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yandere-society · 4 years ago

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The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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rax-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Family Man

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x OC [basically a reader insert, because the OC’s physical description isn’t addressed or anything, she just has a name] Warnings: None Notes: A Sokovian woman named Irina Molnár was born with the ability to teleport, and in time, she encounters the only man to gain her trust enough to show him. It just so happens that the man in question is the criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo. // So, as I said, it’s an OC but still basically a reader insert; don’t let the OC part deter you if you prefer x reader fics. It just worked better for me on the writing end to use a name, and I have an aversion to using “Y/N,” so I just threw in a pretty name. // TL;DR: Zemo as a dad just kills me & I wanted him to get a second chance at a family.

“I will assist you to the utmost of my ability, on one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Zemo.”

“This is both for my own benefit, and yours, I assure you.”

If someone had asked Irina ten years ago where she thought she’d be at this point in life, her answer would have been incredibly far from accurate, for nothing could have predicted the path her life took.

Not that her life had been normal to begin with, being that she was born with the ability to teleport. Sokovia was not exactly a progressive country in the late 1980’s, so her parents had endlessly instructed her to conceal her ability, warning her of the countless dangers of her power being known to others. Her parents were so protective of her that when she teleported as a reflex at age thirteen, after walking along the sidewalk of main street in Novi Grad and a driver fell asleep at the wheel and headed straight for her, they packed up and moved to Russia in the middle of the night. Yet again, the same thing happened at age eighteen, when she was caught up in a hostage situation in a bank and the perpetrator caught her calling the police. Just as he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, she disappeared. Irina and her parents fled to Germany in the dead of night less than twenty-four hours later, and she knew then that she needed to suppress her powers no matter what, being that her father was elderly, and her mother was too ill for them to ever travel again.

So, Irina settled into a normal life in Munich. She worked various odd jobs over the years to support her parents, made and lost a few friends, dated here and there. Her father passed when she was twenty-two, and two years later, her mother joined him. When living in the house where both her parents passed in their sleep became too unbearable, she packed up and moved to Berlin, getting a job at a high-security prison there. Less than a year after she began working there, a newcomer arrived: an inmate by the name of Helmut Zemo.

Being that he knew so much about HYDRA, from his extensive research on them, the American organization SHIELD wished to know more about them. A few psychiatrists and some professional interrogators tried for the first couple months, but they got nothing – quite literally, as he refused to utter a single word to any of them. Irina’s boss knew that she was Sokovian just like Zemo, so she was asked to extract any and all valuable information she could from the new prisoner.

Zemo was an intimidating man; calm, cool, and collected at all times, with eyes like a hawk that bore into Irina’s very soul each time he looked at her. She spent two months talking with him every other day, trying anything and everything she could to get him to talk, but he remained silent. At first, she tried asking him questions outright, but he wouldn’t ever say a word – just stare at her with those cold, calculating eyes. So, Irina changed her approach; they would chat idly in Sokovian to build rapport via their shared mother tongue, or she would ramble about her day, what book she was currently reading, her favorite movies, dates she went on. Those topics got him talking, chatting with her about the miscellaneous subjects she brought up, and both she and her supervisors took it as a good sign. She found that they shared similarities in terms of the loss of their families, and how the destruction of Sokovia hurt them both. Despite how frequently they spoke, he still never revealed anything of importance. After two months, her boss had a few interrogation experts give her some training, so she tried their tactics for another month, but she still got nowhere with him.

Three months after Irina began trying to get intel from Zemo, she sat down in the chair outside his cell, and huffed out a sigh.

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit, Zemo.”

“Why?” His voice held surprise, and a tinge of sadness.

“As you know, they assigned me to visit you for the sake of getting information from you. I’ve been consistently empty-handed over the past four months, so they’re giving up, assigning me back to regular patrol duty.”

“Will I still see you?”

“No. They’re moving me to the women’s side of the prison next week.”

Zemo simply stared at the ground in silence, hands clasped in his lap. Irina allowed the silence to linger for several minutes, then pulled something from her bag, unlocked the small opening on the side of his cell where guards gave him meals, slid the item through, and locked it shut again. He eyed it for a moment before standing and retrieving it, sitting back down on the bed as he looked at it.

“It’s that book I told you about last month, the one you said sounded interesting. Consider it a parting gift.”

He still said nothing, gaze locked on the book cover. Irina cleared her throat and stood, putting her bag on her shoulder as she looked to Zemo one last time.

“It has been nice getting to know you, Zemo. Take care of yourself.”

As Irina pulled open the door to leave, Zemo’s voice called out, “Wait!” She turned to face him and found that he was standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if he were thinking, before stating, “Tell your superiors that I will give them one piece of information on HYDRA every two months if you will have lunch with me twice each week.”

Irina’s brows raised in surprise, but she nodded in understanding. “I’ll pass the message along, Zemo.”

“Please… call me Helmut.”

The higher-ups were more than happy to agree to his terms, as long as Irina was okay with them as well, since it involved her. But she wasn't stupid. She told them that it felt like quite an undertaking to agree to such a thing, she had been considering looking for another job in the near future, etcetera. Naturally, they offered to double her pay to persuade her to commit to the arrangement, and it was then that she agreed. In truth, it was no skin off Irina’s nose to do it in the first place. As deranged as it was, Zemo had become her friend, her only friend, and she quite enjoyed talking with him. And even more deranged – bordering psychotic, really – she had developed a bit of a crush on him, finding him to be dangerously handsome and intelligent, so she certainly had no quarrels with agreeing to spend time with him.

Time seemed to fly when Irina began her twice weekly visits to Zemo. She found herself eagerly awaiting their lunches, and she always stayed longer than necessary. She would have rather eaten glass than admit it, but she frequently put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup on the days she would be seeing him.

God, I’m fucking pathetic, Irina thought to herself at least once a week, and yet it never stopped her.

It was another few months later when he said something that made her stomach drop to the pits of hell, and a cold sweat to break out on her skin.

“I know who you are, you know. I have since you first introduced yourself. Irina Molnár, the disappearing girl – at least, that’s what the headlines called you. I remember reading about it when I was a teenager, but the story was forgotten within a week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irina replied, but Zemo could hear the quiver in her voice.

“My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone besides you. I have simply been wondering… were the rumors true? Can you really just disappear into thin air?”

When Irina hesitated, he added, “Irina, no one would believe me if I told them, and even if they did, they would have no way to prove it. Besides, we have been acquainted for nearly a year now. You are my only solace in this living hell. I would have gone mad had you not came into my life. I would never do anything to risk you harm.”

She exhaled slowly, and looked at the ground when she said, “It’s not ‘disappearing.’ It’s teleporting.”

Zemo leaned forward in his seat, visibly invested in her confession.

“I’ve been able to do it since I was four. Scared my parents half to death when I suddenly appeared before their eyes, having been across the house mere seconds before. I learned to control it pretty quickly, but that day in Sokovia… I was only ten years old, and a car was coming right at me, full speed, so I panicked. I teleported home right before it crushed me, and it would have been a non-issue if my classmate hadn’t been a few feet away and saw the whole thing. He ran his mouth to the press about my identity, so we had to leave.”

“That was why you moved to Russia, not because your father got a job there,” Zemo realized, remembering when you initially told him about your move and falsified the reasoning.

“Yes. It happened again there, when someone shot at me. No one who was around at the time knew my name, so it never made it to the press, but my parents were overly cautious, so we fled to Germany. I’ve not done it since, besides in the comfort of my own home.”

“Show me.”

“You say stupid things for such a brilliant man, Helmut,” Irina said, nodding toward the camera in the corner of the room.

“After you get home tonight, teleport into my cell.”

“Did you miss what I said about the camera, or…?”

“The camera does not have a view of my bed. It only reaches the middle of my cell, not the very back of it where the bed is,” Zemo pointed out, and Irina realized that he was right. She had been in the camera room several times; the camera there did indeed only show the room and half of his cell, never the bed.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zemo smiled brightly, looking excited, like a little kid about to see a magic trick. That alone was enough to motivate Irina to do it, just for the opportunity to see that smile again. So, when she got home that night, she changed into a flowy, deep green sundress, touched up her makeup and hair, strapped on a nice pair of sandals, and then stood in her living room, hyping herself up to take such a risk.

There was a chance that she would get caught. Teleporting in front of anyone was always a risk, no matter what, her parents had always told her. But then that damned, dashing smile crossed Irina's mind, and before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the foot of Zemo’s bed.

The book he’d been reading flew out of his hands as he practically jumped out of his skin, falling to the ground with a loud whack, and he pressed a palm to his chest as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.

“We really should have scheduled a specific time for your arrival,” he muttered, and Irina laughed softly. Thankfully, the cameras had no sound, but if a guard were passing by outside, they may have heard her. When he caught his breath a moment later, Zemo sat up in the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge as he patted the spot beside him. Irina took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

“So, you were telling the truth. You can actually teleport,” Zemo observed, eyeing her with amusement and interest before he bombarded her with questions. “Can you teleport anywhere in the world? Are there parameters for your distance or location? How long does it take you to travel from one place to another? What does it feel like?”

“I can teleport anywhere I’ve been to or seen photographs of. I cannot do it blindly. The distance nor location does not matter, as long as I have seen my destination before. And it feels like… a slight tingling sensation, all over my body, but it only lasts until I arrive, which takes about a half second.”

“Fascinating,” Zemo whispered. He licked his lips before asking, “Are you capable of teleporting another individual along with you?”

Irina frowned at him. “I’m not breaking you out of prison, Helmut.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“No, but you were alluding to it,” she countered, and he shrugged. “I can teleport another individual, but only over small distances. Each time I’ve tried, the most distance I’ve gotten with another person has been about ten yards.”

“Perhaps with practice, you could go further.”

“I practiced for years, and ten yards seems to be the true limit. Besides, the only others who have ever known about my ability were my parents, and since they’re gone, I have no test subjects.”

Zemo nodded solemnly, then asked, “What about teleporting repeatedly, in ten yard increments?”

“Tried that. Can only do it about three times before I’m too drained to do it again. Teleporting back-to-back with another person takes a lot of energy,” Irina answered, then added, “And again, even if I could, I am not breaking you out.”

“I am merely interested in your mutation, that is all,” Zemo retorted. Irina shot him a look that said ‘Really?’ so he relented with, “Perhaps also because I wanted to know if you could break me out, but that’s neither here nor there.”

"That's what I thought."

It was another month before either party made a move. They were sitting on Zemo’s bed, side by side, as Irina told him about her day at work, and the man who'd tried hitting on her in the grocery store earlier that evening.

"He thought he was very Rico Suave, but his execution was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, he followed me around for nearly ten minutes while he worked up the courage to say something. He waited until I walked past him and greeted me with 'Hey, sexy lady.'"

