#been traveling the past several days and will be traveling/busy again right when the beta starts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hajimesh · 4 years ago

Text

𝙩��𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader

[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]

the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?

(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)

⥅ word c. 7,928

⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare

⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix

special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡

ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing

if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.

“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”

“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”

“you’re a disgrace.”

sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.

“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”

after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.

the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.

since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.

when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.

“iwa-chan!”

your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.

“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.

the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”

“hanamaki isn’t here.”

the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.

“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.

both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.

“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”

he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.

“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”

his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”

oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.

it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.

“i’m lost.”

oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.

iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.

“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”

a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.

“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”

“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”

both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.

“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.

oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.

“shall we go, then?”

—

“alright, ground rules.”

just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.

with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.

“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”

you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.

“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”

a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner.

“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.

“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”

“shut it, miya.”

clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”

he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?

“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”

“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”

two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”

his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.

you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.

“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”

sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.

“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”

meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you.

the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started.

suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.

“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.

his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.

“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”

“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”

his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.

“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.

in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.

they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.

“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”

“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”

suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.

“open up.”

your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue.

“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.”

a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.

“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.

your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.

“hurry up before i start fucking her.”

a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.

“someone’s hungry,” he muses.

you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.

“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”

you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more.

“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.

it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.

“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”

said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”

it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“oh! uhh, green.”

atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.

“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.

suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.

“thought you had forgotten about me.”

he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.

“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.

“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”

“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”

a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock.

“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.

“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”

your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.

his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.

“can’t say i hate it.”

you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.

a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.

“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.

your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.

“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.

moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.

“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.

his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.

it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.

“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.

“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”

with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.

atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”

all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth.

“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.

you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.

“here.”

suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.

“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.

you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head.

“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.

after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.

“who’s next?”

your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.

“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”

the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.

“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”

his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”

meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.

”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.

“dibs on your mouth!”

you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.

“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.

“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”

he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.

“o-okay.”

the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.

“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”

“s’okay bo, come here.”

he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.

you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.

a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.

“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”

you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.

but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.

“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”

oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants.

“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”

his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you.

a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.

“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”

he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.

“do you want to leave?”

at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”

relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.

“kiss me, tobio.”

and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.

noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.

in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.

gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”

“get in line!”

“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”

“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”

the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.

at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”

“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”

bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.

“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”

you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it.

the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.

“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”

you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.

“i’m still here.”

gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.

kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off.

the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.

“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”

your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.

he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.

“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”

the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”

your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it.

but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.

“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”

“oi!” “not true!”

you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”

gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.

“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”

your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.

“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”

your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”

you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.

the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”

“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.

“i never said i was.”

bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.

“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.

giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”

the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.

“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”

gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.

“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, baby.”

one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.

kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest.

“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.

you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.

gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.

“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”

you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”

“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”

“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”

kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.

“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”

you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.

“mm, that’d be nice.”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”

in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.

“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”

your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”

you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.

both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings.

“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.

“mhm.”

the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.

“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”

“green.”

oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.

at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.

before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.

“hajime…”

“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”

iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.

whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.

“so cute.”

another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”

“tooru,” he interrupts you.

“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”

“of course, princess.”

he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot.

you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.

“iwa– faster, please.”

he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.

“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!”

“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.

you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.

hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.

he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”

he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.

“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair.

“wait- i think i have a better idea.”

hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him.

“you can sit on my lap now.”

your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.

“what are you–”

“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”

said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”

you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”

“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”

your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.

“i’ll take that as a no.”

“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”

“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.

oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”

after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”

seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.

“think you can suck me off?”

they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.

“my turn.”

oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.

the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.

“enjoying yourself, princess?”

you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.

the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.

“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”

“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”

you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.

iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”

“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”

he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.

“whenever you’re ready.”

you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”

oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.

hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.

“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”

hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.

“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”

you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.

but his words catch someone else’s attention.

“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”

you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“answer me.”

oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.

“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.

“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”

a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“s-shoyo!”

“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”

something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”

you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.

you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars.

“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.

you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.

“you can cum wherever you want.”

“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”

iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”

with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.

hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”

he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.

you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.

“holy shit.”

both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.

you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.

“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”

iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.

the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.

all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.

—

consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.

in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.

you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.

but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.

when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.

‘hajime’

your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.

hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.

and i thought you’d like to see this.

there’s a link attached at the end of the message.

you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.

‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’

you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.

with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.

it’s our turn to take care of you.

12K notes · View notes

doiefy · 4 years ago

Text

blue // na jaemin

“The winter has passed and the spring has come We have withered and our hearts are bruised from longing”

- blue, bigbang

In which one ceases to age until they find their soulmate, with whom they then grow old. In which everyone has moved on without you.

genre: soulmate!au, fluff, angst, slow burn

pairings: jaemin x female reader (written with a female character in mind, but it can easily be gender neutral!), features relationships with other dream members, briefly mentions haechan x jeno

word count: 11.6 k

warnings: language, mentions of alcohol and smoking, mentions of war, mentions of death, discussions of Korea under Japanese occupation, some of the historical references may be inaccurate.

taglist (DM, comment or Ask to be added): @simplicitysbabe Big thank you to @neojaems for beta reading this for me !! <333

spotify playlist

Your test comes back blue.

When you rip open the envelope containing your results, you find the little coloured square hidden between pages and pages of lab protocols, testing procedures and other nonsense you know no one actually has the time to read. Then there are the stupid pamphlets, the ones with overtly bright and bubbly messages reassuring people that they’ll find their “special someone” soon, slogans most likely written by people who found their soulmates before they even turned twenty. You scoff, shoving the useless papers back into the envelope and recalling the first time you tested back in 1945, right after the war. The receptionist wrote your results down on a piece of paper and nonchalantly told you to have your emotional breakdown outside.

Now you stare at the blue marking on your paper blankly. It simply means you haven’t aged biologically in ten years, but when you haven’t aged in decades, it means nothing. While the world progresses, you remain frozen in the same body, playing a cruel game with fate. And as with any game that one cannot win, you’ve slowly become bored with it, allowing it to take its course while you sit idle nearby. You feel only disappointed, and not even perplexed or surprised in the slightest. Something about meeting Jaemin just seemed too good to be true; after a lifetime of misfortune and failure, something about the bad news feels… expected. Inevitable. As if unconsciously, you knew he wasn’t the one.

Na Jaemin is not your soulmate. And you spend the walk home contemplating how you’ll tell him this.

When you unlock the door to your shared apartment, you know he’s already home, and earlier than usual: his shoes are placed meticulously on the rack by the door and his jacket is hung up next to the messenger bag he takes to work. The living room smells faintly of the pine and vanilla candle you bought last month, and you smell traces of shampoo and bodywash from the bathroom.

“I’m home!” you call out as you kick your shoes off and put them neatly next to Jaemin’s. There’s a muffled response of your name before the door to your room opens. Then his arms are around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he mumbles a tired greeting.

“Bad day?” You ask softly, pushing all your other thoughts to the back of your head. He looks exhausted. His hair is tucked messily under the hood of his navy sweater, still damp from the shower he took earlier. His eyes lack the usual brightness you often find yourself so immersed in, replaced with the fatigue and weariness he almost never brings home.

“I hate this company,” he sighs as you run your fingers through his hair. You feel him relax in your arms a bit. “My boss is a dick, everyone in my department hates each other and the coffee tastes like actual ass. Maybe I should just quit while I still can.”

You frown. “Jaem, you’ve been with them for literally a month. You can’t possibly be thinking about quitting already.”

“A month! A month in and I’m already having mental breakdowns under my desk at lunch. Imagine what will become of me if I spend a year there,” he scowls, but his expression softens when you kiss him reassuringly on the cheek. “Alright, alright, fine, maybe not quit, maybe I’ll just take a long, long, vacation and then retire… Move to the countryside with you…” He trails off dreamily and for a moment, you lose yourself in the fantasy he’s painted for you. The mental image of a quaint house by the ocean is quickly shattered when you remember the test results hidden in your bag. The sunflowers you envisioned surrounding the cottage are blown away in the wind, their bright yellow petals swallowed by the blueness of the sky.

“Oh, you wish,” you laugh, quickly pressing your lips to his in hopes that he won’t see your expression, that he won’t see the sadness and regret you’re fighting to suppress. “Maybe, baby, maybe one day we can do that.”

“Maybe,” he laughs, his face lighting up with the energy and liveliness that has been missing. “But enough about me. How was your day, love?”

“Mm. The same old,” you say, pulling out of his arms so you can finally take your jacket off. You crash into the couch where you fold up your scarf and toss it aside. “Stressful.”

He stares at you for a hard moment, visibly concerned as if he can tell there’s something troubling on your mind. “Is something the matter?” He asks carefully, sitting down next to you. He holds you at arm’s length so he can look at you properly. “Is this about the test?”

“What? Oh, no, not the test. I doubt the results will come in until sometime next week.” The lie slips out easier than it should, and you feel guilt slowly start to twist your insides. Just a white lie, you tell yourself. It can’t hurt anyone but yourself. He’s been through enough today. He’s tired. Not tonight. It can wait. “I’m just tired,” you shrug. “I need some dinner and a nap, then I’ll be all good again. Do we still have anything in the fridge or should we order takeout?”

“I already ordered chicken from Yong’s. I had a feeling that today would be a bad day for the both of us,” Jaemin grins. His smile is smug at first, then endearing when he sees your shock.

You practically pounce on him in excitement, and the two of you go crashing into the couch cushions until you have him pinned beneath you. “Oh my god, I fucking love you, you know that?”

Jaemin groans, curling into himself as he gives you a wounded look. “And that’s how you show your love? By trying to break my bones?”

“Besides the point,” you huff. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Yes, of course. I love you too.”

Unsatisfied with his answer, you lower your face so your lips are hovering just inches above his. He looks up at you starry-eyed, his fingers ghosting over your cheeks; you can’t help but notice the way his gaze travels briefly to your lips.

Then you realize how dangerous this is. You know that he’s not the one. You know that you’ll eventually part ways with him when he finds out, no matter how reluctant you’ll feel. Every moment you spend with him like this will come back to haunt you when he’s gone. It will become another reminder of what you’re about to lose, yet here you are, falling deeper into his embrace, intoxicated by his scent and lost in the depth of his eyes. You are only tying more strings between the two of you, strings that will need to be stretched and snapped. You are only making it more painful for the both of you.

But for tonight, you don’t care.

“Say it like you mean it,” you whisper.

He holds your face gently, and those sparks you felt upon your first meeting with him are still there, igniting each time he looks at you, blazing into an open flame when he tells you, “I love you.”

You kiss him with more urgency this time, your lips meeting his in a clash of teeth and tongue. He puts his hands around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. For just a moment, you’re focused on only him and his presence. For just a moment, you forget about everything; the sheet of test results is just another piece of paper in your bag, the blue mark just another colour. Because tonight, he is all that matters to you.

You met Na Jaemin almost three years ago.

Though the details have faded with time, you remember your first conversation well. It began at a friend’s art show beneath the golden glow of the studio lights, the two of you surrounded by brilliant splashes of colour and bold strokes of texture. Renjun had insisted on introducing you to Jaemin before you even arrived at the gallery, and you couldn’t have possibly refused. Your friendship with Renjun goes way back to the 40s, and you often think he knows you better than you know yourself. “I think he could be good for you,” he told you quietly just before leaving to speak with his other guests.

At first, Jaemin seemed timeless. It was as if he didn’t belong to any particular time period, as if he had lived to see several generations rise and fall, but had never risen or fallen with any of them. Dressed elegantly in a fitted turtleneck and a wool coat, he appeared youthful and contemporary; yet the way he spoke hinted at a certain maturity, at wisdom and sagacity. There was something charming about him too, something about the way he recounted events of the past and drew you in with only his words.

Next to a breathtaking oil painting of the sea, you discovered your commonalities. He was almost two decades younger, but like you, had spent his entire life searching for a partner without much success. You were delighted to learn that he had also worked in teaching—though he mentioned changing careers frequently whenever things became too mundane. He was effortlessly intriguing, and every word he spoke was lively and animated. He infused your conversations with colours, painted everything in bright yellows and aquamarines that matched the swirling paint strokes of the artworks around you, left you wanting to know more without even trying.

You left the gallery that night with his number in your coat pocket. Needless to say, Renjun was thrilled.

Weeks passed before you saw him again. Your busy schedules always managed to get in the way of your plans, but the two of you still kept in touch, chatting late into the night and well into the early hours. As the months went by, you dared to hope that maybe he was the one.

You immediately scolded yourself for being naive. With all your past partners, you had been hopeful in the same way, only to be let down in the end. Your test when you were with Donghyuck came back blue, as did the one with Mark. Both have since moved on, found their soulmates and written their happy endings. Even if you still stay in touch and meet up for an occasional coffee, you know that you are only a distant memory to them in some way or another.

The prospect of the same thing happening with Jaemin had never occurred to you—you’d been so caught up in getting to know him, so blinded that you’d completely forgotten. And then you saw him differently. As if he were a flame that could be snuffed out in an instant, a feather that could be sent flying with the slightest breeze, the slightest breath. You mulled over it for weeks and always did so silently, until it finally came up in conversation.

Almost a year had passed since you’d met him. With the summer coming to an end, the two of you had driven down to the Han River where you sat in the open trunk of his car, sharing a can of cheap beer from the convenience store. There were no words, only the faint melody of an old pop song buzzing from your phone and his hand around yours.

“Move in with me,” he said at last, glancing at you expectantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It wasn’t completely out of the blue—you’d been searching for a new apartment for weeks—but it still took you by surprise. “Too fast?” He asked when he registered your shock.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head and squeezed his hand. “Don’t get me wrong Jaem, I’d love to. It’s just, I don’t know about any of this. About us. If we’re actually…”

He hummed a quiet response, his brows furrowing slightly in contemplation. “Soulmates,” he said with a melancholic sigh. “You don’t want to go any further before we know for certain. I understand.”

You nodded. “It always hurts, you know? You think you’ve finally found them only to realize you’ve been completely wrong the whole time.”

“I know,” he said, and his empathy flooded you with warmth and reassurance. “You always think you’ll be prepared for the next time. You always think it will hurt less as time goes by. But it doesn’t.”

“Exactly.”

You tipped the last of the beer into your mouth; it tasted faintly sweet on your tongue before dissolving into a pleasant bitterness that hit the back of your throat. When you were finished, Jaemin took the empty can and fiddled with the tab, bending it back and forth until it snapped off.

“I want it to be you,” he told you after a few minutes of silence. “I want it to be us.”

“And if we aren’t?”

He kissed you, hard enough for you to see stars. It wasn’t desperate or longing, but it seemed to convey a hundred different thoughts all at once, a hundred different emotions for you to decipher. When he finally pulled away, his voice was thoughtful and he was seemingly lost in a pleasant daydream. “Oh, love, the universe has already cursed us to search eternally. We may as well spend eternity together.”

“Seriously, Jaemin, what if we aren’t?”

The tremor of your voice snapped him out of it. The glimmer of hope disappeared from his pupils and the dream slipped from his hands.

“We’ve been alive for so long,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think I can go on like this. What if we aren’t meant to be? What will we do?”

You didn’t regret your time with Donghyuck or Mark or Jungwoo or any of the people you were lucky enough to have met, but you’d watched all of them from afar, watched them grow while you stayed frozen in time. Each new generation that came along was only a reminder of your loneliness. You felt a certain emptiness each time you invited new people into your life, one that deepened when they eventually left you behind. Or worse, when they gave you their pity. You couldn’t stand it when people told you that it was unfair or that you deserved better, all while they lived comfortably with their soulmates. You weren’t jealous, nor could you ever be angry at them for something beyond their control. Your anger was directed at the invisible forces that toyed with the world, the mischievous hands spinning the universe in some strange direction that left only you disoriented.

His expression took on a faint sadness and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, barely a whisper. “Then so be it. If you need to move on, it would be selfish of me to stop you from doing so.” He stared out at the waters wistfully, at the yachts sailing downstream. “And besides, you’re right. Maybe it’s time we settle down… even if it’s not with each other.”

Your birthday came a few months after that night, but you held off on testing. The bus you took home from work passed by one of the labs, but you never got off at the stop, always watched the doors open and close from your seat. The test isn’t that accurate anyways, you told yourself; it could produce only an approximate biological age, so maybe the longer you waited, the better.

But in the end, it was simply an excuse to escape reality, to avoid your confrontation with fate itself.

You moved in with him just before the end of the year.

New Year’s Eve wasn’t a big deal for you (you’d lived through too many for it to be exciting), but you spent the last minutes of the year with him, surrounded by cardboard boxes waiting to be unpacked. Jaemin had still made some sort of effort at festivities despite your indifference: pale pink and gold candles lit around the living room, golden champagne in delicate glasses set on the table.

You were almost asleep when the clock struck twelve, wrapped up in one of his oversized sweaters and a white throw blanket. The celebratory music blaring from the TV was muffled in your ears, a pleasant symphony that lulled you deeper into sleep until Jaemin awoke you with a kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Jaem,” you mumbled, a smile ghosting your lips as you focused on the comfort you felt in his arms; on the new year, on your new home, new hope.

You know something’s wrong.

Jaemin doesn’t come out to greet you, even after you announce your arrival. He’s home—his shoes and coat are put away neatly like any other day—yet it’s deathly silent, terribly still. No music playing in the living room, no voice down the hallway. Only the occasional chirp from your broken smoke detector, which you’ve been meaning to fix for weeks. As you bend down to unlace your boots, you can’t help but worry.

You find him in your shared bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the comforter. The sun has almost set and the shadows stretch across the room, blanketing him in darkness and masking his expression with ambiguity. He doesn’t move when you turn on the lamp on the bedside table. He doesn’t move when you sit next to him.

There’s a familiar sheet of paper in his hands.

“Jaem, I…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It isn’t accusatory or hostile; his voice is laced with nothing but sadness, yet you feel so much guilt, guilt that closes around your throat and squeezes the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless. You kept it from him for days, and now this is the way he must find out about it. From a piece of paper you were careless enough to leave where he might find it. From a piece of paper detailing the DNA extracted from a sample of your blood. You should have told him.

“I didn’t know how to,” you let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you serious?” There it is, the cold edge that begins creeping into his voice as he stares down at you. He flicks a finger in the direction of the date printed at the top of the paper. “It’s been a week, Y/N. You kept this from me for a week. Why?”

“I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, okay?” It comes out sharper than you intended; you immediately begin to drown in guilt as soon as you see Jaemin’s expression fall. You didn’t mean to lash out, and now you make up for it by taking his hands in yours. They're ice cold. “Look, the day I found out, you were already tired from work. I didn’t want to bring it up and make everything worse—”

“So you lied. Said the results hadn’t come in yet,” he says flatly and you rush to defend yourself, only to realize that he’s right.

“I’m sorry.”

The rest of your words don’t come. With a tired exhale, you bury your head in your hands, too overwhelmed to say anything else. You can only hope that he’ll understand, that he’ll empathize and that he’ll forgive you, even if you don’t exactly believe you deserve any of it right now. You hold back the tears. Only when he pulls you into his arms do they fall. He takes your hands, gently pulling them away from your face so he can wipe your tears despite your protests. There’s no coldness in his expression now, only concern.

“I needed time to process everything,” you continue, but you choke on the words. “I couldn’t even accept it myself, I couldn’t—”

“I know, love,” he says quietly as his thumb brushes against your cheek. “I know. It’s alright.”

Your silent sniffles turn into unrestrained sobs as he pulls you into his embrace, your pent-up emotions finally released in the form of silvery streams on your cheeks. You aren’t sure how much time passes. The sun meets the horizon in a hazy line of faint pink and orange. The sky darkens. Outside, the city lights up in a multitude of hues, the amber light from the street below seeping into your room. The minutes go by, but Jaemin never lets go of you until your tears have run dry.

“Better?” He asks, albeit his voice is shaky, his gaze trembling when he looks up at you. You nod.

“We’ll figure this out,” his eyes seem to say. You can tell he’s just as terrified as you are, just as unsure and as lost. Though for now, you simply hold each other. You say nothing about the paper that lays discarded on the floor or what it entails, even if you both feel the need to address it, to face its implications. In this moment of brokenness, neither of you have the strength to do so.

You eventually collect yourselves. You make dinner and force yourselves to eat before passing a meaningless hour in front of the TV. You clean up, wash up. Sleep early in preparation for tomorrow. Jaemin never leaves your side.

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper into the darkness of your bedroom.

“Tomorrow, love,” you hear him say just before slipping into unconsciousness, into restless sleep.

According to Lee Donghyuck, the chances of meeting your soulmate are 1 in 10 000. Or at least, scientifically. Theoretically. Donghyuck was a man of logic and reason, and had your lives not revolved around soulmates like the earth revolved around the sun, perhaps he wouldn’t have believed in fate at all.

“Remove fate from the equation,” Donghyuck mumbled to himself thoughtfully, jotting a few numbers down on a paper napkin. “And let’s assume your soulmate is around your age.”

“Can’t you rule that one out too?” You pointed out, but he was too busy, already lost in his thoughts.

“If your soulmate is determined at birth and instantly recognizable at first sight… And they’re actually alive somewhere in the world…”

You watched the quick movements of his blue pen with intrigue. He spun the pen restlessly, allowing its barrel to cross over and under and between his fingers, at times so quickly that it became nothing but a blur of colour. Finally, he scribbled a final verdict and inked two definitive circles around it. “If fate hadn’t been so kind, the chances would have been one in ten thousand. One lifetime out of ten thousand.”

“That slim? Ten thousand lifetimes, that’s nearly impossible,” you said, skeptical but amused at his train of thought nonetheless. You took the napkin from him and looked over his calculations, though some of the numbers were too big for you to check without a calculator. You trusted that Donghyuck had done them correctly though. “You know, if you told that to someone who’d spent a century searching for their soulmate, they’d probably beat you up. You’re lucky I like you.”

He giggled. “We’re lucky it’s only hypothetical.” He took the napkin from you and crumpled it, smudging the neon blue ink on the tips on his fingers.

With Donghyuck, things were simpler. He was young, young enough to not be in a hurry, young enough to speak his thoughts so freely. He never pitied you or worried about offending you, and he never treated you as if you were out of place among the new generations. He offered you perspective. You knew that you weren’t meant for each other, but you were still content to spend your time with each other. To wait together.

“So… I might have found a new place.”

You don’t miss the surprise on Jaemin’s face when you tell him over dinner. His eyes widen a bit in curiosity, his brows arching upwards and his mouth falling slightly agape. He sets his fork down against his plate, folding his hands together the way he does when he’s deep in thought.

“Already?” He inquires. Maybe you imagine a hint of disappointment in his voice, a slight dip in his tone. He looks at you with a sort of sadness, as if trying to imagine what it would be like with you gone, to come home to an empty apartment every night. “Seriously, Y/N, you’re welcome to stay if you need to. We said we would take the changes slowly.” His words aren’t just out of consideration for you.

More than a month has gone by silently, and within that time, the frigid cold of winter has finally given way to spring. Nothing has really changed when you think about it, as if your test results are meaningless. And you suppose that they have become just that, a meaningless scrap of paper at the bottom of the recycling bin in the kitchen. Jaemin still holds you the same way, though his touches are just a little bit more fleeting. Your conversations still extend late into the night, though they feel just slightly melancholic. You hang onto his every word even while telling yourself not to, that maybe there is no point in doing so when everything is already coming to an end.

“I don’t know if I’ll take it… at least not for sure. And even if I do, I won’t be moving in until April. I just thought I’d tell you ahead of time,” you tell him, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think I need some time alone. So I can adjust to all of this.”

“No, I understand. It’s just a little jarring, you know? Don’t know what it’ll be like without you here.”

“It’s literally only a block away,” you giggle, and he smiles. “I’ll still be here.”

After the coolness of February comes grey skies and a drizzly March, heavy rainfall washing the white snow to grey slush. Eventually, the clouds part across the sky for the sun, allowing the brilliant blue of the sky to peek through. April comes sooner than expected, producing blooms of yellow and white in the flowery courtyards of your new apartment complex, bursts of bright colours along the cobblestone paths.

You stand surrounded by boxes in the middle of your new studio apartment, watching the people pass by on the streets below. The windows are cracked open for air and you can hear the bustle outside, the yells of the street vendors, an occasional shriek of a child’s laughter. The new bedframe and mattress you ordered stand leaning against the wall in the corner, waiting to be assembled. Jaemin stumbles through the door with another box and sets it down before dusting his hands off on his jeans.

“That’s the last one,” he says. He collapses on the couch that the previous owner left behind, out of breath. You sit down next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your lap. He finally looks around, then at you. “Everything you hoped for?”

You nod happily. “I’ll miss having you around though,” you chuckle, playing with the soft strands of his hair, freshly dyed—after losing a drunken bet to Renjun a week ago, he reluctantly let the latter bleach and tone his hair bright silver. But you think it suits him; it accentuates the darkness of his eyes and paleness of his skin, gives him a cold and chic edge offset by the gentleness of his smile.

“I’ll still be here,” he repeats your words from two months ago. “And you’ll be much closer to work, right? No more crazy subway routes and early mornings. At the cost of me being your personal alarm clock, of course.” He grins, and you smack him with a red throw pillow.

“I won’t miss that,” you roll your eyes teasingly.

“Whatever you say, love.” He lifts his head off your lap to press a kiss against your cheek.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with him, unpacking boxes, hanging up clothes, building the bedframe and fitting the mattress with clean sheets so that at least you’ll have somewhere to sleep tonight. When the sun sets, everything is lit in an ethereal glow, and you stare out the floor-length windows, admiring the sky. Jaemin joins you after a moment, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rock back and forth to the steady rhythm of the music playing from his phone.

When he leaves in the evening, he gives you a final hug, jokingly telling you not to miss him too much. When he’s gone, you find yourself staring out the window once more, at the blocky silhouette of Jaemin’s building a few blocks away. He pointed it out earlier, thrilled that you could see so far from this high up.

You quickly learn that on cloudy days, it is nothing but a smudge of grey in the distance.

While Donghyuck always tried to ease your worries with reason and strokes of pen ink on his skin, Mark took you on long drives around the city, hoping that the wind blowing through your hair would clear your mind.

On late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you often found yourself in the passenger seat of his 1975 Hyundai Pony, listening to static-laced 80s rock music while he drove you around the streets of Seoul. He would always roll the windows down in the summer and watch the contentment on your face, one hand around yours while the other guided the wheel.

Mark Lee was even older than you—and with all the wars and tragedies he’d lived through, he understood what it felt like to be kept awake by the nightmares. To be kept awake by thoughts of loved ones being blown to bits, to be haunted with memories of the past. With how long he’d been searching for the right person, he knew the urgency you felt and the longing to finally settle down with a soulmate. He understood.

The stories he told you were woven between puffs of cigarette smoke and gentle kisses on your forehead. He told you about Canada and the mountains that surrounded Vancouver, where he’d spent some time in the 40s. He told you about his family, about his brother’s grandchildren who looked older than he did. It was strange, he’d admitted with a small laugh and sadness in his smile.

The two of you often pointed out buildings along the side of the road, reminiscing what stood in their place before the bulldozers and big trucks rolled in. Just down the street from his apartment, the old drive-in cinema was being replaced by an upscale theatre. Next to it, a park was being cleared for a new shopping centre. Even the studio he’d rented out last summer had been demolished so a new entertainment agency could build its empire. Once in a while, he would drive by and stare ruefully at the construction site—the classical compositions he’d once recorded there were being replaced by a new type of music, with catchy beats and pretty pop stars dressed in shiny outfits.

His music had been drowned out by a new industry, and likewise, many of the things you remembered from your childhood have been lost to time. Talking about the past with him helped you remember. It was a sort of reassurance even as you moved on.

Mark eased a bit of your pain, staying out with you until the early hours of morning to make sure that you were alright. The next morning, he would almost always call to ask if you’d slept okay, unless there was an issue with the old landline phone in his office. All concept of time disappeared when you were with him, along with your memories and the demons haunting your dreams. But eventually, he would drop you off at home and bid you goodnight, leaving you to watch him drive away. Eventually, the night came to an end.

He couldn’t stay with you the whole night, nor could he stay with you forever.

Your evenings are often interrupted by Jaemin’s messages asking you to come over. Sometimes he says that he misses you, or he wants to see you for dinner. Other times, he kisses you breathless against the closed door as soon as you’ve stepped inside, always with an unmatched fervour and urgency as if you might slip right through his grasp and disappear.

Tonight, however, it’s neither.

It’s half past midnight when your phone is set off in a series of quick vibrations. Wrapped in nothing but a towel with your hair still dripping, you type in a reply, hesitate, press send. You get changed, slipping into a pair of jeans and an oversized T-shirt before grabbing your keys.

Jaemin is uncharacteristically quiet when he opens the door for you, his gaze downcast so you can’t see his expression. He’s deteriorating; you can see it in the way he turns his back to you after locking the door, the way he walks inside with a halfhearted invitation for you to follow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when you’ve sat down across from him.

“I think I found them,” he mumbles and you notice how he averts your gaze. “My soulmate, I mean. I think I found her.”

“Wait, then why with the long face? Jaem, that’s great—”

He cuts you off with a sharp bark of emotionless laughter. His expression turns bitter when he pulls his sleeve up to reveal a mark along his wrist: two linear streaks of dark purple that twist together like the centre petals of a rose. He stares at it, almost with contempt. Apart from the standardized DNA tests, markings are the only other way to identify soulmates, though they almost never show. No one has any proper explanation for them and you have no explanation for why Jaemin has one now.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s great. She’s smart. She’s funny. We have the same mark so I know it’s her,” he says shakily. “But god, I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this.”

You feel dread. It hits you all at once, because the way Jaemin speaks is so distant and unnerving, as if he’s lost himself in a trance and forgotten all about you. You’ve seen this dazed look before, only twice, when he was truly distressed and truly lost. This isn’t like him.

He found her. He should be happy. You should be happy for him. He should be happy.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m broken. Something’s wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, and you try to keep the urgency out of your voice for his sake. He doesn’t say anything. “Jaemin?”

“I don’t feel anything when I’m with her. Nothing.”

You don’t register his words. They don’t make any sense to you. They are barely coherent. No, you think. That can’t be possible.

“Maybe we rejected each other in a past life and then both offed ourselves. Or maybe this is just the universe’s way of saying ‘fuck you.’ Maybe—”

“Stop that,” you tell him firmly. “Whatever this is, there has to be an explanation for it. Marks don’t just appear out of nowhere, right?” You pause to take a shaky breath, suddenly realizing that your words aren’t meant to comfort only him. “We can look into it. We can figure out what’s going on. This is the 21st Century, remember?”

“But what am I even supposed to tell her?” He demands, his tone exasperated and his brows furrowed together. “‘I know you’ve been looking for me for your whole life, but I can’t see you as anything more than a friend, sucks for you’? What do I do, spend the rest of my life drowning in guilt and self-pity because I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to? Because I could only pretend?”

You have no answers for him. Perhaps he hasn’t felt anything for her because he hasn’t let go of you. Perhaps it really was a mistake, a freak accident in the cosmos that put the wrong marks on the wrong people, designating a pair that was never meant to be. Your thoughts run wild, but you can’t put anything into words for him. Even if you could, you don’t think you would have the strength to say anything aloud.

Instead, you hold him in your arms, wiping away the tears of frustration that have formed at the corners of his eyes, running your fingers through his hair. You can only hope that his soulmate will do the same for him some day, perhaps in some future where the cruel forces watching over you cease their endless games. Genuinely, you hope.

The tone goes off a third time. You glance at the clock across the room: 11 AM. He has to be up by now, you think to yourself as your fingers continue drumming a repetitive rhythm onto the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

Just before the automated voice can tell you to leave a voicemail, he picks up. Donghyuck’s voice is groggy, as if he’s just woken up—or maybe he’s just about to go to bed. With his disaster of a sleep schedule, you can never be sure.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh hey, you, I know you.” You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. “How are you, Y/N? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“I’m alright, the usual, I guess. How about you? How’s Jeno?”

“Jeno adopted another cat because he’s fucking insane, so now we have three little furballs running around the house. But yeah, it’s going great! So great,” he drawls with a familiar bite of sarcasm. You smile to yourself. “If he brings home another one because ‘Oh Hyuck, look it’s so cute, can we keep it?’ I will literally choke him in his sleep. Anyways, what’s going on? You never call me.”

“You never pick up,” you huff, earning a small laugh from him. “Okay, I wanted to ask you something. What do you know about soulmate marks?”

Thoughtful silence. “Not much. I mean, I’ve got my theories, but nothing has really been proven. Why, did you get one?”

“No, not me. Jaemin.”

“Oh, Y/N… then that means…”

“It’s alright, don’t concern yourself with me, Donghyuck. I’m more worried about him, honestly.”

“Hm?”

“He found his soulmate recently, but it’s not exactly… it’s not going as expected, let's just say that. He said he feels almost nothing when he’s with her, and to make things worse, apparently now it’s mutual. God, Donghyuck, they’re so awkward with each other, it physically hurts me.”

Donghyuck is silent again, and you hear the faint clicking of his keyboard. You can almost see his contemplative gaze and the soft blue glow of his computer screen lighting his face. “Did they know each other at all before the marks appeared?”

“Yeah, they were coworkers.”

He hums. “Okay… that could be why. Marks have a tendency to appear if soulmates have been around each other for extended periods of time without realizing it. It’s like nature’s way of telling them that the person they’re looking for is right in front of them. As for why they haven’t felt anything for each other? I dunno… reincarnation can really fuck with people. Any previous sentiments for your soulmate stick with you as you pass on, even if you’re both reborn completely different people.”

I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this. Jaemin’s words echo in your head.

“Obviously, there’s still opportunity to fix things,” Donghyuck adds quickly before you can get too lost in your thoughts. “It just takes time. Honestly, I wouldn’t be too concerned”

“I know, I know,” you groan. “I’m just upset that after everything he’s gone through, this is the shit he has to deal with.”

“Yeah. I can’t even imagine.” He pauses. “You know, a lot of people would just run off if they were in the same situation. He’s lucky to have you.”

You give a breathless laugh and shrug. “I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“You never give yourself enough credit,” Donghyuck says, a hint of melancholy to his voice. There’s a sudden noise in the distance that cuts him off, and he curses beneath his breath. “Shit, the new cat’s not trained yet and I think she’s doing something stupid in the kitchen. Jeno will kill me if anything happens to her.”

You suppress a giggle. “Go ahead. We can catch up some other time.”

“Of course. See you, Y/N.”

The line clicks.

If Donghyuck taught you to be hopeful and Mark taught you to be strong, Jungwoo taught you to be brave.

Kim Jungwoo was your first love, and in many ways, you consider him to be irreplaceable. Perhaps it had simply been the result of young naivety back then, but you thought he was unlike any other person you’d ever met. In hindsight, he was different. A bright light dancing his way into your life when you were only a child in the 30s, a free-spirited boy who went where he pleased despite living under such an oppressive regime.

The Kims lived only a few doors down. You frequently saw the boys in their front yard kicking a beat-up soccer ball back and forth between them. Jungwoo was the middle child, and he sat right in front of you in class, his back always perfectly straight against his wooden chair so as to avoid the teachers’ chastisement. He was a quiet boy, and he never said a word unless it was to answer a question. But even then, his voice was small—not exactly shy or scared, just quiet. He quickly learned to raise his voice when the teacher hit him on the back of the hand with a ruler and demanded he speak up, when the wood scraped apart the skin of his knuckles.

At the time, when Japanese was all too foreign on your tongue and you struggled to understand anything taught in class, you thought he was a genius. He always had the right answers when he was called upon and there wasn’t a trace of an accent in either of his languages. Not that you heard him speak Korean much; you didn’t dare speak it unless you were hidden in your own homes, where your parents could discuss the uprisings without having to worry about the police roaming freely outside. Though, they still spoke in hushed voices as if anyone could hear them, as if terrified for what could happen if someone did hear.

The first time you spoke to Jungwoo properly was in middle school. After a humiliating incident at school that left you in tears, he ran to catch up with you on the way home and spoke to you in timid Korean, offering to help. You were still teary-eyed and beyond upset, but you let him guide you through your homework. He rambled to you about the Japanese grammar you couldn’t understand and explained the mistakes you’d made for your teacher to lash out at you the way she had. It didn’t stop you from making the same mistakes the next day, but at least he was patient, unlike the adults at school.

“You’re not stupid,” he told you one afternoon on the way home. Again, you were in tears.

“But the teachers think I am,” you grunted. “And I feel stupid. I can’t understand a word they say. I never have the right answers. Everything I say is wrong. If that’s not stupidity, I don’t know what it is.”

“Y/N, all we do at school is memorize meaningless facts that don’t really matter,” he replied with a shrug. “Just because you can’t shove all that information into your head doesn’t mean that you’re stupid. Look at Doyoung. He was failing school but he’s still one of the smartest people I know. He just… learns differently.”

“So? That doesn’t make me smart either. They still think—”

Jungwoo scoffed. “Who cares what they think? I think you’re wonderful, and they’re the real freaks. Miss Ito, especially.” He wrinkled his nose. “She smells funny.”

“Hey, be nice, Jungwoo,” you chided, but you were laughing. He was effortlessly funny and it was such a pleasant contrast to the way he acted at school. He was always so disciplined and perfect when the adults were watching, but he seemed to let loose around you. It made you feel… special, in a way. Validated, accepted. Something you never felt at school.

You walked home with him almost everyday from then on. You became inseparable, even when your school shut down and sent all the students to gender-segregated schools, even when your parents worried that you were spending too much of your time with him instead of studying. Even when war arrived.

The Second World War plunged your lives into darkness; Jungwoo quickly became the only light to guide you. He was there for you while your parents were away, while they laboured in the factories making helmets and guns and bullets so that they could at least put food on the table. He was there when the light at the end of the tunnel went dim, though he was miles away from home.

