping into the darkness. He stayed by your side loyally, his muscles strained, ready to protect you from the weird atmosphere of the room. 
The curtains dropped, golden sunlight spilling through the windows to reveal the secret. "Happy birthday Childe!" the entire group called out. There stood in the room were dozens of people, including Teucer, Zhongli, Hu Tao, traveler, Paimon, and fellow Liyue citizens. Tables were set up in the Parlor, banners were hung up on the wall, and food were lined up, including a birthday cake. You turned to look at the red haired man, whose irises took it all in, his mouth parting openly. 
"Teucer. You're here!" he gasped, opening his arms wide when his little brother ran up to him. He hugged the boy tenderly, thanking everyone for the throwing the party. They all began to surround Childe, while others mingled and conversed, for the party was starting. 
You faded into the background, leaning against the cool wall and feeling grateful that it was a success. It was a lot of work, but with everyone contributing, it went very well, which was a little strange, considering you half expected it to fall apart.
Footsteps sounded, so you turned to the left to see him approaching you. He looked breathless, his cheeks rosy, and his dimples showing. "The party was your idea, wasn't it?" he stated, rather than in question form. 
Nodding silently, you took something out from your pockets. "Happy birthday, Childe."
You handed it to him and he took it with a softened expression. Unwrapping the gold, shiny wrapping of the small box, he opened it up to find a keychain in it, blue and twinkling. It was carved into a hydro vision, the details exactly aligned to the vision that sat on his torso. 
He kissed you then, crashing his lips upon yours. Hands faltering to the sides, you clenched your fingers around his forgotten present and returned the kiss. He tasted of seasalt and apples, as well as a scent that no doubt came from his homeland. His warmth brushed over to you, spreading through your system and to the tip of your fingers. Your cheeks burned at the contact and your chest pounded, but eventually, you pulled away, embarrassed by the chance of any onlookers.
"There are too many people here," you said, shaking your head, still feeling flustered by the way he looked at you -- as if you were the only thing he could see in this world. He was so unashamed, willing to do anything to grapple at the goal he sought after. He had always been like that. And always will be. 
He raised a brow, the corner of his lips curving up mischievously. "Are you suggesting we get out of here and find a vacant room?"
You hit his arm and he pouted, laughing at your reaction. "How rude," you sniffed. "I threw this entire party for you and you're already willing to ditch it. Don't think I'll forget how desperate you were this entire day."
Embarrassed, he averted his gaze from you, scratching his head with an awkward chuckle. "I didn't care for a party, [Y/N]. All I wanted was to hear a birthday wish from you. I was scared you forgot it."
"I would never forget it. Not in a million years."
His cheeks grew red and he seemed content at your answer. Swinging an arm around you, he lugged you towards the food. Then he rambled on and on about something regarding stuffing himself so he could slay a bunch of enemies. Sitting down at a table, he declared a rematch with traveler. On the other end of the table was Zhongli, going on long tangents to the poor victim who was forced to listen in. Hu Tao was scaring off another customer, suggesting deals like the sales woman she was and suddenly talking about the afterlife. 
Everyone here was so distinct and peculiar, but in a good way. Grateful to be surrounded by such people, you knew that not a day goes by without an adventure. 
"Hey Tuecer," you said to the boy beside you. He was in the middle of playing with Mr. Cyclops, making sound effects with his mouth. "How are you doing, little guy?"
"Hi [Y/N]!" he giggled. "I'm good. Mr. Cyclops is doing good too. He wants to say happy birthday to my big bro too!"
Childe returned from his conversation with traveler and Paimon, on time to ruffle his brother's head like he did with you earlier. "Thank you Mr. Cyclops," he cooed, petting the top of the toy endearingly. You laughed at the scene and he locked eyes with you. "Hey, don't hurt Mr. Cyclops' feelings like that. Right, Teucer?"
"Right," Teucer nodded somberly, growing real serious. 
Ugh, these brothers. You rolled your eyes and tossed food into your mouth. Childe's head abruptly dropped to your ear, his breath hovering upon your lobes. You shivered at his close proximity. "I love you, [Y/N]. You know that, right?" he whispered into your ear. 
Heart hammering for the millionth time this day, you paused with your chopsticks in the air. "I love you too, dumb birthday boy."
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elleclairez · 4 years ago
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The Starless one and his star - Darkling x reader
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Alina didn’t know what to do exactly. She sat silently in an armchair of her chambers in the Little Palace, her gaze focused on the figure of her worst enemy who decided that it would be a marvellous idea to torment her a little by playing tricks with her mind. 
The Starkov girl knew that the Darkling wasn’t really there, but it certainly did not ease her worries in any way at all. The man on the other hand, silently stood, watching young Grisha train with Botkin through the window. No one could guess what was going on inside his head. Saints even he didn’t know why he chose to pay a visit to his enemy. 
The silence in the room was heavy, almost unbearable for the young woman. She wanted to cry, shout and hit the man all at once and yet her body couldn’t move even a little. She was petrified and she couldn’t understand why. Was is fear? Hatred? Anger? Or was it something else stopping her from crying out for help or banishing the man from her mind herself?
The silence didn’t stop until the beautiful, silky voice of the Darkling resonated through the walls of the room.