"Oh no," Zemo said, grinning as he looked genuinely amused at this man's poor tactics, although his amusement was contingent upon whether or not Irina was actually interested in him. The way she poked fun at the man indicated a lack of interest, therefore, he was enjoying her tale.

"Oh yes. He then asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven, which is the most overused line in the book, yet he said it with such confidence. And then – get this – he leaned onto what he thought was a shelf, but it was actually a stacked display of cans, which toppled over and sent a hundred soup cans flying down the aisle."

Zemo chuckled, prompting Irina to continue.

"He played it off by saying that my beauty is just so distracting that he didn't even realize what he was doing, and then asked for my phone number."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Absolutely not," Irina said, laughing softly and shaking her head. Zemo was momentarily entranced by the way her beautiful hair fell around her face, and the sound of her laugh.

"Why not?"

"Not my type."

"What is your ‘type’?"

Irina leaned back on the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling as she thought carefully. "Confidence, but not cockiness. Intelligence. Wit. Sarcastic senses of humor. Men with a sense of passion to them; some kind of fire and gusto about something, whether it be their work, art, music." She looked over at Zemo then, and allowed her gaze to travel slowly up and down his form. "Currently, my type seems to be men I can't have."

Zemo eyed her carefully, allowing himself to absorb her words fully for several moments. She was describing him – he just knew it. Or, he was too blinded by hopefulness and desire to realize that she wasn’t, but he figured there was only one way to find out. So, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

Irina hesitated for half a second, surprised by his actions, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. It was gentle, sweet, and explorative, both parties simply enjoying it while it lasts. Neither had any idea how long it lasted, as time stood still. Zemo was the first to pull away, eyes scanning Irina’s face as he looked at her with sheer adoration, as well as a touch of nervousness.

"I understand if you wish for me to never do that again, and I understand if you'd prefer to never see me again. But please know that I did not do that out of blind lust, or anything other fleeting emotion. I did it because my heart has yearned for you every day since first meeting you, and finally having you here next to me, where I can touch you… it was genuinely unbearable to hold myself back from kissing you. I have not felt anything like this since losing my wife, and I did not think my heart was capable of ever feeling it again. But you proved me wrong. I know I am risking an end to the only true human contact I have while trapped inside this cell, which truly frightens me, but the unyielding desire to tell you that I love you overpowers that fear."

Irina stared at him in shock for a few moments, before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she collected her thoughts before speaking. "Helmut… I love you, too, but I don't know how this would even work. You're never getting out of here. How can we have any kind of relationship when you're locked in a cell for the rest of your days?"

"We will make it work, my darling," Zemo said, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. "I will ensure that we mimic a true relationship as much as possible. I cannot wine and dine you as I would like to do, but I can easily bribe the guards to have lavish meals brought here for us to share on evenings such as these. I cannot take you out for birthdays or anniversaries, but I will ensure that you are showered with gifts on those days. My angel, I cannot give you a normal life, but I can promise to endlessly strive to make you happy."

Irina stared deeply into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, and she saw nothing but genuity, longing, and adoration there. She could feel the sincerity in his words, feel how desperately he wished for her to agree to his proposal. She was no fool; she knew that their relationship would be a struggle, and she knew that it would never be any resemblance of normal. But she also knew that he made her heart soar in a way no other man ever had, and that she would die feeling like she missed out on something incredible if she walked away from Zemo now.

“Okay,” Irina whispered, mostly to herself, before repeating it in a stronger, more self-assured voice. “Okay.”

For a man who always knew what to say, Zemo was at a loss for words, overcome with joy. He simply cupped her cheek and kissed her, far more passionately than before, allowing his triumphant and ecstatic feeling to flow through the kiss. Irina gripped the front of his sweatshirt in her fists, melting into him, before wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist.

Ages had passed by the time they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breaths. Irina was the first to break the comfortable silence they created, laughing quietly in disbelief at the events that had just transpired. Zemo followed suit, a deep, velvety chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He pressed another kiss to her lips before leaning back and looking at her. They gazed at each other in sheer contented bliss for a few moments more, before Irina became the first to speak.

“I love you, Helmut.”

“And I love you, darling.”

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

The sound of the front door opening caused Irina to immediately look up from the book she'd been reading. She frowned, then stood and headed for the door as quickly as possible, calling out, "Nikolai! You know better than to open that door, young man!" When she reached the entryway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Helmut, wearing the softest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen as he opened his arms to her. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not it was real, before he murmured, "Hello, my love." His voice – that alluring raspy undertone, and the gentleness it took on as he spoke to her – broke Irina from her trance, and she ran to him and into his arms, careful of her rounded belly.

Zemo stroked her hair and held her, and her arms around his neck gripped him like a vice, to the point that it hurt a little, but he'd never tell her that. A small sob fell from Irina's lips before she even realized she'd started crying, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear in Sokovian to soothe her, about how much he loved her and how happy he was to see her. When her crying quieted down a bit, he pulled away to kiss her, a kiss full of love and longing. When he broke the kiss a few moments later, she stroked his cheek lovingly, and he wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

"How are you here? What happened?" Irina asked, and only then did she notice the two men standing awkwardly by the doorway, their faces a mixture of suspicion and surprise. "Who are they?"

"They are the men who helped me escape. James was previously known as the Winter Soldier, and Sam is currently known as the Falcon, an Avenger."

Irina raised an eyebrow at him. "But… you… the Avengers… the Winter Soldier…."

"I know, I know. I am just as surprised as you are, but they need me for something, something very important."

"The Flag Smashers? I saw them on the news. They have Super Soldiers somehow."

"Yes, darling, exactly right. We'll find them, defeat them, and I'll be back before you know it."

Irina understood the implication of his words. He'd be back, but whether that would be in her home or in his cell was yet to be determined. But she knew him. She knew that he would not take his newfound freedom as a one-time opportunity. A storm of thoughts about what that would mean for them flashed through her mind, but Zemo’s hands on her stomach snapped her out of it.

"How is our daughter?" he asked, gently rubbing Irina’s baby bump, a bright smile blooming when the child inside kicked at his hands, as she always did. She had only been in existence for seven months, and she wasn't even born yet, but she already favored him over her mother.

"She's good, she's been moving around a lot today, as if she knew her Daddy was coming," Irina replied, earning a grin from Zemo. "The doctors told me this morning that her heartbeat is strong and she appears to be the picture of health."

"Good, good. And what about –"

"DADDY!" a tiny voice bellowed from down the hall, and they turned to see a small boy running full speed toward Zemo. Irina stepped back to allow him a clear passageway, smiling as Helmut crouched down to meet him, enveloping the boy in an embrace as he collided with his father's chest.

"Nikolai, I've missed you," Zemo stated, rubbing the boy's back as he stood, still holding his son. Irina caught the way her husband's voice wavered when he said that, and she laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I've missed you too, Daddy. Are you living with me and Mommy now?" Nikolai asked, leaning back in his father's arms to gaze at him with excitement plain on his face. Zemo gave him a smile, but Irina could see the sadness in it, knowing the future was uncertain.

"Not quite, buddy. Just here for a visit," Zemo replied, and Irina rubbed his back comfortingly before pressing a kiss to their son's temple.

Their family time was interrupted by Sam clearing his throat loudly, and when Zemo turned to face him, his smile faded.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Zemo, you've got some explaining to do, and not much time to do it. Don't forget we're on borrowed time here."

"Right," Zemo confirmed, then exhaled slowly. "James, Sam, this is my wife Irina and our son Nikolai…. He is five, and Irina is seven months along."

Confusion washed over both men's faces, and they exchanged a glance before the other, James, was the first to speak.

"But… you've been in prison for eight years. Have you been escaping every few years and no one's noticed?"

"I have not left my cell in eight years, consecutively. But my wife is capable of getting into my cell as often as we wish."

"So, what? You've just been having conjugal visits all the damn time? And the prison staff green-lit that?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly," Zemo answered, then glanced at Irina. They shared a look before she explained further.

"I can teleport. I met Helmut when I was tasked with extrapolating information about HYDRA from him, and he refused to share anything unless the prison staff agreed to let him meet with me twice a week, just to chat, in which case he'd give them tidbits of information bi-monthly. They agreed, and before long, I revealed my ability to him. I'd visit him in his cell occasionally, because the cameras only show half of it. Over time, well… we fell in love. Nikolai came a few years later, and now…" Irina trailed off, then rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Why didn't you ever bust him out?" James asked.

"I can only teleport small distances with another person, and I can only do it twice at the most, so we'd have never made it off the grounds."

James and Sam were silent for a moment, absorbing the information they'd been given. Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Zemo, you said this little pitstop would benefit me and Bucky. But it's not like she can go with us," he said, sounding a bit irritated as he gestured towards Irina’s stomach. "So what the hell was the point?"

"It does benefit you. You now possess the knowledge that a teleporter exists. Congratulations," Zemo said dryly, then looked at his wife and son for a moment, before returning his attention to the men. "Sam, the point was that I lost my family when Sokovia was destroyed, and the family I have now has only ever seen me inside a prison cell. I wanted my son to have at least one memory of his father in his home with him."

James – no, Bucky, apparently – and Sam exchanged a look, before Bucky sighed and looked to Zemo.

"You have one hour. Sam and I will be guarding the exits, so don't try to escape. If you do…." He trailed off after glancing at Nikolai. "Let's just say it won't be pretty."

True to their word, Sam and Bucky remained stationed outside the home, one out front and one out back. Zemo milked that hour as much as possible, spending most of it in his son’s room with him and Irina, listening intently to Nikolai tell him all about what’s been going on at school, his favorite shows, the trip he took to the zoo the day before with Irina, etc.. He even told Zemo about each and every one of his toys, simply enjoying talking to his dad, and although Zemo was the one to send almost every one to him, therefore he already knew about them, he didn’t mention that. He simply listened intently as his son spoke, enjoying the quality time with him, exchanging smiles and occasional kisses with Irina. She showed him the nursery she’d been working on for their daughter, and he finished putting together the crib she’d started, Nikolai happily handing him parts and screws as needed. Zemo also moved the dresser and changing table to where she’d wanted them but couldn’t move them herself, then they settled into the living room shortly before the hour was up.

Sam and Bucky reentered the house to find the family sitting around the coffee table, playing a game of Jenga. They stood silently in the doorway to the living room, watching as Nikolai carefully drew a block from the tower before placing it back on the top with a triumphant look on his little face. Zemo commended his concentration, then drew a block himself, although he intentionally wiggled it a little so that the tower came toppling down.

“I won! Daddy, I won!”

“Yes, you did, my son. Excellent job,” Zemo said warmly, then glanced at Sam and Bucky before scooping the boy up into a tight hug. “Daddy has to go now, but I will see you again soon.”