Jungwoo had never struck you as a fighter or rebel, even if he had the physique of a soldier. He had the drive and the courage and the steel to fight, but you only saw gentleness in his monthly letters to you. The last letter you received from him still sits in a drawer somewhere, the last words he wrote sealed in a plastic envelope so that they won’t fade away.

You took the test a few months after the war ended, only because he had pleaded with you to do so. Even if I don’t make it home, he wrote to you in the same curving script he’d used to teach you years ago. Promise me.

When the receptionist gave you a piece of paper with an X marked next to your name—there were no colour indicators back then, only X’s and hollow circles—a part of you felt relief that you couldn’t quite explain. Another part of you was disgusted, convinced that you were being selfish and apathetic. You thought that maybe you had no regard for him; that you only cared for yourself and a stranger you were still searching for. He’d risked his life to join the rebel army, fought on the frontlines with the Allies, and you repaid him with nothing.

It would take you years to come to the conclusion that your reaction was only natural. It would take you years to heal and start seeing other people. In due time, you would stop frequenting the church in your hometown and your fingers would cease to brush against the memorial stone in the yard, upon which his name was carved. Just one name among many.

Jaemin’s hands are all over you: in your hair, around your throat, pushing you against the wall as he kisses you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls on the strands, forcing your head back a bit so he can continue trailing his lips over your neck and collarbones.

“We can’t be doing this,” you tell him when you manage to pull away. His arms come around your waist anyways and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and you glance behind him to see empty soju bottles on the kitchen counter.

“I’m not with Jieun,” he snarls. “Besides, like I said. I think we’re fucked. We aren’t meant to be.”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss, taken aback by his sudden coldness. “This isn’t fair to her.”

“It’s mutual, remember? I bet she’s out there doing the exact same thing with some other guy. She doesn’t need me.”

“Jaem—”

“We’re fucked. She told me she doesn’t need me, and I told her the same.”

You’re horrified. “You did what?”

“Hilarious, isn’t it? We had our first fight, and we aren’t even together yet.” He scoffs, pushing a hand through his hair in irritation. “Some type of soulmate.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this. He’s out of his mind. He’s lost it. “Fuck, Jaem, how much did you drink?”

“Not enough to feel better, clearly,” he snaps.

“Alcohol and whatever this is between the two of us isn’t going to make you feel any better. This isn’t going to fix your problems.”

“Then what do you want me to do?!” His words are sharp, his expression hard when he glares at you. “You tell me to move on and to give her a chance and to stop doing whatever—” he motions frantically. You’ve never seen him so wild, so out of control, and you’ve almost never seen him lash out at anyone like this. “—whatever the fuck this is, but do you even know how it feels? Do you even care?”

A sharp intake of breath, and then the world is crashing down around you.

The feelings you fought to suppress re-emerge, rising up to crush you and force you into relapse. Doubt. Regret. Guilt. The little voice in the back of your head is a raging monster now, and it shouts at you, screaming at you in a blind rage. Telling you that you’re heartless and self-absorbed and indifferent, everything you believed you were when Jungwoo died. Reinstating what you know isn’t true. You know he doesn’t mean it. You know that it’s just alcohol fueling the words spewing from his lips and nothing more, but they still bring back unpleasant memories, a sense of dread you can’t shake.

He realizes, albeit a bit too late. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

If you knew how much it hurts me to watch you do this to yourself. If you knew how much it hurts me knowing that there’s only so much I can do for you. “Don’t. I get it.”

For a few seconds, the room is silent, save the ticking of the clock behind you. It reminds you briefly of a memory that you can’t quite grasp, like a flash of deja vu before you spiral back down to the present reality where you stand in cold, frigid silence. The broken smoke detector chirps.

“I should go,” you say at last. You go to grab your keys from where you left them on the counter but he quickly stops you, his hand coming around yours. You look up at him in irritation, pulling away sharply.

“It’s late,” he says shakily, almost pleading. “You shouldn’t walk home at this hour. Not alone.”

“I’ll call a cab,” you shrug before slipping into your sweater and pulling on your shoes. You bid him goodnight and leave him dumbfounded in the living room.

You return home to a sleepless light and endless thoughts in a cold bedroom. A broken record replays his words in your head again and again, until you see Jungwoo’s face floating above you in the darkness. His features are faint, like wisps of smoke that loosely form sad eyes and lips pulled downwards in a frown. And then he’s the one asking, “Do you even care?”

You have no answer for the annoying voice in your head. You stare at the lines of light drifting across the expanse of the ceiling, wide awake as the sky brightens outside.

“How long will you be gone?”

It was the 3rd of August 1995. You knew because the next day would mark 50 years since Jungwoo’s death. The next day, you would be going back to your hometown and laying flowers on the altar in the Kim family home, revisiting the memorial you’d left behind when you moved to Seoul.

You shrugged as Mark passed you his lighter. The old zippo produced a small spark between your fingers, and then the sting of smoke was filling your mouth and nose. You didn’t smoke regularly—you’d stopped years ago—but you sure as hell felt like you needed one tonight.

“I dunno,” you said, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “A couple more days after the ceremony? If I stay any longer, Doyoung might get upset.“

“Upset?”

“He doesn’t like seeing me. Said I bring back bad memories. I think I remind him of Jungwoo too much.”

Mark grimaced. “Well it’s scary, seeing a childhood friend who hasn’t aged in fifty something years… Must he like seeing a ghost.” He paused, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear so that he could see your face. “My nephews feel the same way about me.”

“You remind them of something?” You asked.

“Their father, I guess,” he explained. “My brother… wasn’t the most understanding of them when they were younger. Whenever they see me, all they can think of is their childhood and his abusiveness.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

He took a moment of contemplative silence “No, not really. I mean, maybe it did at first. But it’s not like I go out of my way to avoid them just because of the memories they associate with me. That would be unfair for me.”

“It would be,” you agreed.

“So then why avoid Doyoung? What he thinks of you is beyond your control. If you remind him of painful memories, that isn’t exactly your fault.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just feel like staying out of his way might help him heal. Maybe it’ll help him move on from everything he’s trying to forget.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Mark took your hand with a breathless laugh. His smile was both sad and endearing, as if he were in awe of you—what for, you weren’t too sure until he murmured, “You’re too kind sometimes.” He paused to exhale, smoke escaping his lips and bleeding into the atmosphere, dispersing into the starry sky. He stared into the sky for a few moments, silent.

“But it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves.”

“What the hell happened to him?”

Jaemin looks like a mess. His hair is disheveled and swept messily all over the place. His skin is unhealthily pale, unusually warm to the touch beneath your fingertips. You can tell he’s had a little too much to drink; he sits on the couch in a daze, his eyes fixated on an invisible point in front of him as if searching for something that is no longer there. He yelps in pain when you wipe at the cut on his lip.

“We bumped into a couple guys at the bar. One of them took a swing at him,” Renjun explains as he passes you the bottle of disinfectant. You carefully apply a drop to a cotton swab. “And it didn’t help that he was also drunk. Thank god Lucas was there to break up the fight.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Jaemin groans in protest. “Just tipsy.”

“Tipsy? You couldn’t even tell me Y/N’s number.”

“I don’t remember anyone’s number.”

“Well, you couldn’t tell me your own name either. Got any excuse for that one, smartass?”

You ignore their bickering and continue cleaning the cut on Jaemin’s cheek, holding him firmly by the shoulder so he doesn’t move. The cotton quickly turns light pink between your fingers. You briefly examine the red marks along his jaw where he’d been hit, frowning. Jaemin has never been one to get into fights and especially not while under the influence, but the bruises on his cheek and his knuckles suggest otherwise. Hell, he rarely even gets drunk, but it’s becoming more and more frequent, to the point where Renjun makes sure to watch over him whenever they go out together. He’s derailing, you think to yourself as you brush his hair into some sort of order.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” You put his arm around your shoulder and help him up to his feet, nearly staggering beneath his weight. Renjun rushes over to help you move him into the bedroom.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting late,” you tell him when Jaemin has been settled in bed. You glance at the clock hanging in the kitchen as you clean up the first aid kit on the table: almost 2 AM. “I’ll stay with him… make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“I really tried to keep him away from the alcohol tonight. I swear I turned away for only a second to deal with Yangyang and he— Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Renjun apologizes again, shaking his head. “This whole soulmate ordeal is really getting to him. I’m worried, Y/N.”

“You know how he is. He always figures it out one way or another” you reassure him. “I’ll talk to him again though. Maybe he’ll actually… listen this time.”

“Well, call me if anything happens. I probably won’t be asleep anyways.”

“I will. Thanks, Jun,” you nod appreciatively.

By the time Renjun has gone home and you’ve finished cleaning up, Jaemin is already asleep. He stirs when you switch off the lamp and reaches out for you in the darkness, fingers intertwining with yours. “Stay,” he mumbles, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You say as you admire the way the moonlight filters in through the windows and draws pale lines across his cheeks. Despite the cuts marking his skin, he looks so much softer now, innocent, in a way. Again, you’re reminded of the Jaemin you met at the art gallery. He was none of this. None of this pent-up frustration released in empty beer bottles, none of these crimson bruises marking his otherwise smooth skin.

“You have to stop doing this to yourself,” you murmur. There’s no reply at first, and you wonder if he heard you at all.

“I’m sorry,” you finally hear his voice: small, feeble in the darkness. His words become more urgent as he keeps speaking, spilling from his lips uncontrollably. “I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I wasn’t thinking. You know I could never mean it.”

You hush him, wrapping him in the security of your arms. A single tear brushes against the back of your hand, then another. “It’s alright,” you assure him as you rub soothing circles against his back. “You were going through a lot. I understand, okay? It’s okay.”

He shakes his head frantically, his tears falling in steady streams now. You let out a low hiss when you see them stain pink with the blood from the wound on his cheek. “Still, that shouldn’t be an excuse. I’ve managed to fuck up everything since all of this started. I hurt Jieun, I hurt Renjun, I hurt you. I can’t even go to work and look at Jieun without feeling like such an idiot and getting mad at myself for being such a child. Without feeling like maybe I deserve this.”

Your heart drops, then shatters into a million pieces at the bottom of a dark abyss.

“Look at me,” you plead as you take his face in your hands. “Look at me, Jaem, please.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the stillness. All you can see is brokenness, defeat and regret, a look you knew well. It’s an expression that once followed you around for years, appearing in every mirror and reflection you passed by. An innate, intimate part of you that you despised so much until you came to accept it. “Listen to me, Na Jaemin. You are one of the strongest, bravest and kindest people I’ve ever met, and nothing will ever change the way I see you. You don’t deserve any of this bullshit. You don’t deserve this.”

“If you knew what I told her, Y/N,” he lets out a shaky breath. “If you knew what we told each other when we found out neither of us had any feelings for each other… maybe you would think differently of me.”

“If that’s truly what you believe, fix what you broke,” you say firmly. “Apologize to her. Make things right between the two of you, unless you want to go through this all over again in another life. Things will only get worse if you don’t address them now.”

“And if I can’t?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Jaem.” Trembling, you press your lips to his temple. “Whether or not you end up with her, whether or not you think you deserve this, I love you. And that will never fucking change.”

He leans forwards, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours and his lips just inches from meeting yours. But he never comes any closer, and you feel no urge to close the distance either. Perhaps it’s a sign that both of you are already starting to let go, to drift apart; this moment is nothing romantic or lustful, nothing more than comforting each other in your brokenness. Nothing more than trying to help each other numb the pain.

“I love you.” His voice trembles, but his words are steady, deep-rooted in sureness.

“Then promise me you’ll try, Jaem. You’ll try to set things right, for both our sake.”

“For you, love,” he murmurs, so quietly that you can barely hear him. His voice is lost to the faint rumbling of the air conditioning unit somewhere outside and the distant noises of traffic. “For you, I would do anything.”

You wonder if he’ll remember any of this in the morning. You wonder if he’ll take your words to heart, or if they’ll simply be enveloped in dreams fueled by drunkenness, reduced by sleep to nothing but a blur.

...it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves

You’ve done everything you can for him, you decide. Even if you continue to walk by his side, the rest is up to him.

One Saturday morning, Jaemin shows up at your door dressed in black jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair swept up neatly. There’s a kind of brightness to him; it’s not necessarily hope or excitement, but certainly a change from what you’ve seen the last couple of weeks. He’s meeting Jieun for lunch, he tells you nervously. He wants to see you before he goes. You tell him you’re proud of him. That genuinely, you admire him.

The next time you see him, it’s at a floral shop. He’s in the middle of picking out flowers, and he flushes when he sees you. A single rose seemed too cliche, he tells you sheepishly, and asks your opinion. He thinks she’ll prefer something a bit more unique but equally tasteful, equally elegant. You recommend orchids or gerberas. They last longer than roses, but they convey the same message. When he’s gone, you buy a small vase of irises for your apartment; your living room needs a bit of colour.

Weeks later, you find a small package in the mail: a parting gift, you realize when you tear open the padded envelope. It’s nothing too special, nothing fancy or expensive—just a piece of blue glass wrapped in silver accents, attached to a delicate chain that you loop around your neck. When you hold the pendant up to the sun, its blue tint shatters into infinite colours, tossing specks of luminous yellow and orange all over your bedroom. More than just a singular colour, it reflects the other hues around you. And for just a brief moment, you think you see your own reflection.

You watched Jaemin move on just as you’d watched Mark and Donghyuck: from afar, with reserve but at the same time, excitement. Close enough for him to know that you were still there for him, but allowing some sort of distance that grew as the days melded into weeks and then months.

For the most part, he seemed to be alright. His texts were always cheerful, covered in happy emoticons—he used them when he was too giddy with excitement to type actual words. “We figured things out,” was all he said one night, and it was all you needed to hear to know that they’d be okay.

You started to notice the fondness he’d developed for her; it was subtle at first, just a hint of affection in his voice when he told you about her over the phone. Though slowly, it developed into something more. It was just as Donghyuck said: time had forged a relationship out of nothing, out of empty words and empty emotions, growing a garden from a barren piece of wasteland.

The first time you spoke to Kim Jieun, it was over the phone during one of your calls with Jaemin. She’d chimed in on your conversation at some point to say hi, and the way she spoke almost reminded you of Donghyuck: bright, cheery, a little sarcastic in a playful manner. You quickly learned that she was easy-going though brutally honest at times, well-mannered yet well-humoured. Most importantly, she wasn’t judgemental, and she didn’t treat you any differently from Jaemin’s other friends just because you’d been with him previously.

Of course, there was still a sense of yearning, a bittersweetness whenever you saw the two of them together. Your fingers always danced fleetingly along the screen of your phone before pressing like on the photos he posted to his social media. You saw him less and less, only occasionally running into him at the bakery you used to frequent together or at a friend gathering. For the most part, you let the past stay in the past. He seemed happy. And honestly, you were happy for him.

“I told you he’d be fine,” Donghyuck murmured to you at one of Jeno’s rampant parties, once most of the guests had trickled out for the night. The two of you sat on the balcony, watching everyone stumble around in their drunken stupor: Jeno was passed out on the couch with two cats sitting perched on his chest. Renjun was trying to braid flowers into Jaemin’s hair, which he’d recently bleached yet another shade lighter to match Jieun’s platinum locks. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Chenle and Jisung exchange a few bills and bicker over a bet—Chenle was still in denial that Jisung had won, apparently.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second, Hyuck.”

“But you were worried,” he grinned smugly.

“Why wouldn’t I be worried?” You sighed and knocked back the rest of your wine before motioning for him to pass you the bottle. You swiftly poured yourself another glass. “If I couldn’t have my happy ending, at least I wanted him to have his. As… cliche as that sounds.”

Donghyuck raised a brow at you. “What’s to say that you won’t get yours too? They can’t keep you waiting forever. The longest it ever took for someone to find their soulmate was 241 years.”

“Goddamn, are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

“Better, of course! Okay, what I’m trying to say is that it’s rare for anyone to wait longer than two centuries. If everyone lived for up to three hundred years, we’d have a lot of dictators and other crazies running the world. The universe would spontaneously combust.”

“I know I’m barely even halfway there, but come back to me when I set a new world record,” you rolled your eyes, to which he responded with a small chuckle.

“So what now?” He glanced at Jaemin, who sat across the room with his eyes half-closed, an empty red solo cup in his hands. Jieun had her head on his shoulder, rambling drunkenly about something to Renjun. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought she’d been a part of the group all along; she fit in so seamlessly, and it warmed your heart to see her getting along with everyone.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Nothing for now, I guess. Just waiting.”

“Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll be worth it,” he hummed in reply.

“You think so?”

“People say that the longer you wait, the better. It’s all in your head, of course, but they have a point.”

You sighed, lifting your head to gaze at the stars hanging overhead. “I suppose they do. Maybe someday I get to find out.”

He patted you on the shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll figure it out. You always have.”

Donghyuck left a little later to get a drunk Jeno to bed, and then you had only the quietness of night to keep you company. Your mind drifted and you contemplated his words, repeating them silently to the wind. The night sky replied with nothing but a gentle breeze against your skin.

You could be patient, you thought as you watched the others inside. You fished the pendant out from beneath your shirt and stared at the reflection in the glass. It was as if you were grasping a piece of the night sky between your fingers: the stars and a crescent moon captured in a single, translucent oval. In the dark, the pendant appeared deep indigo, not too different in hue from the four coloured markings you’d acquired over the years.

But the sun would rise in due time, you thought to yourself mirthfully. Beneath the brightness of morning, you’d hold a different colour in your hands. You tucked the necklace back into the fabric of your shirt. You could wait.

read the epilogue, yellow

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin fanfic #nct angst #nct fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #the longest shit ive ever written hoLY SHIT #cznnet

362 notes · View notes

missfangirll · 4 years ago

Text

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

Fandom: The Untamed Rating: General Relationship: Song Lan / Xiao Xingchen Tags: Canonical Character Death, Fix-it, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Pining Chapters: 3 Summary: Song Lan has lost Xingchen twice. How will he endure after losing him a third time?

Read on AO3

This has lived in my head for a while and finally demanded attention. I am still not over Yi City and this is my attempt at a fix-it.

My eternal gratitute for @stormy-seasons who is a fantastic beta reader, and has helped and encouraged me immensely. Any remaining mistakes are mine. :)

- - - - -

Chapter 1: A road too wide

The road goes ever on and on Out from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, Let others follow it who can! Let them a journey new begin, But I at last with weary feet Will turn towards the lighted inn, My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

When Wei Wuxian had asked him, all that time ago, what he wanted to do now that he had gained his life back, he didn't have to think much to answer.

“Roam the world with Shuanghua, fight evil alongside Xingchen.”

It was what he had always done, a comfortable routine, not that different from before. No use in dwelling on the past, he had thought then. He was used to wandering the world alone, had done so for years and years in search of Xingchen, for a chance to apologize, to make things right again. Even if the road had felt too wide at times when he walked it alone, he had been content to do what once had been their shared goal: eliminate the evil that lingered in the world. In doing that he had felt close to Xingchen, and it had given him a focus other than his grief, his guilt.

He had never been one for expressing his feelings verbally, his words at the temple a festering proof of that, but he had still clung to that fraying hope of if only: if only he found Xingchen, if only he would listen, if only he could find the words, if only.

But it was idle foolishness to ponder on things lost and words unsaid.

He had lost everything that fateful day in Yi City, had lost his life, had lost Xingchen, had watched Xue Yang succeed. Even if it had been Xingchen’s hand and blade in the end, Song Lan refused to place any blame on him. It had been Xue Yang’s devious tongue that had poisoned Xingchen’s heart, Xue Yang’s twisted mind that had driven him to such hopeless despair that he had seen no other way out than the sword that had failed him.

When the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-Jun had severed Xue Yang‘s hold on him, he had been grateful, of course he had, but not particularly for the existence he had been granted. It had felt daunting, to face the world again, after years of living-not-living as a puppet. But he had accepted the spirit-trapping pouch Wei Wuxian had given him with shaking hands and a quivering heart. There was no one else left to care for Xingchen, and even when Wei Wuxian had told him that the soul inside the bag was shattered, broken, he had never once wavered in his decision. Xingchen and him, they belonged to each other, no matter the form, and so, caring for him was his responsibility. He wouldn't leave him, no matter how much it hurt.

For a short while he really had thought, had hoped, that with Shuanghua and Xingchen’s soul as his companions, the world would feel less empty, less silent, but ever since he had left Yi City behind, he had felt wrong, uneasy, in the way perception shifted when thunderstorms shadowed everything in an amber hue. He felt hollowed, a part of himself left behind in a black coffin adorned with talismans.

The road seemed wider than ever before, the silence even more unbearable now. Each room was too large, each bed too empty, each meal bland. Colours lost their vibrancy, any music was reduced to dull rhythms. He felt as if the veil of Xue Yang‘s influence hadn‘t fully lifted, but since Wei Wuxian had assured him he was free, he blamed being a living corpse for his dimmed senses.

Only in a fight did he feel almost as balanced as before, Fuxue still a trusted companion. He moved with the same deadly precision he always had, his senses sharpened by adrenaline and his energy flow. (It had been a surprise that his golden core seemed almost unaffected by the whole living-dead business, but for everything else he had lost, it was a relief that this at least seemed largely intact.)

Sometimes, very rarely, he even used Shuanghua on a night hunt. Not so much for his own sake, because the image of that blade at Xingchen's throat haunted him still, but for the sword's, which seemed restless without its master. After those hunts he would tell Xingchen about it in his mind, how his sword missed him, how the world missed him. (He felt he had not earned the right to miss Xingchen, and so said nothing of himself.)

When he talked to Xingchen, wordlessly, soundlessly, every time, every conversation began the same.

I am sorry.

-☾-•-❅-

The inn wasn't that different from any other he had taken shelter in, the wooden floors dark with age, but it was clean and inexpensive. He didn't really have to sleep as much as he’d had to when he had been human, but old habits were hard to break. Food wasn't a necessity anymore either, and most days it was a strenuous task, given the state of his tongue, but he still could enjoy the texture, the smell and temperature of meals. Losing his tongue had been as horrifying as losing his eyes so long ago, but he found that, with time, he had started to adapt. Communication was difficult at times, especially when the other party couldn’t read, but he had found most people understood his combination of facial expressions and humming sounds. It wasn't perfect and sometimes led to misunderstandings, but all in all it wasn't as arduous as he had thought.

After he had secured a room for the night – with a glance at the inn-keeper, followed by a nod towards the stairs, which she understood immediately – he sat in a corner of the small dining room, staring at the bowl of rice and steamed vegetables in front of him. The air smelled heavy, of food and unwashed people, and it made his skin prickle. He stirred halfheartedly in his rice, wishing it gone so he could escape to the temporary safety of his room.

When Song Lan finds him again, Xingchen is perched atop a wobbly wooden fence, one arm looped around the post next to him. In one hand he holds a few small peaches, the other, dripping with fruit juice, he holds out to Song Lan, offering him a piece. His smile is blinding, and Song Lan feels an urge to kiss away the sticky remnants of peach juice on his lips. He mock-frowns at the offered peach, then at Xingchen. Xingchen’s smile widens and he shakes his hand a little for emphasis. “You don't even need to touch it, Zichen,” he offers, playful and lighthearted, “just try it. It’s really good!” Song Lan has to hide his smile, glaring at the other for good measure, then carefully leans down, taking the offered piece between his lips. It is really good.

The sound of a cup being slammed on a table startled Song Lan out of his reverie. The mood of the company at the next table had grown noticeably more inebriated and, with a disappointed look at his bowl, Song Lan got up to retreat to his own room. He hated to waste food, but the thought of eating in company – in this company – made his stomach turn.

Alone in his room, the door closed firmly behind him, he finally felt able to breathe again. Setting Shuanghua and Fuxue on the table, he began his evening rituals. Eventually, with his hair down and only in a thin under robe, he sat on the bed, Xingchen's spirit pouch in front of him. It was not that the pouch ever left his side during the day, but these moments, alone, vulnerable, were special to Song Lan in a way he couldn‘t describe.

Softly caressing the silky cloth, he calmed his breathing, trying to convey his thoughts to Xingchen‘s soul.

I am sorry.

That was what he had wanted to say, when he had first lost him, but by now that wasn't the only important thing anymore.

I love you.

Come back.

He wasn't sure if he wanted Xingchen to come back, like Xue Yang had intended, as a fierce corpse like Song Lan was. Xingchen was warmth, life, sunlight – Song Lan had never understood why anyone would compare him to the moon, he had never met anyone as bright and warm – and being trapped in this lifeless existence wasn't something Song Lan wished for him.

And yet.

Even if Xingchen wouldn't return to him, he could mend his soul and enter the cycle of reincarnation, could eventually be born again. (Song Lan very deliberately didn't think about what that meant for him, since he wouldn't die of old age in the foreseeable future.)

Sighing, he laid down next to the pouch, cradling it to his chest, extinguishing the candle with a flick of his wrist. He couldn‘t speak, but had made a habit of pressing the pouch softly to his throat or chest and humming softly, hoping that the vibrations would travel and that Xingchen would somehow sense them. Sometimes, he hummed a childrens‘ song or a lullaby, a faint echo from another life, other times it was just a tuneless melody, anything to make Xingchen feel less alone. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off.

It is deep in the night when Song Lan wakes with a start. Immediately he knows what startled him: Xingchen isn't by his side anymore, but before Song Lan can begin to worry, he sees him, standing by the open window. The moonlight cascades around him in silver waves, making him look ethereal, like a spirit from another world. He is, in a way, Song Lan muses as he watches him. Xingchen has his eyes raised to the moon, the light caressing his elegant cheekbones, his fine nose, the graceful bow of his lips. With a slight movement, a stray strand of hair falls over his face and he pushes it behind his ear with an almost impatient gesture. Then, seeing Song Lan from the corner of his eye, he turns, his lips turning upwards into a soft smile. Wordlessly, he abandons his place at the windowsill and returns to the bed, lying down next to Song Lan, facing him. Still smiling, he closes his eyes, and Song Lan breathes him in.

Song Lan didn't dream. He stopped dreaming the day Shuanghua had ended his life, his nights filled with something akin to deep meditation, but not real sleep. Thus, he woke deeply disoriented, instantly missing Xingchen‘s sleepy warmth at his side, blindly reaching for him under the covers. Reality slowly dripped into his consciousness, the realisation that Xingchen wouldn't be there striking him so forcefully he gasped for air.

The pain of missing Xingchen never went away, always lingered in the back of his mind, but this was immeasurably worse: The memory had been so real, he still could smell Xingchen‘s hair oil, feel his warm touch, hear his soft sleepy breaths. Closing his eyes with a groan, Song Lan forced himself up and out of bed. He wouldn't find any more rest anyway and the only thing that could soothe his aching heart, he knew that from experience, was distraction, movement, so he went on to begin his day.

After donning his robes and putting his few belongings back into his qiankun pouch, he silently slipped down the stairs and out of the house, both swords strapped to his back. Only a pale grey shimmer at the horizon promised the coming sunrise, but the small village still lay in deep silence. Song Lan followed the unpaved road out of town.

“Maybe I should hold onto you, so you don't get lost,” Xingchen grins at him, full of mirth, and swiftly, gracefully, takes Song Lan‘s hand in his. Song Lan almost trips over his own feet, but Xingchen’s smile is so radiant, his eyes sparkling with so much joy, that every excuse why they shouldn’t be holding hands in broad daylight on a road dies on his tongue. Wordlessly, he can only stare at the man beside him and hold on.

Song Lan‘s hand clenched around the spirit bag on his belt. Squinting at the sun above him, he took a moment to orient himself. The next village was his intended destination, the rumors of the vile energy and vengeful spirits troubling it had accompanied him for days. Not much time left before sundown, he realised, and quickened his pace.

-☾-•-❅-

The village was as unassuming as he had expected: a single road, no vendors, not even an inn. When he spotted an elderly woman in a doorway, he hastened to greet her with a polite bow, tapping three fingers to his mouth to indicate he couldn’t speak. Curious, she eyed the two swords on his back.

“Are you a cultivator, Daozhang? Did you come for the ghost?“

Song Lan nodded and raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

The woman gestured to the setting sun. “It is good that you arrived in time, Daozhang.” She sighed. “We have been plagued by that one for a while, and are afraid she will find another victim tonight.“

Song Lan gestured for her to continue.

“Well, you see, on a clear night like this, her lover left her,“ the woman said bluntly, and Song Lan began to understand. It always went like this: lovers lost, friends betrayed, brothers deceived. Greed, anger, hatred, but most of all, love - turned and twisted. He sighed inwardly: those were not easily put to rest. The woman went on.

“It… She was a girl from the village. Her name was Xiao An, they were betrothed. But then he… Well, after she hanged herself in his bedroom, he left the village, but she remained in that house. We hear her crying, every night.“ She shuddered.

“Then, last week, a young man didn't return home to his family one night. We found him the next morning, he was…“ She trailed off, a haunted expression in her eyes. Shaking her head, she said, “Forgive me, Daozhang, I cannot tell you. He was my granddaughter's beloved, and what she did to him…“

She turned towards Song Lan, pleading. “We beg you, Daozhang, release her spirit. We cannot give you much, but-“

Song Lan interrupted her with a grunt and a headshake. Then, with another raised eyebrow, he half-turned into the direction the woman had pointed to earlier, silently asking the way.

She nodded. “It is the last house on the left side, you cannot miss it. It has been unoccupied since… Well, since then.“ With a deep inhale, she bowed to Song Lan. “Thank you, Daozhang. Your help is much appreciated.“ With a nod, the cultivator left into the direction she had indicated.

Since it had already been almost sunset when he arrived in the village, he wasted no time. As he walked towards the abandoned house, he prepared some talismans for the fight ahead.

He notices the fierce corpse behind him a heartbeat too late, too late to turn around and block its fury with Fuxue, too late to dodge the attack. Half-turned, he watches a hand descend towards his neck, unnaturally slow, as if through mud, before silver lightning strikes, cutting the offending arm off. Stunned, he watches as the white-clad figure gracefully follows the motion of the blade, using the momentum to behead the remaining corpse behind Song Lan.

“My thanks,” he pants, only to be grabbed by his sleeve and turned around with more force than strictly necessary. “Did it get you?”, Xingchen demands. “Are you hurt?” Song Lan shakes his head and Xingchen’s shoulders slump a little. Silently he steps closer and embraces Song Lan in a one-armed hug, hiding his face in the crook of the other’s neck.

Song Lan shook himself out of his thoughts. It wouldn't do to get distracted on a night hunt, he scolded himself. Shaking his head to clear it a bit, he mustered the talismans he had prepared, meticulously adjusting a few strokes. Perhaps because he was so focused on that, he realised too late that the trees around him had grown eerily quiet: no wind moved the branches, no bird sang to its mate, no insect buzzed evening songs. Instead, he heard a ghostly whisper that seemed to come from all around him. Unsheathing Fuxue, Song Lan carefully approached the deserted hut, only to stop abruptly when he heard his name.

Song Daozhang.

He couldn‘t answer, even if he had wanted to, so he cautiously stepped closer, eyes darting around to find the spirit that undoubtedly was responsible for this. His steps faltered and he stumbled, as the spirit's next words rustled in his ears.

You left him too, didn't you?

He fought to focus past the heartache and tear-blurred vision.

I didn't want to. I didn't want to. I didn't…

You left him. You left him. You left him and he died. He died, Daozhang.

He had to close his eyes for a moment. He knew this was a vengeful spirit, using his own thoughts against him, and still he was helpless against the guilt that threatened to weigh him down. Determined not to be bested, he turned around in search for the ghost, but all he could make out was that eerie whisper.

He died. He died. He died. HE DIED!

Suddenly, with a gust of energy that even smelled evil, foul and nauseating, the spirit materialised directly behind him, so close he could feel Shuanghua vibrate in warning. He whirled around and struck, only for the spirit to duck away and claw at him. He grunted with shock at a searing pain in his chest, then hurled Fuxue at the ghost‘s neck. The blade connected, and with a loud screech the figure dissolved, leaving only a cloud of dark, coiling energy behind.

Panting heavily, Song Lan dropped Fuxue – with a silent apology to the blade for such undignified treatment – and fumbled for a talisman. In its light, the black mist cleared and left only some sticky black residue in the tall grass.

With a groan, Song Lan dropped unceremoniously down into the grass next to his blade. His breathing slowly calming, he carefully took stock of himself. His robes were torn open, his chest drenched in blood from three large, ragged cuts, leading from his left shoulder down to the opposite hip. He winced and reached for the qiankun bag at his belt to find something to staunch the bleeding, and froze.

The spirit pouch was gone.

Frantically, he scrambled to his knees, all pain forgotten in his rising panic. Sifting through the tall grass where he had stood mere minutes before, he paid no mind to the sharp blades of grass against his hands, his only focus to find it again.

There. With a wave of unmeasurable relief, he spotted the well-worn fabric and came closer to retrieve it, already silently apologising to Xingchen that he had let them be parted so easily.

But all words died when he saw the state of the pouch.

The silk was torn, gashed open like his chest, black and gaping where embroidered flowers should have been.

No. Please, no.

When Xingchen had died, Song Lan had been under the puppet master’s control, but seen all of it unfold, the heartbreak, Xue Yang‘s gleeful explanations, the agony in Xingchen‘s face when he finally put Shuanghua to his own throat. It had etched itself in his memory, and when he finally was free of the needles, he had relived this moment over and over, every time a helpless spectator. The heartbreak he had felt then, the horror, the helplessness, had almost swallowed him, and only Xingchen‘s presence in the spirit pouch had been a thin ray of hope in the darkness.

But nothing, nothing he had felt then could be compared to the terror that now squeezed his heart with an iron fist.

The pouch was empty.

#the untamed #chen qing ling #cql #modao zushi #mdzs #the untamed fic #song lan #song zichen #xiao xingchen #songxiao #angst with a happy ending #fix-it #my writing

25 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 118

Winding down to the end of 2020, when there will be an announcement regarding the story. No worries: I’m not stopping at the end of the year!

First, thanks for this chapter go to: @zommbiebro for Jokul, @wildforestferret for Hannah, @baelpenrose for Alistair and being an amazing Beta Reader/writing partner, and @raven-fae for originally giving me the NERVE to start posting this so long ago. I never imagined that a one-off response to a writing prompt would become so much!

Housekeeping stuff: I updated the Master List and the page links over the weekend (whew), and also finished all the chapters that will post through the end of the year! Much excite, so relief.

Rushing between appointments, I was trying to multitask by looking over one of the files for the cooking class volunteers. Quiet beeps in the back of my mind should have reminded me to watch where I was going as I kept setting off proximity warnings in people I nearly ran into. I was so focused on my task that I ignored the mutters around me of how rude I was being, until the alert suddenly started getting louder and louder, practically screaming before I snapped out of my trance and stopped walking.

In front of me was a familiar set of broad shoulders, and just past him was a wall that I nearly ran us both into. “Conor, what are you doing?” I asked, started to see him seemingly just staring at a wall and humming away.

He turned toward me with a grin, dropping a kiss on the top of my head in greeting. “I didn’t realize that was you,” he answered. “I heard someone coming, but figured they would either turn or rather run into me than the wall.”

“And why are you staring at the wall?”

“Wasn’t staring,” he corrected. “I was working on this.” He stepped aside with a flourish, revealing one of the wall-tanks set up throughout the Ark for Else. Soft yellow motes drifted in the tank, evidence of Else’s continued breakneck evolution. However, this tank had something new in it…

“You put snowflakes in there?” I asked, confused.

He ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “When Sam, Derek, and I started putting out the Insert Winter Holiday decorations this week, Else got curious and asked what we were doing. Derek explained - he talks to them better than I do - and they wanted something in their habitat, too, like we have.”

“And you decided on snowflakes?”

“Else picked that, actually. They are very curious about snow, since they developed… well, here, where there is no weather…”

“I guess that is fair.” Suddenly, I felt rude for talking about Else like they weren’t present. I still hadn’t gotten in the habit of speaking directly to them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you…” I cringed a little inside.

Is okay, Else replied. We are not offended. Will we see real snow one day?

I thought about it. “Probably? Von has atmosphere, and the nights are long enough that the temperature probably gets really cold. It may have the right conditions for snow.”

Many humans think snow is beautiful. We would like to see snow.

“You and me both, buddy,” I admitted. “I love it.”

Conor shuddered. “No thank you. You can keep your cold mush.” Checking his databand, he groaned. “I have to get going. See you later, Else.” He dropped another kiss on my head. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised.

“No bruises?”

“No bruises.”

I smiled before jumping to check the time myself. “Shit,” I swore softly. “Else, I gotta go, too. I have an appointment five minutes ago.”

Humans can time travel?

“I wish,” I muttered, practically running to get there on time. I prayed that Alistair kept Hannah busy while I raced to our interview.

I showed up breathless and dishevelled, but only ten minutes late. Great first impression you’re giving, I scolded myself as I tried to get my hair somewhat more tidy and catch my breath. Straightening, I scanned my datapad and entered my office.

Hannah was nodding seriously at something Alistair was saying, and all I could do was pray he wasn’t telling her some embarrassing story about me. Both of them looked up as I entered, and Hannah approached me to shake my hand. “Hello, Sophia! Or should I address you as Councillor. I’m not entirely sure…”

“Sophia is fine,” I reassured her. “Did Alistair explain why I asked you to meet with me today?”

She shook her head. “No, we were just talking about Zachary’s work with Councilor Ranganathan.”

“That is part of it,” I agreed. “Zach is one of several people who Pranav is mentoring, hoping to build a pool of candidates to fill his position in the future. I asked you to meet with me to see if you would be interested in doing the same, with me?”

Her eyes widened. “You want me… to learn your job?”

“I assure you, it is much safer than I make it look.” I tried to sound confident, but was already bracing for her to reject the position.