“Have you ever heard of a young woman by the name of Seren Heijman?” Confusion flashed through Alina’s eyes. Seeing that the Shadow Summoner sighed and added “You might know her as the Star Saint. A bloody ridiculous name if you ask me.” The last sentence was muttered and Alina could barely hear it to properly decipher all the words. But as the words left the man’s mouth, the young Grisha suddenly had old memories of childhood stories crossing her mind. Alina could still remember the tales that Ana Kuya would tell them back at Keramzin. There was one story that Alina always adored, it was about a young, beautiful and selfless woman who chose death to save her comrades and the now long dead king. 
“All I remember is that she died sacrificing herself to save the king and her friends. Let me guess she was Grisha too?” Asked Alina with her brows furrowed. Why would the Darkling talk about Saints with her? 
“I always told you that those tales were propaganda for peasants. Seren was indeed Grisha, a powerful Inferni actually. And no, she did not sacrifice herself as everyone chose to believe. She was killed. Stabbed and left to die alone. Without anyone to save her or to at least be by her side when she would let go of her last breath.” Spat the Darkling with anger. Hatred could be deciphered from his eyes quite easily. It wasn’t hard to understand that this story was quite a sensitive topic for him, but Alina didn’t care. She was too curious as to why the man who was as heartless as a volcra would care so much about a mere woman and her unfortunate fate.
“You knew her didn’t you?” Carefully asked Alina too afraid of his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to anger her enemy. The Darkling chuckled.
“I did not know the martyr that people made of her against her will. I knew a young Kerch Inferni who was too good for this world.” And with those words, the Darkling pulled out a chain out of his pocket, and attached to it were two rings.
Two wedding bands. 
While at court Alina was able to see many jewels but all of them paled in comparison to the beauty of those. It was no doubt Materialki work.
The first was a man’s ring, quite simple, black with silver engravings on it, but it was the second one that caught her eye. A silver ring with black engravings that were too small to be read but big enough to be visible. On top of it, three diamonds were placed. Two were small, white ones looking like stars and the third one in the middle seemed to represent a full black moon.
At the realization, the Sun Summoner gasped.
“You...” Words couldn’t form themselves. Never in a million years could she have guessed that the most heartless man could actually be married. But most importantly it seemed that the marriages was based on love, a feeling that Alina thought the Darkling could not feel.
“Yes, Alina. We were married and loved each other dearly. She was the only one for who I was ready to give the world to on my knees but even more, she was the only one for whom I was ready to give it up. The moment she would have said it, I would have given up everything. The Second army, Ravka, everything.” The Darkling paused to take a breath, eyes full of sadness and grief. “What people say is true. She was everything any person would want to be. Intelligent, beautiful, sarcastic, a real firecracker if you ask me.” At that the Darkling laughed a little, memories seemed to flash in his eyes. “Loving, brave and selfless and yet selfish enough to dream of a peaceful life with me, away from all the fighting. She was the only one that I needed, and yet she was still taken from me.” At those words the man’s fists clenched, knuckles white from tension, his eyes full of hatred and yet still held the same sadness as before. Alina could even feel herself pitying the man.
“What happened?” Almost shakily whispered the raven haired woman. She knew asking that would be dangerous, but she wanted to know what happened.
“The ancestor of our so lovely King Alexander desired her with all his body and could not bear the idea that she chose to marry me and decline his advances. So he did what many Lantsov men did as it seems, he tried to take her by force. But my Seren was powerful, something that the bastard forgot, she burned him but was kind enough to simply leave burns on his hands. She hoped that he wouldn’t approach her from then on but that man, if you can call him a man, was vengeful, so he sent her to Fjerda on a mission, as he said. I was away the day she was sent away, and I only found out a few days later. The moment I received the news I rushed to Fjerda as fast as I could but when I arrived at her camp, it was too late. All I found was dead Ravkan soldiers both otkasatsya and Grisha and when I found her tent I already knew something was wrong, I felt somehow felt it. And there she was in her tent, laying on the ground, eyes blank, a single dried tear on her cheek, the spark that I used to adore in her beautiful orbs, gone. She laid there, on the floor, in a pool of her own blood and all I could do was to stand there, paralysed with this raging urge to destroy the monster who did that to her.” A deathly silence succumbed the room, Alina did not know what to say, and she became even more speechless when she saw a tear run down the Darkling’s cheek. He didn’t look so terrifying anymore but more like the young man that Baghra so desperately tried to save. “From that day I promised myself that I would avenge her. That I would take over Ravka and destroy every person who would think of hurting my and her people, of hurting Grisha people.”
“Make me your villain, Alina Starkov. But even you should see right now that I am not the villain but only the victim. The one who lost too much by the hands of others.” Alina didn’t know what to say, how could she respond after such story? Was she even supposed to respond? Was he even saying the truth? It wouldn’t be a surprising for her that the Darkling was simply playing tricks on her, again.
As if reading her mind, the Shadow Summoner said. “If you don’t believe me, there is proof in a secret drawer of my desk, well your desk now should I say, in the war room, go see for yourself.” At that the Darkling’s figure started to disappear, but Alina had one more question.
“Wait!” The Darkling looked at her expectantly. “I know not all tales are true, but some said that... she was...” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Because if those stories were indeed true then the Darkling would be even less of a monster.