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. But I need you to promise me something before I leave. Take care of your mom for me, will you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Zemo said with a smile, then kissed Nikolai’s forehead and set him down. Zemo stood and helped Irina stand up, hugging her tightly as he buried his face into her neck. Quietly, so that no one but her could hear, he said, “I will not be going back to prison unless there is no other way, but know that yours and our children’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“I know, Helmut,” Irina whispered back, and he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, my angel,” Zemo murmured against her lips, then stooped down to hug his son again. “And I love you, Nikolai.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” the boy responded, and the way his voice quivered as he choked back tears broke his parents’ hearts into a million pieces. Reluctantly, Zemo let him go and he wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg, resting his head against her as he sniffled and she rubbed his back.

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Irina commanded.

Zemo nodded to her before walking over to join Sam and Bucky. With one last heartbroken look at his family, he left, closing the door behind him as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t meet the other men’s eyes as he walked over to the car, and after they all piled in, they drove in silence to the airport, off to their next stop in Madripoor.

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

@henrysmorgan @clints-lucky-arrow @therenlover

#apologies to therenlover if you dislike being tagged; you mentioned some dad!Zemo stuff recently so it made me think to tag you #if you'd rather not be tagged in anything just let me know; i won't be at all offended!#also the same goes for you Mack #Chase you don't get a choice bc you catalyzed my love for Zemo + you're my best friend so you are obligated to deal with me #zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo fan fiction #zemo fan fic #zemo fanfic #zemo fanfiction #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo fan fiction #baron zemo fan fic #baron zemo fanfiction #baron zemo fanfic #baron zemo fic #baron helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo fan fiction #baron helmut zemo fan fic #baron helmut zemo fanfiction #baron helmut zemo fanfic #baron helmut zemo fic #helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo fan fiction #helmut zemo fanfic #helmut zemo fan fic

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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

Text

We’re Worlds Apart (1)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj/Muggle fem!reader

Post-Battle of Hogwarts

warnings: language

series m.list | general m.list

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif cred)

"They want... me?"

Draco Malfoy sat across his supervisor in his office at St. Mungos. His eyes widened at the offer he was given.

"Well Mr. Malfoy, you've certainly shown us around here that you do well at your job. If I must say so myself, I believe you're ready for the job," his boss has explained. Draco had recently finished his Fellowship and became a remarkable Healer. So much so that the Santa Marie Hospital for Maj Persons in Buffalo, New York contacted his supervisor to offer him a position as Head Healer. It was an incredible opportunity, one that a person could only dream of.

Draco sat still in his chair, shocked that of all Healers from his department, Santa Marie wanted him. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco was determined to change the views people had of him. He was no longer the prejudice prat that he was at school. Draco Lucius Malfoy is now a matured, capable young man. He worked hard and was proud that he did everything on his own. No help from daddy dearest, no pressure of the Malfoy name. It was all him.

"I would love to take this job. When would I start?"

Draco finished filing his paperwork at the Ministry of Magic that was to be sent to the Magical Congress of the United States containing his work permit and all the necessary identification. Walking around London, he grew excited about it. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since he got his letter for Hogwarts.

The next thing he has left to do was to find housing. There was an office located in Diagon Alley that specialized in international real estate. Draco walked into the brightly lit office. Much to his surprise, Daphne Greengrass stood at the reception desk.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Malfoy," she said with a smile on her lips. He was quite relieved to see a familiar face. "Good to see you too, Daph. I'm checking in to see Ms. Moreau. I'm moving to America soon." Daphne was both shocked and impressed that Draco would be making such a big move. They chatted momentarily about the reason for him moving and she congratulated him. Soon enough, the real estate agent walked out and called Draco into her office.

She sat at her desk and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Moreau," Draco had slightly bowed his head.

"Please, call me Gwen," she smiled as she reached to shake his hand, "I see from your paperwork that you're moving to America, correct?" he nodded his head in response. "Fantastic! Now, looking at the locations for Buffalo, we have quite a bit of selections from houses to flats. Of course, in America they're called 'apartments'. With your budget, you would be able to get this nice house that is just a 10 minute drive to the Apparition office to Santa Marie's." She showed Draco pictures of the house. It was quaint. An all white, one story house that had three bedrooms, a lifted porch, small kitchen, two bathrooms, trimmed green grass in front and a dark stained wooden fence that went around the house. Draco nearly fell in love with it. Its contrast to the Malfoy Manor was warm and inviting.

Gwen had shown him pictures of the other places she had gathered for him, but none of them peeked his interest as the first house did. It was quite silly as he thought about it. Most likely, he would be working long hours at the hospital to even be able to appreciate the home. It made more sense to get an apartment as he would most likely just use the space to sleep and eat. But the house was begging for him to live there. After about an hour long session, Draco made his final decision on the small house.

"Excellent choice, I had hoped you'd love it. Now, before I contact the sellers about your offer, I must let you know this before you sign anything," Draco shifted in his seat. Of course there had to be a catch. A house this perfect needed one thing to go wrong. Was it busted windows? A terrible neighborhood? Shitty pipelines? He nodded for her to continue.

"This is an integrated neighborhood. Both muggles and wizards live around and you might not know which are which for a while." Muggles. He sat in silence, staring down at the photos of the house. Did he really want a muggle neighbor? No, you're past this Draco thought. The old Draco wouldn't even give the place a second thought. But he wasn't him anymore. "I don't care. I'll take it."

—

You woke up in the morning, stretching your arms and legs out of the thick blanket. It was currently 8:47 am, your alarm clock beside you still had 13 minutes to alert you to wake up. Deciding to just get a head start on the day, you walked into the your bathroom and started your shower. The water was at the hottest you took and you went about your daily routine. You said your repeated incantations in the shower as you lathered yourself with soap:

Water, water, wash away. Water, water, cleanse today.

Walking out your shower, you grabbed your towel and recited the next spell as you dried yourself:

By the earth in the soap,

by the air in the steam,

by the fire that heats the water,

by the water that cleanses,

I am cleansed, clean, and ready for the day.

When you were 12 years old, you used to watch your grandmother perform Wicca in her bedroom. Your mother didn't particularly join in on the belief, but also didn't oppose to you starting alongside your grandmother when you turned 18. Now, you were almost 26 and still kept on the same practices.

On the contrary to people's interpretation or views of witchcraft, you called yourself a White Witch; someone who performs good magick upon selfless reasons. You never hexed anyone nor wished any ill fate. The Laws of Nature was surely watching at all times and if you did, expect to get the same fate but in threefold. Not that you even had any reason to do such things, anyways.

After getting ready, you grabbed your bag, keys — which held a protection charm — and went on your way to work. Your cat sat in her tower located in your living room and she watched you walk out. Getting into your car, you noticed movement next door. A big, moving truck was parked and a crew of movers carried furniture into the house. Finally, someone new you thought.

Feeling nosy, you sat patiently to figure out who it was moving next door. Was it a family? An elderly couple? Maybe newlyweds. Right when you were about to pull out of your driveway, a handsome blond stepped out of the house guiding the movers where things were going to be placed. You couldn't hear his voice, but could tell from the distance that it had to be attractive.

He looked around the street and caught you starting from your car. You hesitantly raised your hand to wave at him but was cut off by a man walking up to him with a clipboard gesturing where to sign. You looked at the time on your watch and nearly panicked at how the time passed, leaving you with only 15 minutes to get to work. Hauling ass, your car let a screech out as your foot punched the gas pedal. You'll be able to introduce yourself later, Y/N.

—

A few days passed and Draco was headed for the Apparition office to his new workplace. He had leased a new car to drive there. According to the Magical Congress, wizards and witches that lived in integrated neighborhoods must check in at Apparition offices to not raise suspicions from No-Maj. Seemed quite silly at first, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. He remembers the first time he went to Diagon Alley with his father through the Leaky Cauldron, finding it hidden with a wall that required taps against it. Behind it, a magical alley hidden from muggles.

He pulled into the office building lot with ease. It was clean on the outside and had a sign on top that only read MCA Co,. At the front door, there was a pin pad with numbers on it that kept it locked. Draco pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. The door made a clicking noise which signaled that it was unlocked.

In the front was a young man sat at a reception desk typing away onto a computer. It was a strange sight for Draco as he's never seen one before. He walked up to the desk and waited for the person to acknowledge him.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to the Magical Congress' Apparition Office. May I see your ID pass, please?"!the accent was unfamiliar to Draco, but he nonetheless reached for the pass clipped to his trousers and gave it to the receptionist. He scanned the pass, handed it back to Draco and raised up from his chair to guide Draco to the door which had a direct line to the hospital. "Have a good day, sir!" were his last words before he went back to his desk.

Draco looked at the address once more before appariting into Santa Marie's. Here goes nothing.

—

It was a long day at the office. Setting up appointments with new clients, greeting all the new people he'd be working with, and a surprise welcome party to end it. Everyone he met had different variations of American accents. Some from Chicago, some from California, and some from the native state of New York.

A man by the name of Ian Parker helped Draco navigate around the building. Draco was quite relieved to hear that Ian had lived close by, just two blocks and a turn away. They had lunch together and talked about just simple things about each other. It felt nice to meet somebody and they not know who you are and things you've done in the past.

Once he got home, the first thing Draco did was start to run the shower, gathering his sleepwear as the water heated up. Not meaning to, Draco noticed how his bedroom window had perfect view of yours. To him, it was extremely odd.

You had faux vines that curled around your four-poster bed, a couple of plants that hung against the wall and posters of movies that Draco knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. You walked into your room and went up to a small drawer and dug through it. After a few seconds, you grabbed out some incense sticks, lit them and stood them on the stand that laid on your dresser. Afterwards, you sat on the floor with your legs crossed and started taking deep breaths.

Draco caught himself staring for too long and was about to head into the shower until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. There you sat, but this time, you held items in your hands. One held what Draco thought to be just some colorful rocks. The other hand held a bundle of herbs on fire at the tips. Your lips moved and it had Draco curious. Your hand with the herbs moved in a specific pattern, creating smoke around you. Once you finished, you set the rocks and herbs down at a table and left the room. That was odd. Draco thought. He passed it off and went on about his night.

—

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. And trust me when I say that Hogwarts has its fair shares of odd moments," Draco sat in the break room with Ian and two other people, Ashley and Blaine. They laughed at the description Draco had of you and settled after Ian began his explanation.

"It seems that your No-Maj neighbor is considered a Wiccan." What in Merlin's name is that?

"Pardon? What's do you mean?"