“It’s not that - “ Wait, what? “I just. Do you really think I could?”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could do it,” I assured her, somewhat dumbfounded. Recovering quickly, I pushed on. “I want to be clear - this is an elected position, so there is no guarantee that you would be my successor. The goal of the mentorship is to help you decide if you even want to do it, at all, along with ensuring that the Ark has the opportunity to choose between people who definitely know how to do the job. And more importantly, want to do the job.”

Alistair picked up from there. “In the Before, if you remember, many elections were decisions based on which candidate would do the least harm, rather than the most good. The Council is trying to change that.”

She nodded in understanding. “So there would be other people you are mentoring?”

So far, so good. “Hopefully three, yes.”

“Will you be working with us at the same time?”

“If all three of you accept, I am hoping to work with each of you one day per week individually, and the rest collectively,” I confirmed. “More specific than that, I will meet with all of you to explain once I know who has accepted. But I wanted to extend the offer in person, so I can answer any questions you may have.”

Hannah nodded again. “Would we be working the same hours you do?”

I was very glad Alistair and I already thought that part through, along with Tyche’s input. “Initially, no. You would only work half of my shift, and what half would be at my discretion. However, this would be considered your job allotment, so you would not have to worry about any schedule conflicts. The only reason I will be deciding which half of my shift you work is because it may change due to Council meetings that you may not be privy to, or if there is nothing beneficial to your learning happening during the other half.”

“Why only half?” She asked.

“Councilors generally work double shifts,” Alistair advised her. When her eyes widened again, he continued, “In my experience, as her assistant, she will never ask you to work as much as she does, but she is very insistent that if she is not working, neither are you.”

I shook my head at him. “What he isn’t explaining is that there are also often large gaps in my day when I have no appointments and no paperwork to go through. So being in the office for sixteen to twenty hours sounds grueling, but I am rarely here the entire time. That’s just the window when people are allowed to set appointments, or when the Council can convene outside of emergencies.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I was honestly about to walk out until you explained that a bit better.”

I leaned over to Alistair and hissed. “People skills!”

“Professionalism…” he murmured back.

Hannah smiled at our antics. “Another question: What exactly do you do?”

I groaned, and Alistair smirked at me. Jokul had been so right on that point that it wasn’t even funny. “Since Zach is shadowing Pranav, I’m going to assume you know how the parts about voting in Council sessions works, right?” She nodded. “Okay, so that’s the big part that most people know about. They vote on an issue, their votes go to their representative Councilor, who votes on their behalf, short version. On a day to day basis, each Councilor is responsible for heading up everything on the Ark in a certain field. For me, that’s any large scale events, staffing, or major adjustments to how people are able to live their day-to-day lives. I have one assistant,” I gestured to Alistair, “and an Administrator, my sister Tyche. She handles all of the small staffing concerns, because she is amazing at it.”

“So… Insert Winter Holiday, the annual Food festival…?”

I nodded. “Along with the gravity changes, the day cycle changes, the proximity alerts, creating and maintaining quiet rooms, finding people to back fill gaps caused by large projects or initiatives, large scale announcements to the ship, et cetera.”

“That’s… a lot…” She bit her bottom lip in concern.

“Really, it’s a handful of major events each year, plus the daily stuff. And I work really closely with the other Councilors, largely because once most projects are past a staffing point, it falls under their jurisdiction to execute.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay…” After a moment, she nodded much more firmly. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

One down, two to go, I cheered in my head as I resisted the urge to scream with joy.

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #aliens #original science fiction #science fiction #scifi #apocalypse #learning to live #hfy #earth is space australia #original writing #my writing

61 notes · View notes

greyfongschemmenti · 4 years ago

Text

In These Arms | Chapter 3: Banishment

Thanks again to TheRoadLessTraveled for editing and Ash for beta reading.

Lost in thought, you notice that Asami and Korra have been hanging out more as of late. Asami was planning to take a drive with Korra in the city when you left Air Temple Island with Lin and Mako. It makes you happy that she’s making friends with another girl. It was good to have more than just one friend.. Your mind snaps back to the present as you’re giving orders to the recruits for the day’s group training session. You hand one of your officers the reins as you head in for individual interviews. As you take a seat, a bright eyed and fresh faced young man sits in front of you as you set your interview papers onto the desk. “Mr. Paq, I just have some questions for you to start off this interview process.” You don’t look up at him before starting, jaded as you are with the process thus far. “Let’s start with the basics…why do you want to work in law enforcement?”.

The remainder of the day was filled with interviews and observing training. Ever since the spirit vines had taken over much of the city, headquarters has been swamped with a spike in gang activity and policing the public tension. Through your open office door, you notice Lin and her officers walking past, and you catch part of their conversation. , “My uncle told me the Avatar almost wrecked that building! It was about to tip over before they braced it!”

I’m sorry what?! “Yeah heard about it from my brother, he was there!” another officer joined in on the conversation. “Get back to work!” Lin barked to the officers and soon all chatter ceased. You rose from your desk and walked over to Lin’s office, knocking on her doorframe “Chief…”

“Captain” she returns as she motions you to come in

“So, word on the streets is Korra caused a building to tip over?” you fold your arms as you lean against the wall.

“Word travels fast…” Lin rolls her eyes and groans.

“Anyone in the building?”

“We got them all out safe” Lin pinched the bridge of her nose as she started to pick up another folder of reports.

“What abou—”

“Chief…Captain!! There’s a call of a possible 10-56A over at the Kyoshi bridge, it’s the airbender Mako was talking about earlier!” Officer Song reports. You snap into action and Lin jumps from behind her desk, both of you making way out the bullpen.

“Song, gather the task force and meet us at the bridge. Further orders to come once we get there.” You bark to the retreating officer.

“Understood captain.” Song gave you a salute and ran off to scramble a metalbending force. You and Lin head down to the Chief’s squad car, sirens blaring as you peel out of the garage towards the latest crisis.

Lin took control down at ground level while you and the metalbenders scaled up the bridge supports to surround the man. As the squad gets into position, you order your men “On my command and ONLY my command. Do not engage. I repeat, DO NOT engage.” The officers acknowledge your orders with nods as you look at the man desperately clinging to a column of the bridge.

“Come down immediately, or we will be forced to take action.” Lin’s voice can be heard from a megaphone.

“Stay back! I'm dangerous!” the man yells out as he hyperventilates, looking out at the scene in front of him.

“Sir, it’s okay! We’re not here to hurt you! We ju—” you try and calmly talk to him when an officer shoots out a cable from his armor towards the man. He spreads his arms, reflexively airbending outwards, blowing all the officers off the bridge. “Sorry!” the man yells out. You yell back as you shoot out a cable to grab onto the side of the bridge and pull yourself up - gathering your footing and landing on the bridge safely. You stalk towards the officer putting a finger on his chest, growling under your breath “What the FUCK did I say, officer” You avoid making a scene, what with the press watching their every move, but you resolve to tear into the officer later.

Your eyes catch Korra flying up to the bridge and you walk away from the officer to stand beside Mako and Lin.

“Think Korra can talk some sense into him?” you look up and watch Korra and the man you’ve learned from Mako is named Daw.

“Would help her reputation if she does” Lin comments “He’s not listening to reason. Hopefully Korra can talk him down.” You all turn to watch the scene above.

After a couple minutes of talking, Korra stretches her hand out to Daw and he attempts to take it. As he does, one of his feet slips off the ledge and he starts hurtling towards the pavement with a scream. Korra immediately throws herself off the bridge and dives after him. Catching him by the waist, Korra opens her glider just in time and they drift upwards for a moment before landing safely near the police cordon. Tenzin walks up to the new airbender, welcoming him with genuine excitement. The police force stays back as Korra and Tenzin talk to Daw, only to be interrupted by Raiko.

“We have a crisis every other day now, thanks to you.”

Korra, surprisingly taking a calm approach, talks to Raiko while he keeps digging at her in response

“Well, you know who's not here to stay? You! I order you to leave this city. You've caused nothing but trouble since you arrived!” The crowd including you gasp with shock

“That’s a bit much,” you whisper, making a step forward, but Lin grabs your arm to stop you and shakes her head.

“We can’t interfere, it’s between the two of them.” She lowers her voice as you look at her, incredulous.

“I’m not going to talk to Raiko” you walk over to Korra and Tenzin. You listen in to her plan and you chime in to tell her that you and Mako will search for any reports of airbenders in the city and other nations. Korra and Tenzin thank you for your support and help before you turn around to walk back to Lin.

“Do you always need to meddle?” Lin groans folding her arms and you get a bit ticked off.

“When it concerns friends and loved ones, yes” getting an eye roll from Lin

You walk into Lin’s office after the whole banishment thing and ask Lin’s assistant to bring in some lavender tea. The assistant looks over at the chief and she nodded her assent as you take a seat across from her desk. Rubbing your temple as Lin takes a seat at her desk she pinches the bridge of her nose and you look over at her, “You do agree that Raiko’s decision on Korra’s banishment is fucking stupid?”

Lin looks up at you and gives you a glare “Language, captain. I don’t need to start hearing any more of that around the bullpen then I already do.” she breathes in and sighs “But yes… his decision was indeed stupid.”

You were about to start your rant when the assistant walked in with the tray, so you keep quiet as you thanked him as he bows and excuses himself out of the office closing the door. “I always wondered how Raiko even got the presidency but now I’m not surprised. It’s all about schmoozing and kissing ass - I mean flattery will get you anywhere in the political system.” you correct yourself before Lin can give you another look as she pours the tea into the cups and hands you one. You thank her and carefully blow to cool it down then take a sip, taking a moment to breathe in the stress-relieving tea.

“I’m not happy about it either. I can’t keep the Avatar safe when she’s not going to be within the city limits.”

“Raiko always needs an ego boost in front of the press which doesn’t help the public, so he had to make a spectacle to get back into their good graces” you spat as you take another sip of the tea.

“No use sulking about it. Don’t let it interfere with work.” she takes a sip of the tea and you nod as you finish your cup

“Right, like I would let Raiko do that.” You roll your eyes and set the cup on the tray and stand up. “Well since Korra and Tenzin are leaving us. I guess I should get started with sorting through reports on other Airbenders. That should help them, I’ll get Mako to assist.” you voice your thoughts aloud as you walk to the door, Lin waves you off as she reads a report.

Mako brings over several reports from Ba Sing Se about a sudden rise of airbenders. You think up an idea, get up from your desk and walk over to the wall - taking down your map and laying it on your desk. “Wherever there’s been a report, we’ll mark it on the map.” Grabbing a marker and putting circles around the areas so far you’ve heard of reports from. Mako mentions a report in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se “That’s where I’m from” you mutter softly causing Mako to join in

“My dad was from there too”.

“Have you ever visited your family?” you ask while you go over the reports.

“No, never had the money and I was too busy trying to keep Bolin and I alive” you shrugged as he added another mark on the map, “You?” he asks.

“No, it’s been years since I’ve last visited. It’s not a place I’m particularly fond of.”

“how come?” Mako looks over at you as you read a report.

“It reminded me of what I’ve lost, my parents” you mutter, not giving much emotion as you said those words.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry” Mako mutters softly.

“It’s okay, I’ve come to terms with it” you assured him as you walk back to the map to add another mark watching the number of reports spread, “Woah there have been this many reports?” you put your papers down and move the map towards you.

“Yeah, maybe we can give this map to Tenzin and Korra” Mako says and you nod

“Yeah, that’s a good idea” you roll up the map and hand it to Mako - he looks surprised and confused “Care to do the honors, detective?” you give him a smile as he shakes his head.

“Uh—no, you should do it since you’re captain” he gives you back the map in your hands.

You sigh and smile softly “How much longer are you going to be weird around Korra and Asami?.” You look at Mako and when he doesn’t say anything you add “As captain, I have pressing matters to attend to at the academy. You can do this…just don’t be so stiff around Korra. She’s still your friend after all.” You give him a soft smile and a pat on the back of his shoulder as you escort him out the office.

Dropping off the week’s patrol schedules and new inspections on personnel onto Lin’s desk, she just gotten done signing her name on a report. You take a seat and groan laying your head back, “Rough day?” Lin mumbles not taking her eyes off the papers. “Though I agree and support Korra’s decision on keeping the portals open. The rising rate of crime is something I don’t support” you groan as you rub your eyes a slight laugh escapes Lin’s lips “A price to pay it seems”. You rub your face as you lift your head and look at Lin, a slight rise builds inside you as you flick your finger and quietly lock the door as you get up from the chair and walk around the desk.

“y/n?” Lin softly speaks your name and notices you walking over to her but continues to go over her pile of papers.

You stand behind Lin and lean down, moving her hair aside and whisper, “How about we stay in tonight…” a kiss behind her ear “…watch a mover” another kiss down her neck “…or enjoy some music...a glass of wine” a kiss lower her neck as Lin sighs at the touch of your lips “Just the two of us” you softly peck Lin’s neck. “The door…” Lin whispers and you smile “It’s locked….” you kiss her neck as Lin closes her eyes and bites her lip “Just the two of us? I… like the sound of that” a happy sigh escapes her lips.

“Me too” you whisper, kissing behind her ear then grabbing the arms of her chair and turning her as you start kissing her. You pull back and something catches your attention and you look down at her desk “Wait what is that…” you sound confused “Get up…I think there’s something on your desk” you lean down and check under Lin’s desk “On my desk? What are you talking about?” Lin stands up and looks over your shoulder. “Yeah there’s something on your desk” you state, then get up and smirk as you put your hands on her thighs and lift her up to sit her down on the desk “Oh wait it’s you” you smirk while you wrap your arms around her “That wasn’t funny or cute” she glares at you and you smile pouting your lips “I’m sorry, let me make it up to you” grinning as you lean in and slowly start kissing her. She kisses you back running her hand up into your hair. Your tongue swipes over her bottom lip, tasting her. Her lips part, your tongues dancing against one another until you pull back for breath. “I should sto….” You trail off in a whisper as your eyes stare back at her lips and you lean back in as you tug Lin’s waist closer to yours, standing between her legs.

Her phone rings and she groans before pushing away, putting her hand over your mouth as she composes herself and answers “Chief Beifong” managing her usual tone. You peck your lips on her palm and your ears pick up and recognize that it’s Mako’s voice. You want Lin to keep working, but you're just craving to put your lips on her skin. It’s just Mako . You grab onto Lin’s hand and kiss her hand before dipping your face into her neck and start kissing it while listening in on the conversation. Lin bites her lip as her hand grips your waist while she listens to Mako. “Spit it out already, Mako” she groans - a mix of aggravation of wanting Mako to say what he wanted and also by her reaction from your lips. Mako asks her for permission to go to Ba Sing Se with Korra and Tenzin. Mako tries to give her reasons to let him go but Lin cuts him off “Yes, fine. Go” she accepts quicker than Mako thought because he stutters on the other side of the line. She tries to focus on the conversation as your teeth graze against the back of her ear, causing Lin to put her hand on the phone to muffle her little moans “y/n…” she breaths trying to compose herself again while putting the phone back to her ear “Are you done, Mako?”

“Yeah—I mean—” Lin hangs up on him and runs her hand up your arm.

“What did Mako want?” you mumble as you bring your lips to her jaw.

“A trip to Ba Sing Se with Tenzin and Korra” she breathes out as she pulls your lips to hers and you continue to make out with her “That’s nice...” you mutter against her lips.

“Mhmm” Lin nods as she bites down on your lower lip causing a groan to escape you, “We’ll be alone in the city” you add pulling your lips back and pressing your forehead against hers “Yeah…” she breathes and lifts your face up giving you a deep searing kiss before pushing you away “That was completely inappropriate.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if it was an important call…”

“I would mark that as harassment. Back to work” she wipes her lip with her thumb and pointer finger as she slides down the desk. You groan hanging your head down, “Fine, Sorry chief”. You look over at Lin’s small mirror and fix yourself back up, you notice Lin giving you a smirk causing you to look down not feeling as bad. Making sure to wipe your lips to remove the lipstick stains then look at Lin getting back to her chair. She pulls open her right hand drawer and takes out a tube of lipstick, reapplying before you open the door “I’ll get those notes to you, chief” you spoke back in your work voice as you leave the office, surprised you just got away with that.

Stepping onto air temple island after leaving work early and not wanting to be at the apartment alone you run into Kya, Pema and the kids. “Hey everyone, I bet it’s getting pretty exciting here on the island” you smile as you slide your hands into your pockets. “Yes, we are over the moon about the new rise of airbenders” Pema gleams as she holds Rohan. “I’m sure dad would be so happy” Kya adds, and you give her a sympathetic nod “I’m sure he is”. Rohan starts to get fussy and Pema turns to Kya and asks her if she can watch Meelo and Ikki while she attends to Rohan.

Meelo and Ikki notice your presence and come running over to you and start tugging on your shirt and cuffs. “Oh hey, you nibblers, I thought I was safe” you laugh as you kneel down and give them hugs. Kya steps forward “Careful guys, you can’t just attack everyone who comes to visit” she puts on her ‘aunt voice’ and you smile looking up at her, “It’s fine”.

“Come on let’s play, y/n!” Ikki jumps as Meelo does his usual jump up to piggyback on your shoulders “Yeah!”

You laugh and look at Kya “Well I guess it’s playtime, want to join?” you ask Kya and she nods “Best I come in case of injury” and you chuckle “Good idea”

Meelo and Ikki start jumping rope while you and Kya hold the rope for a couple of minutes before the kids get bored. “How about the launching game?!?” Meelo suggests which got you a look from Kya and you wince “Uh what launching game?” Kya questions and you try to stop the kids. “Oh, y/n launches up in the air with her earthbending columns” Ikki smiles.

Kya jerks her head at you, and you put your hands in the air “I don’t launch them up high! Just enough for it to be fun, but safe” you try to explain yourself. Kya shakes her head but smiles “Well show me miss catapult” folding her arms. You sigh as you unbutton your uniform jacket off and set it gently on a tree branch before walking over to the kids and ask if they’re ready and get into position. They do so and you inhale deeply and stomp your foot down earthbending two columns and launch the kids up in the air, hearing them laugh as they start coming down. “This time launch us at each other!” Meelo runs at one side while Ikki runs to another and you shrug “Uh, okay…sure” you look at the both of them and launch them up in the air and watch as they grab their other’s forearm and start spinning around each other.

After about an hour of playing with the kids you sit down beside Kya and catch a breath. Kya is taking in the sunset enjoying the rays as she watches Meelo and Ikki run around, “I miss having that kind of energy”

“Yeah, they always seemed to be at full charge all day.” You laugh and get up to grab your jacket before sitting back down. Kya notices the scar on your arm and her eyebrows furrow as she concentrates “Can I ask… Where did you get that mark? ” she takes a moment to ask and you glance down at it and tell her the story. “Huh…I met someone with a similar experience except the person I ran into would have had a mark on their back too…”

“On the left side” the both of you finished in unison. Kya looks at you surprised, and you turn your back towards her and lift your tank up to show her.

You turn back around and your eyes widen as you look at Kya “I knew your eyes felt familiar - you’re the healer that saved me!”

“My eyes? Such a small world” Kya says as she lets out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re telling me.” you laugh, joining in.

“Wow, and here you are.” She motions to you.

“Here I am” you smile and rub the back of your neck “Your eyes were the only thing I remembered. They were the brightest blue eyes I saw. Trusting."

"Thanks" Kya blushed slightly and smiled you nodded and looked down fumbling with your hands "I never got to thank you, by the way. I tried looking for you when I got better, but was told you had already left Ba Sing Se” you put on the uniform jacket and buttoned it up.

“I was only there for a few days. I ran into you as I was leaving, and you were beaten and burned badly. I had to help” she spoke softly as she remembers that night.

“Well thank you. I owe you my life” you sit back down beside her as you pull your knees up and rests your arms on them.

“Nonsense, anyone would have done it” she waves and brushes off the sentiment.

“I don’t know. The lower ring is a different place. Most of the time people are just left out to die with how bad the living conditions are there.” You look down as you stop talking - silence settles between you both before you talk again “Sincerely though, I’m grateful. I’m in your debt”

“And you helped save Jinora. That debt is well paid off.” she smiles and then adds “I’ve always wondered what happened to you - if you were well. I’m glad you are. That’s all a healer hopes for.”

You smile softly as you look down slightly before glancing out at the scenery “Yeah, I’m well. Just like I told Tenzin, I would have done it no questions asked”.

Pema calls the kids inside for dinner as she walks towards you and Kya “Dinner’s ready, Kya. y/n would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Sure, why not. Thanks for offering” you smile as you get up, dusting yourself off and join the women inside.

“How’s everything at the station, y/n?” Pema starts the conversation as everyone eats their dinner.

“Hectic in all honesty. With the spirit vines there has been rising tension in the city, but that’s what’s to come when change happens. We all just have to adjust to it.” You smile softly as you push some veggies around in your plate before munching on a steamed carrot.

“What about everything here on the island? I bet it’s getting hectic here” you look at Kya and Pema.

“We’re all very excited to start receiving the new airbenders,” Pema smiles as she cradles Rohan in her arms.

“I bet” you smile as Meelo jumps up “We’re going to whip those benders to shape!” he poses as a commander “I’m sure you are, Meelo” you chuckle “What about you Ikki?” you glance over at her and she smiles excitedly “I’m so excited to be a teacher! Daddy says I get to keep my room too!” she clasps her hands together. “Well the new benders are going to need a lot of guidance, but go easy. Airbending is new to them.” You give them a smile as they listen attentively. Dinner continues on and soon Pema calls for the kids to get ready for bed while you and Kya help with the dishes.

“You have a way with kids, y/n” Pema comments as she washes the dishes while Kya checks on the kids.

“Yeah, I love kids.” You smile softly as you dry the dishes.

“Ever thought about having kids of your own?” Pema asks and you sort of drop a dish in the sink filled with water and pick it back up “Kids? Of my own? No... I think I’m too young to think about kids” you laugh as a slight blush creeps on your cheeks.

“Really? I guess to each their own. So you never thought about it?”

“No, not really. Not kids of my own anyways. I’ve been busy working and living to think about the possibility of raising kids” you shrug as you set the dishes up. “Plus, your kids are a handful. I think they kill any thought of me wanting kids…I’d miss the quiet” you laugh but quickly apologize to Pema “I’m sorry, it was a joke. I care for your children, but—”

“It’s okay, y/n. I agree sometimes they are a handful, but I don’t regret the life I chose” she smiles assuring to you then sets down her wash rag “I should check on the kids…and Kya”

“Right, I should get back to the city. Thanks for everything tonight, Pema. Everything was delicious.” You started to head out when Pema stops you and hands you a bamboo basket “I had plenty leftovers, so I made you a takeaway bag”

“Thanks, you shouldn’t have, but it’ll make for a good breakfast” you smile and raise the box a bit in gratitude before leaving the island.

“Lin?” you call out into the empty apartment and sigh “Even when I hang out at the island and have dinner I still somehow make it back before her” you mutter as you smile putting the food in the ice box. You grab a cup and fill it with some ice, then measuring out a finger of whiskey before sitting out on the terrace and looking out at the night sky. After fifteen minutes of gazing at the stars your attention is back on the room when you want to listen to some music. You stand up and grab the radio and bring it outside and turn the knob on. A lovely jazzy melody plays as you sit back down and enjoy your nightcap, looking out over the city skyline. The faint sound of the door opening has you stirring, and Lin’s voice calls out your name as you tell her where you are. She walks over to you as she slowly settles out of work mode as she leans over and gives you a kiss, “Hi” she whispers on your lips and you smile “Hi” you whisper back and kiss her back. “You’ve been here the entire time after work?” Lin heads back inside and starts changing into her house clothes. You turn down the volume and bring the music inside as you close the door behind you, following Lin, “No, I actually had dinner over at the Island. I was hoping to catch Tenzin and Team Avatar before they left, but they were long gone. So I ended up spending time with the airbending kids, Pema, and Kya.” You sit down on the couch as Lin continues the conversation in the bedroom. “Pema had you look after the kids? Don’t let her do that if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no, the kids asked me to play. I didn’t mind…” You smile as you take a sip of your whiskey. Lin comes out in her white tank top and sweats as she fixes her hair and changes into her house shoes.

“I brought leftovers from dinner if you’re hungry. I can heat them up for you” you get up and kiss the left side of her temple before heading to the kitchen. “You don’t have to, y/n” Lin remarked “I want to. I just didn’t know when you were coming home, go sit at the table.” You smile as you start heating up the food Pema made. Once they were done you make a plate for Lin, bringing her to the outdoor couch on the terrace as you grab a throw blanket and hold each other as she eats and you watch the sky, “Why do you like being out here so much?” Lin mumbled on your shoulder as she pulled the blanket more on her. “It's peaceful, the sky, the noise from the city as it starts to quiet down as people fall asleep.” You speak softly, holding Lin close as she huddles to you looking at the sky, not understanding, but content nonetheless. You put an arm behind your head to prop it up on the arm rest while you’re both laying down. “Also, It’s become my favorite time of day because it’s when I know I can be with you without anyone looking.” You look down and she lifts her head up to look at you and you dip your head down and slowly kiss her. “I love being with you, Lin” you whisper against her lips as you share another kiss with your girlfriend. Lin lifts her head up and slowly moves herself on top of you and straddles on top of you as you kiss each other, your hands moving onto her waist, so she doesn’t fall off of you. Hands slide up her sides as you pull her waist close to yours while you kiss her deep and slow, “Let’s go to bed…” Lin mumbles against your lips and you nod slowly as she crawls off of you, you sit up and hold her hand as you walk to the bedroom and lay down wrapping your arms around her. Your legs intertwine as you kiss her shoulder. Lin smiles in your arms and runs her hand up and down your back, you’re dozing off from her soothing touch and she slowly falls asleep along with you. In peace in each other arms.

#lin x reader #linbeifongxreader #linbeifong x reader #lin beifong x reader #TLOK3InTheseArms #fyrefics

20 notes · View notes

yespolkadotkitty · 5 years ago

Text

About That Night, pt 1

A Clark Kent x OFC AU

Come on, come on.

Jess Kazinsky tried to tamp down on her impatience as she waited in line at the airport hotel - unusually nice for a budget outfit. Flowers on the desk - fresh ones, not fake. And the staff looked as if they didn’t hate being here.

Unfortunately, no one in line, including Jess, felt the same way.

Connecting flights had been grounded due to a freak snowstorm. Not unheard of for April, but definitely unwanted, and so three planes’ worth of people waited, disgruntled, as the two overworked desk clerks tried to find them enough rooms for one night.

Jess just had to cross her fingers and hope that the rooms didn’t run out before her turn.

With a sigh, she set her hard shell suitcase on the carpeted hotel lobby floor and sat on it.

“Bad day, huh?”

She glanced up, and then back again, because no way was a guy this handsome speaking to her.

Jess looked behind her, forgetting she was sitting, and came face-to-ass with the behind of a stout Danny DeVito type.

“No worse than anyone else’s, I guess,” she answered, gazing up into eyes the blue of the sea in midsummer. The black-framed glasses he wore suited his face, only served to make those baby blues even bluer.

“Optimism. I like it.”

She smiled. “This far down the line, optimism is all I’ve got.” She meant it in several ways, actually, but of course Tall, Dark and Gorgeous would only know about the hotel situation. “Where you headed?”

“I’m on my way home.” He didn’t elaborate, but his manner was friendly, as was that smooth American accent. “You?”

“To a will reading. My Babka died.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. A genuinely nice guy. Perhaps the only one left in the known world.

His phone chirped and Jess swivelled on her suitcase to let him answer it with at least a modicum of privacy. She tuned out his velvet-smooth voice as the line moved, and when space allowed, she righted her suitcase. A few people had left the queue in search of another hotel - good luck, guys! - and then suddenly it was her turn.

“Hi,” she began, trying charm.

The clerk looked up. His eyes were dull, probably from dealing with so many stressed customers - not all of whom would have been kind. Or even civil. His badge read OWEN.

“We have one room left.”

“I’ll take it!”

“Excuse me,” Mr Gorgeous piped up from behind her. Jess noticed that he was last in line. “Did you say you were completely out of rooms?”

“Yes Sir,” Owen confirmed miserably.

Jess looked from the clerk to Mr Gorgeous. She was a woman travelling alone. Surely she trumped the tall, handsome guy’s need for a room?

“I wasn’t butting in,” Mr Gorgeous told her. He didn’t seem to have an evil ulterior motive, but you never knew, these days. “You should have the room.”

“Well, I was here before you,” Jess said sweetly. “And, I have a tragic past.”

“That trumps my teenage acne,” Mr Gorgeous deadpanned.

Jess mentally rolled her eyes. No way had this guy ever been short of pant-droppingly hot.

The second desk clerk finished her admin and looked up. “Oh, hey, Mr Kent! How are you?”

Jess got her passport out for ID as Mr Gorgeous - no, Mr Kent, make that - moved to stand next to her at the curved check in desk.

“Hey, Sandy. How’s it going?”

“Oh, just fine. It’s too bad about the snow, but a good night for business.”

Jess’s clerk asked her some standard questions as she tried to eavesdrop on Kent’s conversation with the cheerful clerk.

“I’m sure we have some staff space…” Sandy was saying.

Jess’ curiosity got the better of her. “Excuse me. Do you…. Work here?” she asked the tall stranger.

“No, actually, I own the hotel.”

“Oh.” Had she said that out loud? “Er….” What was she meant to do now? Give up her room?

“I don’t expect you to give up your room, by the way.”

“Oh,” she said again. Dammit Jess! Use your brain! “Er, great. You should have said. About you owning the hotel.”

He smiled slightly. “Seems to me like that would have been a dick move, and I try not to be a dick.”

“Well, you not being a dick means I get to be cosy tonight, so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Er, Mr Kent - I’m sorry, but we haven’t been able to send all the staff home after their shifts because of the storm. We’re out of space. Entirely.”

Jess tried to make herself as small as possible as Owen studiously tapped her details into the computer. I got here first. He has way more money than me, he owns the place, for God’s sake!

“Is there a spare office with a couch?” Kent asked.

Jess leaned forward. “Er, how big is my room?” she whispered.

“A twin,” he whispered back.

“There is the GM’s room, but the couch… isn’t the best,” Sandy replied.

Kent shrugged. “It’s only one night.”

“Hell, I’d share a room with him,” Owen muttered, and Jess swallowed back a laugh.

“It’s yours if you want it,” she whispered.

“Mr Kent doesn’t bat for my team, unfortunately,” Owen mourned. “All done for you, Miss,” he said, brighter now than when she’d arrived at the desk. “Room 103. Last room available.”

Jess took the offered keycard and glanced over, where Mr Gorgeous was wrapping up his conversation with Sandy. Where would he sleep? She pictured his long legs hanging over the edge of a short couch.

One night on a lumpy couch wouldn’t kill him.

Still…

“Hey, tall dark and gorgeous,” she said, lifting her voice.

He looked over, his expression more curious than anything. He’d wondered if she meant him. Who else was there?

“Can I buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do after stealing your bed.”

Thanking my beta, @princess-of-riviaa

Tagging my Henry pals and anyone who might like this (Please ask to be added or dropped from the tag list): @alyxkbrl @hopelessromanticspoonie @just-the-hiddles @mitzwinchester @ohjules @promptandpros @trippedmetaldetector @mrsaugustwalker @wanderinglunarnights @dancingwendigo @littlefreya @andahugaroundtheneck @watermeloncavill @dr-kayleigh-dh @omgkatinka I’m sorry if I missed you out!!!

#clark kent au #clark kent fic #henry cavill fic #imagine clark kent #imagine henry cavill

177 notes · View notes

rollercoasterwrite · 4 years ago

Text

I’m So Curious [Chapter 2]

CHAPTER 1

Prompt : Jjong is a college student with tight money, but manages to get into a prestigious uni where he becomes friends with Taemin. One day, Tae asks him to go out on a blind date with his cousin Jinki, a notable lawyer who still hesitates about dating someone. Jjong refuses, but the amount of money Tae offers is a sight he can’t ignore. Jinki adores him immediately and after several dates, Jonghyun falls in love with Jinki, but he doesn’t know how to tell Jinki about his agreement with Tae.

Pairing : Jongyu

Genre : romance, fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

Word Count : 9 400 ~

Links : AFF & AO3

Special thanks to Cheryl, my beta once again!!!

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

If Jonghyun had thought he could've had a peaceful morning after having a troubled night of sleep, he realized he was gravely mistaken.

Loud knocks fell rhythmically against his dorm room's door like a hammer hitting a nail repeatedly, the sound instantly awakening his rage impulse.

He gave the door a death stare it didn't deserve before walking towards it, not even minding that he was only clad in short briefs.

"What?!" he burst out as the door swung open from his forceful pull.

The intent of his demeanour was miserably lost on the young brunette that stood before him. The latter just walked in as if he owned the place, wasting no time settling comfortably on the living room's small couch.

Jonghyun's gaze followed, watching as the other casually hooked a leg over the seat's arm before looking straight at him.

"Did you guys fuck?"

The question dropped without notice, completely throwing off the blonde's stubborn grumpiness.

"Excuse me?" he let out in a voice that crescendoed from sheer astonishment.

"Why don't you start by closing the door," the other said, unbothered. "Unless you want everyone to know your business."

Jonghyun's bewildered look moved away from the other for the length of time it took to shut and lock the door before he brought it back on him.

"What's your fucking deal?" he voiced as frustration grew back into his tone.

"Don't get mad at me," the younger one replied, scoffing. "Taemin said you went on a date with his cousin, so I wanted to be the first to get the crunchy details."

A feline smile stretched across bowed lips as surprise read boldly on the blonde's face.

"Taemin told you?" the latter asked.

"Didn't you hear my opening question?" the brunette reminded with a frown.

Jonghyun frowned back in confusion before his face slowly relaxed.

"That isn't any of your business," he said, opting for a casual tone this time.

"Well yes, it is," the other countered. "Who else are you going to share this with? It's not like you are going to tell Taemin how good or how bad sex was with his cousin."

Jonghyun gave him a stone-hard look.

"Taemin just wanted me to go on a date with the guy, don't get shit twisted."

"You mean he paid you to go on a date," the brunette corrected. "So you had to put out."

That was enough to make the blonde's blood boil hot. "Kibum," he gritted menacingly. "Get out." "Come on, Jjong," his friend maintained in a calm tone. "I'm not gonna make fun, I just want to know if you had a good time." Jonghyun knew better than to trust those words. "I'm not telling you jack shit." Kibum's face hardened. Cold eyes silently battled with fiery ones before it became clear that a strategic retreat was the best course of action. "Fine," the younger one curtly said. He got back up on his two feet and promptly walked past the other, making sure to slam the door on his way out. A loud sigh left the blonde's mouth before he rubbed some of the tension off his face. It wasn't even 9 am yet and he already felt like the day was dragging on too long. But that wasn't anything new. The only thing that could help revive his functioning corpse was a fresh brew. Not wasting another second on thoughts, he moved to the small space that acted as a kitchen and got his small coffee machine running. As the strong and comforting smell filled the air, Jonghyun closed his eyes, trying to catch a break from everything.

But that was probably the worst thing he could’ve done at that moment. The very image that had played hide and seek with his mind for the past few hours came right at him with vivid details that made his chest and core tighten. His eyes shot open before that sensation could travel any lower.

He reached for one of his cupboard’s handle with a slightly trembling hand and pulled out his favorite mug. It was a light cream-colored mug that was a bit chipped at the rim and had a stained bottom, but it was a memento of moments from the past that he didn’t see himself being able to let go of. Not yet.

He filled it to the brim with the steaming hot liquid, enjoying the stark contrast between the colors. Cream and dark brown met against the fullest of his lips, the softest of inhales giving him a first taste of his favorite remedy. His face inevitably warmed up from the waves of heat that ran out through the tight space created by his hunched stance over his cup. It was then that he sunk in, plunging mouth first into the rich and dark pool that floated before him. Taking the dive had never felt better than in that moment.

A few invigorating laps in, he turned towards his living room to look out through the window. The day was a cloudy one, prefacing possible outbursts of rain. If it were anyone else, that might’ve been a depressing sight, but to Jonghyun it was comforting. He felt his shoulders relax as his eyes stilled on the scenery.

This moment could’ve been perfect in every way, but peace seemed to always be too much to ask for in Jonghyun’s world. Another series of knocks on his door jolted him back into a tense state.

I swear to fucking God…

He had the good sense to put down his cup on the counter before marching back towards the front door to tell his friend off.

"Go away, Kibum," he yelled at the closed door.

A muffled titter reached him from the other side. "Hyung, it’s not Bummie."

At that, Jonghyun felt a stab of anxiety. "Um… I’m… I’m… naked."

"So? I’ve seen your dick before," the other said, raising his voice to be heard.

The blonde had to close his eyes and take a deep breath not to feed into his murderous urges. He knew if he kept arguing through the door, more embarrassing things would probably come out of the other’s mouth, so he had to settle on opening the door. Even if that was literally the last thing he wanted to do right now.

He had barely pulled it open when he felt himself stumble backwards from the force of another body launching forward into him. A thumping sound reverberated from their chests colliding as arms wrapped tightly around his bare torso.

"Get off of me," he ordered, voice muffled from the shock of hair that pressed against part of his face.

The grip around him just got tighter, almost cutting off his breath, and for a moment there, he wondered if this was turning into an attempt on his life. Fortunately, it didn’t get to that as the other let go and stepped back. The grin he was sporting between his full cheeks didn’t feel even slightly reassuring to the blonde.

"What are you smiling about?" the latter asked, nervous.

If it was even possible the brunette’s smile grew even wider. He looked like he was about to burst into a million particles from how frantic his energy felt.

"I knew it!" Taemin finally exploded as he threw his arms up in victory.

Jonghyun cocked a brow, confused. "You knew what?"

There was a pause as the other looked him up and down with a narrowed gaze.

"You said you were naked," Taemin reminded, frown drawing his eyebrows close.

"I lied," Jonghyun admitted.

The brunette’s mouth dropped open as the crease grew deeper between his eyes.

"Why would you do that?"