A dark chuckle left his mouth, he knew what she was trying to say. “We were going to name them Elizaveta if it were a girl or Piotr if a boy.” And with those words the man disappeared.
Alina didn’t even notice how tears escaped her eyes but a few minutes later she found herself in the war room, opening the same drawer that the Darkling talked about. 
It was a portrait. An old, small and dusty but still very well-kept one.
On it was painted a young couple, dressed in wedding attires, those same rings on their fingers. Smiles and eyes full of love, so bright that even the painting couldn’t dull the sparkle that they had while looking at each other.
At the bottom of the portrait Alina was able to decipher the writing.
            “Seren and Aleksander Morozova. The Starless One and the Star”
Hope you liked this angsty Aleksander x reader one-shot. Had this idea since I saw the trailer (which is INCREDIBLE by the way) and gotta be honest I literally wrote all of this during my philosophy class because it was better than falling asleep...
If you have a request don’t hesitate to send me a message. You can find all the fandoms I write for in my bio, but I warn you that it may take a little while for me to write it because I’ve been a lot of writer’s block lately....
Ps: Hello! This is me again from the future or present (depends on how you see it). Just wanted to say that I edited the story a little. Again English is not my native language, so there may be some mistakes that I’ve missed, do not hesitate to comment if you see one. Again I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did go check my other ones 😉
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6sakusa · 4 years ago
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‘last’ sakusa kiyoomi.
a/n: so this was a request for and i quote ‘angst that will cause extreme pain.” i hope this lives up to it.
warnings: angst, death & mentione of it, self-blaming, relationship issues.
“you just don’t stop don’t you? is it that hard to be less irritating?” sakusa huffed. the two of you had been engaging in an argument over the pettiest matter once again, and at this point you weren’t even near surprised. it had kicked off with you asking your boyfriend if he had eaten out of concern and then him proceeding to label you as ‘clingy’.
recently things were just different, he wasn’t treating you the same anymore and he barely made time for you. most people would say this was a common occurrence once any relationship had come out of the honeymoon phase, the only problem was you and sakusa were long out of that fairytale whirlwind. but through it all, he still showed immense love towards you, considering you had been together for years you were honestly expecting a proposal soon. but that all changed recently, and to make matters worse you couldn’t for the life of you pinpoint why.
maybe, just maybe.. was there someone else?
“i just care about you that’s it, why are you so adamant on turning things into an argument?” you sighed recalling at the way he snapped at you. his reaction would have shocked anyone but at this point in time, as much as you hated to admit it, you were almost getting used to it now.
but that didn’t mean it hurt any less, no, definitely not. it was just as painful each and everytime you saw the blank expression on his face, the way he went out of his way to avoid you and the growing irritation on his features everytime he was made to face you.
“because you’re annoying.” he blurted out seemingly without thinking, in all truth sakusa definitely did not think you were annoying, actually, he quite loved when you made an effort with him. but lately, he just doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. he loved you with all his heart and he wants to propose to you more than anything but the concept scares him, the fact that the two of you being married would mean you’re practically stuck with him. and he doesn’t want that for you, you deserve better. you deserve someone who is comfortable parading you around to the world, someone who is okay with going out on dates in crowded places, someone who will give you affection whenever you need it, someone who is good with words.
sakusa is not that person.
it would break his heart to see that one day you were regretting your decision of saying yes to him because he couldn’t provide what you needed. so his last resort? push you away. not far enough so that the two of you are no longer together because he couldn’t bare the thought of no longer being able to call you his, but far enough for him to have time to get his shit together, so he could come to you better and improved.
“so you don’t want me to talk to you is that it? God what has gotten into you? do you not want to be together anymore?” your voice faltered towards the end as you broke eye-contact with your boyfriend, tears were threatening to spill any moment and your heart was breaking in your chest. you were a bad person, you were a bad person because you were practically forcing him to stay with you even though it was so clear that he didn’t love you anymore.
well, that’s what you thought.
he stayed quiet at your question.. no, he doesn’t want to break up, that would be catastrophic for the both of you and besides he couldn’t ever love anyone the way he loved you. but if he responded saying he wanted to stay together that would prompt you to spark a conversation about why he was acting the way he was, and if there was one thing sakusa hated it was vulnerability.
“i just need some time to think.” that was a good response, he thought. he wasn’t ending things but you wouldn’t push further after that and he knew that, it was .. perfect.
“i’ll give you some time then.” tears were already staining your new top, you were excited to show it to sakusa because it was one of your favourite purchases you had ever made, but instead you had decided not to, you were weary of bothering him.
of course your tears didn’t go unnoticed by him, he watched as you put your shoes on and grabbed your coat from the hanger. he made a mental note to beat the shit out of himself for making you cry the moment you had stepped foot out of the door, and that’s exactly what he did.
he turned to the counter slamming his hands against his head, he needed to get his shit together and he needed to now.
it had been years and you had never expressed any distaste in sakusa’s personality or his methods of affections, would you really start now? maybe this was all stupid, it wasn’t like he would be forcing you to marry him so if you ended up getting tired of him in the future there wasn’t much he could do about it.
if anything, he knew he would regret not getting to put a ring on your finger at all and never knowing what could have been.