"It's what they call witchcraft," Ashley added, "it became a popular thing after the Salem Witch Trials. Of course, there's no real magic to it like what we can do, but they nonetheless believe it works."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Muggles are trying to be witches? This was probably the last thing he ever thought he would hear. Inside, a familiar feeling had ignited. A feeling he had, or he supposed still had, for a certain species. He didn't like it but to find out that what he is had become a fantasy to be was upsetting. He was born into this life, not them. Not you.

—

It had been a really nice day at work. People had been kind and you sold out of a new oil you made. As you entered your home, your cat ran up to your legs and purred against you. You smile down at her and made your way to prepare your dinners.

She nibbled away at her bowl and you watched in content.

Outside, you heard a car pulling in. It's probably him. You peaked out the window in the living room and your guess was correct. He stepped out of a black car and walked to his door. You tried catching his attention by waving your arms about, hoping he glanced your way. When he did, you waved excitedly to him.

He stared at you with a straight face, no hint of any feeling. It was odd, people usually like you and wave back but this guy was just looking at you. Not doing anything. You looked around to see if there was something behind you, only to look back and see that he was gone. Ooo...kay?

You grabbed your sweater and decided to introduce yourself to your new neighbor. It had been almost a week and it seemed that he still hadn't acquainted himself to anyone on the street. The cool, spring breeze sent a pleasant chill down your spine as you walked on the sidewalk.

Once you stepped in front his door, you knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. The lights that were on had turned off and curtains had been shut in almost a blink of an eye. He had made it clear that he was not in a mood to talk to anyone. It slightly hurt your feelings, but you told yourself to not dwell on it. He's just tired from work. Just then, an idea popped in your mind as you headed back home.

—

"Stupid fucking muggle clock," Draco cursed as he was running around his bedroom getting dressed. He overslept by an hour and had 10 minutes to be in the Apparition office to go to work. Damn American laws.

He grabbed an apple, not his usual sour green one but a sweet red one this time, grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Something taped to the door caught his attention and he halted his movements. It seemed to have been a note someone left. He unfolded the paper and read it to himself;

Hello! My name's Y/N and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I hope we can become good friends~ if there's anything you need or if you'd ever like to get acquainted over coffee, please feel free to knock on my door! It'd be nice to get to know you :)

At the bottom of the note was a small drawing of a witches pointed hat and Draco immediately knew who left the note. Almost on instinct, the note caught on fire in his hands and the ashes fell to the ground. He dusted his hand off and went to work. As if we would ever become friends.

—

next chp

taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco x you

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fairyoftbz · 4 years ago

Text

Retrouvailles | l. hyunjae

💐 pairing: florist!hyunjae x fem!reader 💐 genre: cliché fluff 💐 word count: 2.6k 💐 tw: i think i swore once or twice? 💐 synopsis: you are back in your hometown after living in paris for years with your family and a special encounter won’t make you regret your decision. 💐 requested: yes from kyu! i hope you’ll like it!! 💌 💐 a/n: i am so sorry but i absolutely love writing for florist!au, i promise it’s the last one ! (of this series) constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Looking around you as you got off the bus, you scoffed in utter shock as this neighbourhood hadn’t changed at all, even if you left eight years ago. All the shops and cafes remained the same, just two new ones got added to the ones that you always found welcoming and cute.

You got a weird sensations when you came back from school a few years ago, your parents stopping you in the entrance and asking you to follow them in the living room. Your siblings were already there, and they all looked down, your little sister on the verge of crying. You were fourteen at this time, and you had imagined the worst.

“Mom, Dad, what’s happening?” you worriedly asked, trying to catch your older brother’s gaze, but his head remained low, a visible disappointed look on his face. “It’s a bit complicated, sweetie, but Dad found a job in Europe. We are going to receive more money and live more comfortably, but we have to follow him,” your mother tried her best to explain you the situation without hurting you, but it was to no avail. You couldn’t control the tears submerging your eyes and cried uncontrollably, your mother rushing to take you in her arms.

“When are we coming back, Mom? Are we going to keep the house? I don’t want other people to live here,” your mother soothingly rubbed your back, trying to ease your pain, and she nodded. “I don’t know baby, but your grandparents are going to live here, it’s better than the house they currently have,” you pouted as you kept on crying, your mother resting a reassuring hand on the back of your head as she drew you closer, but immediately abandoned her arms as soon as your little sister started crying, rushing to hug her instead.

The move was hard, packing all your stuff had you feeling extremely sad to leave all your memories behind, unsure about the future years. The next day, you bid farewell to all your friends, hugging them tightly as you spent your last day at school trying to find solace in your friends and classmates’ presence before leaving. You cried in your best friend’s arms right in front of your mother’s car, and waved at her until she disappeared from the rear-view mirror.

Paris was a wonderful city, not quite like in the movies, but it was still charming. French was a tough language and you kind of struggled go get yourself understood because the other students didn’t really speak your native language, but with many months that turned into years of trying, you managed to now have a decent level in the language of love.

Despite your passion and admiration for this city, creating landmarks in the surrounding neighbourhoods as well as making friends were not easy tasks. However, with the help of your siblings and your parents, you had managed to make a bunch of friends, and that did you good when you didn’t have to think too much when you were talking since you were conversing in your native language.

Your time is France was amazing, you created great memories with awesome friendships, but you couldn’t help feeling nostalgic sometimes. You missed your neighbourhood, your grandparents, and your other relatives, only being able to see and talk to them via Skype or FaceTime. Years passed, and finally, at 22 years old, you decided to let your family in France, where your siblings had already constructed things with people, and come back where you grew up, where you felt like your heart truly belonged.

The shock on your face had to be very visible since some bystanders threw you a weird look as you stood stoic in the middle of the pavement. Spontaneously walking inside the kiosk that was as old as you remembered it, you warmly greeted the owner, an elderly woman that hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same hunched shoulders, long, white hair secured in a tight bun by a flower pin, her wrinkled smile was still as warm and as wise as you knew it when you were buying sweets from her.

You exchanged a few words with her, giving you a pack of the sweets you used to buy and the prepaid card you asked for. You still had your French number, so it’d cost you a kidney if you ever decided to call your relatives with it. The old woman looked extremely happy and somewhat pleased to see you, because she admitted that she got worried when you suddenly stopped passing by and buy sweets.

“And you decided to come back, how wonderful,” she said with her shaky, warm voice while handing you what you just bought. You smiled at her and nodded, eyes slightly widening when she grabbed your wrist. “If you need anything, my husband and I will be happy to help. I’m glad to see you back by us,” she said, and you felt your heart flutter. It was truly where you belonged. “Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you answered as she winked, wishing you a great day.

The fresh air welcomed you once you got out, feeling it clear your lungs from the slight more polluted air from Paris. You opened the bag of sweets and munched on a few, feeling the memories rushing back in your mind as you started wandering around the neighbourhood. You quickly texted your cousin that you were near their house, but he was probably too busy playing video games or napping, so you decided to go grab something more consistent to eat and wandered around, walking further into different areas.

The beautiful, light colours of a shop window caught your attention, not remembering its existence when you were younger. You got near the window and observed inside, discovering a jungle of beautiful flowers arranged by species. A manly back was working behind the checkout, assembling a bouquet of what seemed to be roses. You were tempted to go inside the shop to know more about this new place, but you quickly hid from the window when the man turned around. His face looked familiar, a tingling sensation appearing in your stomach as you tried to remember him. You knew him from somewhere, you were sure of it, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

The young man inside the shop slightly frowned as he saw someone suddenly disappearing from the window, the hems of their long brown coat lingering in his gaze. He slightly shrugged with a smile and petted the cat at his feet, who was demanding cuddles and attention. His hands were occupied with the order he had just finished preparing and he wrapped the flowers in some brown paper craft before placing it in the back office, where all the other orders were ready to get delivered by his co-worker Juyeon. He finished his cup of now cold coffee that was forgotten on the main counter, hearing the bell above the door chime.

Much to his great disappointment, it wasn’t the young lady that vanished before his eyes, it was Juyeon’s mother, who was here to pick up flowers for his sick grandmother. Hyunjae hid his dismay behind a warm smile, quickly pacing back and forth to give her the bouquet and bank her total.

A middle-aged woman walking out of the shop looked at you from the side as you still hid, tugging on your lower lip, rummaging your mind in order to find who this man was. You were getting frustrated as you stomped the floor with your foot, getting tired of your brain playing tricks on you as you were sure that you knew this man.

“Fuck it, I’m going in,” you said as you pushed the door open, the intense smell of flowers and pollen attacking your nostrils. It smelt really nice and welcoming, but your allergies said otherwise.

You sneezed once, twice, and one last time before you could properly greet the man in front of you. He looked as curious as you were, he must have seen you since you weren’t the best at hiding.

“Welcome to the Butterfly flower shop, how can I help you?” the voice of the man sending a nice wave of chill down your spine, feeling yourself smile at who seemed to be the owner of the shop. “Hello, I’m just going to look around for a while,” you said while gesturing to all the flowers around you, sniffling to try and hold a sneeze in, but it didn’t help at all. It actually did the exact opposite that you had wished.

Hyunjae empathically smiled as you kept on sneezing, trying his best not to vocal how cute you were when the pollen seized your entire nostrils. You apologised profusely, mentally cursing yourself for being so curious. Maybe, just maybe, you should have stayed outside and admire him from afar, you wouldn’t be embarrassing yourself just like you were doing right now. But it was so tempting, you had to take a look. He was nice enough to hand you a pack of tissues, which you gladly took with a nod.

“I’ll be in the back office for a minute, don’t hesitate to ask me if you need any help,” he said with a warm smile and you nodded, holding a tissue to your face. “I appreciate it, thank you,” you answered as you started looking around the shop. All the flowers were beautiful, it was really tempting to just buy one of each without even caring about the prices. Since this was impossible, your eyes landed on some daisies, whose petals looked really nice and healthy. You felt bad to have made your choice just a few seconds after the man left for the back office, so you decided to wait for a bit.

Yet, another bad idea. Your nose felt ticklish, no matter how hard you rubbed your finger under it, it only became worse.

“Hum excuse me?” you politely said, and the man reappeared almost instantly, close to scaring you. His whole face lit up just with a smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. Staring at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as you detailed his face, his smile and manners hitting you like a truck.

This man was none other than Hyunjae, the young boy you had a crush on during the late years of middle school, right before you left for France. He grew up so much, yet his facial features had barely changed, they only matured. His smile was the thing that made you fall for him, his personality and physical features not helping the hopeless romantic that you were. You barely talked to him when you were younger, only when you were assigned in groups with him since he always hung out with the athletes and dancers, a group that you were dying to join but never did. Hyunjae was an incredible dancer, always performing for the school team and even outside.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” you heard his voice bringing you back to reality, feeling embarrassment invading your body as you’ve probably been staring at him for long, way too long to not be weird. “I’m-I’m sorry. Can I have a bouquet of those daisies over there, please?” you asked, and he nodded. “Sure thing,” walking around the counter, you followed him to the said daisies, the man gathering a good portion of his stock. Your eyes widened a bit but didn’t dare to say anything, only to follow him back to the counter.