A visible contraction ran through the blonde’s jaw. "I just wanted to have a peaceful morning, but I guess that was too much to ask for."

With that, he walked back to the counter and picked up his mug, determined to at least enjoy a nice cup of coffee.

"Can you please close the door?" Jonghyun asked as he glanced at the slight opening that remained.

The younger one did just that before taking a few steps towards him.

"I didn’t mean to disturb your peace," Taemin said in a more subdued tone. "I was just really excited to share the good news. "

"And what would that be?" Jonghyun inquired, gripping his mug closer.

Taemin’s lips stretched into a smile again. " He likes you, like a lot. "

And right on cue, Jonghyun’s heart flipped.

Shit.

"Who’s he?" he feigned in a measly attempt to remain in denial.

Taemin crossed his arms, unamused. "For real, now?"

Jonghyun didn’t budge, focusing instead on getting more coffee into his system.

"You know very well who I’m talking about," Taemin stated before his eyes zeroed in on the other’s cup.

"Are you not going to offer me some coffee?" he said, lips curling into a pout.

"Are you not going to finish what you were saying?" Jonghyun echoed, baffled by the sudden change of topic.

"Oh, so you’re interested now?" the younger one fired back.

A staring contest ensued, which the blonde conveniently abandoned to grab another mug from the cupboard. He filled it with what had remained in the coffee pot and handed it to his friend who, in the meantime, had wiggled his way closer.

"Thank you, Jjongie," the latter cooed as he bounced lightly on his feet.

Jonghyun watched as he took a long first sip, taking that lull in conversation to mentally prepare for what was to come. He really wished he had had his much needed alone time to sort things out.

Feeling like his body would need assistance soon, he moved to the couch and slowly settled onto one of the soft cushions. Of course, that meant being copied two minutes later by the other one who sat right beside him. Jonghyun held in an annoyed sigh.

"So, are you ready to talk about this now?" the brunette verified as he shifted his body aslant to better look at him.

"Yeah, whatever," Jonghyun answered, shoulders inadvertently hunching over.

"What did you think of him?" Taemin immediately asked.

The blonde’s eyes flicked sideways to catch the other’s face before he reverted to the comforting sight of his filled mug. His mind felt jumbled and whenever that happened, there was a risk he’d say something he would regret. He couldn’t afford that right now. He was naked enough as it was.

"He’s… nice," he finally chose. The simplest answer was surely his best option right now.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to suffice for his friend.

"Nice?" Taemin threw back with a cocked brow.

"Yeah," Jonghyun maintained before bringing his cup to his lips again.

"Anything else?" the younger one went on.

"Nope."

A sigh followed, but much to the blonde’s surprise, it sounded like a sigh of relief.

"I fucking knew it," his friend let out.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but look straight at him with a deep frown now creasing his forehead.

"Can you stop with that? What the hell does that even mean?" he snapped as he took in the victorious smile that graced the other’s face.

"You like him too," Taemin sing-songed like an elementary school kid.

"How did you pick that up from me saying he’s nice?"

"I know you too well, Hyung," the other stated. "If you hadn’t enjoyed his company, the first thing that would’ve come out of your mouth would’ve been something negative."

Jonghyun’s mouth dropped open before he shut it tight, his eyes then narrowing into a hateful stare.

The only effect that had was to make the brunette burst out laughing in his characteristic hiccupy laugh, almost spilling some of his coffee over in the process.

"Am I wrong?" he managed to say through his fit.

Jonghyun wished a simple yes could’ve settled the whole matter, but he also knew how bad he was at lying and how pointless it was at this point. That didn’t mean he had to outright admit though.

His stubborn silence had the other getting right back at it.

"I know you won’t just admit to it, but still, I’m happy things went well between you two," he said, voice sincere.

"Also," he added. "I’ve already made the transfer to your account," he casually informed before taking a sip.

That instantly pulled the blonde out of his muteness.

"Tae… I can’t, " he uttered, uncomfortable.

"We already discussed this…"

"Yeah, I know, but… it feels wrong."

The guilt which sprung up through his chest made his head fall forward, his gaze landing straight on his bare thighs.

"It’s really not a big deal," Taemin dismissed. "Anyway, it’s not like I’ll be paying you every time or something."

"Every time?" Jonghyun promptly reacted as he straightened up again. "What do you think this is?"

A sly smile stretched across the brunette’s lips. "Oh, I don’t know. You tell me."

Jonghyun gave him a bewildered look. "You’re not making any damn sense."

"I don’t need to, as long as I get what I mean that’s enough," the younger one indicated with a shrug.

"In any case," he continued as he put down his cup on the small coffee table before them. "Jinki said he’d be texting you later today, just so you know."

The blonde felt goosebumps prickle his skin.

"I’m sure you have nothing to do with that," he scoffed, partly to divert himself from his body’s betrayal.

The brunette chuckled. "I actually didn’t have to say much." A mischievous smile played on his lips. "One thing you have to know about Jinki is that when he wants something, he is very stubborn about getting it."

Upon hearing those words, Jonghyun’s first impulse was to scream, but he miraculously managed to keep it together despite the shiver that ran through him.

"Why does that remind me of someone?" he said as naturally as he could.

Taemin laughed. "Oh, I don’t know. "

He then pushed himself back up on his two feet. "I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your morning, Hyung. I gotta meet up with Jongin to practice."

Jonghyun frowned at him. "Again?"

"Well, yeah. We have a choreo to present in contemp’ class this Friday," he quickly defended.

Jonghyun gave him an unimpressed look before deciding that now wasn’t the time to force the issue.

"Yeah, okay, have fun."

He felt the other’s lingering gaze on him as he drank more coffee, but deliberately ignored it. A second later, he heard him mutter something under his breath, but didn’t make any move to show that he cared.

As expected, his demeanour prompted the brunette to leave his dorm without another word, but surprisingly, his door wasn’t slammed shut on his way out.

Jonghyun let out a long sigh as he looked around his living space.

All for a peaceful morning…

***

If Jonghyun had hoped that things would settle, he was once again gravely mistaken. He couldn’t even fault anyone other than himself this time. The inner turmoil he had been experiencing lately wasn’t anything less than strange.

Jonghyun wasn’t one to run after people or be particularly needy. Life had shown him that his best support system was himself and he had chosen to live his life in alignment with that lesson. The friends he had now had been made through a fortunate chain of circumstances that he was very grateful for, but in the back of his mind, he never felt like these relationships could persist over the long haul. He had always believed that he would end up going through life alone. The thought wasn’t even a dark assessment of his life; it just felt like the natural course of things.

That’s why the moment he found himself feeling something that could be categorized as neediness, he felt unsettled. Did he enjoy having company? Yes. Sometimes. Did he miss his friends when they didn’t get to hang out in a while? Yes. Sometimes. Did he ever feel like there was a void if he didn’t get to see other people? No. Not really.

So again, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he was feeling like an abandoned pup right now. It had been five days since Jinki should’ve supposedly texted him and he still hadn’t gotten any news. At first, he had chalked that up to the fact that Taemin had probably mislead him to mess with his head a bit, but by day three, he genuinely started to feel worried and insecure. What if Jinki had just been polite and hadn’t really enjoyed his company?

By now, he had probably had that thought a million times and every time, it felt like a soft stab to his chest. The day before, he had even thought of getting some information through Taemin, but at the last minute, he had buried his words down his throat, still determined on saving face. It was a good thing for his ego, but not so much for his current emotional balance. His eyes had now been glued to his phone for the last ten minutes, distracting him from the composition he had been trying to work on for the past few days. Something he cared about so much was now falling by the wayside because of irrational impulses.

The vibrant blue sky that had graced the day was now morphing into darker shades and soon enough, another day would’ve passed without him getting any kind of relief from his inexplicable predicament. He felt screwed in so many ways, apart from the way he was probably needy for. Jonghyun didn’t do emotional connection, but he did find himself in dire need of physical touch a lot of times. He wasn’t very vocal about it, but it was still very present nonetheless. Popping in some porn and jerking off to it before bed usually did the trick, but even that hadn’t been effective in the past few days.

He had jerked off, but his fuel hadn’t been some mindless porn plot. It had been something very real, but also very foreign. What was becoming clear in his mind was that if things kept up in the way they had, he’d probably have to call up Taemin again. And he certainly didn’t want to have to resort to that.

God… what is wrong with me?

He threw his phone on the empty cushion beside him before picking it right back up two seconds later.

Nothing new.

He groaned loudly at his own pathetic behaviour as his hand clenched tightly around the small device.

Damn you, Tae.

Jonghyun had been perfectly fine with the balance he had before. Was he working himself too hard? Probably. But he was staying focused and disciplined. Now those words felt like a joke to him.

His eyes shut as he took a few deep breaths to settle himself a bit. The exercise was enough to create some much needed mind space. Space that was soon filled with the only solution that could calm his nerves and turmoil.

Call him.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but after another five minutes of internal debate, he stopped fighting.

The loop of rings that reverberated against his eardrum brought his heart rate to a frighteningly high speed and for a moment there, he thought he wouldn’t make it, but the voice suddenly cutting through monopolized his focus.

"Jonghyun?"

The one in question swallowed, simultaneously realizing how dry his throat had become.

"Hello?"

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about hanging up right this instant, but something stronger than his fear prevented him from doing just that.

"Yes, it’s me."

Jonghyun heard his smile on the other end.

"Was just making sure," Jinki replied. "How are you?"

I’m just about to lose my fucking mind, but I’m good and you?

"I’m fine… I was just… doing some stuff for school," he voiced, feeling awkward.

"And you?"

"Well, first, I’m glad you’re fine," the other said. "Secondly, I could give you my ready-to-go answer or a real answer. Which one do you feel up for?"

"The real one, of course," Jonghyun immediately answered.

"Well…" A sigh followed. "I’ve been swamped with this new case and it’s really not given me any time to breathe. At first, I thought it could just be solved with an easy settlement, but now it’s just a complicated mess..." A longer sigh left him this time.

Guilt weighed on the blonde’s chest at that. He had been so wrapped up in his selfish needs that he hadn’t thought for a minute that the other might’ve had a good excuse for not calling back.

"I’m so sorry you’ve been overwhelmed by that," he offered.

"It’s fine, really," the other immediately said in return. "I’ve been through this type of madness so many times before." He then laughed.

"Still, I hope your workload will lighten up soon."

"I hope so too."

The inevitable awkward silence crept in in that moment, leaving Jonghyun in the face of his pitiful previous behavior.

"I didn’t want to bother you," he started, shameful. "I just…"

Nothing seemed justifiable enough to explain himself.

"Don’t worry about it," Jinki reassured. "I’m glad you called actually. I’ve been feeling guilty about not calling you back like I’d promised."

"But I was going to…" he immediately added. "I just wanted to have more time…"

"I get it," Jonghyun acknowledged, his shoulders relaxing from the relief of not having been forgotten.

"I’m glad you do and I’m sorry," the other said.

"Don’t worry about it,"Jonghyun reassured.

"No, but really, it’s not okay," Jinki went on. "I should’ve taken a few minutes to call you."

"What can I do to make this right again?" he then asked.

Jonghyun felt himself get warm all over. Why is he being like this?

A bunch of ideas popped up in response to his question, but ultimately, they all came down to one thing.

"I’d just like to see you, to be honest."

These words had probably not seen the light more than five times throughout his whole life, but in this moment, it felt like there was no better way to express what he wanted.

"Ah, well," a brief pause ensued, "I can definitely do something about that."

His voice felt like a soft caress against Jonghyun’s ear and he had to bite his lip to prevent any inappropriate sound from leaving him.

"Actually…" the brunette continued. "I’ve been thinking about having ice cream all day and I could definitely use a break right now."

Jonghyun frowned, not sure he was following. "You mean…"

"I mean let’s go eat some ice cream together," the older one reiterated in a cheerful tone.

"Unless, you don’t like ice cream, which would be totally fine too," he immediately added.

"No, no, I like ice cream," Jonghyun confirmed with a bit too much enthusiasm. He noticed immediately, making a mental note to himself to reel it in.

"But what happened with not stress eating?" he couldn’t help but ask, his teasing nature never too far behind.

The brunette snorted. "Pardon my language, but fuck that."

Jonghyun’s eyes widened as a familiar pang hit his stomach.

If he curses again, I’m fucked.

"Amen to that," he played along with a small laugh.

Jinki joined in before speaking again. "In what area do you live?"

"I live on campus," Jonghyun answered.

"Oh," the other exclaimed in surprise. "It’s actually not too far from where I work… maybe fifteen minutes or so," he informed.

Jonghyun found himself feeling a bit too happy about that fact and had to make another mental note to himself to calm the fuck down.

"I’ll just check real quick if there is an ice-cream parlor not far from there," Jinki indicated before falling into silence.

Jonghyun quietly waited, just now noticing the queasy feeling in his stomach that came around whenever he was nervous or uneasy.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to sit with it long.

"Okay, there is one at about a ten-minute walking distance from the campus," Jinki reprised. "Is that okay for you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, so I’ll text you the address," the older one settled.

"Good."

"I should be there in half an hour."

"Great."

"Okay, so see you soon," Jinki concluded with a smile that didn’t fail to translate at the other end.

"See you soon," Jonghyun reciprocated, a bit more subdued.

As soon as the line cut off, he flopped onto the couch, already overwhelmed by that bit of interaction.

He closed his eyes for a while, just trying to recover. After what seemed like an eternity, he reopened them and finally made a move to get ready. He didn’t have too much time, so he went straight to his room to get changed. He took off his hoodie, his cap and sweatpants and looked through his rack of clothes to pick out something more appropriate for the circumstances.

Jonghyun always chose comfort over style, but he still felt the pressure of making a good impression on the other. He knew there was no need to go all out like last time, but he could definitely put in more effort than he usually would.

As he looked through his items of clothing again and again, he couldn’t help but wish Kibum was there to help him out. Unfortunately, they still weren’t on speaking terms if the looks of hatred he had received from the other in the hallways were any indication. Jonghyun definitely had the luck of befriending the most stubborn people in the world.

After a few more minutes, he finally settled on a loose-fitting grey shirt and dark jeans that were ripped at the knees. He wasn’t sure it was the best choice, but in the end, that’s all he could agree with himself to wear. He completed the look with his black Timbs, thinking to himself that it was the perfect compromise between his worn-out Converses and his classier shoes. Lastly, he ran a hand a few times through his hair, managing to tame some unruly strands that stuck up.

He couldn’t help but linger a bit too long in front of the mirror before realizing he really had to go. He slipped his wallet into one of his back pockets and travelled back to the living room where he picked up his phone again to look at the directions. Not long after, he was out the door. The evening breeze met him a few minutes later, instantly showing him that the warmth they had experienced during the day had now completely disappeared. He had the mind to go back up to get a light jacket, but his fear of being late trumped the need for warmth.

His walk was fast-paced bordering on frantic, so what was supposed to take him ten minutes took him six, leaving him surprised when he found himself standing right in front of the parlor. He took a quick look around to see if Jinki was anywhere in sight, but he didn’t see him. Clearly, he was early, but he did hope the other would arrive soon before his nerves took over completely.

By the time the other finally appeared in his line of vision, he had had the time to envision every possible catastrophe that could occur during their time together. He wanted to be relaxed and enjoy this time, but he felt like he was off to an awful start.

"Am I late?" Jinki asked once he had reached him.

"No, no, I just arrived a little early," Jonghyun reassured before his eyes went on to feast on the sight before him.

The taller one was wearing a marine blue suit that did wonders to his silhouette and his dark bangs covered his forehead this time, giving him a softer, but equally enticing look. But that wasn’t even what had him reeling. It was the fact that the white dress shirt that peaked out underneath wasn’t buttoned all the way up.

He had to wonder if it had been that way all day.

An airy laugh pulled him out of his musings.

"It’s probably not the best outfit to wear to eat ice cream," Jinki noted as their eyes met.

Jonghyun felt his face heat up as he realized he had been caught staring.

"It-it should be fine," he stuttered as he rushed to reply.

But I won’t be, his mind threw at him immediately.

Jinki laughed softly. "I’ve probably lost a few good suits to food by now. One more won’t make a difference."

Jonghyun silently disagreed. No, no, this suit needs to stay.

"The trick is to ask for a cup, not a cone," he advised. "It’s less messy."

A slight pout graced the other’s lips, which didn’t fail to make the blonde’s heart flip.

"Cones are more fun though."

Jonghyun acknowledged that with a nod, not trusting himself to speak right this instant.

"Shall we go in?" Jinki prompted with a lopsided smile.

Jonghyun nodded again and a second later, he was following the taller one towards the entrance. As they stepped in, a small bell attached to the door tinkled above their heads, announcing their arrival to whoever owned the shop. For a few seconds, Jonghyun felt blinded by the bright neon lights, reacting to them with a frown and a wrinkling of his nose, but soon enough, the arrival of a middle-aged woman behind the counter brought his focus elsewhere. The woman greeted them with a pleasant smile and a warm welcome, which they immediately reciprocated.

As they walked over to the display cabinet, Jonghyun noticed the only two other people that were in the shop. It wasn’t hard to see that they were a couple. Their eyes were bound in a loving stare and they were holding each other’s hands, the only thing between them being a melting mountain of sundae.

Usually, he would’ve rolled his eyes at such a sight, but this time, he couldn’t. His stomach tightened and he quickly looked away. He didn’t need to look far for a distraction as his eyes fell on a dozen of colorful tubs of ice cream. Jonghyun still didn’t like that the place was so bright, but he could agree that it was probably the best way to make the products look even more appetizing. He knew that, because despite always sticking to his personal favorite, he now found himself staring at the fruit-flavored ice cream and even at the mint-chocolate chip one, which he had always clowned Taemin for loving.

"What are you getting?" Jinki softly inquired as his gaze stayed fixed on the merchandise.

"I usually always go for Rocky Road, but I’m kinda hesitating right now," Jonghyun admitted. "You?"

"I’m in the same predicament as you are. I always go for Vanilla, but damn… everything looks so good."

The blonde’s eyes tore away from the ice-cream to give the other a judging look.

"Vanilla? Really?" he expressed with barely contained disdain.

Jinki met his scowl with a confused expression on his face. "Well yeah… I like the classics."

"You can’t use that to justify eating Vanilla ice cream," the younger one threw back.

The brunette chuckled at that. "Seems like this is a pretty serious issue for you."

"I mean come on, Vanilla’s just sad," Jonghyun blurted before his mind could catch up.

"And I think Rocky Road’s pretty unsophisticated, but I’m not going to stop you from enjoying it."

The quick jab stunned the blonde momentarily, leaving his expression stuck between surprise and indignation.

A laugh left the other. "What? You can dish it, but you can’t take it?"

Jonghyun’s eyes grew even wider as a result, taken aback by the quick repartee.

So you can be cheeky, huh?

Jinki laughed again. "How about we both choose something different tonight?" he suggested as he looked once more at what was before them.

That effectively snapped the younger one out of his shock. "Mm, sounds good," he agreed.

After a few more minutes of going back and forth between choices, they finally settled and soon after, they were sitting face to face at a table in the back.

"How’s yours?" the taller one asked as he watched Jonghyun have a first taste.

"It’s pretty good actually," the latter said as he nodded at the soft green scoops in his cup.

"I like Pistachio too," Jinki acknowledged before tasting his own.

Jonghyun just stared as the brunette licked off a few layers of ice cream. The hum of pleasure that ensued almost took him out.

"Wow, that’s great," the brunette then let out, impressed. "I guess I can alternate between vanilla and raspberry now, huh?"

Jonghyun couldn’t help but laugh which effectively pulled him out of his trance. "Yeah, it’s good to live dangerously once in a while."

"I guess you’ll have to teach me."

For whatever reason, that made him shiver.

"Ah well… I’m pretty tame, actually," he indicated sheepishly.

"Is that so?" Jinki questioned, gazing straight at him.

Jonghyun wasn’t one to shy away from a look, but the power in those dark orbs was too much for him to handle.

"I think so…" he said as he looked down to his cup again.

That made the other laugh. "That doesn’t sound too convincing."

"Well…" Jonghyun pondered. "It really depends on what you consider dangerous."

His eyes flicked upwards to meet the brunette’s eyes again.

The latter smiled an amused smile. "I’m not much of a risk-taker as you might’ve gathered already, so my definition is probably broader than most people."

Jonghyun’s gaze narrowed with interest. "Even so, you must’ve done something risky once in your life."

JInki’s head lolled from side to side as he mulled over the thought. "I wouldn’t say risky. I just had a rebel phase during my teens like everyone else, but it wasn’t anything special. I just stayed out way past curfew a few times and drank my problems away a little too many times."

The blonde gave a satisfied nod. "That counts."

Jinki scrunched up his nose at that. "No need to give me participation points."

That made Jonghyun burst out laughing and he instinctively brought a hand up to cover his mouth.

"I’m not!" he refuted.

The brunette clicked his tongue before diving once again in his now melting raspberry delight. The ice cream was sliding past his cone and onto his fingers, but he didn’t seem to care.

And Jonghyun certainly didn’t mind either.

"That was pretty much how wild my teens were to be honest," he went on, more so to distract himself from the view before him. "Now that I’m in college, I really don’t have time to be messy or anything."

That made Jinki freeze, leaving his ice cream alone for a moment. "Why don’t I believe you?" he then said with a slight frown.

Jonghyun could feel his face heat up, but he tried to ignore it by going for a shrug.

"I don’t know," he just said.

The brunette squinted at him before his lips slowly stretched into a cryptic smile.

Jonghyun waited for him to voice his thought, but he didn’t, instead moving his focus back on his treat. He had to follow suit as his own ice cream was starting to puddle in its container.

It was another few minutes before Jonghyun was faced with an empty cup and Jinki chewed his way to the last bit of his cone. Not many words had been exchanged between them in the meantime, but Jonghyun couldn’t have found it in him to speak. Not when one of Jinki’s legs suddenly moved to brush against his in a manner that couldn’t be chalked up to coincidence. He had dared to glance at the taller one to get further reassurance, but his face hadn’t given anything away. The brunette had just given him one of his radiant smiles that did nothing to help.

And now that they were done eating and Jinki was wiping his fingers clean with a napkin, Jonghyun had to wonder what was going to happen next.

"I’m just going to stop by the washroom real quick, I’ll be right back," Jinki said, cutting through his musings.

Jonghyun just nodded and watched him walk away, not failing to catch how good his ass looked in his form-fitting pants. Once he disappeared, he let out a deep breath he had apparently been holding longer than necessary before he went back to reviewing his options.

He clearly didn’t want this moment to end, but he also didn’t know where they stood right now. Clearly, Jinki was sending him a message, but he wasn’t confident about his interpretation of it. The slightest touch could mean so much more to him than what it really was. If it weren’t anything serious, he would risk it, but the present circumstance just didn’t feel like any other time.

It felt different. And Jonghyun didn’t know how to handle it.

He spent the remainder of his time alone trying to figure out what he could say or what he could do, but he wasn’t able to come up with a clear plan before the other stepped out of the washroom.

His panicked state must’ve read clearly on his face, because the first thing that came out of the taller one’s mouth as he settled before him once more was, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, totally," Jonghyun lied as he tried to play it cool.

Jinki chuckled. "Good, because I’d like to bring you somewhere."

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed at that. "Somewhere?"

"Yeah," the brunette simply said, smiling. "I don’t want to tell you more, but I’d like for you to say yes."

Was Jonghyun the type to follow someone he barely knew to a location he had no information about?

"Yes," he immediately answered, his heart rate picking up simultaneously.

Apparently, he was.

It wasn’t long before they were back outside, being greeted this time by a pitch-dark sky under which the streetlamps shone with a stark brightness. Their surroundings were pretty much void of any other human life making their walk to the car a peaceful and intimate moment.

Jonghyun was mindlessly walking besides the taller one, deciding that his fate pretty much wasn’t in his hands anymore. He was deliberately taking his hands off the wheel and letting the other take full control. That was something he hadn’t done in a while and the retrieval of that carelessness definitely felt invigorating. But he was doing his best to stay calm and keep his energy under control. Otherwise, he was scared he might blow his chance.

They finally came to a halt after walking down the street for a few minutes, stopping in front of a majestic Rolls-Royce. Jonghyun’s eyes widened at its sheen and pristine look, his mind quickly kicking in to remind him of their difference in status.

His ears caught the other’s laugh, but he was still stunned.

"I made the same face when I first saw it," the brunette shared. "Only to realize with time that it wasn’t that different from any other car."

Jonghyun’s gaze shifted to him, brow cocked. "I’d be really curious to know what you have in mind when you say any other car."

Jinki laughed again. "You probably have a point here. Nonetheless, a car is a car."

Following that, he unlocked the doors and made his way to the driver’s side, leaving Jonghyun to settle into the passenger’s seat.

The blonde let himself slide slowly onto the leather seat, every creak of the material under his weight making him hypervigilant of his every movement.

The brunette’s amused smile let him know that he was probably overdoing it, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was about to fuck something up.

The soft rumble of the car’s engine calmed him a bit as the other’s hands settled on the wheel. It wasn’t long before the vehicle was hitting the road, prompting once again a warning thought in Jonghyun’s mind as to the potential danger that lay in this venture.

He quickly pushed it away and focused his gaze ahead, looking at the buildings and greenery with a blank interest. The way the surroundings were drawing themselves with each passing intersection felt familiar for the first fifteen minutes of the ride, but soon after, the scenery changed.

There were no more buildings to be seen, leaving in their stead open fields stretching on either side of the road. Jonghyun suddenly felt compelled to ask about their whereabouts, but they hadn’t exchanged a word since the beginning of the ride. Now, the silence was a third party that just couldn’t be thrown out the window.

So Jonghyun held his peace, his hands meeting for a fidgeting dance every few minutes as his sharp teeth gnawed at his bottom lip in a pulsing fashion. He didn’t mean to be nervous or suspicious, but if anything, his survival instinct still had a seat at the table.

It was another ten minutes of the same before they left the fields behind to meet with a viaduct that passed over dark depths of water. Only when they reached the end of it, where concrete met land again, did the car slow down before coming to a stop.

That did nothing to help with the blonde’s nerves, but he chose to stay faithful to silence just a bit longer. The other’s soft breathing reached his ear again as the engine fell asleep. Jonghyun dared give a look his way, immediately meeting his eyes in the process.

The brunette smiled as if it were the most natural thing in the world and that was enough to make his shoulders relax a bit.

"I’m sorry if you were expecting something more glamorous," the other uttered somewhat apologetically.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but snort. "I wasn’t, but you do have some explaining to do."

Jinki laughed at that. "Of course, but let’s step out first."

He followed that up with the retrieval of his car keys and the unbuckling of his seatbelt before opening the door and sliding out of his seat. Jonghyun stayed still for a few seconds, still uneasy, before he finally pushed himself to follow him out, the sound of the car doors slamming shut following each other at a second of interval.

It wasn’t long before Jinki was before him, a coy smile now dancing on his lips.

"So, " he started, hands settling deep into his pants’ pockets. "What do you think of this place?"

Jonghyun cocked a brow, perplexed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, it’s…"

Creepy.

"It’s…" he tried again as his eyes took in the scenery once more.

"Spacious."

The brunette chuckled. "You’re nice for not saying what’s on your mind."

Jonghyun blinked at him as a sudden warmth spread across his face.

"I know it’s not quite paradise on earth, but for me, it’s… a peaceful place," Jinki shared as he moved his gaze to the river that rhythmically danced a few meters from them.

His eyes went back to him again before he added, "I just wanted to share that with you."

Jonghyun’s heart flipped inside his chest right on cue, making it possible for him not to bite his lip.

"How often do you come here?" he asked to move the conversation into more comfortable territory.

"Whenever I need to clear my mind," Jinki informed. "Which can be one or a few times per week, to be honest," he added before smiling again.

But Jonghyun could see sadness in his smile and that was enough to make his heart ache.

"How did you find this place?" he instinctively asked.

"I was trying to escape," Jinki admitted as he leaned back against the side of the car.

A deep crease grew between the blonde’s eyebrows. "Escape from what?"

A soft sigh crossed the taller one’s lips. "From my parents."

"Why? What happened?"

"It was a few years ago…" the brunette prefaced as his gaze fell towards the ground. "I went to theirs for what I thought was just a dinner, but it turned out that they had invited this girl over to introduce us…"

Jonghyun didn’t miss the clench that punctuated the other’s jaw as he fell silent. The memory was clearly painful, making him regret he had asked any further questions.

"We don’t have to talk about this, Jinki," he voiced as his eyes settled with worry on his dark expression.

The shift was instant. The other’s face relaxed and he looked back up, a hand reaching behind his neck to rub it as he smiled again, embarrassed.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get all serious like that," he said.

Jonghyun’s chest tightened. He was aching to give him a hug, to bring him some peace, but he wasn’t sure he could just now.

So, he went for the next best option.

"It’s okay," he reassured as he settled right beside him against the car. He immediately became hyperaware of the closeness between them, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he managed to say as his eyes flicked up to reach the other’s.

He was answered with an intent look that menaced to make him burst into a million pieces.

"Can I be honest with you?" the taller one asked as his body shifted to look straight at him.

Jonghyun’s eyes widened as he took in the little space that was left between their faces, but despite his internal meltdown, he found himself able to nod.

"I really like you."

Jonghyun’s body faltered at that, his chest collapsing under a sharp stab that made him whimper against his will.

"Come again?" the older one teased with a cheeky smile.

A bright blush colored his cheeks, making him want to dig himself into a deep hole right that instant.

"That’s not fair," he grumbled with a small pout. "You can’t just spring stuff like that on people."

"So, you would’ve have preferred I hadn’t said anything?" Jinki said, amused.

Jonghyun retaliated with a punch to his arm, making the taller one burst into laughter.

"Yah, this isn’t funny. That should’ve hurt," he fussed, crossing his arms over his chest in protest.

"How can I not laugh when you’re acting this way?" the brunette pointed out.

"Are you making fun of me?" the blonde threw back.

"Not at all, I just think you’re cute," the other swiftly replied.

Another stab. Followed by a shiver. Jonghyun was pretty sure now that he wouldn’t survive this night.

"Yah, you’re pretty smooth for someone who hasn’t been on the dating scene," he observed, frustrated.

"If my honesty comes off that way, I’ll take that as a compliment," Jinki said with a light shrug.

"But I’m starting to get worried you don’t feel the same way, you’ve just been stalling this whole time…" he remarked with a pout of his own.

Apart from being subjected to one of the cutest sights he had ever seen in his life, Jonghyun also had to deal with his own mind and heart racing like there was no tomorrow.

"I really like you too," he said before he wouldn’t be able to anymore.

"Thank god," Jinki let out as he smiled in utter relief.

Jonghyun frowned. "Are you really surprised? Cause if there’s something I’m not good at it’s being subtle."

The brunette chuckled at that. "I mean, I had my doubts…but it’s always nice to get some type of confirmation."

"I mean it’s really not in my MO to call first," Jonghyun indicated.

That instantly piqued Jinki’s curiosity. "What’s your usual MO then?"

Jonghyun couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at that. "Well, I mean…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I’m usually the casual encounter type of guy."

"Aah," the other acknowledged with a small laugh before saying, "So, I’m probably going too slow for you, huh? "

The blonde’s eyes widened at that. "No, no, not at all," he uttered in panic. "Like I said, it’s not the same, I-"

A gasp left his mouth as warm hands settled on his hips and pulled him closer. His eyelashes quivered slightly as he then felt them move to the small of his back, holding him tightly in place.

By the way Jinki was looking at him, he knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted so much more right now, but he was still wary of not losing himself just yet.

"Can I kiss you?" the brunette asked against him as his lips inched closer to his, their breaths meeting first before anything else could follow.

Jonghyun was left unable to do anything else other than nod, the warmth emanating from the other’s body almost making him dizzy. Jonghyun was used to encountering hot people, but this man right here was a different kind of hot.

And he got even more confirmation of that as the taller one’s lips captured his with an urge that made his heart thump loudly inside his chest and his eyes flutter closed.

He let himself be kissed without restraint, melting under the feeling of the other’s soft lips claiming his before moaning as he felt his tongue find his with an ease that felt almost too good. The sweet tang of the ice cream flavor he got a taste of only added to his hunger. Instinctively, he brought his arms up around the taller one’s neck, pulling him a bit further down to squeeze him closer, to feel him deeper.

Catching the low groan that elicited from him, Jonghyun returned the kiss more fiercely, wanting to see how close to the edge they could push themselves. They kissed without pause until the limit drew itself at the lack of air in their lungs.

Jinki pulled back first, drawing with his retreat a whine of complaint from the blonde.

The latter quickly resolved his need for more by lolling his head a bit to kiss the brunette’s neck, relishing the shiver that accompanied his ministrations.

"Fuck, Jonghyun…" Jinki breathed against him, fingers digging into his hips again as he tried his hardest not to buck his own forward.

Jonghyun’s lips travelled up to his jaw, giving it a small poignant bite before he pulled back a bit to meet the taller one’s eyes again. The latter’s face was tense, and his eyes had that sheen of desire he was sure could be read in his own.

"Did you also bring me here to fuck, Jinki?" he dared as one of his hands slowly travelled down the other’s covered chest, relishing the softness of the material under his palm.

The brunette’s gaze narrowed just a bit more, focusing on the subtle blush that graced the younger one’s cheeks with a hunger he hadn’t felt in a really long time. If he were to only listen to his dick’s brain, he probably would fuck him right here and then.

And Jonghyun was making it incredibly hard to resist as his hand finally reached his belt and tugged on it with a provocative playfulness.

"So, am I right?"

Jinki’s eyes darted downwards, looking at how close the blonde’s small hand was to his crotch and thinking about how much he wanted it on it. Images of being brought to completion flashed in his mind and he had to bite down hard on his lip not to moan.

Out of precaution for his sanity, he grabbed the other’s hand and moved it away from him.

"Do I look like the kind of guy that would bring you to such a secluded place to fuck?"

Jonghyun shrugged. "I don’t know, you tell me," he said in a tone that had accents of challenge.

"Well, if you must know, my MO’s pretty much the opposite of yours," Jinki informed before chuckling a bit at the frown that drew itself on the smaller one’s pretty features.

"What does that mean?"

Jinki’s laughter died right that moment, unnerving Jonghyun deeply. He didn’t have much time to linger on it though as the brunette’s face came close to his again. Just when he thought he would be granted with the gift of another kiss, the other moved his head slightly, bringing his lips to his ear.

"It means that I like to wait," he whispered before pulling back again.

Jonghyun’s eyes had closed at the sound of his voice, lingering on the undertones of it for a few more seconds before he opened them again. His spine was still tingling from the shiver that had just run through it, leaving him in a heightened state of sensitivity.

He couldn’t help but want to be close to him, to feel more of him, but most of all, he didn’t want to force anything. Despite the way the other had chosen to get his point across, Jonghyun could still feel he was pretty serious about it. Jinki didn’t seem like the type of guy to play around with his words.

"Waiting it is then," Jonghyun acknowledged not without a tinge of disappointment pinching at his heart.

Jinki seemed to pick up on that, because a second later, he was laughing. "Don’t worry, I don’t mean waiting until marriage," he reassured. "I just want to get to know you better first."

Jonghyun felt his heart flutter. "Sure," he simply said as he tried to remain calm.

The brunette smiled softly. "I probably should bring you back home now," he indicated as his gaze travelled around them.

The blonde did the same, only then realizing how dark their surroundings had become.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed.

A few seconds later, they were back in the car, fastening their seatbelts, before Jinki had the engine running again.

The ride back seemed to pass by a lot quicker even though they fell into the same shared silence as before.

As they crossed into familiar territory again, Jonghyun started bracing himself for the moment when they’d have to say goodbye. His neediness for the other still felt incredibly odd, but he just couldn’t help it.

The thought of asking him to come up to his dorm crossed his mind, but when the car finally stopped in front of his building, he felt stupid for it. He could wait a little more.

"I’m really happy we got to spend the evening together, Jonghyun," Jinki said as he smiled at him once more.

"Me, too," Jonghyun echoed as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Thank you for bringing me back home."

"It’s the least I could do after bringing you out to nowhere," the other replied, laughing.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but join in. "I suppose. " He then looked down to his hands, thinking. "Since you showed me something significant for you tonight, maybe next time, I could do the same?" he proposed, a little nervous.

A slight push of the other’s hand under his chin had him looking right into his eyes again.

"I didn’t do that to put pressure on you. We can just go with the flow, really," Jinki said before bringing the same hand up to his cheek to give it a soft caress.

Jonghyun’s eyes closed again, trying to grasp every delineation of his touch. "Okay," he gently uttered under his breath.

Once he let himself meet his eyes again, he couldn’t help but want just a little more.

"Can I get a goodnight kiss?" he asked, somewhat embarrassed.

Jinki nodded before inching closer to him. Jonghyun sighed as their lips met in a soft, slow kiss, his heart rate picking up greatly from the feel of it.

It almost felt like a tragedy when the other pulled back to create a small window of space between them.

"I’ll call you soon, for real this time," Jinki promised before leaving a quick peck on his lips.

Jonghyun nodded in turn and waited for the other to settle back comfortably into his seat before finally making a move to step out.

It was only when he was up and standing on the sidewalk after watching the other drive away that he realized how much he was already addicted to this man.

And that was definitely a problem.

36 notes · View notes

mayquita · 4 years ago

Text

Damn You For Making Me Love You (12/15) - Memories

Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 7800 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Ao3 / FFnet

About this chapter: Christmas is coming... That means a perfect setting to face the consequences of their first (second) kiss.

Chapter 11: Memories

Killian - December 2019

What do you think if we include a current hit in the poll to choose our song for the duet next Saturday? - ES

Emma's message was the first thing Killian saw when he woke up that Sunday morning. He was laying in bed, his mind still dragging from the vestiges of sleep, so he had to read the contents of the text a couple of times until he was able to understand its meaning. Or rather, understand the only thing that mattered to him at that moment. Emma was still planning to sing with him next Saturday.