so that’s it, that’s decided. he was going to marry you and he would get it together the second you walked back through the door, he would give you the most loving embrace he could possibly muster up, and he would spend the next few months apologising for his behaviour. he would sit and listen to you babble all about the new top you bought because he did notice how much you had adored it when you had brought it home a week ago. and tomorrow he would go out and buy you a few gifts, there was that necklace that you loved from the quaint jewellery store down the road. that’s where he would be heading to first. because sakusa kiyoomi would do anything for you.
meanwhile you were imagining every possibility that could occur the moment you stepped back in. he would break up with you, it was inevitable. he practically hated you, you were acting like such a burden, an irritating and annoying burden. but you wished more than anything that things could be different because you loved sakusa with your entire being, there was no way you would move on once he discarded you. you had imagined your entire future with him and no one else, there was no way that you could change things now.
you sighed pulling out a polaroid of you and sakusa, the cold air that hit your hands just made you feel that much more alone. but you ignored it as you ran your hands over the picture, it was the two of you during the first christmas you had spent together. he had spoiled you so much that day with gifts that you had cried numerous times and begged him to return atleast half of it because it was way too expensive and you felt bad. you were cheery eyed with a wide smile and a small tear adorned your cheek, one of joy as sakusa hung off your arm. his smile was small but it was there, he was just happy that you were happy, he had loved you so much and you couldn’t help but wonder where it had all gone wrong.
why didn’t he love you anymore?
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sakusa bumped his leg up and down on the livingroom couch, he couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. it had been three hours which was far too long for you to be gone without a word, to make things even worse you had left your phone in your shared bedroom meaning he had no direct method of contacting you.
a buzz resounded in the room and your boyfriend had never moved so fast so pick up the phone in his life, admittedly he was getting severely worried. he didn’t want you walking out of his life, but thankfully by tomorrow he would wake up next to your beautiful smile and everything would go back to normal.
“hello? is this uhh — sakusa kiyoomi?” there was a feminine voice on the other side of the line who sounded cautious about the pronouncation of his name, additionally, her voice sounded unsteady, it was almost as if she was scared.
“yes.” he responded bluntly wondering who this wench thought she was to be wasting his time, she had even called on no caller id. he had half the mind to hang up on her now, if anything you could be calling him this very moment and it was sending you to voicemail because he was occupied with this girl.
“sorry to impose but you are listed as l/n y/n’s emergency contact, are you aware of this?” his back pricked up at the mention of your name, emergency contact? now he was beyond worried.
“yes i am.”
“i’m sorry to say but— l/n was hit by a vehicle moving at almost fifty miles per hour and — she didn’t make it.” in that moment sakusa had never felt more dread in his life, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. was she saying that you were.. dead? but you couldn’t be dead, no you couldn’t be because he never even got to apologise to you, and you never got to accept his apology. he never got to buy you that necklace, things never got to go back to normal, he wouldn’t be able to live out the rest of his days with you.
he never got to propose. so no, you couldn’t be dead.
then why was he crying? this is the first time sakusa remembers crying as an adult, if it wasn’t true why was it feeling like his soul was being sucked out of him? why did it feel like even though he was a well renowned volleyball player loved by millions he meant nothing anymore? why did it feel like life had no meaning?
he didn’t even realise the phone call was still going on until he heard the woman clear her throat on the other line. “she wanted to tell you.. she’s sorry and she loves— loved you.” she corrected her mistake almost immediately but this didn’t do anything but make him feel worse.
“the hospital will contact you with more details soon, sorry for your loss.” and with that, the line went dead.
sorry? she was saying sorry too? and you.. why were you apologising? in your last moments did you really spend that time asking the paramedics to tell him that you were sorry? you hadn’t done anything wrong, you had never done anything wrong, it was all him, he was the problem, he was a fool.
he threw his phone against the wall and watched as it clattered against the floor with tear-filled eyes. this was his fault, if it wasn’t for him you would never have gone out, maybe if it was just one second later, maybe if hadn’t acted this way, maybe if he had stopped you from leaving, maybe—
so that was it.. even if he thought he was doing everything he could to protect you he had hurt you anyway, in the worst way possible. and how could he forgive himself? he never would.. he never could. because that day he lost everything, because you were his everything, the most precious thing to enter his life, his pride and joy, his entire life.
you were too distracted by the picture of the two of you together, now it laid discarded on the side of the road with a streak of blood staining the bottom half. thankfully the picture was still recognisable, because you made sure it was in your last moments, kiyoomi would be mad if you got it dirty.
regret was an understatement.
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jaesqueso · 3 years ago
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requested
pairing: jaehyun x reader
genre: fluff, idol au!
word count: 1,170
warnings: it gets a tiny little bit suggestive in the end
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You wake up and the first thing you do is check your phone. You palms are already sweaty and your heart beats faster as you anticipate what you’re going to read online. Is everybody bashing you? Do they think you’re using him? Could you be receiving death threats already? The million thoughts in your head disperse as an arm wraps around your waist and a face snuggles on your neck. You take a deep breath and open the web.
“So, what are they saying?” A husky voice comes from behind you.
Silence.
“That bad?” He lifts his head to look at your phone.
“They…” You try to make up a sentence. “They love us!”
“Of course they do, we’re adorable.” Kisses are spread all across your neck and a big smile grows on your face.