“Are you from here? My usual customers are my acquaintances or the people living in the neighbourhood,” his voice trailed as he arranged the flowers, briefly looking at you with a smile before busying his hands in the plants again. “I was actually born and raised here, but I had to follow my father abroad for his job,” you said while delicately touching the petals of a peony right next to your head. Hyunjae’s hands stopped, and he looked up, eyes going wide. “You are from here? Where in the neighbourhood?” “I grew up in the house right at the corner of the street, the beige one with the burgundy wooden shutters and the garden.” “Hold on. Y/N?” his voice sounded so light-hearted as his eyebrows raised in shock. It was his turn to look at you with a surprised look on his face, his mouth stretching in a wide smile.

You offered him a smile and you fell in a comfortable silence. Thousands of questions were trotting in your head, dying to ask the other, but you were both trying to find a topic that didn’t sound too curious and invading. And it was hard because you both became suddenly very shy, your attention focusing on the flowers. It was normal for you, but Hyunjae wasn’t the type of guy to get intimidated this easily.

“So-” you both said at the same time and chuckled together, the florist gesturing you to go first. “No, no, go ahead.” “So you decided to finally come back? I understand if you missed this town, I would too,” he said and you smiled, approving his words. “I was too tired from France, plus I missed my family that stayed here. I just wanted to pay them a visit and maybe stay over until I find another place to stay on my own,” you explained while observing your former crush wrapping the flowers you had chosen.

He secured them in the same crafted paper he did for the previous bouquet, placing it on the counter closer to you. Handing him your credit card, you stayed with your hand hanging in the void, Hyunjae typing something on the cash register. He religiously ignored your card and handed you the bouquet, giving you the brightest smile he could.

“Take this as a gift to welcome you back in town,” he said and your eyes widened, hand slowly moving away. “I can’t accept this,” you said, suddenly feeling nervous. Hyunjae encouraged you to take the flowers by placing them right under your nose with a smirk, tickling your nose. “Please do. Welcome back in town, Y/N,” he said as he noticed some fallen petals stuck on his dark green apron, wiping them away before offering you a smile.

You took the flowers away from your face and sheepishly smiled, thanking him for his generosity.

“Thank you, really,” you said with a shy voice, struggling to look at him in the eyes. He shook his head, indicating you that it was nothing, and he cleared the counter. “Have a lovely day, Hyunjae. It was good to meet you again,” you said as you walked to the door, hand on the knob. “Wait Y/N- would you like to get some coffee sometimes? I’d love to hear about your time in France and… get to know you a bit better and make up for lost time?” His offer wasn’t something you had expected, but who were you to refuse getting closer to your former crush.

This random encounter with him had your heart fluttering like it did when you watched him perform in front of the entire school a few years ago, when you were still a young teenager hopelessly in love. It was hammering in your chest, warmth travelling in your entire body as a radiant smile appeared on your face.

“I’d love to.” You said with a smile as you walked back to the counter, only to take the business card he was handing you. Your eyes landed on the black ink scratching the phone numbers, only to find another one messily written at the top of the small card. You thanked him and walked through the front door, waving at him with a smile as you walked away, clutching the piece of paper tightly in your palm, excited of what this reunion was going to offer you.

╰☆☆ Les retrouvailles nous font rappeler de vieilles histoires, mais elles consentent également à en créer de nouvelles. ☆☆╮

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loserholland · 4 years ago

Text

𝐀 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader ft Morgan Stark (platonic)

Warning ➺ Slight TFATWS spoiler, some angst, pure fluff, Morgan being a comedian

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ After the blip and loosing his best friend, you were there to keep Bucky grounded.

A/N ➺ Based off the song “I hear a symphony” by Cody Fry, such an amazing song. I’M ALSO SO SORRY IF I’M A LITTLE RUSTY

✿ 𝓟��𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe

☞ Masterlist ☜

Five years.

It had been five years before everyone returned, five years since Thanos snapped his fingers and wiped nearly 50% of the content. Five years of darkness, questioning whether or not those who turned to dust would come back. The thought of those who disappeared never coming back scared everyone, the thought of never seeing your mother, father, daughter, son- your friends and siblings again?

(Y/N) was one of the lucky ones to not turn to dust, but watching those around her slowly disintegrate never failed to bring her to tears every night. She was lucky enough to fight along side everyone, disobeying Tony’s order of staying put and “letting the adults handle it” she instead convinced Rhodey to let her follow, claiming if he let her he’d be her favorite uncle.

That’s where she saw him again, after nearly two years since Berlin. She had of course stuck by her father’s side and when he had gone to Sibera she stood with him. That’s when they had learned the winter soldier had killed her father’s parents. (Y/N) never entirely blamed Bucky, he never did it. It was the Winter Solider, not Bucky.

Tony always said she had her mothers heart and if her mom was still around she’d be proud of her, for always trying to see the best in people whether they’re good or bad.

“Wow, you’ve grown kid.”

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

A voice all too familiar spoke slowly she turned on her heels, his hair was still long it grew merely a few inches. He had also grown out his beard, the last time she had saw him it was more over stumble. She chuckled lightly stepping forward but keeping some distance between them, “Kid? I’m twenty-one James, plus we’ve been over this- I hate it when you guys call me kid!”

Bucky let out a small laughter showing off his pearly white teeth, there was always something about Bucky that made (Y/N)’s stomach fill with butterflies. I mean- who wouldn’t? Bucky was a handsome man.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

“How have you been old-man?”

(Y/N) was the only person who had called Bucky by his first name, of course you had seen his files and even read about him smithsonian exhibit. She just felt she didn’t have the right to call him Bucky due to not knowing him long enough.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes” she read to herself, reading the following description of the man.

That’s when you first saw how handsome this he was. And, when you first met him in Berlin it was amazing to see him up close. Well it’s not so amazing when some dumbass breached the centre and turned him back into the winter solider for a minute causing him to well fight everyone in his path.

After your dad’s ass was handed to him, he surely handed your ass to you he had you in a choke hold against the wall, your feet was a few inches above the ground.

“James, please.”

He’s eyes widened every so slightly tightening his metal hand around your throat, you felt yourself slide down against the wall gasping for air watching as T’Challa and him fought one another.

“I’ve been good, I’ve never felt so- calm an at peace in a while.”

(Y/N) smiled, that was good, it was good to see him happy for once and not afraid he’ll hurt someone again. He was brave and strong, from what she had read in the smithsonian exhibit and what she had seen in the past two years.

“Guys lets go, and kid stop leaving my sight your dad will kill me if anything happens!” (Y/N) groaned and stomped her feet to the ground “Uncle Rhodey! Stop calling me kid!” Bucky only chuckled at her, a sense of warmth filled his body- an uncommon warmth.

𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸

(Y/N) knocked on Bucky’s apartment door, “Why aren’t we at the zoo yet?” Morgan questioned looking up at her older sister in confusion- Pepper was out of town dealing with business so she had to bring Morgan along to her.

When everyone came back, she had grown closer to Bucky. They had both lost someone, she had lost her father and he lost his best friend. Ever since her father’s death, she would dream about him often it started to become a regular thing after she started hanging out with Bucky. Last night’s dream, he had told her that if she got with Barnes he would be okay with it and to also apologize for blasting his arm off. Maybe it was just her subconscious playing tricks on her.

She crouched down slightly to be the same height as her sister, “Babe, remember I told you that my friend James would be coming along?” just then the door opened causing (Y/N) to fall back at the sudden movement. Instead of helping her sister up or asking if she was okay, she laughed and said “You fell on your booty.” oh, she was definitely Tony Starks daughter.

Bucky quickly helped her up apologizing for giving her a small fright, she noticed something different about Bucky he had cut his long hair. Just a few days ago he had it up in a man bun, “You cut your hair?” his brows furrowed, he ran his gloved fingers through his freshly cut hair “Does it look bad?” worry laced his voice.

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “No! It looks good!” Morgan looked between the two adults standing in front of her before she let out a dramatic sigh, “Can we go now?” with that Bucky locked grabbed his keys and locked the front door as they proceeded towards the elevator.

The Central Park Zoo was in walkable distance, so (Y/N) left he car parked in the garage of Bucky’s apartment. Morgan stared at Bucky gloved hand she tilted her head slightly before asking, “Why are you wearing gloves? Aren’t your hands sweating?” (Y/N) eyes widened looking at the top of Morgan’s head then to Bucky who was laughing.

“Morgan!”

“It’s a serious question.” she shrugged as she kicked her feet awaiting for an answer, “Well because, this arm-” he lifted his left arm “is made out of vibranium.” Morgan looked up at him before saying, “Cool- now swing!” she grabbed his hand causing (Y/N) to look at Bucky. She knew he was a bit touch sensitive, “Mor-” before she could say her sister’s name again Bucky cut her off “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” he took her small hand into his before pulling his arm back then forward.

𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰��

Bucky watched as you smiled whenever Morgan would let out a small giggle, he felt the same warmth he did back in Wakanda. The same warmth she could only give him. He was grateful to have her in his life, she gave him the benefit of the doubt seeing the good and accepting the bad. He knew that she knew his history but still befriended him anyways saying, “there’s good in everyone even if you can’t see the good in you, I do.”

“How has therapy been going?” They stood behind the four year old who was admiring the penguins. Bucky shrugged lightly fixing his gaze to his shoes, “‘ts been good.” he mumbled. It had been about two weeks since he started therapy with Dr.Christina Raynor, you knew he had trouble opening up and well at most times never opened up at all.

Morgan came running back to the two, “I wanna see the red pandas.” she grabbed theirs hands and began to drag them towards her current favorite animal at the moment.

She wondered if he still had nightmares, there were times he’d call her just to talk because he couldn’t go back to sleep. The sound of an old sitcom could be heard in the background anytime he’d call.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

Bucky watched as (Y/N) carried Morgan in her arms pointing at the red pandas, red pandas? How are they even pandas? Bucky thought to himself, watching as (Y/N) made Morgan giggle loudly she must have said some kind of joke. He watched as she turned her head slightly catching her eye, he began to notice this twinkle whenever she was smiling or talking about something she’s passionate about or enjoyed.

"So, what did you think?” the credits of Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone began to roll in. As far as Bucky knew, the only wizard he had read about before was Gandalf in the hobbit. Who would’ve thought about writing a book about a 11 year old wizard?

“It was surprisingly good.” He watched as her eyes lit up the corners of her lips tugging upwards. He loved to see her smile, to see the twinkle in her eye just before she spoke on about how much she loved something.