He was tempted to send a reply including that topic, but in the end, he opted for a less risky approach.

Hi, love. I see no problem with it. I guess you've already thought about a specific song - KJ

Yeah, what do you think about Memories? - ES

After reading the message, he sat up abruptly, dropping the phone in the process. Bloody hell... Memories? Seriously? What the hell was Emma playing at? Was it a way to mess with him? Or her way of telling him that she also remembered? Or was it just a damn coincidence?

A deep breath escaped between his lips as he grabbed the phone again, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed, his fingers sliding across the screen while he debated whether to call her directly and question her or, on the contrary, continue getting the lay of the land. He was about to press the call button, he really was, but in the end, he decided on a simple message. He was nothing but a coward, after all, afraid of what Emma would tell him.

Memories? The one by Maroon 5? - KJ

Yeah, I think it could work since that weekend will be the last of the year. It has a certain festive spirit, with those toast references. - ES

Aye, you got a point, but what do you think if we discuss it later at the bar? We can meet there a little earlier to talk. - KJ

Killian held his breath as he watched as the dots on the screen appeared and disappeared intermittently as if she couldn't decide what to type as a reply. When her new message finally arrived, he couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment.

That won't be possible. I've already talked to Liam about that. I've got an issue to deal together with Elsa so I will arrive later today. - ES

She was lying, which only increased Killian's confusion. Still, he was now sure that the use of that particular song had been deliberate, although he hadn't yet caught the real reason. He had no choice but to continue playing along and see where all this mess was going.

Okay then. I have no problem including Memories in the poll. - KJ

Great. I'm sending you the rest of the candidate songs and as soon as you give me the approval I will upload it to the website. - ES

You don't need to send them to me, Swan. I trust your ability to choose. I will take a look at the website later. And maybe I’ll even vote ;) - KJ

The conversation looked too professional, even distant, so he made an attempt to approach Emma as her friend instead of her coworker, hence the inclusion of the emoji. It was a poor attempt, he was aware of it, but his brain seemed not to be working properly after their kiss and the remembrance of their weekend in Storybrooke. Emma didn't seem to take the bait, though.

Okay. See you later. - ES

After that last cold message, he had to suppress the urge to throw the phone against the wall, a pull of frustration firmly settled in the pit of his stomach. To make matters worse, the bloody lyrics of the song had found their way in his head and he now felt unable to get rid of those verses. A humorless laugh escaped between his lips when he realized the irony of the song.

Here's to the ones that we got Cheers to the wish you were here, but you're not 'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories Of everything we've been through

In their case, the drinks worked in the opposite way. Instead of bringing back the memories, the alcohol had taken them away. Killian shook his head as he tried to focus his thoughts on something else, anything that didn't remind him of Emma and the taste of her lips on his.

Emma had definitely chosen the bloody song on purpose.

He was sure about that when he entered the website and saw the poll consisted of that song and its rivals, three insubstantial and little known songs. In fact, the poll had only been up for an hour and several people had already voted, with Memories being the one ahead by a wide margin. He didn't know whether to get excited about the prospect of singing that song with her or, on the contrary, feel annoyed because it seemed that Emma was trying to communicate with him in a language he couldn't decipher.

Hopefully, he would find a moment in the following days to talk to her.

Emma was avoiding him.

Killian had not only not found the opportunity to talk to her privately but he had barely seen her in the past few days.

On Sunday, she arrived quite late at The Kraken and remained busy throughout the evening. She hardly waited for them to close the bar to leave, alluding that she was tired. On Monday, he didn't even see her since the bar was closed and she excused herself indicating that she was going to take advantage of the day off to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Today, Tuesday, The Kraken would remain open only a couple of hours, since it was Christmas Eve. Both he and Liam had organized a late Christmas dinner in their apartment, to which Emma was invited, of course, but he was no longer sure if she would bother to come.

He wasn't imagining things. Liam had also noticed that something strange was happening with Emma. He had even tried to question Killian about it since he suspected —and he wasn't wrong — that Killian had something to do with it. But Killian wasn't in the mood to explain their current situation, especially when he didn't even know what the hell was going through Emma's head.

Killian rubbed his hand over his face and hair, feeling the frustration creep over him. Although there were still a few hours left before they had to open the bar, he was tempted to go there to play the guitar and try to disconnect for a while and get rid of that bitter feeling that had settled inside him since last Saturday.

He needed distractions and it was clear that he wasn't going to find them in the solitude of his apartment. Not even Liam was here since he had gone to the grocery store to get everything they needed for dinner tonight and Elsa was accompanying him.

The corners of his lips rose slightly at the fact that at least one of the Jones brothers seemed to be on the right track to win the heart of his potential love interest. Not that Liam had confessed anything about it, but Killian had the feeling that his role as a matchmaker wasn't necessary at all. Still, he took a mental note to question his brother in that regard. In addition, he hoped that the Christmas spirit in the form of a sprig of mistletoe could finally push them together. His lips curled up again when his eyes drifted to the strategic spot where Liam intended to place the plant.

Just when he again valued the possibility of going to the bar, the sound of someone knocking on the door caught his attention. His eyebrows pinched together in confusion, since he wasn't expecting any visits. When the person on the other side of the door knocked again with a little more insistence, he hurried to open the door.

Whoever Killian was expecting, it certainly wasn't the person he found on the threshold. His eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat as he stood with his mouth hanging open, unable to react.

"Surprise!"

Killian blinked a couple of times and then shook his head, noting that she was still there right in front of him. That's when he finally reacted, sort of.

"Belle?"

"Well, are you going to greet me properly or are you going to remain still as if you had seen a ghost?"

A renewed energy seized him at that moment, pushing him forward, a laugh bubbling deep in his chest as he wrapped his friend in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground.

"What the hell are you doing here? We thought you couldn't make it this year!" he said, still amazed by her unexpected presence, after lowering her and loosening the hug so he could look her in the eye.

"Are you going to invite me in first, or do you prefer that we have this conversation on the threshold?" Belle replied, her lips curled into a grin, her eyes sparkling. Gods ! He had missed his friend so much.

He let out a laugh and stepped aside to let her in and then helped her take off her coat and hung it on the rack near the door while placing the travel bag she was holding in a corner of the hall.

"Does Liam know?"

"Nope." She shook her head and then she narrowed her eyes as her gaze wandered around the room. "Where is he, by the way?" Belle then turned her head in his direction, her eyes widened. "Tell me he's with Elsa."

Killian tilted his head as he frowned, giving her a skeptical look. "How the hell do you know about Liam and Elsa?"

Before answering, Belle rolled her eyes as if to imply that the answer was evident. "Isn't it obvious? Because your brother hasn't stopped talking about her lately. So there is something between those two, right? Ha! I knew it!" Belle raised a fist in triumph as her face lit up.

"Slow down, love. There's nothing official, as far as I know. For now." If Belle felt disappointed she didn't show it. On the contrary, she kept an excited expression on her face. He made a mental note of talking to Emma to inform her that they had gotten another ally. The mere thought about Emma caused his smile to weaken but he forced himself to park those thoughts for later. Belle deserved all his attention. "So tell me, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, that!" Belle paused for a moment as she bit her lower lip, a playful spark in her gaze. "Let's say we can blame Emma for my visit."

"Emma? My—" His voice trailed off as he looked away, feeling the tips of his ears begin to burn.

"Yes, your Emma." She smirked at him before continuing. "She contacted me because she wanted to give you both a surprise as a Christmas gift. And also as a way to apologize for her behavior the first time we met. I was really busy, but she insisted and insisted. She even offered to buy me the plane tickets. So I had no choice but to accept. She’s pretty persistent, that girl of yours, isn't she?"

"She's not my..." He trailed off again, uncertain about how to continue. Well, she was his everything, that's for sure, but that wasn't something he was willing to share with Belle. In response, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look: "She is quite persistent and also stubborn," he conceded and then decided to focus on Belle's other words. So if Emma had contacted her, that meant... "When did she contact you?"

"A month or so ago?" The little flame of hope faltered for a moment. Still, he tried to maintain an impassive expression. "We've been chatting these last weeks organizing the trip. The last time I talked to her was yesterday afternoon."

"Is that so?" he asked nonchalantly, trusting that his voice would not reveal his renewed level of excitement.

Belle was too perceptive, though. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him through her narrowed eyes. "Yeah, we've been in touch all this time, even this morning we've been sharing messages. She wanted to make sure everything went well."

He tried not to smile, he really tried, but his lips acted on his own, curling up. His gesture only increased the expression of suspicion on Belle's face. "Why do I have the impression that it's a big deal as to when I've talked to her? Have you gotten into a fight or something?"

"Not exactly," he admitted reluctantly. He hadn't confessed to anyone what happened with Emma, but he wondered if it would be a good idea to share it with someone as a means to lighten the burden he was carrying. Belle seemed like his best option. "She's kinda been avoiding me since Saturday."

Belle's brows furrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What have you done this time, Killian?"

"What? I haven't done anything." It was true, but Belle's expression denoted that she didn't believe him. After letting out a heavy sigh, he finally confessed. "We kissed." A huge smile blossomed on her face, but he hurried to continue. "Well, technically she started the kiss. And then she freaked out. And she's been avoiding me ever since."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

Had he tried? No, not really. Maybe because, deep down, he was afraid too. He didn't even respond, the expression on his face revealing his emotions perfectly without having to express them out loud.

Belle first rolled her eyes and shook her head, but then her features softened, her gaze searching for his as she gave him an affectionate squeeze on his arm. "You have to talk to her, Killian. Whatever is going on in her head, she still has you in her mind. She was the one who started the kiss. She was the one who contacted me because she knew that my visit would make you happy. Don't you think you should take the initiative for once? Maybe that's what she is waiting for. Maybe she needs to know that you are on the same page as her."

"Aye... I... I should talk to her."

"So, what are you waiting for? Go!"

"What? Now?" Killian wasn't entirely convinced, though he wasn't sure if what was holding him back was the uncertainty about how Emma could react, or if it was the fact of leaving Belle behind when she had just arrived. Maybe both. Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse because he was a bloody coward. "I don't think it's appropriate for me to leave you here all alone. I can talk to her later."

"Oh, come on! Stop looking for excuses, Killian," she scolded him, although the expression on her face, with an amused half-smile, never disappearing from her lips, denoted she was actually excited about his current situation. "I'm not going anywhere for the next couple of days. We'll have time to catch up. Now go!"

Her bossy tone made him finally react. He approached her and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, love. See you later." After putting on his coat he remembered something, so he turned back to her. "About the kiss and other stuff, Liam doesn't know anything and I would prefer that he stay like that for now, until I figure things out with Emma." He preferred to clear things up with Emma without having more people involved around them.

Belle seemed to catch the hint. "My lips are sealed. I like her a lot, by the way. I'm happy for you, you deserve it." She offered him a soft smile to which he responded with a matching one before slightly bowing his head in farewell and then leaving the house. He had a mission to accomplish.

All the determination Killian had felt after talking to Belle went out the window the moment he found himself in front of Emma's apartment door. He felt the palms of his hands begin to sweat as his stomach tightened into knots. But he needed to have this conversation with Emma, so, after taking a deep breath, he finally knocked on the door.

His breath caught in his throat when she opened the door quickly, barely giving him time to school his features.

"What are you doing here?"

Although Emma's words were laced with a harsh tone, he knew that he had made the right decision when he observed the expression on her face, her eyes widened slightly in surprise, the flash of something resembling longing across her gaze. Killian almost smiled to himself as he checked, once again, that she was like an open book to him. No matter how she tried to hide her emotions, her deep green eyes were like a window to her soul.

"Where are your manners, Swan? Happy Christmas Eve to you too. I'm fine, thank you." He winked at her getting the desired effect, she rolled her eyes as she pressed her lips together in an attempt to curb an incipient smile. "May I come in or do you prefer to have this conversation here?"

She ignored him, although he suspected it was more a sign of the reserved pose she intended to hold. Then she stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind them. "I'm surprised you didn't use the key."

"Well, considering that my presence here might not be welcome, I didn't want to take a chance."

"So, what are you doing here?" she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest, although this time her voice showed curiosity rather than annoyance.

She was so beautiful that morning that Killian got distracted for a moment watching her features. There was no trace of makeup on her face, her hair was in a loose braid over her right shoulder and her eyes sparkled in such a distracting way that he had to blink to force himself to look away. Big mistake, since his gaze then traveled to her lips, causing a soft hum under his skin, while his own began to tingle, craving to savor them once more. She was like a siren inflicting a spell on him that prevented him from functioning properly.

After shaking his head slightly, he looked for her gaze again before speaking. "I'd like to express my gratitude for making that surprise visit possible."

"Oh."

"Thank you so much, Emma. It means the world to me." Her cheeks acquired a soft pink hue as she averted her gaze, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He had to suppress the urge to reach out to her.

"Well, it was nothing. I did it for myself, actually, to apologize for my poor behavior the first time. Besides, I know that, for one reason or another, you haven't been able to see each other during the holidays in recent years. I felt it was time for you to be reunited again at Christmas." She shrugged one shoulder as she gave him a timid look from underneath her eyelashes. "I'm looking forward to meeting her, by the way, and rectifying the impression she must have of me."

"The feeling is mutual. I mean, she's looking forward to meeting you too. And you shouldn't worry about that first impression, believe me. She likes you a lot. Her words," he assured her, earning a soft smile on her part. "You're still coming to dinner tonight, aren't you?"

"Sure, why wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off, the pink of her cheeks turning a more intense shade of red. "Sure, I'll be there."

This was the decisive moment, the moment he had been waiting for a long time. The moment to act. "I was wondering since you have been avoiding me these past few days."

"I haven't been avoiding you. I've been busy," she defended herself, although neither her voice nor the way she looked away were convincing.

"Come on, Swan. I'm quite perceptive. You've been avoiding me. And you and I know the reason, right?" His last words sounded in a soft cadence devoid of recrimination. The last thing he wanted was to cause her to hide again behind her protective wall.

Killian watched as a whirlwind of mixed emotions crossed her face, as if she were fighting a battle inside. He could feel the tension radiating off her, until, after what seemed like hours, the turbulent expression on her face softened slightly as she took a shuddering breath. "This..." she muttered as she waved her hand between them, "... This is too much, Killian. The kiss, the feelings, the sudden memories..."

"So you remember too."

A noise escaped from her mouth, half snort, half groan. "It seems the damn kiss acted as a trigger." She trailed off, as she bit her lower lip and averted her gaze as if doubting whether or not she should continue. "I now know we kissed before. Rather, I have the notion, not the detailed memory." The frustration was evident in her voice, which, despite the circumstances, was a good sign, wasn't it? "And then I freaked out and ran away."

“I don't know if it will help you, but I also remembered that kiss in that instant.” Before continuing, he watched as her features softened and her shoulders sank slightly, shedding part of the tension. It was as if his words had brought some kind of relief to her.

"It's quite frustrating, to be honest, the idea that we don’t remember our first kiss."

Just then, the reminder of a certain poll came to his mind. "Speaking of which, I keep wondering if your unusual song choice for this week has something to do with our lost memories."

Her features twisted in a grimace before covering her face with her hands. "Shit! I'm such an idiot," she whined as she shook her head. When she finally decided to show her face again, her cheeks were flushed and she looked mortified. "I needed to know if you also remembered. It was a desperate attempt to get a reaction from you. Pretty fruitless, I must say." She looked at him in an apologetic — and quite adorable — way.

"It's a good song, Swan. Very appropriate in every way," he hurried to reassure her. "Besides, everything seems to indicate that it will be the winner. But the damn song has been repeating itself in my mind since I read your message."

"Well, you can consider it as a kind of rehearsal for this Saturday," she suggested as she raised an eyebrow in his direction, any trace of her previous embarrassment disappeared from her face. "I haven't yet decided whether I like the song or not, since the lyrics seem quite ironic, with that reference to the drinks bringing back the memories, since with us it was the opposite."

Killian wasn't at all surprised that they had had the same thought about the song. He was madly in love with her for a reason, right? Well, for several reasons actually. Still, the reference to the drinks brought an idea to his mind that, for some reason, he hadn't considered until now. But at least it could offer some explanation to what happened with their memories. "Maybe our brain blocked those memories as a kind of weird defense mechanism, using alcohol as an excuse. We might not have been prepared to face the consequences of that kiss at that time, so our mind blocked that memory or, in my case, transformed it into a kind of very pleasant dream."

Her cheeks blushed and her eyes sparkled in a special way, causing his heart to melt a little in the process. "And what makes you think that now we are prepared to face those consequences?"

"Well, love, you kissed me again. I guess that's enough indication, isn't it?"

She let out a heavy sigh, a reluctant smile blossoming on her lips. "I guess you're right."

"In addition, we can always turn what happened into something positive. Now we will always have two first kisses. The first technical one, and the first real kiss, without alcohol involved."

"If you put it that way..."

"I know you're afraid, Emma. You don't want to get hurt again." He took a tentative step in her direction. Not only did she not back down from his advance but she reached out, looking for his hand and intertwining her fingers with his, a smile of encouragement pulling at her lips and causing his heart to almost stop working. He needed to take a deep breath before continuing. "We don't need to put what's happening between us into words. I won’t even ask you to express your feelings. But, please, don't push me away again."

The look Emma gave him was so intense that he felt how it reached his very soul. After what seemed like hours lost in each other's eyes, she shortened the distance between them even more and, after offering him a tiny smile, she pressed her lips to his in a soft, brief kiss, one full of promises. "Be patient," she whispered, her warm breath caressing his lips.

"Always," he replied. "I'm not going anywhere, Emma."

"Good."

His heart pounded frantically in his chest as he reached out his other hand, cupping her cheek delicately. She tilted her head under his touch as she closed her eyes, a quiet sigh sliding between her lips.

It was a beginning. He was aware that they still had to work not only to build their relationship, but to be totally honest with their feelings with each other. He had waited four years to reach this situation, and the wait had been worth it. He would not change what he was experiencing now for anything in the world.

When Emma opened her eyes again and he met the emerald intensity of her gaze, he had to resist the urge to kiss her senseless. Instead, he settled for circling her with his arms drawing her to him and wrapping her in a tight embrace. He would never tire of the incredible sensation of holding Emma in his arms, feeling her intoxicating scent seeping inside him making his head spin, while the warmth of her body against his caused a pleasant humming under his skin.

After placing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head, he whispered against her hair. "Do you have any plans right now?"

Emma pressed even more against his chest before answering, "I'm waiting for Elsa to come back. We have to start making dessert for dinner."

Although reluctant, Killian untangled from her, but entwined his hand with hers. "I think I have a better idea. Come with me to meet Belle."

"I'd love to, but Elsa will kill me if I leave her alone after she has also taken care of going to the grocery store."

After everything that happened, he was reluctant to separate from her. "Text her and tell her to go to my apartment instead of yours. After all, dinner is going to be there, isn't it? Besides, I guess my brother won't mind helping her at all."

"Okay… Give me ten minutes to get dressed." After turning to her bedroom, Emma seemed to remember something. She approached him again with a suggestive smile adorning her lips. "About the trip to Storybrooke. We've already talked about it on other occasions, but it never hurts to mention it again. I may not exactly remember the kiss and that we shared a bed, but I do remember everything else. It was a fantastic weekend."

"Aye, love. We should return there someday. To create new memories."

"And maybe this time we meet your twin, The Captain." Her eyes suddenly widened, while her face lit up. "We should also invite Elsa to join us; she would love the town and its inhabitants."

"And we would have to make sure we make the room reservations correctly," Killian added as he raised an eyebrow, his lips drawing a smirk, causing Emma to giggle, infecting him in the process. They shared a liberating laugh for the next few seconds, managing to drag away part of their concerns.

"Wow. I needed this moment," Emma said when the laughter subsided. "But I better get ready before it gets even later." She hadn't walked two steps before she turned and approached him again. "And above all, no alcohol involved, please. I want to remember everything." She then placed a quick peck on his lips, a subtle touch, but one full of promises. It was all he needed for now.

Christmas Eve Dinner-Party

Killian was elated. After his conversation with Emma, he began to feel like he was walking on clouds. That feeling, far from fading, had accompanied him throughout the day, with Emma by his side since she had barely separated from him since that morning.

As he had already imagined, Elsa did not mind at all moving the dessert preparations to his apartment. His brother gladly agreed to be her assistant in the kitchen, while Emma was relegated to help Belle and himself to finalize the decorations of the house, mistletoe included.

Belle and Emma got along well from the start. Killian still wasn't sure what had gone through Emma's mind the first time they had met and she had behaved quite impertinently with his friend. Since they hadn't discussed that subject again, he took a mental note to ask her later. Even so, Emma had rectified the situation, making this reunion possible. He couldn't feel more grateful to her.

After leaving everything ready for the dinner party, everyone left for The Kraken, where they would work for a couple of hours. A wave of pride seized him when Belle could see for the first time how the bar had changed in these four years thanks to Emma's touch, giving the place a soul of its own.

Although his friend had visited The Kraken long ago, in recent years she had been busy taking care of her sick mother while carrying out two jobs. Belle's visits to Boston had been very sporadic, with him and Liam being the ones traveling to see her on most occasions. That was why she had taken so long to meet Emma. Fortunately, her mother had managed to recover, so that opened the door to more frequent visits in the future.

After closing the bar early, all of them, Ruby and Robin and his family included, went to the brothers’ apartment to enjoy a special Christmas Eve celebration, with delicious food, relaxed conversations, and even some Christmas carols. It might have been the festive atmosphere around them causing bright smiles and sparkling eyes on all the guests. Whatever it was, the truth was that he had never felt more at peace with himself and with the rest of the world than at that precise moment, witnessing the happiness that emanated from all his loved ones.

"Did you figure out what was going on with Emma these last few days?" Killian had been so focused watching the conversation that took place in front of him between Emma and Belle that he hadn't realized that Liam had approached him until he heard his voice.

Killian offered an elusive response after casting a sidelong glance at his brother. "It was nothing important, I guess. She's fine now, isn't she?" He took a sip of his drink, wishing that Liam would not continue his line of inquiry since he wasn't willing to offer further explanations, at least not until he talked to Emma again. Killian kept looking forward on purpose, reluctant to face his brother. Liam didn't seem to catch the hint, though.

"Have you talked to her, you know, about your feelings?"

Liam had tried to keep up this kind of conversation in recent weeks, but Killian had always answered evasively. It wasn't going to be any different today. Besides, he might have found the best way to divert attention, launch a counterattack.

"What about you?"

Liam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What about me? What do you mean?"

"Do you intend to do something about your feelings towards a certain other blonde?"

The way in which Liam's features changed was almost comical. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. Then his gaze drifted for a split second in the direction of Elsa while he scratched behind his ear. Finally, he nodded almost imperceptibly, as if he were convincing himself, before answering. "Maybe."

Killian cocked his head to one side while arching an eyebrow in appreciation. "So maybe?"

"Aye. You know the motto, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants..."

"...deserves what he gets," Killian finished for him, letting the words sink deep into him.

"Life is too short, little brother." Liam patted his shoulder affectionately before continuing, "Sometimes it's worth not thinking so much and simply acting and pursuing what we really want." After those last significant words, Liam offered him a smile of encouragement, before walking away with a clear destination.

Killian couldn't feel happier for his brother. It was as if the pieces of the puzzle that formed the life of the Jones brothers had finally begun to fit together, offering a glimpse of a promising picture. Just then, one of the pieces of that puzzle, the most precious for Killian, began to walk in his direction, a radiant smile adorning her face and a special glow in her eyes that had the ability to take his breath away.

"Can you come with me to the kitchen, Jones? I need something from there." Emma didn't even wait for an answer, but kept walking in the direction of the kitchen. He, of course, followed in her footsteps.

This woman would never stop surprising him. At the moment when the kitchen door closed behind them, she practically pounced on him, pressing her lips against his in a burning kiss, one with the ability to set him in flames inside. Any coherent thoughts vanished in his head being replaced by a single image, Emma.

He got lost in the incredible sensation of her lips on his and her body pressed against his, generating a delicious friction in the right places. They devoured each other until they had to pull apart to catch their breaths.

"It's not like I'm complaining. Obviously I'm not. But what was this about?" he muttered, his breath still agitated, his forehead resting against hers.

"Well, I've seen you talking to Liam and for some reason, I thought about the mistletoe that was hanging near you."

"You've lost me, love." His brain was certainly not working properly yet, because he didn't catch how those two aspects were related.

Emma separated a little from him while raising an eyebrow in an amused expression. Then she rolled her eyes before answering, "I'm only going to kiss you when I really want it, not because I'm forced to do it due to a stupid tradition marked by a plant."

"So there will be no kiss under the mistletoe?"

"Nope."

"Okay... No kiss under the mistletoe. I got it." He let out an exaggerated sigh pretending resignation and then his lips drew a small pout. "A pity."

"You're such an idiot," she snorted. "Besides the stupid tradition, I prefer to keep this, whatever it is, just for us. At least until we figure things out better."

Killian realized at that moment that, until now, Emma had been the one to initiate all their kisses. Maybe the time had come to rectify that. "Just to clarify, I'm also allowed to kiss you whenever I want as long as it's in private?"

Emma tilted her head while biting her lower lip in a mischievous way. "I guess you'll have to find out for yourself," she replied before finally turning away from him and opening the door again. The bloody siren had the audacity to blow a kiss in his direction before heading towards the living room, a smile of satisfaction drawn on her lips the last thing he saw before the door closed behind her.

Killian needed to take a couple of deep breaths while waiting for his body to recover before he returned to the living room as well. This woman was going to be the death of him, no doubt.

A couple of minutes later, Killian felt able to return with the rest. His gaze inevitably turned in Emma's direction. When their eyes met, she offered him a soft smile before continuing to talk to Ruby and Mulan. Killian's gaze then roamed the rest of the room until he found his brother who was talking to Elsa. When Killian realized the specific spot they were located in, he couldn't help smiling with delight as he went in search of Emma.

Luck seemed to be on his side that night, finally. Just before he approached Emma, Ruby and Mulan left her to start a new conversation with Regina, Robin's new girlfriend. Killian took advantage of that moment to shorten the distance between them to stand right in front of her. "Swan, about the mistletoe..."

"I've already told you, Jones, I'm not gonna kiss you with everyone around." She cut him off abruptly with a somewhat exasperated tone, although Killian detected a hint of playfulness and perhaps desire in her voice.

"I know, I know, a stupid tradition and whatever, but, you may change your mind now." Killian pointed his head in the direction of Liam and Elsa, a huge grin pulling at his lips.

Emma's eyes widened immediately as she gripped his arm tightly. "Holy shit! They're about to kiss!"

Killian couldn't help a quiet chuckle from escaping his throat. It seemed obvious that whatever prejudices Emma had against the mistletoe, they did not apply to Elsa or Liam.

"You were saying, Swan?" he muttered into her ear, resisting the urge to bite her lobe or slide his lips over her neck. Maybe another time…

"Shut up, Killian, don't distract me now," she mumbled as she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her pants. "Do you think they'll get mad at me if I take a picture of the moment?"

Killian barked out a laugh as he shook his head. He then turned to his brother and shouted, "Hey, Liam. Look up."

Liam - December 2019

"Hey, Liam. Look up."

Liam ignored his brother's words at first, too focused on his conversation with Elsa. They had been discussing the next step in relation to Killian and Emma as it seemed that they both were still reluctant to take the final step.

"Oh my god! You are under the mistletoe!" What his ears did catch was Anna's almost deafening yell. It was then that his brain finally processed what was happening.

Slowly, he looked up, finding himself, of course, with the mistletoe sprig hanging just above him. Bloody hell. His gaze then turned to Elsa. She seemed visibly nervous, her gaze traveling from the mistletoe, pausing briefly on him, and then looking at her sister with a pleading expression on her face.

"You have to kiss, guys. You know the tradition," Anna continued, squealing as she bounced and clapped excitedly.

"Don't listen to her, love. You certainly don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Liam assured her in a quiet voice as he offered a reassuring smile, even though his heart threatened to beat right out of his ribcage.

Elsa's cheeks colored a soft shade of pink, highlighting her innate beauty as she bit her lower lip in a way that was perhaps too tempting. He also felt his cheeks burn but he ignored his inner agitation, looking for Elsa's gaze to make sure she was alright.

Her lips curled up as she shrugged. "It's just a kiss, isn't it?" She moved closer to him, causing his heart to beat frantically as the butterflies in his stomach began to flutter. Before shortening the distance completely, her eyes widened slightly. "You want this too, don't you?"

"Aye, since it's a tradition..." he muttered while his eyes bored into hers. The corners of her lips rose slightly before standing on tiptoe and pressing her lips against his own. It was a brief kiss, just a gentle brush, but enough for him to feel the softness of her lips and the warmth of her breath, causing something to stir inside him while everything around him seemed to fade.

Only when Elsa pulled apart was Liam able to recover his senses. Ignoring the cheering around them, he devoted himself to observing her features, finding no trace of regret, but rather an expression of contentment while the flash of something similar to hope crossed her gaze.

"We're definitely the worst matchmakers ever. Not only do we not get them to kiss, but we fall into our own trap. We are idiots."

Liam couldn't prevent a liberating laugh from escaping from his mouth, getting to infect Elsa in the process. "I’m not complaining at all, love," he managed to assure her once the laughter subsided as he placed an arm on her shoulders. "But we better think of another plan for these two stubborn ones."

"Hey lovebirds, stop whispering and share with the rest." Liam was tempted to ignore Emma's words and remain in his own bubble with Elsa, but he certainly did not enjoy being the center of attention. So, after letting out a heavy sigh, he began to walk away from the mistletoe, keeping his arm around Elsa's shoulders, gently pushing her to accompany him.

"Well, taking advantage of everyone's attention, I'd like to announce something." All eyes in the room suddenly turned to Anna, while Liam noticed how Elsa tensed beside him. Anna's eyes narrowed before she let out a snort. "No, it's not what you're thinking. I'm not pregnant, nor are we getting married. Yet."

"Nor have I proposed to her. Yet," Kristoff added as he winked at his girlfriend.

"What I wanted to announce is that Kris and I have gotten an early Christmas gift and we will also be able to share it with some of you." Anna made a deliberate pause as if she wanted to create tension in the atmosphere.

"Come on, Anna, spit it out."

Anna frowned as she raised a finger in warning in Emma's direction. "Patience is not one of your best virtues, Emma. I guess Killian agrees with me." Anna directed a conspiratorial glance towards Killian who responded by nodding, earning a nudge from Emma. "Anyway, as I was saying before the interruption... We... are going to spend New Year's Eve in a cabin in the woods. And best of all, there is room for six people, isn't it wonderful?"

"What Anna means is that both the brothers Jones and Elsa and Emma, are invited to join us," Kristoff explained. "I'm afraid there's no room for anyone else." He gave an apologetic look in the direction of both Ruby and Robin.

Liam's excitement lasted exactly five seconds, the time he needed to try to add that event to his mental schedule and realize that he would not be able to attend. A sense of disappointment took hold of him, because the idea of further developing the incipient relationship with Elsa in a different environment was too appealing. But he could not ignore his responsibilities.

"Thank you so much for the offer guys, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. We're throwing a New Year's Eve party at The Kraken."

"But having a party at The Kraken doesn't necessarily mean you have to attend, right? I mean, you're the boss, you can do whatever you want!" Anna insisted, looking at the others in search of agreement.

She was somehow right. He might feel obligated to stay but that didn't mean Emma and Killian had to decline the invitation too. Just when he was about to make the proposal, Ruby came forward.

"Anna has a point. In fact, I think you three should go. Mulan will be with me that night. She has experience serving drinks, so she will be very helpful." Ruby looked at her girlfriend who offered her a smile while nodding in agreement.

"And you have already given me all this week off to enjoy the holidays with my family, so I will be there too." Liam was about to reply, but Robin kept talking. "Besides, I literally live three floors above the bar and Regina will be there taking care of Roland. I can take small breaks during my shift to see them.”

"I appreciate your support guys, but there will be a lot of work since we estimate that public attendance will be high. I don't think it's fair to load you with more work than necessary, honestly."

"You could hire more temporary bartenders. You have a week ahead to get everything organized." This time it was Belle who made the suggestion, clearly interested in sending him to that cabin in the woods. Yes, he could afford to hire some waiters, but still…

A deep exhale escaped between his lips, while he felt all eyes on him. He wanted to accept the invitation so badly, not only because that would allow him to spend more time with Elsa, but because it would also be the perfect excuse for both Killian and Emma to continue exploring their relationship outside their usual environment and because he had worked hard during the year and deserved a break.

He cast a sidelong glance at Elsa, who was still by his side. She was looking at her sister with whom she seemed to be having a silent conversation. His gaze then shifted to Emma and Killian who were also sharing furtive glances. It was as if everyone was waiting expectantly for him to make a final decision.

"What do you think, Emma?" Liam had learned to trust Emma's instincts as far as business was concerned, so he decided that if she gave her approval he would cease to be opposed to the idea.

Emma cast a last sidelong glance at Killian before answering. "I have a couple of people in mind who could help. I think there will be no problem at all. Ruby and Robin will have everything under control." To reaffirm her words, she quietly nodded her head, her lips curled upward. "It will only be one night. It will be fine."

His decision seemed obvious. If everyone agreed, who was he to refuse the possibility to spend a couple of days off with his loved ones? "Well, guys, if you put it that way I will have no choice but to accept." Everyone broke into applause but he ignored them, looking for Elsa's gaze instead. The radiant smile she offered him was enough to convince himself that he had made the right decision.

youtube

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

Just three chapters to go... What might happen when you put six people together in a cabin to celebrate New Year with all those simmering feelings around them?

#cs ff #captain swan #cs au #csrt #damn you for making me love you #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs au ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings

35 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Waste the Night Away

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hanta Sero, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Mermaid AU

Hello, everybody! This is another piece for @bnhabookclub‘s MerMay event, this time for the prompt “Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night”!

This is also a present for my lovely beta-reader and number-one supporter @deliathedork. I love you dearest! You certainly make all my hard work worth it! <3 Enjoy!

“Needless to say, I keep her in check! She was a bad-bad, nevertheless-! Callin’ it quits, da dunna dun duh…” Hanta sang along to the music pumping in his headphones as he jaunted along the concrete sidewalk. He punctuated the words with very exaggerated motions, earning him quite a few concerned glances from passersby; not that he noticed, because he had his eyes closed as he skipped a few steps flapping his arms like a chicken. “Then you’re left in the dust-! Unless I stuck by yaaaaaaa! You’re a sunflowwwwwwer! I think your love would be too much!” he yowled and spun around a light pole on the corner before hopping off and scooting a few more steps down the sloping sidewalk.

It was about seven o’clock in the evening, and Hanta was on his way home from a riotous day of videogames at Denki’s house. Hanta had proudly obliterated Denki, Katsuki, Eijirou, and surprise guest Fumikage at Super Smash Bros. Needless to say, he was still riding the victory high- so much so that he had elected to walk home rather than take the bus. The night was pleasantly chilly, just enough to stave off the heat from all his wild dancing, and a few of the stars were visible between the wispy gray clouds trawling over the inky expanse of the night sky. The evening was still young, so as he jitterbugged his way through town, he distantly wondered what he was going to do for the rest of it.

“I can hear you tellin’ me to turn around! Fightin’ for my trust, and you won’t back down! Da dunna dun duh, da dunna dun da…” he clumsily sang as he hopped over the curb to jaywalk across an empty street. He trotted down another incline, which led to his shortcut- a waterway that traveled the length of a series of highway overpasses. The watercourse siphoned excess water away from the city reservoir; it had rained a considerable amount lately, so the freshwater was lapping up at the edges of the levee. The splashing and gurgling of the water served as an accompaniment to his performance while he strolled along, occasionally stopping to kick his legs or punch the air energetically. “You’re the sunflowwwwwer! You’re the sunflower!” he howled again, skipping to the edge of the levee and shaking his hips, before the song ended. He then wrenched his headphones off his ears to rest them around his neck and released a self-satisfied sigh, placing his hands on his hips and staring out at the canal.

Hanta always took a moment to appreciate the view when he came this way, if the water level was high enough. It was extraordinarily breathtaking when the stars were out. Light sparkled across the gently sloshing waves like millions of diamonds. Just above the concrete slopes of the other side of the levee, through a rusted chain-link fence, spread the expanse of the city; gold lights floated like orbs in the distance, emanating from streetlights and houses and businesses. If he squinted, he could make out the reds and green of traffic stops as well, or the flickering neon flashes of animated billboards. He could not hear the deafening noise pollution of civilization, though, aside from the humming of car engines bouncing down from the highway half a mile from where he stood. No, the sounds of nature reigned- the babbling of the water, the chirping of the crickets in the bunches of weeds springing up from the cracked sidewalk, the baying of stray hounds and the hooting of the barn owl that nested in the crooked old tree beyond the fence. He closed his eyes as he drank it all in. The bubbling. The chirping. The howling. The hooting. The little muffled whimpers for help-

Wait a second.

Hanta’s eyes snapped open, and he strained his ears to make sure he had indeed heard what he thought he had. Sure enough, floating down the waterway from his right were small, stifled squeaks and sobs. Someone needs help! He took off down the sidewalk, whipping out his phone to turn on the flashlight. A bright circle of white illuminated the stone construct before him, and he swung his phone side to side wildly to check every square inch of space.

“Hello? Who’s out here? Do you need help?” he called, cupping a hand to his mouth to increase the volume. The noises ceased for a moment, and he worried that he might have frightened them off. “Don’t be scared! I just wanna help you!” He remained still aside from his slightly ragged breaths, eyes searching the dark and ears straining the fresh night air for any sound, any at all.

“… Please help me.” The plea was meek, but close, close enough for him to tell it was a girl. A million deplorable scenarios flew through his mind at once, but he forbade himself to settle on any of them; instead, he focused on picking his way down the slick slope to where he thought the voice originated from. Suddenly, the disc of light from his phone’s flashlight puddled over a caramel-haired, brown-eyed girl with her body half in the water.