⌜BREAKING NEWS⌟
SM confirms relationship between NCT’s Jaehyun and voice actress Y/N
Earlier this week Dispatch released pictures from an alleged date between the NCT singer and the actress. Netizens were quick to comment trying to understand if the two were in a relationship. This morning SM Entertainment, home agency for both artists, confirmed the two had gotten close and ultimately engaged in a romantic relationship. The company supports both artists and hopes fans will be supportive too. No statements have been made by either Jaehyun or Y/N.
Comment (99+):
At first I was sad Jaehyun had a girlfriend, but they look so cute together T_T
Ah~ they make such an adorable couple~
Both of them are amazing artists, I’m glad they found love on each other!
Am I the only one who wants to see more of them? SM please let them work together~
Jaehyun has been acting lately, should we wait to see them on screen? <3
Please let’s support this new power couple!!!
(…)
You and Jaehyun met at a company event two years ago and since he had been interested in starting his acting career you two talked all night even exchanging phone numbers. In the following weeks you got closer, not only talking about work but also getting to know each other, and eventually love started to blossom.
In the beginning you tried to be as discreet as possible, not even the other NCT members knew. That worked out for the first few months but eventually they all found out promising to keep it a secret as they’re very supportive of the relationship.
As for the company, some people were suspicious but had no proof until Dispatch decided you two would be the new couple revealed in their famous New Year’s tradition. Of course you two were automatically called to discuss the matter and SM decided it would be better to go ahead and confirm the rumours.
Both you and Jaehyun were nervous about the public’s reaction, although he kept saying no matter what the netizens say he will always love you and stay by your side and when you look into his eyes you know that’s true.
And now reading the (mainly) positive comments you two couldn’t be happier.
You then get a call from your manager to attend a meeting and Jaehyun gets the same from his own manager. You too get ready but decide to go separately, still uneasy about the relationship being public now.
“Y/N, Jaehyun, please sit.”
You two sit down looking around the room and feeling nervous about what’s going to be discussed.
“We have been tracking the online reaction to the news of your relationship and you have most people on your side!”
You and Jaehyun exchange looks adorned with shy smiles.
“And reading some of them closely, a lot of people are eager to see you together on screen.”
You two widen your eyes not expecting that opinion.
“Jaehyun, as you know we are preparing your solo debut and you will shoot the music video soon.”
He hesitantly nods not really understanding what that has to do with the current situation.
“Y/N, we know you have been focusing on voice acting but how would you feel about staring in Jaehyun’s music video?”
You almost choke at the unexpected offer.
They give you two sometime to talk about it and ultimately you decide to accept the offer as it will be just a few scenes.
On the day of the shooting your knees are shaking as you enter the set. Jaehyun was already working and you are left in awe at how good he looks performing the choreography as water drips down on him making the thin clothes he’s wearing stick to his incredible body… You shake the vision off your head and walk to hair and make up.
You gasp as they show you the outfit you’ll be wearing for the scene. It’s a form fitting dress and considering the guidelines they provided you suddenly feel shy that you’ll be so close to Jaehyun dressed like that.
You walk out of the dressing room and notice your boyfriend checking some footage with the music video director. You notice he already changed clothes ready to shoot the next scene. Once he notices you his jaw drops. He excuses himself from the director and walks towards you.
“Y/N… You look incredible…” He takes your hand spinning you around to get a good look at all of you.
“Jaehyun, stop.” You murmur already feeling your cheeks burning up.
“Ok, let’s start!” The director announces and everybody goes to their place.
The scenes consist in you two dancing in the club in the middle of the crowd, then the rest of the people will disappear and you’ll dance your way towards each other but once you’re close you’ll runaway from the dance floor and Jaehyun will chase you into the hall, holding you as he sings into your ear.
Everything was going great until you’re pressed against the fake set wall, his body way to close to yours, his hand griping tightly on your waist and his hot breath against your ear as he whispered his seductive lyrics. You feel shy again remembering everybody around watching you two.
“Cut! Let’s do it again from the top!” The director shouts and then turns to you. “Y/N, you are a bit tense, could you make it more relaxed and natural please?”
You gulp and nod at the instructions. As you and Jaehyun walk back to the initial spot, he comes close and whispers in your ear.
“Why are you so shy baby? It’s not like I’ve never pressed you against a wall before.”
You widen your eyes and lightly hit his arm.
“Jaehyun, don’t say those things here.” You murmur looking around to see if anyone might have heard him.
“Ok, I’ll stop… For now. Later tonight, when I press you against your apartment’s wall, I want the whole building to know my name.”
He winks with a grin as you are left all hot and bothered anticipating what’ll happen later. How the hell are you supposed to nail this scene now?
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fruitcoops · 4 years ago
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Accidental Family
Hey folks! This is one of two fics for the six month celebration of this blog! Woohoo! Blood on the Ice is one of the most popular series I've written, and expanding it into Josie’s (@prohibitionincurls ) Winging It world with her was unbelievably fun. Disclaimer: one of the OCs has ADHD and it is a central theme of the story--while Josie based some of his characteristics on her own experience, we both recognize that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Thank you again for six amazing months, and I hope you enjoy!