“I knew you would like it! Gosh it’s amazing- I could go on about the wizarding world but I’m sure you would rather not-”

“I have the time.”

(Y/N) had concluded Bucky would belong in Hufflepuff and basically forced him to take the pottermore test in which she was correct, he was in fact a hufflepuff. She had gone on why he’s in hufflepuff- though he didn’t really care about the reasons he just wanted to hear her talk.

“You have a lovely family.”

The comment caused Bucky to turn his head slightly pulling him from the recent memory, an elderly woman who seemed to be in her late sixties gave him a warm smile. “Uh- she’s actually my-” what is she to me? Before Bucky could answer (Y/N) had walked over with Morgan still in her arms.

“Hey, ready to go?”

Before Bucky could answer the lady spoke again, “I was just telling your husband you have a lovely family.” (Y/N) eyes widened her mouth slightly agape before responding, “We’re actual friends and, she’s my younger sister.” friends.

“Oh, my apologies. Have a great rest of your day.”

(Y/N) gave the lady a warm smile watching as she walked away, “Well, I think you’ve seen enough animals don’t you think?” Morgan tapped her index finger against her chin pinching her brows together, sometimes she was just a mini version of your dad or sometimes Pepper- but mostly Tony.

“Yeah- I’m hungry.”

Making their way towards the exit the gift shop had caught Morgan’s eye, specifically a red panda plush she shrieked loudly causing (Y/N) to jump with caution thinking something was wrong with her little sister, while Bucky stood there with his eyes widened.

“I need it!”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed, “Morgan- you know mom is gonna be mad at me if I get you yet another red panda plush. Remember, you have like a billion of them.” Morgan pouted slightly crossed her arms across her chest and stomped away.

“Dad would’ve gotten it for me!” (Y/N) frowned at the comment, of course he would’ve- he loved seeing the smile on your face anytime he got you something whether you were five or nineteen.

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦

“I’ll meet you guys outside- I’m gonna use the restroom.” Bucky spoke, watching as she ran after her little sister. Well- he didn’t actually need to use the restroom- he had gotten the plush Morgan was head over heels for. He waited a couple minutes before finally exiting the zoo spotting (Y/N) holding Morgan in her lap as they sat on a bench not too far from the exit.

He held the plush behind his back, as he drew closer he could hear Morgan sob quietly. He sat down next to (Y/N) leaning his head slightly onto her shoulder, “Hey Morgan.” the five year old pulled back slightly wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose lips still in a pout.

Slowly he pulled the plush that was hidden behind his back into view, watching as Morgan’s eyes widened an a huge smile paint her lips quickly she snatched it from his hand and hugged it turning her body from side to side.

Morgan hopped out of her sister’s lap and onto Bucky’s wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you, thank you!” she chanted catching Bucky off guard as he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Anytime kid.”

They walked back to Bucky’s apartment in comfortable silence, Morgan squealing every here and there every time she hugged her new plush. Once they had reached his apartment, Bucky offered for the two to stay for pizza which Morgan quickly agreed to.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳

(Y/N) and Bucky situated themselves in the kitchen cross from each other- (Y/N) sat on a stool while Bucky stood. Meanwhile Morgan was in the living room distracted with her new plush, “Thank you for getting her the plush- I- I just didn’t know how to react when she said-” Bucky placed his hand over hers squeezing it reassuringly, she squeezed back giving him a warm smile. They stayed like this for a few minutes before (Y/N) cleared her throat causing Bucky to pull his hand away.

“You never answered my question earlier, about therapy.” She watched as he tensed at the word therapy, truth be told. He was struggling, he was still having nightmares and he was having trouble opening up to his therapist. He gets annoyed whenever she pulls out her notebook and starts to scribble stuff down.

“I made amends with um- Senator Atwood. No one got hurt.” (Y/N) nodded, “That’s good! Any progress with Dr.Raynor?” Bucky sighed lightly, running his fingers through his hair, “Kind of? I mean every time I tell her I haven’t had a nightmare she gets all aggressive and writes in her notebook.”

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦

She frowned slightly, taking his hands into hers “James, you sometimes talk to me about your nightmares right?” he nodded slightly ushering her to continue, “You have to slowly open up- it’s gonna help James. And If you want, I’ll go with you. I’ll wait in the waiting room- whatever it takes to get you to talk.”

She cared so much about him, it made her chest feel heavy. She would do anything for him.

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

He had spent nearly seventy years as someone else, he was afraid that after he erased his past it would still catch up to him someday. That he would still become the winter solider even after all this therapy and time away.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

But you were there to reassure him that would never happen, that he was a good person and no longer the person he use to be. She was there to reassure him that he was James Buchanan Barnes and not the winter solider.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺

You were the light in his darkness, you were there to guide him and to stay by his side. He thought you’d run away after what he had done to your grandparents but you’re there to remind him that he had no choice that HYDRA had control over him but you knew deep down he tried to fight it.

Bucky tugged his hands back quickly pulling away from the counter and walked around to engulf (Y/N) into a hug, he was afraid that if he were to allow himself to love someone they’d only end up hurt. He didn’t want to loose her, he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Please don’t leave.”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “Why would I leave? I would never leave you Bucky.” he pulled away slightly, did he hear that right? “Did you just call me Bucky?” her eyes widened, “Oh I’m so-” he cupped her cheeks closing the gap between the two placing capturing her lips. Something he had been waiting to do.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

It was exactly like how people described sharing a kiss with someone they’ve longed to be with, fireworks and butterflies the way your skin heats up and your cheeks turn into a tomato red.

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around his wrist pulling back slightly for air a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Hello? Did you guys not here the door? Someone pay the guy!” Morgan carried the huge box of pizza and placed it onto her sisters lap before turning away to the living room. She quickly fetched her wallet wanting to beat Bucky from paying- but he knocked her wallet out of her hands and quickly rushed to the door.

She had given her sister a slice of pizza and ushered her to go back to the living room, “You make it seem as if I never saw people kiss before.” Morgan stuck her tongue out at her sister before returning to the living room.

“So-” Bucky began leaning against the doorway of the kitchen (Y/N) running up to him to wrap her arms around his neck the impact causing the two to fall to the ground with a loud thud. “You know- know a days people usually go on dates before the first kiss.” (Y/N) joked causing Bucky to smile, “Well in that case. (Y/N) would you like to go out tomorrow?” she quickly pecked his lips.

“I’d love to Bucky.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

#james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader #tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader

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buckyswheezes · 4 years ago

Text

Angel's Lies (Pt. 1)

Premise:

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?” The man raised a brow. “I’ve known you for three years and this if the first time you thanked me. Your boyfriend must be teaching your manners.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, James Barnes? He hasn't broken up with you yet, has he?”

There's only one reason why you decided to go to New York and that's to meet your long-lost twin sister, Sarah. But because of an accident that caused her death, you had to take your twin’s place -including her place in James Buchanan Barnes’ life.

“Sarah,” A voice spoke behind you.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t your sister when he beat you into speaking again.

“Your father is occupied with work right now. I have strict orders that he is not to be disturbed.

You couldn’t help but wonder how you’ll be a shadow of your sister during your brief stay here in New York. But that doesn’t matter much since you’ll also be leaving in a few days.

“How much do you need?” The man -he must be your father’s secretary- asked dryly as if it was something that normally happened.

“I really need to talk to him.” You replied in your slightly accented English.

The man audibly sighed. “Very well, I know how impatient you are.”

You watched as he trudged his way towards the glass door on the left before disappearing inside. You’re currently at a law firm in New York, not because you need legal assistance or anything of that sort, but because this is where your biological father worked.

And this is the first time you’re going to meet him.

You’re nervous. You’ve been fiddling with your sweaty palms since you arrived.

The door opened once more, and the man from earlier beckoned you to come. “You may come in.”

You stood up and approached him, a small smile on your face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” He raised a brow. “I’ve known you for three years, and this is the first time you thanked me. Your boyfriend must be teaching your manners.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, James Barnes?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words got stuck in your throat when a man appeared behind him. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

The secretary subtly observed Sarah after seeing her father’s expression. He had never known Sarah to be so well-mannered and reserved. In his opinion, Sarah’s very beautiful -her angelic face made her look innocent and youthful- but today, she looked extra dazzling. He can’t help but feel that something’s not right.

“Sarah…” The elderly man in a crisp suit muttered.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you entered his office that you barely heard the door close behind you. Your father stepped closer to you.

“You might be thinking-”

“You’re not Sarah.”

You don’t know what to feel at having been recognized by your father. For all you know, this was your first encounter with him. “Did my step-father talk to you?”

“No, no. The last time we talked was three years ago when your mother died.” Attorney Franklin Nelson’s face fell. His hand came up, and he briefly massaged his forehead.

“Mom told me that I… I have a sister.” You couldn’t bring yourself to call the man in front of you father. “How did you know I’m not.. her?”

“I was about to leave before you came. A relative of Sarah’s friend called, they -they were in an accident.” He let out a loud and long exhale.

“They’re at a hospital in South Carolina.”

You didn’t know why; you haven’t met her before, but panic gripped your heart. “Is she okay?” You asked.

Your question was met with silence.

“She.. is she dead?” Your voice trembled as your hair stood on ends.

“That’s what they told me, I didn’t want to believe them, and when I saw you earlier, I thought that the caller was just…” You know that your father is trying his best to not break down in front of you. “But you don’t take those kinds of things lightly. And even though the two of you look so much like each other, you still look different.”

“I want to go with you; I’d like to see her.”

He stepped closer to you and reached for your hands. His warm touch unknowingly comforted your troubled heart. He was still your father, after all.

“I understand, I know how much you want to see your sister, but I can’t let you. I don’t want your first and last sight of her to be that way. I’m sorry, I cannot take you with me.” He pleaded. “But there is one thing I would like to ask you to do.”

It surprised you how quickly you relented. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’m worried about mama, your grandmother.”

“Do you want me to tell her? I also want to meet her.”

Your father shook his head. “No, this news might kill her in her condition now, and I cannot survive another loss in the family.” He took a deep breath before speaking again, his eyes boring into yours. “I want you to go home and pretend to be Sarah.”

————————

A woman dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt entered the office. Earlier, your father called someone named Karen on the phone. She was your grandmother’s executive assistant back in the day when the now old woman ran her publishing company. Karen remained in your grandmother’s employ after she retired and is now in charge of the old woman’s personal engagements.

The three of you knew of your father’s plan -and just like you, Karen was against it. However, you didn’t have any other choice, so after the short introduction, she accompanied you to the hotel you stayed at to collect your things.