“What the shit?!” Hanta panted under his breath. He cried out as the sole of his sneaker slipped over the wet rock, and he sank into a split. He let out a shrill whine as his thigh and groin muscles strained way past the point they were naturally meant to. His feet scrabbled against the slimy, rocky levee wall until he managed to regain his footing again. Hugging the levee surface, he allowed gravity to slide him the rest of the way down the slope until the toes of his sneakers barely breached the rippling surface of the water. “Don’t worry, miss, I gotcha,” he reassured the frightened girl as she shied away from his sudden presence. He held his phone up so that the light illuminated her fully but also fell on him so she could see his kind smile. “We’re gonna get you back up just… just… fine…”

His words trailed off when he happened to look down at her lower half, which rested in the water. It was just instinctual. He hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, given the situation; he could have discovered any number of sickening or unsavory things. What he discovered was not sickening or unsavory, but downright befuddling. Rather than human legs, the lower half of the girl’s body was in the form of a bubblegum pink, scaly fishtail, with thin, curving fins like a flying fish. Hanta stared incredulously at the appendage for a few seconds before he realized why the girl- mermaid, rather- had been crying out for help. Wrapped around her tail were industrial-sized plastic rings. The hard edges were digging into the flesh, slicing right through the hard scales to cause blood and effluent to ooze out. The mermaid stared fearfully at him the entire time.

“Right! Uh, knife, I need a knife,” he mumbled and began patting his pockets in search of his Swiss Army knife. One never knew when one needed a particular tool, so Hanta had always made a point to keep one on his person. He never dreamed he would be using it to cut some plastic off a mermaid, though.

“Ah-ha!” he grinned triumphantly when he finally tugged it out of his back pocket. He flashed a reassuring smile at the mermaid. “Don’t worry, Miss Mermaid. I’mma have you free in a jiffy.”

“Erm… Thank you,” she flushed shyly and dropped her gaze. Hanta then realized he would need two hands to cut her free, so he grinned bashfully at her.

“Er, would you mind, uh, holding this for me?” he asked with a shake of his smartphone. She stared curiously at the device and gave an unsure nod, reaching up with her small hands to take it. “Just keep that light pointed on your tail- Jesus Christ, she has a tail- uh, keep it pointed there so I can see.” Obediently, she turned the phone so that the flashlight kept her tail illuminated. Hanta bit down on his bottom lip as he hunched over the appendage to begin cutting the plastic loose.

Some areas were more accessible than others; in several places, the plastic was lodged half an inch down in the meat of her tail. He felt pangs of guilt every time the poor thing yelped with pain when he would dig his fingertip into the gaping wound to pry it out. She began to squirm around and sob pitifully, so he decided to try and distract her from the discomfort. “My name’s Hanta. Sero Hanta,” he informed her with a quick smile. “What about you? Do you have a name like humans?”

“In your language, it would be Ochako. Uraraka Ochako.”

“Cute name, cute name.” He winced when she whimpered again, for he was digging into a rather deep laceration to force out some clinging particles of the stretchy plastic. “How did you even do this?” he muttered disparagingly. He glanced at her face to see her eyes tearing up and a self-pitying pout making her lips quiver.

“I just swam into it like a big dummy… I freaked out trying to get it off, and next thing I knew, I was up in this channel. I got it all tangled with my fins, so it was getting hard to swim…” She used to her free hand to wipe at the tears glittering on her brown lashes. “I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever…”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it! Good thing I happened upon you, huh?” he interjected as she began to cry piteously. He probably shouldn’t have delved too much into the backstory. A bright idea struck him like a thunderbolt, and he wrenched off his headphones to stick them over her ears. “Here! Listen to this, and it won’t hurt as much,” he instructed her and tapped on his phone screen to restart the music. Her eyes went wider than the full moon above as the music began blasting in her ears. The tears ceased leaking down, and slowly, she began bobbing her head a little. Hanta beamed widely, pleased his clever plan worked, and resumed cutting at the plastic. He gave the mermaid an amused side-eye as she began humming along to the tune.

Once he had tossed the last bit of the plastic up onto the top of the levee, Ochako gave her tail an experimental flap. She flushed pink and slapped her hand to her mouth as she involuntarily splashed water all down his front and into his face. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s just water,” he laughed mirthfully when she began to squeak apologies. “It’ll dry,” he purred and wrung out his shirt. The water gushed down onto the stone levee with spattering splashes. “Anyway, do you think you can swim now?”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed and lowered the headphones from her ears to glance gratefully down at her tail. Thin lacerations painted red cross-crossing lines in the bright pink flesh, but her fins now fluttered freely. He gawked in awe at the realization she could manipulate each one of them voluntarily. She noticed him staring and giggled. “Would you like to touch it?”

“Is that weird?”

“No. Go ahead,” she chuckled. Hanta immediately splayed his palms out over the fishy tail, dark eyes going wide. It wasn’t nearly as slimy as he thought it would be. The scales were a little soft and pliant, feeling like thin discs rolling under his skin. The membranes of her fins were so delicate-looking that he was scared to touch them, but when he did, pinching them between the pads of his forefinger and thumb, they felt like the sheerest lace.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured on reflex. He looked up to see Ochako blushing and bashfully holding a hand to her reddening cheek. Realizing just how embarrassing that was, he hastily retracted his hands and straightened up. “Anywa- Ack!” He had put too much force in the movement and essentially flung himself. He slipped down the rest of the levee to land with a splash in the water. The bank was only about two feet deep, so he could sit there on his rump in the water and grin shyly at the concerned mermaid. “Well, guess now we really don’t have to worry about you splashing me, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a girlish giggle that made Hanta feel all dreamy-like. Sighing contentedly, he crawled back up onto the levee and reclined against the slope on his back, putting his hands behind his head and bending one knee. “Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night,” he chuckled.

“Me neither,” she laughed and stretched out on her belly beside him. She raised her tail, and as it caught the moonlight, the scales shimmered like thousands of pink opals. Water cascaded down from it like liquid crystal to plop in the water below. Hanta caught himself staring again and returned his attention to her face, finding her smiling warmly.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen a girl- mermaid- as pretty as you.”

“I’m the only mermaid you’ve ever seen.”

“That automatically makes you the prettiest, though!” Ochako laughed loudly at his explanation. He found himself savoring her laugh. It rang out like bright bells, full of cheer and goodness. He rolled onto his side, resting a cheek in his hand. He ignored the way the rough stone scraped his elbow, because he just wanted to keep looking at her. He knew he would probably never see her again, so he sought to get his fill. Ochako tilted her head to the side coyly.

“Hanta?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about the human world.”

So he did. He told her everything his spastic little brain could think of- cars, trains, movie theaters, bubble tea, traffic stops, coffee, videogames, the little old lady next door with the Chihuahua he swore was the spawn of Satan. The amount of information that tumbled from his mouth was disgustingly overwhelming and mind-numbingly mundane. Still, Ochako hung onto every word with the most rapturous expression on her round face. Hanta found himself getting pointlessly excited about it all and was soon sitting straight up, gesturing wildly with his hands. Occasionally, Ochako would pipe up about a counterpart they possessed in the underwater realm, and they would gush about it for a few minutes. They didn’t notice the moon swiftly traveling across the sky, nor the golden lights of the city flickering out one by one. For that brief period, it seemed like time did not exist at all; that waterway was theirs and theirs alone. That little stretch of levee was a dimension beyond all responsibility and borders. They were perfectly content to waste the night away until the dawn came creeping in, flooding the world with its warm light.

The bubble burst when Hanta’s phone began to ring. He grimaced when he noticed it was his mother, and hurriedly picked up, because he’d never hear the end of it if he rejected her call.

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom, I got caught up at Denki’s. I’m all right. I’ll be home soon. Bye.” Ochako was staring at the phone like it was its own life form when he hung up. She then frowned sadly.

“Does this mean you have to go?”

“Unfortunately so,” he sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, then smiled sheepishly at her. “This might sound corny and all, but I’ll never forget you.”

“Why do you say that like you’ll never see me again?” she asked, looking hurt. He blinked stupidly at her and then flushed.

“Well… I mean… Isn’t it dangerous for you to swim up in the canal? You know, getting kidnapped by humans and sold off to a circus and all that?”

“Yeah, but I don’t care.” He reeled in her utter disregard for her safety. She gave him a roguish smile that was ridiculously cute on her round face. “I’ll come back tomorrow!” Hanta made a mental check of his plans to ensure that an excursion to the channel was indeed feasible before nodding excitedly.

“Yeah! But be careful,” he grimaced. She giggled coquettishly and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me.”

“Well, I am a gentleman,” he huffed, puffing out his chest and closing his eyes with a self-possessed smirk. Ochako took advantage of his lapse in security, and the next thing he knew, she had her lips pressed up against his cheek. All his mental processes screeched to a jarring halt, and he just gawked open-mouthed at her with a brainless “Uhhhhhh…” rumbling in his throat. Ochako giggled at his bashful response and shot him another flirty smile.

“See you around. And thanks again!” Before he could think of anything intelligent to say, she dove off the levee into the water. He tried to scramble to his feet. He only succeeded in tumbling back into the water again, this time with his phone in his pocket. His headphones just barely avoided suffering water damage, and he wrenched his phone out of his pocket to hold it aloft, praying that it was true that it was waterproof. He just barely caught a glimpse of Ochako’s bright pink tail swaying underneath the surface of the glittering black water before it faded into the shadows.

“See ya,” he called softly. Though it was impossible, he still fancied that she heard him.

Groaning, he climbed back up the slope of the levee to the flat sidewalk. He shook himself out like a shaggy dog and wrung as much as the water as he could from his clothes, then placed the headphones snugly over his ears. His phone was thankfully working just fine. He started his music back up and began swaying to the beat a little, then took off in a jog down the path leading home.

“Even if we gotta risk it all right now, oh-! I know you're scared of the unknown! You don't wanna be alone! Da da dun dunna dun dun dun… You’re my sunflowwwwer…”

When his mother inquired what the big smile on his face was for, he merely replied that his Saturday night hadn’t been a wasted one.

DISCLAIMER: The rights to “Sunflower” belong to Post Malone.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @mhafandomman @simplybakugou @sadistiks

37 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part six) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±1900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part six: Y/N is getting lost in the feelings that she’s developing for Dean, and it doesn’t take long before Jo takes notice. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

Okay, maybe the tequila last night wasn’t such a good idea. Neither was that margarita the previous night, or the drinking game the night before that one. Or was it the other way around? Y/N cannot seem to recall, but today is Friday, so at least tomorrow she can sleep her way through the headache. Never ever did she drink as much as she did this week. Normally that would bother her, especially considering she’s not here on Spring break. But when the drinks are offered in a time when she needs a little something to stop thinking about that damned Dean Winchester, she couldn't care less about the increase of alcohol consumption.

She found the balance quite quickly, too. Intoxicated enough to let go of the complexity that comes with growing fondness of the head wrangler, but sober enough to stop herself from doing anything stupid. The consequence is, however, that on this morning ride, her brain feels like it’s trying to expand beyond the size of her head. Thank God her stomach isn't acting up, because Joplin is trotting under her nervously. Seems like Y/N is having trouble finding the ‘walk’ button this early. The hot-blooded mare fails to respond when her rider asks her to slow down by saying ‘ho’ with a calm voice, but when Y/N breathes out, relaxes her legs, and shifts deeper in the saddle only by a fraction of an inch, the black horse transitions to walk.

“Good girl,” Y/N compliments her.

Three days without riding were more than she could handle. Meadow needed some time to recover from the long journey and to get used to her new home, but Y/N needed to restrain herself from climbing on the mare’s back anyway. She imagined this was a glimpse of what it would be like to kick an addiction cold turkey, going into withdrawal from the lack of her drug. As if not being able to train her own horse wasn't enough, it took another extra day before Y/N got onto any horse at all. It wasn't until yesterday morning that the supervisor decided that she deserved a shot at proving herself as a wrangler. She had to earn that by mucking, shit scooping, cleaning tack, and turning horses in and out. Which she gets, of course. Dean and Bobby wanted to see what she is made of before they let her ride one of their animals. But boy, was she frustrated. She even got to the point that Garth almost caught her muttering a promise to herself that if she had to clean up some horse’s massive dump one more time without a reward, she would be out of here.

Yesterday she finally got to accompany a few guests on a trail. It was amazing to feel the horse move under the saddle again, the experience of the communication that she established within a second, and how the perfect fit on his back felt like home. Apparently, she did well, because on this morning ride, she is allowed to come along too.

Content, she looks ahead at the large group of inexperienced riders, who find their way down the hill with some difficulty. The respect Y/N holds for the trail horses has grown, because their patience and ability to keep their clumsy passengers in the saddle hasn't ceased to amaze her. Bruce, a draft horse mix, has halted several times already, waiting motionless until his overweight German load has pulled himself back into the saddle after slowly tipping to one side. It's quite entertaining to watch.

As she smiles at what’s playing out in front of her, the sound of hoofsteps close by on the rocky surface reaches her hearing. When she glances over her shoulder, a beautiful buckskin is just about to transition to an easy walk after catching up. Her eyes glide up until they meet his rider.

“So, how are you this morning?” Dean wonders, a playful smile on his face. It takes a short moment for her to answer, taken aback by her body’s response to the sight of the wrangler. A whirlwind starts to twist in her stomach, yet the headache suddenly doesn't seem as tormenting as it was a minute ago. “I'm okay,” she claims. He grins. “Sure about that? You had quite a few drinks last night.” “I can handle myself,” she returns defensively, narrowing her eyes at him a little. “Oh, I’m sure you can.”

He chuckles, the warm and low sound rumbling deep in his throat triggering Y/N to peek at him from the corner of her eye. Was that a nervousness she detected? Did she just make him uneasy? He looks down, his lips drawn in a small smile. The sun from the east outlines the sharp lines of his jaw, edged by a scruff; apparently he didn't take the time to shave this morning. Boy, is she glad he didn’t.

“Okay, I'll admit,” she says, trying to take away his insecurities. “My stomach might be a little… unsettled.” Y/N isn’t lying, although alcohol has nothing to do with the butterflies that came to life inside of her. He doesn't know that, thankfully, yet he keeps a hold of his intern’s gaze for a little while longer, reading her. As if Dean’s horse wants to help love a little, the Quarter sways closer to her horse Joplin, the two of them now riding stirrup to stirrup. His knee slightly brushes against hers every other step and despite that it's barely a touch, she’s highly aware of the physical contact.

“Don't throw up on your horse if you want to leave a good impression with me. Believe me, it ain't pretty,” Dean half jokes, half flirts. She throws her head back in a laugh. “Don't worry, I won't. But please don't tell me you have seen that happen.” “More than once, I'm afraid,” he remembers, turning in his saddle to face his younger cousin. “Ey, Jo?” The blonde cowgirl, who is about thirty yards behind them, throws him a confused look, since she hasn't picked up a word of their conversation. Puzzled, she watches, inducing the riders further up to laughter. “No way!” Y/N cries out. “I ain’t kiddin’,” Dean sniggers. “I'll save that story for another time. Y’know, when your stomach isn't ‘unsettled’ by the same tequila that started Jo’s tale.”

He spurs his horse, who canters forward to meet the group of guests up ahead. She observes Dean as the morning sun portrays the cowboy and his horse in a romantic light. Out here, away from the city, the Arizona landscape would have anyone believe that they traveled back to the time, when the Wild West was still the real deal. Cacti surround them, peculiar mountain peaks shaped by ten thousand years of wind erosion obstruct the far edge of the world. And in this perfect portrait rides a handsome cowboy, one with his horse, clouds of dust in their wake. An amused smile allows a glimpse of Y/N’s true feelings to shine through. There it is again, that tingly sensation in her belly. Sure, Dean. Blame it on the tequila, she thinks to yourself.

“What the hell was that?” Now that Dean left his spot next to her, Jo has caught up, gently pulling the reins as she sits back to bring her horse’s pace down. Feeling caught, Y/N looks at her, brought off balance by the spite in the cowgirl’s voice. “What do you mean?” “Oh, c’mon, Yankee. I wasn’t born yesterday, and neither were you. You just completed your master in business, don't act like you're stupid,” Jo counters. “You and Dean, what’s going on?” The cowgirl eyes her in shock, her jaw dropping unpleasantly surprised. Was it really that obvious? How is she going to talk herself out of this one? “I - I don't--” she stutters, blood rushing to her face. “There - there's nothing--” She’s not sure if it’s her shameful expression or the fact that she lost her tongue, but Jo knows enough. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply. “Y/N…” her friend starts, a mixture of disappointment and pity present in her voice. “Please don't go down that road. He will hurt you so bad you're gonna wish you never gone on that flight that got you here.” Now the intern sighs too. Denying will not do her any good. Jo is smart enough to see right through it. “Listen, I really like having you around. You're good company, you're a hard worker, you're great with the horses, and I don’t wanna lose my sis,” the ranch owner’s daughter says genuinely. “I would hate to see you leave because of my heartbreaker of a cousin. I've seen this play out so many times already, don't walk into that trap.” “I think that ship has sailed,” her friend admits out loud.

The words startle the woman who speaks them just as much as they stun Jo; she didn't intend to share that with her new friend already. But now that the comment is hovering between them without a way to take it back, a part of her is glad it’s out there. Dean has been about the only thing on her mind since she first saw him. Not being able to talk about that with anyone was driving her mad. She needs to vent to someone, someone she can trust.

Shocked by the bombshell that Y/N just dropped, Jo turns her head to orient her big eyes towards the man in question. That son of a bitch.. “Well, that didn't take long…” The cowgirl shakes her head, then looks her in the eye after her confession. It's clear she feels sorry for her friend. “I'll talk to him.” “No! Jo, please don't. Look, I didn't forget about your warning and I’m surely not going to act on these... feelings,” she guarantees, barely able to get out the word. “But I can't shut this off. It caught me by surprise as well.” “He tends to have that effect on women,” Jo mutters. “I won't do anything stupid,” Y/N assures her. Jo glances at the intern from under her hat. “Promise?”

She looks backs at her new friend. Honestly, she isn’t sure if she’s strong enough to resist Dean, but this agreement might help her stick to the plan. The plan to complete her internship successfully and return home to start her own ranch. It's all she ever wanted, it has been her life goal for as long as she can remember. Is she really going to let some cowboy stop her from fulfilling that dream? A very handsome, sweet, and utterly irresistible cowboy, but nonetheless. She will reach for the stars and she will have her wish, nothing will stand in her way, not even him. And so a reassuring smile forms on her lips.

“I promise.”

Well, the cat’s out of the bag. Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part seven here

198 notes · View notes

wematch · 4 years ago

Text

Avatar: The Legend of Neil CH7

For many years, the four nations lived together in harmony.

Then, everything changed when a conspiracy to start a war began.

Only the avatar, master of all four elements, could stop it, but when the identity of the new avatar was found, he vanished.

Many years passed without anyone knowing where he was. Then he appeared on a farm in the Earth Kingdom, disguised as a firebender named Neil. And although his bending skills were weak when he got there, with practice he grew stronger every day that passed.

Now with a war looming by, Neil must find his own path into becoming the new avatar and bring balance to the world.

***

As always, a huge thank you to @tntwme for being an amazing beta! <3<3

This fic was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @aymmidumps, go check it out! [here]

You can also read it from the start on [AO3]

***

Book 2: Water

Chapter 3: Travelling

They travel the rest of the night at a rapid pace, trying to put as much distance between them and the farm.

According to Dan’s map they need to walk around most of the mountain to be able to get to the bay so it will take them several days. Renee suggests that they travel into the mountain and climb it to pass to the other side. No one is thrilled by the suggestion but Dan who has seen the mountains from the sky on her regular trips with Wymack to the market, is confident that it will save them time.

The first time they stop, the sun is already rising. Everyone drops down to the floor, too exhausted to continue. Matt starts passing water and it’s only in that moment that Neil really notices everyone’s state around him. He had been too lost in his head, thinking about Lola and the comet that he only focused on Andrew’s back in front of him as they walked quietly under the moonlight. Neil takes it all in, the bags under everyone’s eyes, the uneasy way they keep looking around their surroundings, Allison's hand wrapped in fabric and Aaron’s dried blood on his cheek.

“Neil, come over here,” Dan calls him as she walks to Allison’s side. She unwraps Allison’s hand and inspects the cut she suffered. “You’re not really supposed to start with healing lessons when you start training,” she begins to explain, “Matt started learning with me recently but I’m hoping that your mojo as the avatar has some perks and you can learn quickly.”

“My mojo?” Neil questions, as he sits down next to them.

“Well, you’re the avatar you have access to the power of all your past lives.”

“Yes, but I can only access that kind of power in the avatar state and I’ve never entered it on purpose,” Neil explains. He pauses for a moment and adds more quietly, “I can’t control it.”

“Well, I'm sure past avatars have learned to heal so I'm sure you'll be good at it too.”

“I’m really loving this conversation but can we have it after you heal me?” Allison says, slightly annoyed.

Dan arches one eyebrow. “If you prefer, I can just leave your hand as it is.”

Allison yawns. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. I just want to get some sleep before lunch time.”

“Me too,” Dan agrees, they exchange weak smiles and Dan begins to bend the water to cover Allison’s hand. “First lesson is that the chi is the lifeforce of the body, and what we do is reroute the energy to the injured area of the body.”

Neil watches, amazed, as she works. After noticing some lighter cuts in Allison’s arm, Dan envelops the entire arm with water. Dan moves her hands and the water begins to glow and moments later she removes the water and the cuts are no longer there.

“Thanks love,” Allison says and gives Dan a kiss on her cheek before getting up.

At their side, Matt is healing the cut Aaron has suffered on his cheek. “Nicely done,” Dan praises him when he finishes, which grants her a bright smile from Matt. Dan turns towards Neil after a moment. “We're starting on your waterbending today, so you better rest.”

Neil blinks twice at her. They haven’t spoken about it on the way here but now that they all know that he’s the avatar and it’s clear that he hasn’t mastered all the elements Dan wants to help him. “Thank you,” he tells her, Dan is a great master and he can’t wait to start learning waterbending with her.

Neil gets up and moves to find a spot to put his sleeping bag. He dreams of Lola finding them, and returning him to his father. He wakes up with a cold sweat not long after, and decides to just lay there and wait for the others to wake up.

A few hours later, when the sun is shining right above their heads, the others begin to stir awake. They sit in a circle and divide the food that they brought from the farm. After they’re done eating Neil takes a deep breath and tells them about his past, not in so many details as he told Andrew, but if he’s putting all of them at risk he figures they deserve to know why. Once he’s done talking, he can’t deal with their looks of horror and pity for his troubled past so he gets up and walks to the small river near their camp.

Dan walks up to him after a long while. She sits by his side and they both stare at the water for a moment. “How about we start your waterbending training?” she suggests.

“Sounds good,” Neil replies. Anything that keeps his mind busy is good. “Where do we start?”

They get up and walk closer to the water. Dan stops, facing the water with her arms pointing in front of them and one leg positioned in front of the other, so Neil copies her stance. “Let's start with a simple move of just moving the water,” Dan starts, “you push,” she moves her arms forward, “and pull the water,” and as Dan moves her arms back and forth, the water moves with her.

Neil studies how she’s moving for a moment, and tries to mimic the fluid movement of her arms and legs. It’s nothing like firebending, where you need precision and sureness to land a punch exactly how you want it. “Like this?”

“Relax your shoulders a bit more, your movements are too stiff,” Dan instructs. “Keep practicing, it’s normal if you don’t get it right away.”

Neil continues to practice the movement with no luck. “I don’t get it, I caught on to airbending pretty quickly,”

“Yeah, but air is not the opposite element to fire, so I think it’s expected that you struggle a little with water.”

“Oh, right,” Neil frowns at the water. What if he doesn’t manage to learn waterbending quickly? He doesn’t have months to practice and be patient. He asks Dan to show him the move again and keeps doing it.

“Remember to focus on the movement of the water, on the push and pull of the water beating at the rocks. On the constant movement of the water going back and forth.”

Neil takes a deep breath and continues, and this time he doesn’t focus on his body; he’s done this movement so many times just now that he’s sure that he got it. He solely focuses on the water and after a while he feels the push and pull of the water calling to him. And when he moves his arms again, the water moves with him.

Dan continues to teach him a few more simple movements and after a while they join the others to continue their journey. They walk until night settles in and make camp for the night near a lake.

Next morning, Dan takes him into the lake and begins to show him how to use water to shield himself and to turn water into ice. She uses waterbending to create an ice platform for them to stay in the middle of the lake and Neil thinks that it’s a very useful thing to learn and really enjoys learning how to do it himself.

Matt catches some fish for their lunch and once he has enough for everyone he calls them back to shore. Neil makes a fire and everyones begins to sit around the fire while they wait for the food to be ready.

“Congratulations Neil,” Matt says grinning, “you’re now at the level of a ten year old waterbender.”

“Just give him a few more days and he’ll be better than you,” Nicky mocks him.

“He has a great teacher,” Matt admits. Dan rolls her eyes and sits next to him,“But I don’t think so,” Matt adds and puts an arm around Dan to bring her closer.

Neil sits down at Andrew’s side and notices the deep dark circles around his eyes and frowns. Has Andrew not been sleeping? He’s always the last one to get up in the morning. Neil decides not to comment on it, and eats in silence listening to everyone talking around him.

That night, Neil can’t fall asleep. He sits up against a tree, takes a sip of water to clear his mind, and looks around at everyone sleeping near him, and that’s when he notices that Andrew is missing. He hasn’t seen Andrew since lunch. Nicky told him that Andrew would be back soon, and didn’t seem too bothered by it, but it bothered Neil. What if Andrew had been captured? Or injured? And they were not even searching for him? Unsure on what to do, Neil gets up and walks to the lake and sits there. He looks at the reflection of the moon on the lake and wonders where Andrew could be.

Since he can’t sleep, he decides to practice his airbending. He’s been focused on learning waterbending but he’s far from mastering airbending either. He practices climbing the trees with only air to lift him up and easily uses air to jump from one tree to another. He’s halfway up a pine tree when he spots a silhouette further down the lake. He moves quickly and quietly between the trees to get closer and try to understand who it is. He immediately relaxes when the light from the moon reveals that it’s Andrew calmly walking towards their camp.

He jumps to a closer tree and drops to the floor at Andrew’s side. In a second he’s being thrown over in the air. As he falls, another rock comes his way, he manages to shove it to the side with a fire punch and then uses air to ease his descent to the floor.

Andrew is about to attack again, rock suspended in the air when he seems to recognize him. “Neil?”

“Yeah,” Neil pants, relaxing his stance.

Andrew drops the rock to the floor. “What are you doing here alone?”

“Practicing.”

“I don’t know why I even asked,” Andrew mutters and begins to walk. “Next time, don’t fucking jump next to me,” he points out.

Neil begins to walk at his side. “Why aren't you sleeping?”

“I've been checking our surroundings.”

“Alone?” Neil asks, “what if you find them?”

“I fight them.”

“You can't fight them all.” When Andrew doesn’t answer Neil stops. “Andrew,” he calls and Andrew pauses a step in front of him. “She won't hesitate to kill you,” he tells him.

Andrew turns around to face him. “Then, it'll be a matter of who can kill the other first.”

“But that's the thing, she won't be alone, her soldiers will attack too.” Andrew’s good but he would be easily outnumbered. “You're trying to protect everyone but who's going to protect your back?”

Andrew begins to walk away again. “I don't need anyone to protect me.”

“Let me go with you then,” Neil tries to reason and follows him, “if we find her, I'll kill her myself.”

“There's no point, I've already checked and I can't feel anyone near us.”

“How do you do that?” He never really figured out how Andrew always knew where he was.

“If I focus, I can feel the vibrations on the earth,” Andrew begins to explain, “and with it I can sense where people and objects are.”

“In that case, how did you not know where I was just moments ago?”

“If you had been on the ground I would've known but you jumped from the trees. That takes a little more concentration and I had just checked this area not too long ago. I was just going back to camp,” Andrew explains.

“That's still really useful,” Neil comments. Andrew hums. Maybe one day he’ll be able to learn that. Maybe... If he stays alive long enough. “Is that a common skill of an earthbender?” He had never heard of it.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s like a firebender controlling lightning or a waterbender healing. Not everyone is able to master it.”

“But those things can be taught.”

“To a point, yes,” Andrew agrees, “I tried to teach Erik how to do it, but he didn’t really get much further than the basics.”

They continue to walk in silence for a few minutes. “My father wanted me to learn to control lightning,” Neil shares.

“Did you?”

“No, I ran away before I started lessons with the Ravens.”

Andrew pauses for a second at that information and continues to walk when Neil is at his side. They walk the rest of the way to camp in comfortable silence.

***

The following day they reach the base of the mountain in the afternoon and decide to make camp for the night. Neil follows Dan and Matt to the river so they can continue to train waterbending.

They’ve been practicing for a while, Neil guides once again the blob of water back to Dan and it’s in that moment that in the corner of his eye he notices Andrew walking down the path to the river where they are and all of a sudden Neil’s hit right on the chest and falls backwards.

“What are you looking at? Focus!” she shouts.

Neil, annoyed at himself and slightly embarrassed for getting distracted, guides the water back at Dan with so much force that he knocks Dan into the water.

Surprised, Dan quickly gets back on her feet and stares at him for a moment. “That was good,” she praises him and then throws it back at Neil again who blocks it instead with fire, creating steam all around him.

“Don’t use the other elements!” Dan shouts at him.

They continue to train for a while with Andrew watching them. Neil tries to pay him no attention and focuses on practicing waterbending. At the end of the day he feels good about his progress, he can already use water to shield himself, and throw spears of ice to attack. Dan is also impressed by his progress and tells him that at their next stop they can practice more advanced techniques.

***

They start to move up in the mountain to be able to cross it and the temperature starts to drop the higher they get. Matt and Dan don't seem to be bothered by it but it leaves everyone else in a bad mood. Hours later, Dan tells them to stop and start to make camp for the night.

“How are you not cold?” Allison asks as she gets closer to the fire Neil just created.

“I use my bending to control my body temperature,” Neil explains.

“Well, aren't you lucky,” she mutters.

Nicky stops at her side, rubbing his hands. “Can you make it bigger? I can't feel my toes.”

“Sure,” Neil focuses on the fire and makes it stronger.

“Finally some warmth, damn I could kiss you right now!” Nicky says, turning to Neil, “Do you want a kiss?” he asks wiggling his eyebrows, “because if you do, you need to get closer because I'm not moving from this spot.”

Allison snorts. “Leave him alone, Nicky”

“I was just offering.”

Not long after they finish eating, everyone starts to settle in around the fire, preparing to get some sleep, and exhausted from the journey they fell asleep pretty quickly. Neil, despite feeling quite tired, can't seem to fall asleep. Later, when he thinks everyone is already asleep, he hears someone getting up so Neil turns to the side to see who it is.

Neil watches Andrew move his sleeping bag as close to the dying fire as he dares. He knows that Andrew doesn’t like the cold, he’s just not vocal about it like the others. Neil bites his lip for a moment before deciding to get up and move his things to Andrew's side. He knows that Andrew won't ask but Neil can move closer to him for the heat, it's the least he can do, they're all here because of him, he reasons.

He can feel Andrew follow him with his gaze as he lays down at his side. “What do you think you're doing?” Andrew whispers.

“You're cold,” Neil states, and makes his temperature rise to a point that he knows that Andrew can feel it, “I can help.”

Andrew arches an eyebrow.

“I can leave if you want.”

“Just be quiet,” Andrew mutters and Neil fights the urge to grin. They contemplate the stars above them for a while. Neil isn’t sure when Andrew falls asleep but at some point he hears a shift in his breathing that indicates to him that Andrew’s sleeping and Neil eventually falls asleep too.

***

The following day they continue to climb further into the mountain. Neil notices that their pace is slowing down, they all feel exhausted from the journey, even Nicky seems to have lost his will to talk while they walk, focusing instead on where he puts his feet.

Neil walks besides Andrew as they climb the mountain and the higher they get he notices that Andrew begins to look more and more tense. At one point he catches Andrew glancing at the bottom of the mountain with distrust, and it suddenly hits Neil that Andrew might be afraid of heights.

When the sun begins to set they reach the top that allows them to cross and they decide to stop and make camp for the night. They're as high as they need to be able to cross and from here it’s almost a straight line to the bay. Neil looks around, he can already see the vast body of water in the distance, they’re almost there, the harder part was climbing the mountain.

The wind is unforgiving at such a height so in an attempt to shield them from the wind Andrew, with his bending, makes small tents for them to sleep in.

Andrew motions for Neil to follow him to the tent he has built. He can feel more than one pair of eyes on his back as he follows Andrew but he doesn’t really care what the others think this could mean. Neil follows Andrew inside and lays down next to Andrew. He’s aware that Andrew doesn't like to be touched so he tries to put as much space between them, even though it’s almost impossible in such a small space. Then, Andrew closes most of the entrance so that the cold wind is mostly blocked.

Neil lights a small flame on his palm to give them some light and watches as Andrew pulls his sleeping bag over his head until Neil can only see his eyes. “Can I have a turn?” Neil asks.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you afraid of heights?” Andrew stills and stares at Neil, “Andrew, you can’t be,” Neil didn’t really imagine that Andrew was afraid of anything until today.

“What if I am.”

“But you’re always throwing yourself into the air.”

“So?” Andrew pauses, “Just because I’m afraid of heights it doesn’t mean that I let it control me.” Andrew closes his eyes after a moment, a clear indication that he doesn’t want to talk about it more so Neil lets his flame die.

Neil thinks about what Andrew just said to him until he falls asleep. He thinks about the avatar state and all his power. The power that all his countless past lives managed to control. If only there’s a way for him to talk to one of the previous avatars and ask for advice. According to all the books he is able to do it, somehow. If he can figure out a way to talk to the avatar prior to him, avatar Kyoshi, maybe he can figure out how to use that power and instead of letting the avatar state control him, he could control it.

***

When they start to climb down the mountain, the sight of the bay gives them renewed strength and they manage to reach the small town in the middle of the afternoon. Renee and Allison go to the town alone to sell their ostrich horses and to try to find a small ship that’s not being used for them to steal. While they wait for the girls to return, Neil uses the time to practice waterbending with Matt.

They return a couple hours later, with food for their journey and the information that a small older ship is in the dock for some repairs so they’re confident that no one will be on it at night.

“What kind of repairs?” Aaron asks.

“It has hit a reef so there’s a hole on the side,” Renee explains.

“So it’s useless?”

“Not useless,” Dan cuts in. “You seem to be forgetting that there’s three waterbenders here.”

“Yeah, nothing a little ice won’t fix,” Matt adds.

They wait for night to settle in to sneak into the port and pass the only guard on sight. As predicted by Renee and Allison there’s no one on the small ship when they enter and inspect the ship. Dan creates a fog to give them cover while Matt and Neil go below deck to find the hole to patch it up. It’s not a big hole and some work has started to be done to fix it but Matt kicks the temporary boards into the ocean and sends the water out of the ship. Neil is quick to make a good block of ice around the area to prevent the water from coming in.

Matt nods appreciatively. “Not bad, you’re getting the hang of it.”

“Thanks, Matt. You’re a great teacher too, you know.”

“Aw man, don’t say things like that, you’re going to make me blush.”

Neil without knowing what to say turns around. “Come on, Dan is waiting for us to move this thing.”

They climb the stairs and join her at the front of the ship. The three of them begin to bend the water and quickly they raise the water level for the ship to be easier to maneuver. And then they send the ship forward, away from the dock as fast as they can.

The whole journey they keep a thick fog around them and don’t light any lamps for anyone not to notice them from further away. On the first day they see two other ships in the distance but Dan makes the fog so thick that it’s even hard for them to see 30 feet in front of their own ship.

“You know, now would be the perfect opportunity for us to witness the avatar state. We could be there by morning,” Nicky says looking hopeful at Neil.

Neil looks away to the sea. If only it was that simple. “I can’t--I can’t access that power.”

“You’ve never used it before?”

“I have.”

“How was it?” Allison asks.

“Destructive,” Neil answers and gets up. He walks away from everyone to the other side of the small ship.

He grabs the rail and watches the moon reflected on the sea in front of him. Andrew stops at his side. “I wish I could tap into that power. They make it sound so easy.”

“The textbooks make it sound that all the avatar has to do is want to access it, and it’s there for him.”

He takes a moment and asks. “What if I don’t want to?”

Andrew tilts his head to study him. “Maybe that’s your problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the avatar, you’re supposed to use it, not fight it.”

***

Two days pass with nothing but water surrounding them. Neil’s arms ache and Dan has been healing him after a couple of hours of waterbending. The sun begins to rise and an island becomes visible on the horizon.

“We’re getting really close now,” Allison informs them. They pass a couple of islands that to Neil all look the same but Allison recognizes the area and starts to give them directions to direct the ship. At some point, Allison appears at his side and points into the distance. “There!” she shouts, “that’s the one.”

They move the ship as fast as they can towards the island.

Neil watches more islands appear in the distance and remembers when he crossed the sea with his mother years ago to escape his father when he discovered he was the avatar. Suddenly, he remembers that in one of the islands there’s a temple dedicated to the avatar, maybe if he goes there he’ll have a chance at figuring out how to talk to avatar Kyoshi. It’s been years since he’s been in the fire nation, but now that he’s back there’s no more running away. No more running from his father and from his powers.

#avatar!au #avatar!neil #atla!au #neil josten #andrew minyard #myfic #tfc #fanfic #andreil

5 notes · View notes

broadwaybaggins · 5 years ago

Text

Mansion House Murder Party, Chapter 4

I rewrote this three times. If I’ve made any glaring errors, please message me and I will fix them!

Chapter 1 by @mercurygray Chapter 2 by @jomiddlemarch Chapter 3 by @fericita-s

And many many thanks to @jamesknoxpolka and @mercurygray for beta-ing, and @jomiddlemarch for consulting!