Lots of love,
Eve <3
TW for mentioned injury
“Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me,” the kid whispered in a wavering voice, sounding much younger than he actually was as he left the penalty box.
“They’re not going to kill you,” Bowie soothed, still watching the tunnel where Remus had disappeared mere minutes earlier. From what he saw, there had been a bit of blood, but the bruising didn’t look too bad. Then again, there had barely been enough time for anything to visibly swell before he was whisked away.
“Can I just stay in the box?” Felix cast a look toward the Lions bench and his voice cracked. “They can’t yell at me in the box, right?”
“Hey. Look at me, Marty.” Bowie took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “The Lions are good guys. They’re not going to hurt you, but you did just fuck up one of their best friends. What would you do if someone hit me in the face?”
“Come on, man, I’m a terrible fighter. I don’t know how well I’d be able to defend your honor after something like that. It was an accident. Do you think they know it was an accident? Should I go tell them?”
“I know. They know. Loops definitely knows. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little cold at first.” He ruffled the rookie’s hair and turned back to the game; the Lions were moving fast and brutal, slicing right through their defense for yet another goal. Shit. Felix clearly felt bad enough already--losing the game wouldn’t make him feel any better. 
They ended up losing the game.
Bowie had figured it might happen; he would have had the same fire if it had been his teammate that got clocked like that. Hell, he used to have the same fire when he and Remus had played together, so he completely understood. 
That did not change the fact that once they got home, Felix was still borderline inconsolable. The 18-year-old wasn’t technically billeting with them, but the apartment he was renting just so happened to be in the same building, on the same floor, and right across the hall from his and Simon’s. This led to an informal adoption of the rookie and he was around their house at least five times a week, if not more. 
Felix Martin was a good kid, and that idea was confirmed when Kronk immediately took a liking to him; the cat loved nobody but the three of them. Bowie was grateful that he and Simon were there to quell some of the homesickness that came from moving out to a new city on his own for the first time. The transition was always tough, but they could provide a little support.
They parted ways from the team when the bus got back from the rink and drove to their building in silence. Once they made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Felix moved to go back to his apartment. 
“Nope,” Bowie said immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him through the door to his and Simon’s place. It wasn’t a good idea for Felix to be alone right now--there was nothing to do alone after a loss aside from beat himself up about it, and Bowie would be damned before he let that happen. 
Simon and Kronk were perched on the couch, but they both moved into the kitchen as soon as the door clicked closed. Simon took one look at the pair and carefully wrapped his arms around Felix; the kid practically melted. The three of them stood there for a moment until Simon pulled back a bit and tilted his head toward the living room. Felix nodded and Bowie followed the two, sharing the couch with Simon while the rookie curled up in the large armchair diagonal to them. 
He...well, if Bowie was being honest, Felix looked like hell. He chewed his lower lip like an anxious beaver and fiddled with the loose threads of the closest armrest; everything about him screamed discomfort. Bowie caught Simon’s worried glance in his periphery and let out a slow breath, trying to relieve at least a little of the tension in the room.
“You don’t have to relive it if you don’t want to. I saw the game. But if you want to talk about it…” Simon trailed off with a significant look.
Felix sighed and his shoulders caved in a bit. “It was just one of those moments. All of a sudden, I didn’t really have a grasp on what was going on, which feels like shit because I’ve been doing pretty well so far. I dunno. It was just...bad.” 
That was it. Bowie knew Felix had seemed a little off. When Felix mentioned he had ADHD at the start of the season during one of their ‘getting to know your neighbor’ chats, Bowie hadn’t thought much of it. But as they grew closer, he began to notice when Felix forgot to eat or drink, or got overwhelmingly excited about something, or when he suddenly spaced out. It wasn’t just Felix being Felix.
The whole team stepped up and became intensely protective, of course. They not only helped him remember meal times, but also scheduling, directions, and everything in between. Bowie felt especially responsible for reasons he didn’t entirely understand--there was just something about the kid’s sweet heart that struck a chord.
He also knew that Felix was highly emotionally intelligent, but had no concept of whether people liked him or not. He was someone who assumed the worst, all the time. So, Bowie decided to do the only thing he knew would work: after a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, he pulled his phone out, tapped a few buttons, and pressed ‘call’.
“Hey, Remus, are you alive?” 
An amused snort came from the speaker even as Felix blanched. “Hello to you, too, Bowie. Jeez, you’re worse than Sirius.  I’m one hundred percent alive, just a little swollen. Your rookie’s got a helluva shot, but maybe tell the kid to hit the puck and not my face next time.” 
Felix flushed red and put his face between his knees, though hearing the laughter in Remus’s voice and knowing that he was okay clearly took some of the weight off his shoulders. Bowie whooped internally and shot him a quick, reassuring smile.
“Yeah, the kid’s got spirit, but he’s also got ADHD. He’s great most of the time, but sometimes under extreme pressure he can’t figure out where the fuck he--or anything else around him--is. Something about focusing or neurons firing the wrong way, maybe? Either way, it’s why he’s a terrible fuckin’ driver.”
Felix flopped back against the chair with a groan. “How the hell am I supposed to know how far away the cars around me are based on the mirrors? And how am I supposed to park?!” 
Remus’s laugh echoed once again. “Don’t ask me, kid, I’m not allowed to drive, either. Not because I’m ADHD, but because I’m terrible at it.” 