“Ms.Karen-”

“Just Karen.” She cut you off. “Sarah isn’t known to be polite. ”

Your mind reeled back to the secretary’s remark earlier when you thanked him, then it clicked. He was surprised by your manners - something your twin didn’t have- apparently.

“And you have to get used to people calling you Sarah.”

You sighed. “You’re right… K-Karen.”

As you moved about the suite, Karen’s lack of reaction regarding your sister’s death piqued your interest. You didn’t hesitate to ask why.

“I’m used to Sarah’s absence and occasional indifference when she’s around. I also want to help you for your grandmother’s sake; I can’t let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Sorry, I was just curious.”

She shook her head and flashed you a small smile -a first. “No worries.”

She moved to help you zip your baggage close. “By the way, your cousins might visit anytime soon, and I have to warn you, they’re not on good terms with your sister. So, if you don’t know anyone, just don’t speak to them; that’s normally how Sarah is.”

You held back the urge to roll your eyes. So your twin sister is known to be unsociable and taciturn -a stark contrast to you. This will be a little challenging for you because you cannot change your nature overnight.

As you waited for the family driver outside the hotel, you faced Karen.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Ms. Karen .” You slightly bowed your head. “I want to thank you in advance for helping me with this.”

She looked taken aback at your actions, but she finally flashed you a genuine smile when she regained herself. “You’re welcome, y/n. I wish we could’ve met in better circumstances.”

The car ride towards your new home -temporarily- was silent, not by choice. Your nerves are eating you up, and you couldn’t hold the conversation that Karen was trying to initiate. When you arrived at the house -which was big, bigger than you expected it to be - she led you towards the third room on the first floor. It was your sister’s room.

There’s a queen-sized bed pushed against the wall flanked between nightstands with lamps on it and a couple of framed photos. You strode towards the bed and sat before grabbing one of the pictures. It was a picture of your twin sister.

The heaviness in your heart resurfaced as you grazed your fingers on the smooth surface. If only you’d come sooner.

“Sarah, do you want to see your grandmother?” Karen’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced at her; she was standing by the door. You nodded silently and placed the picture back on the nightstand before following her out.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You heard a faint voice from the other side. You twisted the knob, the pounding of your heart getting louder as you pushed the door open.

“Grandma,” you greeted tentatively. With slow steps, you made your way across the room to where the old woman is sitting. She welcomed you with a kiss on your forehead.

You bit back the tears that formed in your eyes at the gesture.

“When did you arrive? I thought you’ll be away until Sunday?” She asked, the book on her lap now duly ignored as she shifted her attention to you.

“I wasn’t really enjoying the… um, trip.” You replied with a trembling smile. You decided to sit on the edge of the bed to prevent yourself from falling to your knees.

“Or maybe, you’re just missing Bucky?” She said, catching the playful tone in her voice.

“Bucky?”

She chuckled. “Don’t tell me you already forgot your boyfriend?”

Your throat went dry. Karen didn’t tell you anything about this Bucky -even the secretary mentioned something about him earlier.

“Sarah?” Your grandmother fixed her spectacles.

You gulped. “Yes… Grandma?” You still aren’t used to being called by your sister’s name.

“Did you and Bucky fight?”

You finally lifted your gaze to stare at her; if you can’t do your best in pretending now, then your father’s plan will go to waste. You didn’t want to disappoint him; in this one favor, he asked of you.

“We’re too old to fight.” You replied.

Your grandmother shifted her attention back to the book; you silently examined her. Despite the wrinkles and lines on her face, there was remarkable likeness to your father. You’re overjoyed to finally meet your family, but at the same time, it saddened you; they don’t know you for who you really are.

Bucky.

A faceless name appeared in your mind. You need to meet this man and have a talk. You admit to yourself that you’ve finally accepted this task of pretending to be your sister, but there’s a limitation.

—-

You once offered to read the book to your grandmother, but she refused, saying she knows how much you hated to read -again, a stark contrast to you since your room in Bucharest could be mistaken as a library.

Every day, your differences are revealing themselves.

There was a time when your grandmother asked why you weren’t swimming in the pool anymore. It turns out that Sarah was a swimmer (she even won a swimming contest in high school) while you prefer to just sit by the edge and let your feet dangle in the water.

Then she asked you why you weren’t going out every night anymore, your excuse was your friends weren’t in town.

You asked Karen about Sarah’s hobbies and other information that might be useful in pretending to be your sister. According to her, Sarah used to be a legal researcher in their father’s team but quit. Your father hoped that Sarah would also take up law, but your twin wasn’t too keen on the idea. She was still exploring her options for her career, Karen said when you asked what your twin did for a living.

In Bucharest, you are a librarian at Bucharest Metropolitan Library. You applied for a vacation leave for your supposedly- short trip here in New York, but you’re sure that you’ll soon lose your job in your home country if you continue to stay here.

Part 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #au bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

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underatedcharactersunite · 4 years ago

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Driving Home For Christmas!

Summary; You work for Baratheon Jewellers, Jon Snow is apart of the Stark family company who creates many beautiful pieces that are sold in your store. However, Jon is a notorious flirt and arrogant git, but what happens when you see Jon walking down the street after an horrible encounter with Catelyn. Modern AU. Pairing; Jon Snow x Female Reader WordCount;1,730 Warnings; Strong Language

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Jon Snow was a man who antagonised you to no end. Every day he can into your jewellery store delivering a new pieces of jewellery that he crafted. Jon Snow appeared every bit arrogant as he was rude. Jon entered every room believing he owned it To top it off Jon continuously threw flirtatious comments in your direction.

Stark jewellers were one of your largest clients, so you couldn't afford to anger your bosses by being rude to Jon Snow the illegitimate son of CEO Ned Stark. You needed this job, you couldn't afford to lose your job on top of Christmas.

Besides, apart from your negative interactions with Jon, you truly loved your job. Your boss Robert Baratheon was the best boss you'd ever had. He was kind, understanding and extremely funny. If you needed anything you knew you could turn to your boss As well s your interactions with the other members of the Stark family were never negative. You would go as far to consider, Sansa Arya and Robb as friends of yours.

As Christmas drew closer, busier you became. Customers came in there hundreds if not thousands trying to locate their perfect gift for their love one. You lost count of the number of customers you'd wrapped gifts for after their consultations. You were definitely on your way to achieve best seller for that extra Christmas bonus.

"Love, Jon will be coming in today to drop some more stock. Would you be able to handle it for me? I'm up to my eyes in paperwork and Joffery's decided to ditch once again. Honestly, you try to teach your son a trade. At least Gendry and Tommen want to learn the family business."

"Yeah of course I will. Don't worry about anything, I've got it covered" You continued to wipe down one of the many glass cabinets. Robert approached you carefully as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you, Love. Remember if you need anything all you need to do is ask. I see you as one of my daughters. Alright, I'll see you later, call me if you need anything."

"See you later, Robert." As he left, you suddenly felt a sinking feeling. Another day would soon be destroyed by the presence of Jon Snow. You could only hope your interaction would be short.

A couple of hours later, you were attending to an elderly gentlemen who was currently searching for his wife. Thy had been together for nearly thirty years.

"I don't know what I'm doing. There are so many options." Smiling, you hadn't be relieved to interact with such a sweet customer.

"It's okay Sir, feel free to take all the time you need. I can make you something to drink if you like. Picking the right present for a loved one ne can be difficult."

"Thank you for being so patient with me. Do you have someone special to buy a gift for this holiday season?

"No Sir, not this yearr" A frail hand rested ontop of yours, as you were met with a kind smile.

"You will meet your person, you mustn't give up hope"

"You could always buy me a special present." You fought the sudden urge to roll your eyes, Jon finally decided to make an appearance. Two hours late.

"Hello, Jon. I'll just hope this gentleman, and then I'll be over to you" Jon quickly took a seat in one of the leather chairs located in the centre of the room.

"I don't mind waiting, not for you Sweetheart." Jon sent you an overzealous wink. Shrugging him off, you returned your full attention to the elderly gentleman.

Never before had you been grateful for an indecisive customer. Throughout, you felt Jon's eyes running all over you. You friend from snapping at him. Although Jon's passive-aggressive antagonization couldn't halt your alation when the elderly gentleman chose a beautiful matching set of ruby earrings and necklace. The gentleman was ecstatic he managed to combat his indecisiveness.

Although the moment he left the store, you were forced to place your full attention onto Jon. As he strode up to the counter, you quickly forced a smile onto your lips.

"The way you engaged with that old man just now was pretty sexy"

"Thank you Jon. It's called being a personable human, perhaps you should try it sometime."

"I'll try it, if you let me take you out on a date"

"ell it looks like your staying as the arrogant, childish rude man child that you are. Robert mentioned you were here to deliver more stock"

"Straight to business, there I thought we were getting somewhere"

"Jon we are never going to et somewhere. Now can we just get on with it, so I can go home."

"Have a long day, if you let me I could make it longer."

"You're disgusting" You pulled the keys out of your trouser pockets as you open the door to the backroom.

As you marked off all the brand new stock from Stark Jewellers, Jon continued to stare at you. Honestly, did he need a picture?

"You can leave now. I'm closing now so I can go home."

"I thought we were having a good time" Walking directly past jon, holding the door wide open.

"Now get out!" Reluctantly, jon left leaving you alone to close, you knew it was only a matter of time before your next interaction.

*****

"I can't wait to go. The Bahamas is the most beautiful place" Sandy beaches, crystal blue oceans, amazing cultures. I wish you cold to come with us, you'd have a great time." Sansa's excitement could light up a whole room. The Stark's worked extremely hard, so the trip would act as a well deserved break.

"Maybe, I'll be able to go one day." Wiping down the glass cabinets you try desired to go the Bahamas one day, unfortunately,y this year is not it.

"Are you doing anything for Christmas? I don't want you to be alone. You're the last person who deserves to be alone on Christmas."

"i'll be fine, beside's you'll have a great time. Enjoy your vacation you deserve it. I'm just having a quiet Christmas this year. Everyone's off doing their own thing and my sister will be around for Boxing Day."

"As long as you wont be alone"

"I won't I promise."

It's Christmas Eve, after a grueling shift all you wanted to do was get home and relax. To make matters worse, it had started snowing. With the roads slipery and traffic choatic, everything appeared to be a snail's pace.

As you were driving home, you saw familiar silhouette waling in the distance. Rolling down your window, you confirmed your suspicion. Jon Snow was indeed sulking down the street with a suitcase in tow. Sansa had informed you there plane would take off at six that evening. So why was Jon walking down the street?

You had no idea what conspired in you to do what you did next. Perhaps it was the Christmas spirit, but you pulled over. Stepping out of the car , you quickly ran cautiously to catch up to Jon.

“Jon, why are you not on the plane?” You called out, Jon immediately stopped upon hearing the unusually soft tone of your voice.