______________________________________

Of course the bloody train was late. Anne shouldn’t have expected anything less upon her return to Mansion House. Nothing in the last ten years had worked out the way she had thought it would, so why should the return journey be any different?

Her fingers itched to reach into her carpetbag and remove the flask that she had stashed there--she couldn’t quite give up that old habit, no matter how hard she tried--but she forced them to remain still in her lap. The last thing she needed was to empty her reserves before she even crossed the threshold of the hotel! She busied herself with reaching for the letter that had summoned her instead, the creases soft with repeated readings, the ink blurred in places. She had it memorized by now, but her eyes skimmed the contents anyway. The letter had been a shock--she did not, as a rule, keep contact with many people from the war. Byron’s sporadic letters had long since been burned. She had received word of Emma Green’s pending nuptials, and when the first Foster boy had been born. The other letters, bearing any news of her former colleagues, were few and far between. Her most regular correspondent in the years following the war had been Bridget Brannan, and when the letter in her hand had arrived, she had stared at it for several minutes without blinking, half-expecting it to disappear before her eyes. She hadn’t even opened it for several days, leaving it on the hall table to stare at her accusingly every time she walked past. Finally, she had been unable to resist the siren call.

New York had bid her farewell with ominous dark clouds and a driving, freezing rain that Anne hoped wasn’t a harbinger of the journey to come. The weather had lightened as the train sped south, but the feeling of foreboding had not left Anne. She folded up the letter and stuffed it back into her bag, both wishing that the journey would go faster and never come to an end at all. Her heart raced like a simpering schoolgirl’s, and her palms were starting to sweat. Anne hated this feeling, the feeling of not being in control of the situation, of not knowing exactly what she was walking into.

Getting on the train had been a mistake. Not throwing that wretched letter directly into the fire where it belonged had been a mistake.

“Oh, snap out of it, Hastings,” she scolded herself in a whisper. It was a hotel she was going to be walking into, not a lion’s den. These people, they used to be your...

Friends was not quite the right word. Anne wasn’t sure the right word existed to describe her relationships with Mary Phinney and Jedediah Foster, with Emma Green and Bridget Brannan and the lot of them. They had been, in equal measure, rivals and enemies and nuisances and, yes, friends, and maybe even...Miss Green would have been quick to use the word family, but Anne was reluctant. Still, perhaps she was being ridiculous. Surely it couldn’t be nearly as bad as she feared.

Oh Anne, if you truly believe that, then you’ve learned nothing in the past ten years.

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

Any attempt to sleep on the train was futile, at best. When they finally reached Alexandria, Anne’s back was aching something fierce and there was a pain in her jaw from clenching it the last hundred miles. She made it off the train as night was falling, accidentally over-tipping the hapless porter who helped her with her luggage. Oh well. Plenty more where that came from, she decided. At least that was one thing from the last ten years that Anne did not regret.

Mansion House Hotel, when she finally arrived, stood tall and imposing in the fading light. The air was thick with humidity and dust and the cloying smell of magnolia blossoms. Anne stood there for a moment after the carriage pulled away, staring up at the structure that had been her home throughout the long years of the war. If she squinted, would she still be able to see the ghostly figures of so long ago? The phantoms, not just of dead soldiers but of orderlies, doctors, nurses too, who had once lived and worked within these walls? If Anne stood still as a statue, would she see the ghost of who she used to be? Would she want to?

And what other ghosts were within these walls? Who would she encounter when she walked through the doors? She thought of Emma, married all these years to--what the blazes was his name again? She thought of Henry, teaching at some university, no doubt withering away behind piles of dusty books and trying to bury his long-lost love for the former Miss Green. She thought of Byron--and just as easily pushed the thought away. He would not be joining this little soiree, of that she had no doubt. He was long gone, gone for her at least, far off in the wilds of California, and good riddance to bad rubbish, and all that.

Mary and Jed Foster. Would they be there? Anne was almost certain that they would. And Emma’s sister, the frothy little thing with her head full of blonde curls and--

A shout from down the street startled Anne from her thoughts, and she shook her head as if that alone would be enough to quell her anxiety. Enough dithering at the door, she decided. She straightened her back--ignoring the way it sent a pang all the way down her spine, damn the seats on that train--adjusted her grip on her bag, and walked up to the door.

Her knock was met with nothing but silence, and she stood there a moment in confusion. Had she somehow made a mistake? Was the hotel vacant after all? No, not possible--lamps were lit inside and she could make out the faint sound of voices. She tried the handle, the brass polished to a gleam where it had once been dull and bloodstained, and found it unlocked. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Part of her wanted to explore--in spite of herself, she was curious as to what sort of transformation Mansion House had endured in the years since the war. But she found herself following the sound of the voices, past the staircase--how many times had she climbed those stairs!--to the main parlor. The many beds that had once littered the room were gone now, replaced by new-looking furniture that no doubt came from the Green’s own factory. And there, assembled like pieces on a chessboard, were the very faces she had come to see.

There was Alice Green, who no doubt fancied herself the queen in a sea of pawns. Henry Hopkins, standing nearby, fidgeting slightly with his glasses as he adjusted their position on the bridge of his nose-- he was a Knight or a Rook. Jedediah Foster, a little more grey than she remembered, but his face was unmistakable--a bishop, perhaps...

A shout of terror pulled Anne out of her reverie. She looked up just in time to see a man run in--his face was familiar to her, that hapless medical student, whatever his name had been. "He’s dead!” he cried out before his eyes rolled back dramatically and he crumpled to the floor in a dead faint. Anne stared at him a moment, noting his bloodstained hands, his disheveled clothes, the beginnings of what would no doubt become a sizeable bump on his head.

Well, that’s one way to begin the evening, I suppose.

No one seemed to have noticed Anne yet--the dramatic entrance of Mr. What’s-his-name had stolen her moment away. She gently sat her bags down on the floor, hoping to make as little noise as possible. As she straightened up and smoothed the skirts of her traveling gown, Emma Green sprang into action. The man standing beside her--the husband, no doubt--reached for her instinctively, trying to pull her back, but Emma was already kneeling beside the poor soul on the floor. Anne couldn’t help but smile at that, the sight of a nurse’s instincts taking over. She’d had her doubts about this one, in the beginning, but Emma Green had proven her wrong time and time again. “Emma,” her husband hissed, his mouth twisting into an ugly grimace. No doubt he was embarrassed at her actions, or else irritated that her dress would be soiled by the blood. Anne instantly decided that she disliked him. “Emma, for God’s sake, get up off the floor.”

“A pillow for his head, please!” she called out to no one in particular, ignoring him completely. In response, he made a noise at the back of his throat that some might have called a sigh and retreated to a corner to brood in silence.

There was someone, however, who heeded Emma’s call, reaching for a pillow off of the nearest settee. Anne hadn’t noticed her a first, hidden as she had been behind Doctor Foster, who was now a flurry of motion as he raced off towards the kitchen to investigate. “Here,” Mary said softly, handing the pillow over as quickly as she could manage. She moved slower than Anne had ever seen her, her posture more stooped, a slight tremor in her movements that hadn’t been there during the war. Anne watched for for a moment, unsure of what to dot. This, this changed Mary Phinney, had not been something that she had expected.

Emma accepted the pillow with a smile but never took her focus off of her patient, slipping it beneath his head and feeling his neck for a pulse. “Weak, but steady. He’s had a good fright, but he’ll be all right.”

There was a pause, and then Alice Green spoke. “Oh, thank the Lord,” she whispered. Anne couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the delay in her reaction. Someone, it seemed, had not changed at all since the war. It would have been a comfort if the entire situation wasn’t so...unsettling.

Anne decided it was time to announce herself rather than wait for someone to notice her. “My my, I see the party has started without me,” she said loudly, making half a dozen heads swivel towards her. She watched Mary’s eyes widen as she took in the sight of her, and she almost smiled.

“Anne. You came.” Was that relief in her voice?

“Well, of course I did,” Anne said briskly. “I was invited, after all.”

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

I tag @jamesknoxpolka! You’re it!

#Mercy Street #Mercy street round robin #Mansion House Murder #Mercy Street fanfiction #Anne Hastings #up to no good? Read on to find out

9 notes · View notes

twohearts-hs · 6 years ago

Text

‘Alpha’ - Shawn Mendes Werewolf AU

Words: 5,062

Pairing: Alpha!Shawn Mendes & Alpha!(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Warnings: Swearing

|| Masterlist in bio ||

Her breath was hot and quick. The woods around her went by fast as she sped up. This was normal for her, the running, the hiding. It has been like that for years, ever since she left her pack.

The idea of being an alpha was welcoming, but controlling people and having them trust you were not. Trust was never her friend. It was something that always failed Y/N, therefore she tried to escape it every chance she got.

British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan...those were some provinces she had travelled through. Although, each one was never a breeze...a lone wolf causing troubles for the native packs, but a lone alpha wolf causes chaos. For the past couple of years, she went in and got out as fast as possible.

Canada was Y/N’s home. It had been since she was born, yet any pack wasn’t. Therefore she was glad when she found out that she’s an alpha... it was easy to survive...easier than an Omega.

Trees were blurred with the natural green, the morning dew filled her nose. It was comforting, which wasn’t a feeling Y/N had often. Ontario was different than all the other provinces. Alberta was too dry and farm-filled, British Columbia had way too many packs that caused way too many wars, Manitoba was too flat, but Ontario was starting to feel right. Five years on the run, and possibly a small town could be home.

Y/N hasn’t turned back to her human form in a while. That form didn’t produce benefits, instead only making her slower. The only thing she could remember from that form was herself at sixteen. She noticed how her wolf form changed with age, becoming fuller and curvier. But, the grey wolf was more of who she was than her human form ever could be. Y/N ’s human shape was just a stupid plus; honestly, it did nothing.

Y/N kept running, watching the path in front of her, trying her best to ignore the rumbling in her stomach and the fatigue serving it. She just had to make it to Lake Erie, then she could rest. The little side of her (the weak side, as she called it) told her to take a rest; though, she ignored it. Y/N needed to get to the Great Lakes, as they were a safe haven; a public land. No pack was allowed to conquer or own it. It was her ticket to freedom and peace.

She felt a sudden tug and paused for a moment, a scent came upon her nose. This made her stop in her tracks, catching her breath and noticing the prominent dehydration, the fatigue, the headache, and the major dizziness. Stopping was a mistake, it allowed for her physical exhaustion to set in, as blocking it was the only thing keeping you going.

The scent became stronger. Y/N was not in a mood for another pack fight, as the scars from the last were still open. The exhaustion started drowning her, and she began seeing black dots everywhere. A low growling came behind her. ‘Shit’ is the only thing that came to her mind.

“She’s an alpha,” Brian said to Shawn as they watched the grey wolf laid out on the kitchen table atop several towels.

“So,” Shawn asked raising his eyebrows, crossing his arms. Brian gave him a look.

“Shawn, she has to have a pack around here too, meaning there is a new pack in our territory.” Shawn just let his friend keep going on and on.

“No,” he shook his head and watched the female sleep.

“What?” The beta said as he looked at his friend with his arms crossed.

“Look at the wounds on her skin and the lack of nutrition. She’s by herself, dude.” Geoff walked in, seeing the grey wolf on their kitchen table.

“I was gone for one hour. What’s happening? Why do we have a wolf on the dining room table? She’s making it fucking dirty!” Shawn just looked at her, not knowing how to deal with this.

All he knew was that the wolf was a female, she was an alpha, and she was alone. He found the circumstances odd. He wanted to take care of her and comfort her, which was also odd because he had no idea who she was. Shawn was indeed beginning to empathize her.

“An odd scent came to me, and we checked it out. Found her.” Shawn said to Geoff, stern and still staring at the wolf.

“So, what are we going to do?”

“Wait till she wakes up, ask questions and let her be on her way.” Shawn hadn’t moved an inch. He stood in the same position he was in ten minutes ago, his arms crossed and legs keeping his body sturdy. He hadn’t looked over at Geoff or Brian. He just kept looking at her. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“But, she’s an alpha.”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders, “She has no pack.” He looked over to his friends, something he hadn’t done since she’d arrived.

“Therefore she could be very dangerous,” Brian put in.

“Nope,” Shawn shook his head, “go grab a glass of water for her, and grab me a damp cloth, she’s beginning to wake up.”

Voices. That was all that she could hear, voices, somewhat muffled and indistinguishable. Y/N’s eyes fluttered, revealing a bright light. Then everything became clear.

A window. There was a window in front of her. She wanted to move, but she couldn’t. She tried to get up quickly, but an arm pushed her back down.

“You’re too weak.” A male voice told her.

‘Fuck, a pack,’ she thought. ‘No, no, no, no, no’, she tried rising again, but couldn’t, so she began growling, bearing her fangs and trying to provoke fear. And yet, the arm kept her locked in. She couldn’t see the male’s face or the others around him. In theory, she was stuck.

“We are not going to hurt you. I will let go, but you can’t move until I know you are safe. You are extremely dehydrated.”

She wanted to keep going, but she stopped. Y/N was too weak. Her wounds were not healing, she hasn’t eaten in days, and the closest to water she’d consumed was the rainfall two days prior.

Shawn saw her body relax under his hold. He had a feeling (a gut feeling, as one may call it) that he could trust her. So he let go.

Y/N instantly moved up, noticing she was still in her wolf form. She looked around and noticed three males in front of her. The middle one was the alpha and the others being betas. There was an IV in her foreleg, the bag of sickly, clear liquid dangling on a metal pole beside her.

She could tell that they wanted her to shift, but she hasn’t in years. This was who she is now. The alpha raised his eyebrows, trying his best to be dominating, but she didn’t budge. Just stayed there quietly, holding his eye contact.

“Bathroom’s down that hallway to the right. I placed a pair of clothes in there. Change and come back. I have a lot of questions.”

Y/N internally smirked.

Shawn huffed. This was aggravating. He had never had to deal with another alpha besides those from the neighbouring packs. She was a heck of a headache.

Y/N waited for a few seconds.

“Please,” he mouthed. His plea prompted her to jump down while groaning a bit from the wounds that were slowly healing and walk towards the bathroom.

Once gone, Brian started laughing. Shawn looked over and was done with the day.

“Shut up or else you’re sleeping outside,” he muttered.

“Yes, sir.” He ceased his laughing, saluting and walking away.

Y/N saw the sweatpants and jumper on top of the toilet. It was now or never. She was stuck. So, she did what you had to do.

Her body had changed significantly. Her breasts were larger, perkier and rounder. Her hips were a perfect ratio to her body type and her hair was very long. Y/N choked on a sob but held her head high. Lake Erie was a few hours away, she needed to fulfil her goal.

“Thanks for the fluids and hospitality, but I should be going,” she said, walking out of the bathroom and back into the main foyer. She saw the alpha standing behind the kitchen counter with both his hands on the marble.

“No, you’re still too weak.” Shawn was surprised by his own answer. Usually, he didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about any other wolf beside those in his pack, but there was something different about her. A comforting feeling, in a way.

“You must be starving. Here’s a sandwich. Eat up and we’ll talk.” Y/N raised her eyebrow and let out a breath.

“I think you know that I won’t listen to you, and you can’t make me. So...,” she let her words linger.

Shawn picked up the hint, “Shawn.”

She nodded her head, “Shawn, I am going to go—”.

“Nope, you’re gonna stay here and eat.” He was right, she hasn’t eaten for a while and the state of her body told him so.

“Fine, but that’s it.”

Shawn nodded and showed the barstool.

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“You don’t need it,” she fired back.

“Well, I should know the name of the person who is eating my food, drinking my fluids, and driving me crazy.” He made a fair point.

“Y/N.”

He mumbled back the name and looked up to her. “So, Y/N, why don’t you have a pack.”

She scoffed. “So we’re just jumping into it, eh?” He nodded.

Y/N shook your head, “It’s none of your business,” she replied, creating a chuckle to come from his mouth.

“But, why are you by yourself?”

She smiled, admiring that he was very caring. Odd for an alpha towards an alpha. “Because I have no pack.”

He laughed. “Right, fair, fair.” He noticed that she was a closed book, “I don’t want you to leave until you are fully rested.”

She stopped chewing and rolled her eyes. “I need to get to Lake Erie by sundown.”

Shawn leaned over. “Why?” He looked her right in the eye and she looked back.

“Because I fucking hate packs,” she whispered, he is so close.

He smirked, “You’re an alpha,” he was inches away.

“No shit Sherlock.”

He smiled, biting his lip.

“I’ll stay...but not for long. This wolf is on the run.” He pulled away and nodding.

“Plus you have really good sandwiches.” He laughed.

“How long will you stay for, Y/N?”

Y/N smirked, loving the cheekiness that was coming out of her, “Until you wake up and notice I am gone.”

He nodded in agreement, “I should introduce to the pack.”

She shook her head, “They won’t like me.” He gave you a questioning look. “I haven’t been by myself for my whole life. I ran a pack once. They don’t like when a random alpha comes in, I’m best by myself.”

“But, you do need to find a few omegas to balance out things. So far you have betas.” He opened his mouth to argue, “I use to run a pack. I know these things”

“You can’t tell me what to do or how to run my pack.” Shawn quickly replied.

“See, twenty minutes in and this is already a mess. I’ll see you around, Shawn.” she got up from the stool, but quickly collapsed.

Shawn was quick on his feet, grabbing her arm and pulling her back up, “You’re still too weak.”

Y/N pushed off of him and began limping away. “I can handle myself. You can’t tell me what to do. See ya.”

Shawn watched her trying her best to head to the door, “You have a bite wound. Let’s check it out.”

Y/N closed your eyes. No pack had ever offered her this kind of help before. She took a few deep breaths in and turned around, “There will be rules. One, you can’t tell me what to do. Two, don’t ask questions. Deal?”

Shawn nodded, so she limped back.

Y/N stood in front of him and looked right at those hazel eyes. Shawn stared back and placed his hands on her hips. He gently picked her up and placed her on the counter in the kitchen.

“I know you just want to help, so please don��t be offended by my actions.”

He nodded, “I’m going to grab some supplies, just stay here please.”

Y/N nodded and began looking around the room, seeing a redhead come walking in.

“You’re not Shawn,” the man said.

She shook her head, “No, I’m not.”

Brian looked confused. The grey wolf wasn’t there anymore, “So? Who are you?”

“I’m the wolf,” he nodded, and slowly began turning away.

“I’m not as dangerous as you think I am.” She pipped. Brian gave a puzzled look. “I may not have a pack, but I don’t like hurting people. I will be out of your hair soon, sorry for the commotion.”

He made a disgruntled noise and walked out of the room just as Shawn entered. He carried with him a first aid box, whistling with a small grin on his face. She smiled back, liking to see someone being so happy. It has been a while since she’d witnessed happiness, but when she did witness it she remembered just how contagious the feeling could be.

“Maybe you should introduce me to the pack. The redhead beta was a little confused,” she whispered

“Oh, Brian? Yeah, he’s a special one.” He chuckled, beginning to open the box.

Y/N laughed, which brought Shawn to admire it in a way. Her laugh made him think of honey, just like her voice. He looked at her, not knowing how to approach the situation, but she got the hint, pulling the sweatpants off, and leaving her in the boxer briefs that he gave her. Shawn looked at the scrapes, cuts, and bruises on her body. One from the higher thigh was especially bad and continued up and under the briefs. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think of Y/N being hurt. He opened the box and got to work, whistling as he went, hearing the occasional groans from her.

“I got it from a pack fight,” she told him out of the blue, as he began cleaning up the bite mark.

“Where?”

“Saskatchewan.”

He pitied Y/N for having this open wound since Saskatchewan. For months it had been there, as evident from the dirt and debris, but he was confused with the lack of infection.

“Turns out no one likes a wandering alpha wolf.” She was trying to crack jokes, but it just brought more pain for him.

She watched him as he worked hard on the open wound. He was pretty, she could say - and very caring. It brought pain for her to discuss her past. Remembering it was something she never enjoyed. It was not something that she wanted to reminded of; the fighting, lost, and constant pain.

“What was your pack like?” Shawn asked out of nowhere. He was in the kitchen, cleaning the rag that he used on her to clean her wounds.

“What time are we talking about? The beginning, the end?”

He gave her a puzzled look, “Tell me about the good times. Tell me what your happy was.”

She looked at him, his hazel eyes contacting with hers, “I was raised in British Columbia. I was the only female alpha. Lucky for me, my father was pack alpha, so I was automatically next in line to run when he retired. The West is very serious with other packs, treaties, property...hierarchy,” she told him, “it was too much for me. Too many people, too many lives under my wing. I like your pack so far; small, close, content. It’s comforting to see a pack run like this.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he smiled, “you’re all done. You look like one big mummy, eh? With all the bandages?” She laughed. “Though you did hit your head pretty hard, so as your nurse for the day, I think you need to stay here longer.”

Y/N gave a shy smile, considering the request. Although Lake Erie did sound really nice, there was no harm in staying with Shawn and his pack for a while, right?

“Ok, but I need to be introduced to everyone, and I need to stay as far away from drama and pack shit, or else my natural alpha self will shine.” He smiled. It was really big, and she found it beautiful.

“You won’t regret it,” he said.

Y/N jumped down off the counter, at first a little tipsy, but eventually figuring out her natural balance. Shawn walked down the hallway to the living room, her following at his side. The room contained a large sectional couch that took up most of the space. Sitting on the couch were five men in seemingly deep discussion. The discussion seized to silence when you and Shawn entered.

“So, Y/N, this is Brian, Geoff, Alex, Ben, and Tyler.”

She was received with multiple small smiles and a few greetings, though she could see some suspicion remaining in their looks.

Y/N scanned the boys and smiled, and leaned over to Shawn, “All betas.”

He looked over and raised his eyebrows. “Church and State,” he mumbled, then, louder, “Your room is upstairs.”

Mumbles were coming from downstairs. Y/N opened the door to the nice guest room, and stood in the doorway, straining to hear everything that the people downstairs were saying.

“She’s an alpha, Shawn,” a new voice said. She walked out and began getting closer to the staircase, staying hidden at the top.

“So?”

“Packless alphas coming and intruding on a different pack means shit’s gonna happen. They either take over a pack or bring several mysterious murders with them. Alphas need a pack. She’s dangerous.”

“No, she isn't. Y/N is not dangerous. We haven’t had a murderous Alpha in decades, not since the case of-”

“Not yet at least. Get her out, Shawn!”

It had been two days of living in Shawn’s pack. It was nice, she would say. Although, the only nice part was Shawn himself. Y/N knew the others didn’t have the same amount of love and kindness Shawn had for her. She could feel the wandering eyes and whispers. It was something she hated. Therefore, action had to be taken.

Y/N gathered herself, took the blanket that was wrapped around her body, and went down the stairs. They continued the conversation in front of her, the only person not speaking being Shawn. He watched her walk around the kitchen to grab a water.

“Love the nice comments, guys,” Y/N mumbled, placing the cup under the tap. They all stared wide-eyed, “And don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just had to get the doctor’s words to say so.”

“Y/N, you have to understand-”

“Oh I do, Alex. I totally understand. But what you don’t understand is the fact that you’re a beta and I’m an alpha. I can make you quiver at my words, beg at my actions, and make you scared with just a look,” she told him with a growl to her words. Y/N’s eyes changed colour, and she stared him down. The rapid heartbeat was music to her ears; he was scared, “It is not nice to talk about someone so rudely, especially when that someone is more powerful than you. Or, is a guest to your alpha.”

Shawn watched the whole thing. The way she made Alex quiver simply with her words made him feel something. Anger? Or Inspiration? It was something though. She was holding something back from Shawn about who she was, and he needed to find out soon.

“She’s right, Alex. You’re in my pack, so give me the respect I deserve,” Shawn told him. Alex gave a shocked look.

“So you’re on her team, huh? Her over your pack. Great leadership skills. Just you wait. She’s gonna take over and leave you for the dead.” Alex said back.

Y/N watched the two pups fight, fangs out and extremely close to one another. Internally she was laughing.

“You better watch your words, Alex. Do you want to be packless?”

The growling began and Y/N scoffed.

“For goodness sake, you two. This is not the time to have a petty fight. I’m gonna go to bed, and tomorrow I won’t be here. Sorry to cause such a problem.”

Shawn noticed the change of demeanour with her, and instantly the fangs disappeared.

“Get rid of her, or else all of us will do it ourselves,” Ben said.

Shawn shook his head, “Do it and you’ll all be left for the dead,” he mumbled.

Y/N ran upstairs, the atmosphere becoming too much for her. Tears came down her face. She felt like she caused this; she ruined another good pack. It was all her fault. Y/N’s sobs were strong, chokes coming out every so often.

Shawn leaned against the door and he heard her. He felt it. He felt all the pain she was feeling.

“Y/N?” He began.

He heard a bang against the door, feeling the radiation of heat from her. She sat against the door, as did Shawn.

“They’re right. I need to get to Lake Erie, or else I will be endangering you all.”

Shawn shook his head, “You’ve been alone for how long? Three years? I think you’re past the dangerous part.” He told her, though she shook her head.

“Three years it took for my dad to be dangerous,” she mumbled.

Y/N stood up abruptly, and Shawn followed. The door clicked open, revealing a red-faced and mucky teared Y/N.

“Hi,” she mumbled.

Shawn walked in and closed the door. “I’m here for you, Y/N.” He sat on the bed and she followed; he grabbed her hands in his. “It is possible for two alphas to be in the same pack, but I need you to tell me everything you are comfortable with telling me because I know that there’s a lot you’re hiding. However, none of that will change how I perceive you, because I am here for you.”

She nodded, fumbling with his fingers, “I was part of North America’s biggest pack. I was raised in it and was heiress as the next Alpha. I wasn’t part of a family, though. It was like a cult, and I just wanted to escape. I wanted more in life.

“My father doesn’t believe in mates. I was in an arranged marriage planned to bring the best to the pack, so, I ran away. You asked for the good times, there were none.” She whispered the last part, “Thank you for being the most caring person I have ever met in my life.”

He looked at her broken state, “Everyone needs a time to let it all out.” He told her, twirling a piece of hair and placing it back behind her ear, cupping her cheek in that action.

“Now, tell me something about you,” she said, looking up and trying to act all brave.

He smiled and just kept playing with her hair, “Not much to my story. Grew up outside of Toronto. I run a pack.” He said and shrugged.

“Um, can you do me a favour? Don’t tell anyone about my past.”

Shawn smiled,“Of course, beautiful.” She quirked up at the nickname. He bit his lip and just watched her as she shook her head.

“Just kiss me already,” she spat out and Shawn looked a little surprised, knowing she could sense the sexual tension between them, “Yes? No? Cause your actions said one thing but now your actions are saying something else.”

All he could do was smile. Nodded his head guiding her face closer to his.

Y/N placed her lips on his, gently. Shawn kept his hand on her cheek, stroking it, while the other was placed on her hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kept their lips sync, creating an indistinguishable pattern.

He was the first to pull away. Heavy breaths were exchanged and silence arose as they stared into each other’s eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek, and slowly caressed it. He just played with her hair.

Y/N fell back and laid on the bed, head on the pillow. She stared at the ceiling, “Do you think we will have another pack war, like as a whole country...East against West?” Shawn turned his head to her.

“Is that your late night thoughts?” She shakes her head, and mumbled a ‘no’, “Do you?”

“People are mean. People are greedy. So give it fifty years,” he nodded his head, and fell back as well, back hitting the mattress.

“My turn, do you believe in mates?” He asked, looking at the white ceiling like her.

“Never seen it occur,” she mumbled out. Shawn bit his lip and let out a puff.

“I do. My mum and dad are, and it is the best thing that can happen between two people.” She looked at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

That was that. They talked for the late hours and stared at the ceiling. Over the course of time, their hands eventually found one another and kept talking while they held hands. It wasn’t secrets that they chatted about, it was simply opinions and things that fascinate them.

“I should go to bed,” he told her, sitting up and Y/N just shook her head quietly.

“Stay,” she said, and so he did, Shawn stayed in her room that night.

A week was all it took for people to pick up on things. She accustomed his smell, and vice versa. The packed realised that she lied to them; she wasn’t gone by morning, actually, she stayed for several mornings.

Y/N and Shawn decided to keep quiet, though they did share a lot of stolen kisses, and shy smiles. But, between that and the mumbles and glares from the rest of the pack, she was ok. Lake Erie was soon forgotten, as Y/N was in heaven with Shawn. Yet, it was only kissing in cuddling, nothing too sexual yet.

“Morning!” She said, with a jump in her step, as she walked passed the boys to make herself a cup of coffee. She grabbed a cup and turned around, noticing they haven’t replied anything yet. “Morning.” She said more firmly, which made the five boys turn around from the table.

“Morning!” They yell, making her chuckle, and walked from the kitchen to the dining table.

Shawn walked in quickly through the front door, trying to find where his pack is. He came into the guys chatting with Y/N, which he found quite odd.

“We have a problem,” the alpha said, making everyone change their attention to him; the whole demeanour changing, “Y/N, what pack did you really come from?”

She swallowed, and looked around the room, trying to find a way to escape. Shawn just looked at her; she had no idea what emotion he was feeling, she couldn’t read his facial expression.

The pack looked at her, making her feel extremely anxious. It was now or never, she had to spit out the name.

“There is a red paint strip on the door. This is a signalment—”

“Of war with the Strongfire clan. I know, Shawn.” He didn’t want to accept the fact that she could be from that pack.

“You’re a Strongfire?” Alex asked, anger within his words.

“I was,” she told them.

Shawn shook his head, he couldn’t accept it. But, it made so much sense. She was so quiet about everything about her, but she wants to run away. She was running away from the pack.

“Who’s your father?” Y/N got up abruptly and stared down the alpha.

“I’m sorry. But, I didn’t want any of your reactions to be this.” So, she did what she did best; she walked out.

“Y/N!” Shawn followed her out of the door of the house he calls home.

“You can’t walk away from everything. You can’t run away.” Y/N turned around, she was in front of the house now.

“It is for the good. I am sorry, Shawn, for fucking everything up,” she mumbled, the evidence of tears on her cheeks.

“You can’t walk away from me. Let alone, walk away from your mate.” He whispered only loud enough for her to hear. She was stunned, as Shawn walked down to her.

“You’re my mate, Y/N.” She stayed quiet for just a few seconds, her mind in a constant commotion of what this news means.

“Mates don’t exist. I am sorry, Shawn.” He shook his head. Mates are real, he has seen them himself; she is just too stubborn to accept it.

“What will take for me to change that?”

“Nothing. Your pack was right, it was best for me to go to Lake Erie. If I stay, we’re gonna have a pack war.” Shawn pushed his hair back in anguish, rustling his curls.

“We are already in a pack war, Y/N.”

#shawn mendes #shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes preferences #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes werewolf au #alpha shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic

703 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

game of survival, chapter ten (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: Going away for vacation for a few days (yaaaay) but won’t have wifi (boooo), so here’s an update before I go! Bean and Writ are the most wonderful friends and betas that a girl could ask for. This fic would not be what it is without the two of them.

(read on ao3) | (find me at plastiquetiaras)

“Fucking relax, girl.”

A’keria’s hand makes soothing motions on Vanessa’s thigh, trying to calm her down from the way that she can’t stop trembling. She wants to smack her hand away in response, because how can she relax?

She can’t.

It’s been approximately two hours since someone tried to kill them. Shot Brooke. Since the police showed up at the cabin, sirens blazing and weapons up and A’keria and Silky tagging along behind them. Since Silky whispered a cover story into her ear before she climbed into the ambulance that held Brooke, watched as her faux serene face became paler and paler.

Two hours ago. She’s been sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room of the trauma wing for two hours after watching a team in scrubs whisk Brooke away on a stretcher, her limp hand falling off the side.

Vanessa has already talked to the detectives covering the case from the same waiting room chair when they came over to sit across from her, notebooks and pens in hand. She explained what happened. Not the full truth, not quite, as that would have done no good for anybody.

But an abridged version concocted by her team, because what else are politicians good at other than twisting truths to create a more palatable story? Brooke, she told the police, she had hired for private security. Vanessa had threats on her life that became more severe as time passed. She had been at her campaign headquarters one night, only to hear news of men being gunned down in her very own apartment. So she went with her bodyguard for a few days to a safer location, until police back in her home district could catch the killers after her. What her and her bodyguard didn’t expect, however, was to be blindsided at their cabin. Truly an unfortunate situation, and Vanessa was oh so lucky that her bodyguard had been amazing at her job, saved her life.

Recounting this version of events to the detectives had felt like poison coming off of her tongue. She’s good at twisting the truth, telling people what they want to hear. But this version doesn’t describe how amazing, how selfless Brooke is. Then again, maybe it’s better not to draw more attention to her in the first place.

Let the police think that Brooke just went into private security after leaving the force.

Silky’s already gotten someone on her team to draft up fake contracts, fake paperwork of Vanessa hiring Brooke as a bodyguard. Her team is nothing if not efficient. She’s glad, because at this moment she’s not sure if she can do anything but sit in the god awful plastic chair and try to keep herself together.

It’s proving to be difficult.

She hasn’t broken down yet which is a miracle in itself, considering how much she’s guided by her emotions, by her heart. But half of her heart has been taken away from her, lying in an operating room under unforgiving lights, surrounded by surgeons and nurses. Vanessa isn’t going to allow herself to feel until one of them comes out to tell her that Brooke is okay.

Schrödinger’s operating room, is what it is.

The door of the waiting room slams when it opens and it makes Vanessa flinch, nearly jump in her seat. She pulls her legs up onto the chair, wanting to curl in on herself. The sweater that A’keria had grabbed for her earlier (one without bloodstains on it, Brooke’s blood) is scratchy on her arms, but she pulls her hands inside the sleeves.

She doesn’t want to look at the blood that is still caked underneath her fingernails and just wouldn’t come off in the hospital bathroom, no matter how much she had scrubbed her fingers raw. It’s a reminder of how Brooke has saved her life yet again, put herself in front of the line of fire that is always meant for Vanessa.

Brooke’s blood is literally and figuratively on Vanessa’s hands. Her doing.

She wants to disappear.

“Kiki and I are going to the cafeteria. Need some food or I’m gonna waste away in this holding room. Want anything?” Silky’s voice feels far away, not like it’s coming from right beside her.

“No. Not hungry.” She wants to go back to eating trail mix with Brooke. That’s all.

“You need to eat something, baby, To keep yourself going.” A’keria’s voice is laced with concern, and it makes Vanessa slide down in her chair just a little bit.

“Go, you two. I’m fine.” Maybe having less voices around her will be helpful, make her brain stop screaming at her.

She doesn’t get a chance to explore such an option, though. No sooner do A’keria and Silky get up, both already on their business phones as they leave the room, does a stranger fall down into the chair beside her.

The first thing that Vanessa notices about the woman is her lankiness as she props up a leg against her chair, limbs folding into the enclosed space as if it’s something that she’s quite used to doing. A detective badge hanging off of a chain catches the light when she lifts up a hand to run it over her buzzed head.

“Who are you?” Is this Yvie? It looks like it could be her, from the descriptions that Brooke has given Vanessa in the past.

“You must be the famous Vanessa.” The woman tilts her head when she looks at her like she’s studying her, and Vanessa has to fight not to flinch against her gaze.

“Who’s asking?” She’s a little on edge, sure, but the woman doesn’t seem bothered.

“Yvie.” So it is her. “I’ve seen you on TV, girl, you’re not hard to recognize.” Yvie laughs then, and it’s the strangest sound that Vanessa’s ever heard in her life. But one that makes her crack a smile nonetheless, her first one since the sirens started blaring in her mind earlier in the day, only to never stop.

Brooke likes her, so she must not be too bad.

“Are you here to question me, too?” She’s not sure what version of events she should give Yvie - the abridged story, or the real thing, considering the fact that Yvie’s been helping Brooke the entire time.

“Nah. You’re going through it, so am I. So is Brooke. Let her heal up first, then we can talk.” Yvie pauses. Smirks. “Besides, I’ve already talked to your campaign manager. Fully on board with this…testimony.”

Damn. A’keria spilled the beans to Yvie already?

Yvie lets out another laugh at Vanessa’s expression, which is doing nothing to hide her reaction. “We’re keeping the story consistent, girl. I’m on your side. Bring your hackles down a little.”

Vanessa bristles, because who is this woman to tell her to calm down? But then Yvie grabs her hand. “Look. I know you’re overwhelmed by all of this shit right now. I get it. She’s gotten through a lot over the years. She may very well get through this, too.”

Vanessa deflates, and can’t help how small her voice comes out in response. “She has to.”

Yvie turns to her, squeezes her hand. “We were real shit starters as detectives together, did you know?”

“Yeah?” Vanessa looks up at Yvie’s question, looks at the woman whose face seems to be travelling back in time, reliving old memories.

“Yeah. Barely experienced enough to have made detective and we stomped into that boys’ club like we owned the place. We wanted to prove that we not only belonged there, but were better than them.”

Vanessa imagines a younger and more fiery detective version of Brooke, stepping on everyone’s toes and not caring in the least because she got her work done and then some.

“We’d have a great time doing the stupidest things to crack cases, make arrests. One time, we were gunning to get into gambling club to find a dangerous perp - the club was known for its exclusivity, hidden in the underbelly of the city. The captain was very much us against doing that, wanted us to wait for a warrant.” She grins. “We very much didn’t listen.”

“Brooke brought in two of the skimpiest dresses I’d ever seen, told me to change into one. We rolled up the the club like we belonged there, like we had less than two braincells but had our respective men who were playing poker inside.” Yvie snorts. “Somehow the bouncers let us in, and we came out with the guy without so much as a gun pulled on us from his bodyguards.”

“Damn.” Vanessa lets out a laugh. She can picture Brooke so well, fearless and acting her little heart out until she got close enough to arrest the guy. “No fear, huh?”