“You can say that again!” a muffled voice called from behind Remus. 
“Please excuse my fiance,” Remus said politely. “He’s a jackass who’s trying to make me lay down again.”
Felix smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize earlier. That stick was totally on me. And--I mean, I heard some of the guys talking afterward and it sounded like you got pretty banged up, so I’m really sorry. Like, really sorry.”
“Hey, woah, you’re fine,” Remus soothed. Bowie recognized his ‘talking to newbies’ voice and hid a smile in the cuff of his hoodie. “It’s the name of the game, after all. Did Bowie ever tell you about the time I accidentally checked him into a wall? Or when I broke his visor with a puck? For context, this was when we were on the same team.”
“Or that time you kicked my legs out from under me and sent me sprawling across the ice during practice.”
“That one was on purpose.” 
Bowie glared at the phone, but Felix was snickering and his grin was genuine. It calmed him a bit. “Thanks, Loops.”
“No problem, kiddo.” Remus paused for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible to someone in the background before clearing his throat. “Bowie.”
“Yes?” Remus had never been a wild card, per se, but he certainly had a knack for asking strange questions out of the blue.
“Did you accidentally adopt a child or do my ears deceive me?”
Bowie was about to laugh at the absurdity of it, but then he took a moment to think, looking back and forth between Simon and Felix. “Fuckin’--maybe I did, Re, but he’s ours now. And if that’s the case, I’m going to formally request that you tell your fiance to quit being mean to my son.”
Remus laughed on the other end of the line. “Will do. Felix seems like a sweetheart, I’m glad he’s got you two.” 
Bowie nodded with a slight smile, even though Remus couldn’t see him. “So are we. I can practically sense Sirius hovering, so go let your boyfriend fuss over you for a little while.” 
An offended noise came from Remus’s side, followed by a lower laugh and the click of the call ending. 
Simon looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I’m seconding the ‘kid’ thing. You may just barely be a legal adult, but it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt you. Congrats on your new gay dads.” 
Felix’s bright laugh sent a wave of relief through Bowie. “You guys are only, like, eight years older than me.”
“Silence, spawn,” Simon said, pointing a playful finger at him as his grin widened into something sweet and lopsided. “Now both of you need to come eat something. I made cookies while you were getting pushed around for a living.”
Bowie was still worried about Remus’ face--he made a mental note to call the next day to check in--but all his concerns disappeared as Felix scooped the cat up for a snuggle and followed Simon into the kitchen. They may have lost the game, but he would lose a million Cups to keep that moment forever: his Simon fussing over them both, his cat purring in pure bliss, and his kid settling into place at last.
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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago
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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 22
Hannibal and y/n arrive at Camp Big Brother and receive an unusual greeting.
@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon
Trigger warnings: guns, threats of violence, cult stuff, brief mention of North Korea 
The car ride up to the mountain introduced you to a new feeling. You thought it similar to that of prisoners on their way to be executed. The comfortable numbness of accepting your rapidly-approaching demise. 
The road only brought you so far. It turned into a dirt path, which then turned into just the imprint of tire tracks. Your car wasn’t equipped for mountainous terrain, so you had to get out and walk. You weren’t ill-prepared for a hike; you made a point to change clothes before leaving the house, and your work shoes were worn-in enough to withstand a trek through the forest. You only feared losing one of your gloves.
It was Hannibal you were worried about. You’d never seen him in anything but a full three-piece suit and today was no exception. He’d taken off his jacket and vest, but having to hike in suit pants and dress shoes was far from ideal. 
You were in the middle of a game of ‘how many 12 gauge bullets can I fit on my person’ when you heard the rumbling of an ATV coming down the track. You loaded a shell into the gun and watched it turn the corner and stop in front of you. Hannibal stood behind you, looking dignified as ever. 
The driver dismounted the vehicle and took off their helmet. The woman beneath the helmet looked like she’d either lived a hard 20 years or an easy 50 years. You didn’t pay much attention to her face. She looked nourished and had a head full of hair, so she wasn’t one of Chase’s slaves. 
“Are you ‘prefect’?” You asked, squinting at her from behind the gun. “Or ‘Aunt Lydia’?” 
“You must be [F/N] [L/N].” The woman said. “Vanguard sent me to pick you up, but didn’t say anything about a guest.” 
“What’s to stop me from blasting your head off, taking that ATV and going up there myself?” You spat. 
The woman disregarded your question. She pulled a walkie-talkie from her belt and clicked it on. “Vanguard, [L/N] is here and she brought a friend.” 
The device crackled, then Chase spoke. “Is it a cop?” 
The woman scanned Hannibal up and down. “No.” 
“Let her off with a warning, then.” Chase instructed. “She knew the rules.” 
“You heard the man.” She pulled a pistol from her holster and pointed it at Hannibal with full intentions to shoot him dead. He put his hands behind his head, but didn’t seem at all fazed. 
You aimed the gun at the woman’s head. “I don’t think you want to do that.” 
“Don’t waste your ammo, love.” Hannibal said to you. “She’s obviously bluffing.” 
“You want to find out?” She pulled the hammer back. 
“Hannibal, she’s not bluffing!” Your voice started to shake. 
“Yes she is, darling.” He insisted. “Nobody would be stupid enough to fire off a shot this close to an active naval base.” 
She lowered her pistol. “What are you talking about, there’s no military base up here.” 
“Of course there is.” He refuted. “Camp David is within a few miles of here.”
For a moment, she looked genuinely fearful. You thought you saw her cult mask begin to slip as she remembered that there was a world outside of the one Chase cultivated. 
“Oh.” Hannibal feigned surprise. “That is, unless, Chase Mulvaney didn’t tell you.” 
The woman narrowed her eyes. “I’m his right-hand woman, he tells me everything.” 
Hannibal clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it seems he sees you as just as disposable as Catherine Miller. He sent you down here to kill anyone [F/N] brought along with her, catching the attention of the military personnel on base and ultimately throwing you under the bus.” 
“He wouldn’t.” She snapped. “Chase loves me like a sister.”
“I’ll bet that’s what he tells the other girls.” You commented. 
Judging by the look on her face, you were right. And you struck a nerve. 
“But, if you are so inclined to do Chase’s dirty work for him,” Hannibal said, loosening his collar. “At least try not to get blood on my suit pants.” 
She held the gun out for a few moments, then dropped it. “He would want to kill you himself.”
“That’s more like it.” You said, mounting the vehicle with your gun slung over your back. 
“Vanguard doesn’t mind two armed strangers on his property?” Hannibal asked, having to yell over the revving of the engine. 
The woman scoffed. “It doesn’t make any difference. Bullets don’t work on Vanguard.” 
You furrowed your brow. “What?” 
“Vanguard is blessed with the armor of Christ.” She said, with 100% conviction. There wasn’t a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice. “No bullets can pierce his earthly flesh.” 
“Do you actually believe what you’re saying, or is this all some kind of fucked-up extended metaphor?” You asked. 
“Vanguard proved it in chapel.” She insisted. “He fired a gun at his chest and it didn’t puncture him! The bullet just crumpled against his chest.”
“Wow.” You said, flatly. This person’s rationality was so scrubbed away, she could be fooled by even the lamest of magic tricks. 
“The people of North Korea believe that Kim-Jong Il is responsible for inventing the hamburger.” Hannibal whispered to you. “Because they don’t have access to any information that proves otherwise.” 
“Yeah, we’re about to ‘prove otherwise’ alright.” You muttered back with a smile. 
After a few minutes, the outline of a building appeared. As you grew closer, you saw a cheaply-constructed cabin made for quantity, not quality. Next to it was a chapel, but it was only identifiable as such because of the massive cross. With industrial metal siding and no visible windows, it resembled a bomb shelter. 
The woman unceremoniously dumped you both off the ATV at an opening in the razor wire fence.
"Morning devotional is at eight." She explained. "You'll hear the bell ring. You'll be expected to attend, of course."
"I don't give a shit what you expect." You shook your head. "I don't owe you fucks anything."
"But you owe Jesus everything." She said, matter-of-factually.
“What in the Midsommar fuck is this?” You said, squinting in the early daylight. 
“Come on.” Hannibal took your gloved hand in his. “Let’s find our Will.” 
The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains off in the distance, coloring the sky as red as the blood on Chase's hands.
"It's going to be light soon." Hannibal whispered. "We only have so long before people start to wake up."
"So where do we check first?" You asked.
"At eight, the chapel will be full and the cabin will be empty." Hannibal pointed out. "That gives us fifteen minutes to search the chapel until people start filing in."
You nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
You snuck towards the entrance to the chapel and crept inside without a sound. One look and you knew you had a lot of ground to cover in only fifteen minutes.
The chapel looked like the inside of a shipping container. You knew that growing up Catholic gave you a certain image of how church should look, but this was hardly a structure, let alone a place of worship. Much like the outside, the only feature that identified this building as a church was the massive cross, which was not even mounted on the wall or suspended from the ceiling. It just laid lazily against the back wall. A couple of folding tables with some linens draped over them made up a bare-bones altar, decorated with nothing but a couple of candles. The high windows gave the chilling feeling that the room was underground.
"You'd think with ninety million dollars, they could afford some real chairs." You commented, looking disgustedly at the rows of folding chairs.
"This isn't a summer camp." Hannibal observed. "This is a military base."
Your foot hit a loose tile on the ground. You took a knee and grabbed it. A whole patch of tiles lifted with it, revealing a small secret door. 
“I think you might be on to something.” You said, looking up at Hannibal. 
You slung your gun over your back and carefully descended the ladder while Hannibal kept watch. 
“It’s dark down here.” You called up. You heard the striking of a match and Hannibal handed you a lit candle. You were about to thank him when the sharp tones of a bell cut through the silence. 
“Shit.” You cursed. “Hannibal, close the hatch.” 
“I’m not going to leave you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened. 
“This bunker is narrow as Christ’s asshole.” You said. “I can handle it. You need to investigate the cabin.” 
“Darling-” 
“Go to the cabin. Now.” You demanded. “I’m not asking.” 
Hannibal smiled down at you, feeling a sense of pride. He knelt down beside the trap door, and reached for your hand. He removed your glove and pressed his lips against your skin. “Godspeed, my indulgence.” 
You saluted. “And also with you.” 
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