Yvie leans back in her chair. “Memories. It was fun. The two of us were solely responsible for how fast our captain at the time went grey. We gave him so many heart attacks, but also solved cases, so who was he to complain?”

“Y’all seem like you were nightmares. Complete nightmares. I love it.” She wonders how a detective version of Brooke was on the day to day, with less scars and baggage pulling her down, down, down. If she was just as driven, if she was more naive. It’s strange to think about.

Nonetheless, she’s glad that she has her version of Brooke. The one who’s gone through so much, yet continues to be so caring and thoughtful and ready to work through her own shit.

Well. Not exactly her Brooke, no matter how bad Vanessa wants her to be. There’s too much going on and she also may be dead on the other side of the operating room wall and-

She lets out a breath, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

Things would be so much easier if they were other people, any other people. Maybe two women who met at a coffee shop, or were coworkers, or went to the same gym. With mundane lives and simple jobs and maybe some pets, who lived near each other and whose biggest worries would have been about what they would make for dinner.

Vanessa imagines coming home to Brooke - no, she and Brooke coming home at the same time after a late day, shedding their work clothes and putting on comfy pyjamas. Curling up on the couch and watching a movie together. A life where there would be no bullets, no one after their lives, no money over their heads. The tug in her heart for it is so strong that she feels like it’s going to rip out of her chest.

Maybe they’ll have it. One day.

If Brooke survives through the night first.

Vanessa’s head snaps up when a surgeon pushes the door open and strides into the waiting room. Sure, it’s probably a false alarm, like the other doctors and nurses who have walked in to talk to other people about patients who are not Brooke. But she can’t help but hope.

But then the surgeon calls out “Family of Brooke Lynn Hytes?” and Vanessa’s out of her chair, stumbling, following her blindly out of the room to an empty hallway because fuck, finally.

The surgeon’s face betrays nothing about Brooke’s condition, perfectly neutral as she waits for the others to catch up to them (Vanessa may or may not have run to get out of her seat). Vanessa wants to fucking yell.

“She’s okay.”

She’s okay.

The two words are enough to nearly knock her over, the weight of them too much to take because she’s okay, Brooke is okay.

Vanessa feels A’keria’s arm around her waist, holding her up, there’s more words that the surgeon is saying and that the others are nodding in response to but she can’t hear them, not that it matters because Brooke is okay .

“Can we see her?” She blurts out the words before she can even think about holding them back, cups a hand over her mouth when she accidentally interrupts what the surgeon is saying.

The surgeon turns to her, mouth turning up when Vanessa mouths ‘sorry’. “Ms. Hytes has just been transferred to the ICU. She’s still in post operative recovery and needs close monitoring over the next few hours, so it would be best if only one of you were to go.” The surgeon pauses. “I’m guessing that will be you?”

Vanessa winces, gives her a sheepish expression. “How’d you guess? Wait, don’t answer that.”

Nonetheless, she’s on the surgeon’s heels shortly afterwards, following the woman past a maze of inpatient wings and hallways and medical professionals in scrubs and lab coats. She’s not sure which direction they’re going in or how she’s going to get out of this labyrinth but she doesn’t care, she’s not going to leave Brooke once she reaches her. Not going to happen.

The surgeon finally stops outside of a room, starts talking to the nurse in the doorway but Vanessa barely notices, because Brooke.

There’s a tube down her throat and an IV coming out of her arm and so many wires across her body with monitors that beep too loud, but she’s alive.

Brooke is alive.

Her eyes are still closed, still making it look like she’s asleep but she looks so small in the bed, dwarfed by the tubes around her body that look like they’re about to suffocate her. The urge to just grab Brooke, pull her out and take her away to somewhere safe, somewhere no one can harm her is so strong that Vanessa has to ball her hands into fists and remind herself that Brooke is exactly where she should be right now.

Still, the knowledge that there’s absolutely nothing she can do right now to help Brooke makes Vanessa angrily blink away a tear. She hates it.

She wishes it were her in the bed. It should be her.

Brooke’s hair is still in its braid from the morning, albeit a bit mussed on her pillow. Vanessa steps closer, tentatively, brushes a piece away that’s in front of her face. A nurse behind her pulls up a chair, and it’s just as well because she collapses into it as she calls out a thank you. Her legs aren’t quite working anymore.

The rise and fall of Brooke’s chest is unnatural, mechanical as it’s controlled by the ventilator that gives her oxygen, helps her to breathe. It reminds Vanessa of when she was 8 years old, after her abuela had a stroke and her whole family came to the hospital to see her. Vanessa had been so confused, back then, as to why her abuela wouldn’t just wake up, start talking. The comparison feels too erie, too familiar, because her abuela never did.

Vanessa can feel the lump in her throat becoming harder and harder to ignore, impossible to swallow down. She’s held on for so long, didn’t want to break down in front of anyone but now that it’s just her and Brooke, it feels like she has no strength left to do so anymore.

She hasn’t had a person in a long time. Can she call Brooke that, her person, after knowing her for such a short period, and in such fucked up circumstances? She wants to.

She wonders if Brooke would feel the same way.

It feels cruel to find someone then lose them so quick to circumstances outside of both of their control, out of their doing. She wants to yell, scream, do anything to bring Brooke back from the haze of sedation that she’s under, to know for sure that she’s going to be okay.

Vanessa had to get used to hiding her sexuality in the public eye (‘for now’, Ra’jah had said, ‘until you’re elected’) and had shut down that part of herself from others, put it away, focusing on her career and on getting as far as possible. But then Brooke came and dismantled everything that Vanessa had carefully constructed and she can’t even be mad about it now, not when the demolition had felt so satisfying.

Vanessa wants to know Brooke more, every part of her - what makes her laugh, what her favourite TV shows are (other than Schitt’s Creek, which she’s already promised her that she will watch in the future), more about her two cats. What her favourite date activity is. More stories about her shenanigans with Yvie. She wants a promise, a whisper of a future with Brooke. Don’t they deserve as much after all this, after what they’ve been through?

Vanessa reaches out, squeezes Brooke’s hand with two of her own. It’s limp in her grasp, cold even when she tries to warm it in her hands. The hole in her chest feels like it’s growing, caving in on her because Brooke has survived the surgery, being shot, but it feels as if she’s still barely holding on.

Even when the nurses come by and tell her to go take a walk, grab some food, she doesn’t let go. She can’t.

Bright. Too bright, too loud. Beeping noises that feel like jackhammers on her skull. She wants it to stop, she wants everything to stop.

Where are Cain’s men? Are they here too? Did they manage to kill her?

Where’s Vanessa?

Brooke tries to call out her name but her mouth is too dry, and there’s something stuck in her throat and feels like it’s choking her from the inside out. A tube. She wants to pull it out, but her hands feel too far away, too difficult to lift up.

The fog in her peripheral starts to take over, a grey that clouds her vision and becomes impossible to ignore. Everything, thankfully, seems to fade away.

The second time Brooke wakes, she sees her. Vanessa. Hovering behind a nurse who’s holding a tube and was that what was down her throat?

But it doesn’t matter. Vanessa is there, and okay, and is she crying? Brooke doesn’t want Vanessa to cry.

Brooke tries to say Vanessa’s name, say anything at all but no sound comes out, and her throat hurts too much to try a second time. She wants to tell her about Cain and who’s behind everything because she’s figured it out, she knows that Cain’s family teamed up with the congressman. Tried to take them both out.

But words aren’t coming out of her mouth, and Vanessa is crying and she wants to reach out to her, soothe her, wipe the tears that are streaming down her cheeks because she doesn’t want Vanessa to be hurt. Her arms are too heavy to lift, and maybe it’s okay if she sleeps again, tells Vanessa later. When her throat doesn’t hurt and her body doesn’t feel like lead.

The third time that Brooke wakes up, she doesn’t move right away. She opens her eyes, stares at the fluorescent lights above her. Listens to the beeping of machines coming from both her left and right. The last thing that she remembers is the cabin, Vanessa diving on top of her and pain in her chest, but-

She’s not at the cabin. She’s in a hospital. Seems to be the most likely scenario.

She’s been shot, then. Can’t really recall much else. But then where’s Vanessa? Was she shot too? She lifts her head from the bed, ignoring the sudden spinning of the room around her because no, no no, Brooke’s supposed to keep her safe, she can’t lose her-

She’s beside her. Vanessa. Curled up on a plastic chair, feet tucked underneath her, cheek resting on her hand.

Sleeping.

Brooke hears the beeps around her slow down, back to a normal rhythm along with the beating of her heart as it regulates. Vanessa is safe. Alive.

She’s alive.

Brooke tries to reach out to her because she’s okay but the IV in her arm tugs, sends a shot of pain through her forearm. It creates a domino effect, and suddenly Brooke is hyperaware of every sensation in her body. The spinning of her head, the grey in her vision. The pain that previously hovered above her like a cloud now permeating everywhere, carving a hole into her chest and collarbone and shoulders and it hurts.

She wants to make it stop, but doesn’t know how. She doesn’t realize that a whimper leaves her mouth until she hears it in the small space and Vanessa’s up, out of her chair and all signs of sleep gone.

Vanessa’s above her and suddenly she’s the only thing that Brooke can focus on, her waves around her face and her eyes that look a little teary and her voice, uncharacteristically soft, whispering “it’s okay, baby, you’re okay.”

She must be okay, then. Brooke trusts Vanessa.

Vanessa’s fingers are running through her hair and it feels nice, distracts her from the pain rippling throughout the rest of her body.

Maybe her voice will come out now. She can try.

“Hi.” It’s quiet, crackly, scratches at her throat.

Vanessa lets out a sound in response that sounds like a squeak, or a cry, like a dying animal. “Hi, honey.”

Vanessa’s hand in her hair shifts to her cheek and Brooke leans into it instinctively. The warmth of Vanessa’s palm, her fingers, feels like it calms the trembling in Brooke’s body, makes everything stop shaking as much. The pain is still there but she can handle it, manage it, with Vanessa in front of her.

“You’re okay. Thank God.” Her voice feels so quiet, too quiet.

Vanessa hears it though, by the slight sob that leaves her throat in response. “Yeah, I am. I’m good, baby. You need to stop getting shot on me, though. This is the second time. Can’t have it turning into a habit.”

Oh, yeah. She had forgotten about the graze on her shoulder, which she’d stopped bandaging a few days ago because it had seemed to be healing well enough. A papercut when compared to this, the bullet that has ripped through her chest.

“I’d never been shot until I met you, y’know, so thanks for that.” Brooke grins, no malice behind her words - she’d get shot again and again if it means that she can save Vanessa’s life.

But her words don’t have the intended effect of making Vanessa smile, her face instead crumpling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Does Vanessa blame herself? She shouldn’t, she’s safe and alive and that’s all that matters, at least to Brooke. “Thank fuck you didn’t get hit. I never would have forgiven myself.”

Vanessa sniffles, moves to squeeze her hand. Brooke squeezes back, tugs on Vanessa’s hand until she looks back up at her. “You have great things ahead of you. A future as a congresswoman, maybe a White House run and becoming leader of the free world? Everyone needs you.”

I need you.

Vanessa looks like she wants to argue, protest her words but then there’s commotion in the hallway, and is that Yvie at the door? Followed by two women that seem incredibly familiar, but whose faces she can’t quite place.

“Goddamn Brooke, do you always have to be so dramatic in everything that you do?” Yvie’s come around her other side, hugging her and squeezing too tight but she lets go just as quick.

“Nice to see you too.” Brooke sees Yvie’s eyes looking wet, files that information away to lovingly tease her over later.

She shifts her gaze, then, to the other two women who wear matching expressions of wariness on their faces. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m-”

“We know exactly who you are, Brooke Lynn Hytes.” The taller woman fixes her with a gaze, and Brooke’s not sure how to react at the use of her full name. “Good thing you already incapacitated or we would be having some words right now.”

“Aw c’mon A’keria, Silky, let her be.” Vanessa’s voice cuts through as her fingers trace patterns on Brooke’s palm. “She saved my life. Again.”

Oh. Brooke realizes where she remembers them from. Weeks and weeks ago, from when she was first staking out Vanessa and was still planning a hit on her. She had seen them in the office, seen them around Vanessa. Her campaign manager and deputy campaign manager. The realization is startling, at first.

Was that really her, back then, only a few weeks ago? It feels like a lifetime, when she had different goals and priorities before everything was flipped upside down thanks to the woman currently squeezing her hand.

How have they ended up here?

Nonetheless, her manners win out, and she smiles at them. “Nice to meet you.”

They don’t return it, fixing her with narrowed looks. The shorter woman - A’keria - lets out a disgruntled noise.

“Don’t mind them. They’re still a little salty about the whole hit you had on me, originally. But then she saved my life like three times,” she says the last sentence a little louder, directing it at Silky and A’keria, “So it cancels out, right? Like BEDMAS.”

Yvie lets out a guffaw beside her as A’keria rubs at her temples. “Vanj, do you even remember 10th grade math at all? How is it BEDMAS? Wait, never mind. Not important.”

Vanessa is unperturbed. “Point is, I probably would have been dead right now if it wasn’t for Brooke. So y’all owe her a thanks that this campaign is even still going.”

A’keria pauses at that, turning towards Brooke. Brooke can see A’kieria studying her face, as if she’s trying to look for anything hidden. Not that Brooke has anything to hide at all, right now. Other than the fact that she really, really, could use more painkillers.

A’keria seems satisfied with what she sees. Nice to know that she has her approval. “Thank you, for that. Keeping her alive.”

It seems weird to be thanked for it, unnecessary even, when she’d do it again in an instant. “Of course.” She shrugs, wincing when pain shoots down her shoulder.

Vanessa’s up then, in the hall before Brooke can even blink, yelling for a nurse and most definitely waking up other patients. Though it does the job, her charge nurse bounding into the room and injecting painkillers in her IV. Brooke can’t help but shoot Vanessa a grateful smile, only for Vanessa to return it and place a kiss on her forehead.

“They always this gross?” While Silky’s voice is a whisper in A’keria’s ear, it’s loud enough to carry throughout the room.

“Watch it!” Vanessa’s voice is a foghorn, and makes Brooke laugh. She’s not sure if she’ll ever tire of it.

It’s nice. The painkillers are settling in by the way that her body feels lighter, hazier. Everything feels nice.

Too nice.

She’s missing something.

It doesn’t take long to rush back - the men, their ambush, and she’s gasping, looking up at Vanessa and Yvie because fuck, are they even safe? Do they need to go?

“I know who’s after Vanessa, who’s after me, who’s behind it, they’re probably still coming-” Her breaths are shallow, she can’t breathe, why isn’t anyone else freaking out?

“Hey, hey. We know, baby.” Vanessa’s voice is soothing, calm. How can she be calm?

“What?” Brooke looks up at her, trying to read her face but she can’t tell what Vanessa isn’t saying. Her mind feels too slow, too lethargic.

“That’s how these three doofuses tracked those guys to the cabin and to us, with the local PD backup. Found ‘em just in time.”

No, Vanessa’s not getting it, the men were more than just random thugs, disposable pawns. It was planned, both of their demises were planned, and almost happened.

Brooke tugs on Vanessa’s hand, looks up at her and Yvie. Both of them appear alarmed at how agitated she is, how her heart monitor seems to be speeding up but it’s important. But before either of them can say anything, she feels the exhaustion hit.

She’s tired. Really tired, and Vanessa’s tracing patterns on her palm and she can’t do it anymore. She can feel the fight leave her like a balloon, feel the drowsiness hit and it’s definitely the painkillers. Superb timing.

Brooke wants to keep talking, but sleep feels easier as it takes over her vision, colours her sight.

She hopes they can stay alive for one more day, at least, enough for her to explain and for them to find a way to be safe, consider a counter attack even. But for now, she’s too tired. She falls into dreams of Vanessa instead, the way her dimples become even more prominent when she laughs. Her subconscious has priorities and for once, Brooke isn’t upset at what it has chosen to broadcast.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #game of survival #holtzmanns #submission

23 notes · View notes

maybeformepersonally · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: the poetry of resistance, chapter 1

Title: the poetry of resistance Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: T / Teen Summary: Dark times are brewing, fear and prejudice have been sinking their vicious claws into Dan's world, twisting and poisoning his once quiet, peaceful way of life. He feels like his life is falling apart, and he's scrambling to do something, anything, to keep enough of the pieces together. But even in the darkest of times, even in the midst of the worst atrocities committed, kindness can blossom, and new hope can be born. Word Count: 4.9k this chapter (the whole fic will be 20k+) Author’s Note: This fic is my fill for the @phandomreversebang! I need to thank the lovely admins of the PRB for organising this, and the wonderful @dansphlevels for making the art that inspired this story (see it here!). And a very special, very heartfelt thank you to the fabulous @itsmyusualphannie, who was kind enough to fill the position of my beta reader when I found myself without one, and doing an excellent job of it to boot. Any mistakes that remain are solely mine.

[Read on ao3]

Old Conrad Huckabee got up early as usual to start the day, as was expected of bakers, before the sun would rise. After the habitual short routine of morning ablutions that had remained unchanged for years now, he headed downstairs into his bakery accompanied by his dearest wife. She had been as faithful and true to him as a man could hope for, a true companion in life and business, and he likely would have floundered without her support and no-nonsense attitude throughout the years. He thanked the gods every day that he had been so lucky as to find one as her to stand beside him.

They moved as one into their respective positions, a dance they had long perfected for a routine as familiar as breathing and as beloved as the life they’d built together, Conrad at the ovens and his dear Adelaide with her books and supplies, making sure everything was in order for Conrad to get lost in his craft. A mere half-hour before opening time, the Howell boy arrived, perfectly on time. Adelaide quite liked that about him. Responsible lad.

Conrad opened the door for him and ushered him to the back, to where his wife was sorting that week’s stock and making sure everything was running smoothly. Adelaide had truly been a godsend. He’d married for love, but no one would suspect it from the way his father’s little bakery had flourished under their joint care once Conrad had inherited it not long after their nuptials. He knew, everyone knew really, that the success had been in great part due to his young wife’s sharpness of mind and her skill in trade. Oh, she would never stiff or cheat a merchant, such behaviours would only lead to mistrust and ruin, if not imprisonment. No, she was fair to a fault, just, well, brilliant.

He spared a glance to the young merchant greeting his wife with a warm smile and a respectful tilt of the head. It had been over a decade now since the boy had started trading with them directly, first as proxy for his parents and later as a trader in his own right, but despite his young age, he had never treated Adelaide with anything but the respect she rightfully deserved, which was saying something when half the village still persisted in viewing women as somehow… inferior. Conrad huffed at the thought. Old fools, he thought, and nevermind that he was old enough now to fit that description himself. Oh, but he was no fool. They were so set in their ways that they would stare reality in the face and refuse its length and shape, and for what? Everyone knew women were especially good at trade, this he had learnt as a little tyke at his grandfather’s knee back before he was even tall enough to reach the baker’s ovens. Women were better at maths, and accounting, they excelled at keeping books, could run where the men would limp and stumble.

This particular trader, young enough to be their own son, seemed to have learnt this as well, for he had never disrespected his dear Adelaide, and had never tried to dupe her with bad quality wares or too steep prices. A fair and honest trader was hard to come by, sadly, which he supposed was why those two had always liked each other, he mused as a chuckle reached his ears. His wife was in good spirits today, he thought with a little smile of his own, and whispered a quick prayer to her favoured gods in thanks. He was ever grateful, after so many years, that the gods had so blessed him in both business and love.

As he continued arranging the day’s work in preparation for opening time, he reflected that it was a pity the young Howell boy had not found a wife of his own to share his efforts and secure the line of his house. But then again, that was hardly surprising.

Some small eccentricities would hardly matter to any smart young woman or discerning head of house, not with a profitable line of trade and a face as fair as that, but to live past the borders of the forest… oh, yes. That would give any young woman or her parents pause. Even with the efforts of the special guard, one could never be perfectly sure that no creatures lurked, not outside the heart of the village, not when nothing but earth and trees and wild animals surrounded you and the terrain may allow those awful, wicked creatures passage into your very home.

The boy, well, man now, had some small grasp on the magicks that kept such dangers at bay; he must, or he would have perished by now. And Conrad did not doubt that he was dutiful, and ever careful not to shirk his duties. His very survival attested to that. But he had been born in the forest, had grown up there, with his parents moving there as soon as they were married. They had inherited the land, and it was a good business decision to farm it, but still, most of the village had half expected them to perish out there, cut off from the comforts of immediate trade and the community. It took days to get to the village from their land on foot, and the lad had built his own house a whole day’s walk deeper into the forest than even his parents’ lodgings, or so the tales said. Tales that he was rather disposed to believe, as it wasn’t just the young fools who had nothing better to do than tell tales to pass the time that were saying so. Old Burnaby himself swore to it, and Conrad had lost count of the respectable storekeepers who had hinted or even outright said as much.

Still, the young Howell couple must have been better prepared than the village had given them credit for, and more favoured by the gods, to be blessed with the tools to survive alone all the way out there. And young Daniel only knew that life, and the ever-present vigilance and jealous warding of his lands must be second nature to him.

A pity, but understandable, that he hadn’t found a partner willing to follow him into the dark heart of the forest. Oh well, plenty of travellers and foreigners were used to such conditions. Perhaps that was all it would take; a traveller that crossed their village, or a merchant looking for trade. He hoped so, for the kind young man’s sake.

He heard him say his goodbyes to Adelaide, muffled by the partition that led behind his shop, and watched him appear from behind it a few seconds later. He seemed pleased enough with their trade, and Conrad was once again reminded of the confession he’d got out of the young man years ago about how their family was one of his favourites to deal with in the whole village, as they were more welcoming than most, and less driven to endless haggling. His dear Adelaide knew the worth of the young lad’s wares and she was willing enough to pay a fair price for them, which put them several steps above most of the village.

“Good exchange?” he prompted; they had enough time before he had to open the shop to indulge in a little small talk.

“Quite good, for both our houses,” Daniel answered with a pleasant smile. His eyes caught on the display to their left, however, and Conrad stifled an amused chuckle at the young man’s predictability. “Are those qurabiya?” Daniel asked, not even trying to hide his childlike delight.

“Indeed, they are! Straight from the oven. I could be persuaded to sell you some before the first customers may get their hands on the bargain, if you make a good enough offer for me to consider it...” he was teasing, of course. He was always happy to sell his products to Daniel when he was around, even if the bakery hadn’t technically opened its doors yet when he came round for business. Daniel knew it, too. He was giving him a wide dimpled grin, and the old baker found himself thinking again about how unfortunate it was that such a kind and striking young man should be single still.

Daniel asked for four qurabiya to go, two for his parents and two for himself, as usual, and as Conrad wrapped them up for him, he broached the subject once again, much to the well-taken exasperation of the young man before him, who’d been subject to this particular talk at the hands of the well-meaning baker many, many times before (and more often as of late, as he grew older).

“No news to speak of on my love life, no,” he said with a badly hidden roll of his eyes. “I can’t imagine why the topic matters so much to you, I swear. More nosy than most of the matchmakers in the village put together, you are. You needn’t concern yourself with my love life, Conrad. I promise I can handle the trade for myself, with the occasional help from my parents, if need be. Your supply line shall not suffer from my regrettable lack of a wife.”

“Of course, of course,” he said placatingly. “But trade is only part of the reason to seek a marriage. You can’t be content to spend all that time alone out there in the woods. A companion would surely make the days shorter and sweeter, and a young man as yourself should be thinking about children soon…”

Daniel shook his head to himself, amused at the baker’s persistence. “I appreciate your concern, but as you know, my way of life wouldn’t suit most villagers, much less the young women who grew up in a village as big and bustling with activity as this one. Regardless, I am quite content as is, much as I know it perplexes you.” He smiled then. As annoying as it could be to be grilled about his love life and to be offered pointed advice about the young unmarried women in town, Dan knew it came from a good place. “Most of us aren’t so lucky as to find our perfect match, much less to find her so early in life, you know.” The man was a hopeless romantic, and as such had become something like the unofficial matchmaker of the town. It was sweet.

“Ah, that is very true. But that doesn’t mean you should give up, young lad! I hear a caravan of travellers has announced their intention to stop here soon. They must be on the lookout for new trade, or perhaps even a place to settle on. I hear there is a pair of hunters coming in to aid the special guard, but perhaps there are a few ladies as well? Perhaps a young lady accustomed to the life of a traveller might be more open to a life on the outskirts of town…?”

Dan swallowed any outward indication of his skin crawling at the mention of ‘hunters’ coming in to ‘aid the special guard’. The casual mention had activated his fight or flight response, but he couldn’t let his expression slip, even with well-meaning old villagers like Conrad.

Thankfully, Dan had years of practice in the concealing of emotions, and so he chuckled at the man’s insistence, determined to grill the more forthcoming storekeepers who might actually have the kind of information he needed about the hunters coming his way. He knew the old baker well enough by now to know that any details he might pry out of him would be geared more towards getting him wed rather than anything useful to him.

“We might see,” he told Conrad with a carefree glint of mischief. “Don’t get your hopes up, old friend, you know I will not settle for usefulness.”

“As you shan’t! I quite agree!” He had perked up at Dan’s seeming acquiescence. “Why settle for an advantageous union when one can strive for a lasting, true love?” He was nodding along as he presented the package of sweets to him, carefully sealed to withstand Dan’s travels. Dan paid for the pastries and bade him farewell, reminding him once more not to try to pair him up with any young lady he thought might make a good match, even though he knew Conrad would endeavour to tell any unmarried woman arriving in that caravan that looked the slightest bit interested all about Dan’s virtues.

Can’t ask the deer to change its hooves, Dan thought ruefully. He hoped the man didn’t get any poor woman’s hopes up with his efforts. The last thing Dan needed was to contend with the complications that would come from taking a human wife.

Dan took the long way back to his home deep into the forest, taking a few detours to reassure himself that everything was okay, that no disaster or evil had befallen his beautiful land in his brief absence, that no tree or animal or creature had been disturbed.

You couldn’t be too careful these days.

The leisurely trek soothed ruffled nerves, but he couldn’t stop turning the latest news in his mind as he walked deftly over uneven terrain and smooth plains alike. The air sprites surfaced from the heights of the tallest trees to signal the lack of new developments as he gave them their prearranged call; the family of ungulate kelpies living in the depths of his forest looked up at him when he approached and gave him a distinct nod to indicate no problems had met them either; and so on.

He didn��t take the small detour behind the old oak tree he used to play in as a child to check the mounds that the aes sídhe used to claim as their home. And he didn’t take a left there down the path that led to the natural pond that had formed several centuries ago, where the will-o'-the-wisps used to dance ethereally over the calm water, dipping occasionally to play hide-and-seek in the reeds and water lilies.

There was no point. There was no one there anymore.

The sun was high in the sky by the time his circuit led him to the last stop before home. There couldn’t be more than an hour or so of sunlight left.

Dan finally slowed down as he approached the jagged rock formation that led to the cenote that was his final check-in of the day. He left his pack resting on one of the concave shapes eroded into the stone, secured against any strong winds by one of the stray rocks lying around, before heading for the mouth of the cave. It really did look like a mouth, rough spikes growing up out of the base of the opening and coiling all around it like monstrously deformed, too-sharp teeth. It wasn’t the easiest squeeze, especially for someone his size, but he could manoeuvre it without too much trouble, his hands and feet familiar with the grooves and sharp edges. It was for the best anyway, he thought. Wouldn’t do to have an unwary traveller enter the sacred caves by mistake.

He didn’t come here often. But the day’s news was worrying enough to warrant it, he’d decided after ruminating on it all day. He’d worried about it in the back of his head for the entirety of his trip.

He navigated the sharp mouth of the cave and crossed into the cooler air inside, careful to stay his grip into the stone wall before steadily climbing down. There was a stretch of open sky that illuminated a patch of the deep blue waters which covered most of the vast interconnected caves, but jumping directly into the waters would be nothing short of suicidal, even for a not-unwelcome-guest such as himself. He’d never trespass on another’s domain like that, nor would he want to abuse his welcome. He knew how rare the courtesy extended to him was, and how precious for it.

The rays of sunlight reaching into the deceptively calm water made it sparkle attractively, and Dan took the time to appreciate the beautiful play of flecks of light and shadows that adorned the cave walls as clouds shifted all the way up in the sky. He’d always enjoyed the view, from the first time he was allowed entry here as a child, and he’d always marvelled that he would be given such an unlikely gift. The habitants of the cenotes were infamous for distrusting outsiders.

To those who even knew there was such a thing, anyway.

As he was reaching the ground - he’d headed for the small patch of limestone filled with tiny rocks to the left of the cave entrance as was the custom - he lowered his bare feet into the narrow riverbank and announced his presence with a distinct whistle. They would have already noticed him, of course, but the rituals must be observed. He waited a full minute, counting in his head and watching the little shadows of movement in the water, taking in the seldom-seen beauty of the caves, then, once the minute was over, he moved ahead, carefully, deliberately, to the edge of the river. He could only advance three wide steps before the stream bed plunged to unknown depths, and so he stopped at the third step, the soles of his feet firmly rooted into the rock, and he waited.

He wasn’t made to wait long. He saw the figures approach, thin and sinewy and too fast to be any kind of human, too fast in the water to be anything but what they were, and he let his feet and calves harden and expand lightly, gripping into the rock he was standing on more securely and providing a more reliable proof of his own identity than anything else he could have done or presented them with. He was in their domain, anyway. One, alone, where hundreds of them swam leisurely around, and where hundreds more could be called if a threat dared show up. If they wanted him dead he didn’t stand a chance. Just as they liked it.

He couldn’t really blame them.

They surfaced a few meters away, and he was relieved to recognise their leader. She hadn’t always been available for his impromptu visits, and the others were much more distrustful of him. Klavdiya was there the first time Dan had visited as a kid, however. She remembered his Papa too, and that also helped.

“Lady Klavdiya,” Dan addressed her, twining his arms close to his chest, and inclined his torso slightly while keeping eye contact with her. She bared her too-long, too-sharp teeth in a grimace Dan had learnt was a gesture not unlike a smile for humans. The two rusalki flanking her sides allowed themselves to stoop lower into the water, vigilant as ever but mollified by the show of respect. Dan only recognised one of them from his previous visits, though she’d never offered a name.

“Daniel, forest child. You come unannounced.”

“I do. I’ve received news that you deserve to hear.” The rusalki appreciated candour as much as Dan did, so he didn’t waste their time with small talk. It would be an insult to them both.

“Speak,” Klavdiya prompted, not unkindly.

“There is a party coming to the village. No more than a dozen humans, but among them, there is a pair of hunters. Rumours are they’re quite skilled in certain magicks, and they’ve sent word that they’re canvassing the kingdom, catching and disposing of any non-humans they can and making note of others they may not have the resources to slay. I don’t know how accurate the assessment of their skills is, but I’ve ascertained that there is a pair of hunters travelling this way, and they’ve apparently caused quite the stir in the neighbouring lands, so I doubt they’ll be easy pickings.”

Klavdiya swirled her tail close to the surface in a dangerous motion that Dan knew could drain the life of a human in a single blow.

She was worried.

Dan hated it.

“Canvassing…” she sounded the word out, picking at it as she asked for more information.

“I doubt they’ll venture this deep into the forest. If they do, I may well have to take them out myself before they ever reach the caves.”

Klavdiya’s fins flickered in sympathy. She knew he wouldn’t enjoy it if it came to that.

Dan understood the significance of the gesture, a notable display of insight and compassion from a creature who would delight in slaying her enemies, as brutally and mercilessly as she felt they deserved. He saw the respect in her eyes, in her posture, in every word she said to him. She knew he would do it if necessary.

“You may need help,” she declared.

“I hope not,” he hedged.

“You may need help,” she repeated, softly but with a core of strength intrinsic to her people and her character.

“I do not wish to involve you. I have come to warn you because I may not be able to come once they’re in the vicinity. I would not want to lead them here. And I don’t know how long they’ll stay.”

“You may need help,” she repeated herself a third time, and much as he didn’t want to acknowledge the implicit offer, it would border on a snub to dismiss it a third time. Dan gave her a pleading look. She didn’t flinch.

“...I may. But if it comes to that, it may be too late for me anyway.”

“If you lead them to the opening at the top, you need only push them in. If they fall into the water, my brethren will make short work of them, magick or no magick.”

The hunters’ magic could cost her brethren several lives, maybe dozens if they were as powerful as advertised. He didn’t say this. She knew. A threat to his forest implied a threat to her caves, to her river, to the sea her river flowed into. A canvassing entourage might even be planning that far ahead. Dan rather hoped not.

He let out a heavy breath, reluctant acquiescence. “I promise I shall only consider it as the very last resort,” he vowed.

Klavdiya inclined into an awkward bow, respect shown for respect due. “You need not vow so, our offer was freely made. But it is appreciated.” She would not have offered so to someone else. She would not have offered if she didn’t know he’d never ask it of them. That is why she offered. That, and her people. Their domain. Their home. They would rather all die defending it than surrender one lone inch of it. They’d already lost so many. Humans had always been particularly brutal to her kind, and it had only got so much worse in the last decade...

“My respects to you and yours. May our alliance endure the hurdles to come, and may no threat disturb the peace and quiet of our lands and rivers.” The formal words closed the formal encounter, and he waited to see what Klavdiya would do next.

“Our respects, forest child. Should you need our power, we shall be here.”

Dan did another ‘rusalka bow’, as he’d come to call them when he’d first learnt them as a child, arms entwined and pressed to his chest, a show of respect and trust to the people whose domain he had been allowed to step into. He remembered his Papa explaining the significance of the tangled arms - a deliberate blunting of one of their best weapons; the position of their feet - as deep as they could go into the water without endangering or maiming themselves - and the revealing of their nature by calling forth the forest to reshape their lower limbs into their inhuman form - proof of identity, of membership, of allegiance. He had tried to copy the delicate movements that flowed so effortlessly from his Papa, but he’d only managed a clumsy imitation that first time. They’d practised later, back at home, at little Dan’s insistence. He’d been five then.

Now, the movements were well-practised, his limbs folding gracefully and his stance never wavering. Klavdiya rose from her own bow and made a swirly movement with her arms to dismiss her companions. They’d stay close, keep an eye on them, he knew, but they didn’t argue; just submerged themselves into the water and disappeared from view.

Klavdiya swam close, movements careful so as to display her goodwill. A rusalka swimming at natural speeds would read to any creature as a threat on an instinctual level, no matter how firm an ally they knew them to be. Dan flexed his feet, one after the other, smoothing rough bark back into soft pale flesh, and took three steps back so that he could sit on the edge of the water, letting his human-looking feet rest comfortably in the shallows.

“Did you find anything else?” Klavdiya asked once she was within reach. Not that they’d reach out to touch each other. Neither one particularly cared to, and if they did there’d be angry and protective rusalki to answer to.

Dan shook his head, allowing his expression to display his worry fully. He’d only heard rumours, some snippets of conversations overheard and some freely offered. But he’d heard tales of less fortunate lands, heard enough - too much, really - of the horrors perpetrated by more zealous bands of humans in the plains to the east, the scope of the bloodshed in the mountain villages of the south, the atrocities committed in the name of ‘humanity’. He’d never been an optimist, but the current political climate was beyond anything he could have feared. It made surviving a burden, sometimes.

He missed his Papa like a cracked rib, the pain sharp and present with every breath he took, and he sometimes thought that if it wasn’t for the chance to help others, to help even a few of the poor lost souls that were being mercilessly hunted as far and wide as he managed to get news from, then he might have given up long ago. The future felt so bleak. And he was so tired.

But he was the last bastion between the misguided and cruel and the haven that was his forest, strategically tucked away into its roots, emboldened and favoured by Her, her child, and he couldn’t abandon Her any more than he could abandon those in need that were desperate enough to venture inside into her welcoming folds, and there had been quite a few of those in recent years. These were desperate times, after all.

Some, however, like the rusalki, hadn’t ventured in looking for an escape, but rather they were a part of it from times immemorial.

Well, the rusalki were neighbours to it, technically. They had their own domain in the pools of the caves entrenched within the forest, and in the river that flowed through them, connecting them to the deeper, wider sea. But they belonged there, they had been there for millennia, and for all their danger they felt to Dan like a respite, a comfort, a steady bulwark that refused to be moved, refused to be challenged, refused to be cowed.

So many peoples had folded, some in fear, some in indifference, a few in a strategic bid that meant to win them the realm in the long run. But not the rusalki, steadfast and unyielding as ever, and not Dan either. Unlike them, he lacked the strength of numbers, however. He only had the forest. The forest and his human parents, who had no command of magick, his human parents who couldn’t fight, and who still now carried the bleeding wound of the forced separation with their hearts’ partner, patched up but still raw, still tearing at them, still ravaging their will and their courage. Dan sometimes thought that they suffered his Papa’s absence even more keenly than him.

His talk with Klavdiya was short, as their chats usually were, but he was pleased to see her bare her teeth once again when he showed her the token he’d brought for her. He knew to be careful with gifts, but rocks from his forest, imbued with the moon’s energy and the earth’s vitality, were quite straightforward as presents from one ally to another, and useful enough not to raise any hackles from the more suspicious of her brethren.

The sun was getting low, however, and soon they had no more information to exchange, not even of the personal leisurely sort, so he bid his goodbyes and left with the promise to visit again once the danger was past them. He’d keep to his next scheduled visit if the hunters were gone by then, and only make another surprise visit if he felt like he must, if circumstances changed.

Hopefully, that wouldn’t be necessary.

By the time he’d climbed back to the surface and out through the tricky mouth of the cave, the sky was a deep orange. He could walk through the forest deaf and blind if he had to, of course, so navigating it by night under the watchful light of the stars would be no hardship for him.

But he was getting hungry and he hadn’t forgotten the qurabiya nestled carefully inside his pack. He’d make a simple dinner and enjoy one for dessert. It shouldn’t take long for him to get to his cottage.

He’d make in an early night. He had plans early the next day.

#phanfic #am i writing now #phandom reverse bang #phan #phan au #fantasy au

9 notes · View notes