“Why do you care? Just go home! It’s Christmas Eve, be with your family”

“I don’t have anywhere to be. Get in the car, it’s cold out and the paths are beginning to get dangerous”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Call it the Christmas spirit. Now get in the car your coming home with me.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Jon just get in the car!”

*****

The drive home was slow and cantankerous. Everyone trying to get somewhere and they were impatient about it. Now with Jon in the car, you were even more anxious.

“This is not the way to my house” Jon mentioned as you turned the heating on higher. Was there no end to this drive home?

“We’re not going to your house. We’re going to mine. No-one, not even you is going to spend Christmas alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I’ll go stay with Sam or Tormund”

“Bullshit! Sam is taking little Sam and Gilly to Lapland and Tormund is gone home this Christmas. So are you gonig to meraciously get a flight on Christmas Eve”

“How do you know what they’re up to?”

“There is this wonderful thing called social media. I also attend most Stark parties and I think your friends are pretty nice. You know between the Stark’s, the Baratheon’s and my sister, they are all the family I have.”

“They treat you more like family then they do me. I must be something truly pathetic when the woman that hates me is the only one who has bothered to be nice to me.”

“Jon, I don’t hate you. I never have. So what happened at the airport?”

“At least that’s one of you. Catelyn still sees me as nothing more than the result of my Father’s mistake.

“Jon, you’re way more than that. You are creative and talented, kind to everyone else. So in this instance, Catelyn is very wrong.

“I was looking forward to go to the Bahamas, but I guess I’m stuck here now.”

“Hey! I don’t think I’m not that bad of company”

“No your not.” The silence in the car echoed loudly, the atmosphere was thick and tense unlike any emotion ever conveyed between you both. Suddenly, you found yourself questioning, why you despised him in the first place. Here you were stuck in a car driving home on Christmas Eve. How more of a Hallmark movie could you get?

Being stuck in traffic wasn’t helping. Suddenly, Jon’s arms wrapped around the back of the chair.

“Looks like we’re going stuck in this traffic for a while”

“Yeah it does” The tension between was beginning to get overwhelmed your hands resting tightly on the steering wheel.

“Fuck it!” As if the two of you were thinking the something both of you leaned over the counsel as your lips clashed with one another. Jon’s hand gripped the back of your head as you pulled on his shirt. An eruption of a car horn broke your embrace apart.

Moving your car forward, you struggled to catch your breath.

“Was that my Christmas present” Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the smile that it caused.

“You can have more when we get to mine”

“I’ve never been more glad that Catelyn let me of family plans.”

#jon snow imagines #game of thrones imagine #jon snow imagine #game of thrones imagines #jon snow oneshot #jon snow one shot #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones oneshot #Got imagines #got imagine #got one shot #Got oneshot #Ficmas2020 #Day 4 #Christmas posts

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gretavanfleetposts · 3 years ago

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Hey! Could I get a ship please? I’m a 20 year old premed student. I am very passionate about medicine and being a doctor. Right now, I see myself working as a pediatrician in a small town. But I also really love working with the elderly, so I may do family medicine so I can take care of everyone lol. I really want to live in a small, rural town with lots of outdoorsy things to do. I want to build a cottage and live the cottage core dream with my four kids and farm animals;)

I have brown hair, central heterochromia, and fair skin. I look a bit like a young Jennifer Connelly/Claire Danes in Romeo and Juliet. I love the outdoors and want to visit all of the national parks. I’m southern, so I have excellent manners. I’m really good at making conversation with older people. I also really love to read, write, and listen to music. Traveling to all of the National Parks is my main bucket list task, and I want to travel in a camper van with my husband to all these places.

My MBTI is INFJ and enneagram is 4w3. I am shy at first, but very loud and goofy around people that I trust. I don’t really care if people think I’m weird. Ive been told I have a kind soul, and I love making people feel good about themselves. I do deal with some mental health issues, but I’ve been trying to work through those and I think having anxiety/depression has made me a kinder person overall.

Although medicine is my dream, the thing I want most in life is to be happily married with a bunch of kids.

Thank you!

Hello, my love!

❤: You are so inspiring! The way you care for people and just want to help others, that really is amazing! I think it takes such a special person to devote their life to others and you clearly are a special person. I also 100% support the cottage core life; that really is the dream, isn't it. You seem so adventurous too. I can tell you're just very sweet and fun to be around. Can we be friends?

Ship: Jake

Because: Jake would be so enamored by you and your love for others. I definitely think that's something you share. And he would constantly be bragging to people about his partner who is going to be a doctor. He would be so supportive. And he'd love taking you out into nature when you need to decompress from the stress of your studies.

Scenario:

Whenever you had an upcoming break from classes, you and your boyfriend Jake would pick a national park at random and plan a trip

This break, the two of your were taking advantage of the warm weather and were going on a roadtrip to Yellowstone National Park

It one of the few spots left on your large canvas map that didn't have a red X drawn over it and a picture of you and Jake with a park sign in the background pinned next to it

You couldn't be more excited

Jake packed the car early in the morning and you gathered all the snacks for the drive

You set off, listening to a playlist the two of you had made together

Jake rolled the windows down to let the warm breeze blow through the car and through your hair

The sun was just coming up as you set out and it casted a fiery golden hue over the horizon

You sang and snacked, talked and held hands

The stress of school was left far behind you

You watched in wonder as magnificent nature passed you while you made your way to your destination

The sun glowing over the mountains was truly a sight

Turning to Jake, he caught your breath more than the view did

His hair was blowing back and his face and chest were lit with a golden light that just enhanced his features

He glowed

He was ethereal

You could hardly believe he was real. Real and yours

He caught you staring and gave you a warm smile before turning his eyes back to the road, using his right hand to rub circles into the skin of your thigh sticking out beneath your sundress

You leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek

There was nothing you loved more than these trips

I hope you liked it! Thank you for the request!

-⭐

Ships are currently closed

#anon #anon ships #ships #gvf #greta van fleet #gvf ships #gretavanfleetpostsships #greta van fleet ships

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quaranteehee · 5 years ago

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My friend gave me his cute (idk) idea offffffff....

AKAASHI KEIJI ANGST

Summary: you’re a young lawyer who is tasked to meet with a client at a restaurant. During mid-discussion, you recognise someone’s voice and spots his familiar figure out of your peripheral vision. He and his new partner settle in a table within your line of sight, which makes it difficult for you to focus.

- - -

“The contract is signed, but the chairman requests with another meeting to discuss the legal implications of-“

“Tch,” you click your tongue, dropping the file on your desk with an audible slap against the surface.

“(Y/n) are you even listening? Good lord if I find out-“

“Mizuki, you said that the contract has been consummated?”

“Yes,” your manager carefully says. “The chairman just wants to review some points- review the whole contract if you have to. Besides, you need the exposure.”

“Is that because I’m new?”

“(L/n) it’s because you’re young. And I don’t mean to offend you but based off on last year’s review, even the board has agreed that it may require more time and effort to get you used these sort of ‘abrupt’ meetings.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“(L/n), Mr. David Simmons is waiting in the damn restaurant so just get in there.”

You end the call and begrudgingly exit your car. At the foot of an old building stood a modern restaurant, the type that politicians would consider adequate enough to spend their mornings in, sipping coffee with a newspaper in hand as they read about their acts of “benevolence” towards their country.

As soon as you enter, a gust of warm air hits your face. Someone offers to take your coat, which you gratefully shrug off.

“Just on time! You must be Ms. (L/n)?”

A stout man with thinning, grey hair approaches you. He is clad in a navy coloured blazer with matching khakis and a white button up. A golden watch sits on his right hand, which hints at him being left-handed. Sitting on his pointed nose are silver framed glasses and you notice that there are lines at the corner of his eyes; he must have smiled a lot.

“Yes.” You hold out your hand for him to shake- which he gratefully takes. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Simmons.”

You soon find yourselves seated by the window. Taking your IPad out, you decide to dive right into business. “I understand that the purpose of this meeting is only to review the agreement cited in the contract?”

“Right. We have already signed the papers but it would really help us if we go over it for a while? It should take long, only two points at most,” he assures you with a small smile, “Beg your pardon but I might as well go over them during dinner. I hope that’s alright with you, Ms. (L/n)?”

The man reminded you of your late grandfather. Besides, everything has already been put in place; all you had to do was to further explain to any questions they had. “Will do.”

David Simmons, you found, was surprisingly gentle and homorous throughout your discussion. It might have to do with the fact that the man had already expressed how sorry he was for troubling you at this hour (despite your repeated reassurance that it was nothing he had to fuss over.)

“... are you sure? It’s quite expensive, Keiji.”

Keiji?

You risk a glance at the young couple entering the restaurant and sure enough, your eyes did not betray you. A hearty chuckle emits from his chest as he pulls the woman closer towards him. Then he smiles; that damn smile that got you all the time.

The server walks them to a table in the far back corner of the room. They thank him and Akaashi makes his way to his date to pull her chair out. She smiles at the boy gratefully.

Your fingers tap irritably against the clothed table.

“Ms (L/N)?”

“Mr. Simmons?” You return cooly.

“Is something wrong?”

Whatever you do, you DO NOT let your personal life interfere with your jobs. Absolutely. Not. You have learnt this the hard way but seeing him again, watching him give away his love- the same love you have received- to somebody that isn’t you? A familiar ache settles in your chest as you resort to toying with your gold necklace.

“Mr Simmons, have you ever been in love?”

The chairman is taken back by your question. Following your gaze, his eyes rest on a blue haired boy. David Simmons looks back hard at you. “My first girlfriend’s name was Marie,” he begins.

Shifting your attention towards the elderly gentleman in front of you, you urge him to tell you more.

“We met in high school: I was in third year and she was in her first. Now, I played American football- with the gear and all that Jazz. Marie was a cheerleader. I remember when I got to know her name, which was by accident by the way because I tossed the ball at her thinking that she was my teammate!”

You laugh and reminisce about the time you accidentally fell on the second year boy: you were a year his junior. Rushing down the flight of stairs, you missed a step in your haste and fell onto someone. In the end, he helps you gather your papers which have been sent flying in the air.

“I’m so sorry..?”

“Akaashi. I’m Akaashi Keiji,” he says with an almost imperceptible smile.

“Now, Marie was a woman of wits. She was smart! Making it to all honour classes and all.. honestly? If you were to ask me, I wouldn’t know why she would love me. But she did.”

“I.. I love you.”

You pause, searching his eyes for any indication of hesitancy- any sign that may prove his words otherwise. “Akaashi..?”

“I know: it doesn’t make sense to me either. But (y/n) I love you. I love you to the stars and back. I- I love you.”

You were crying but a smile graced your lips.

“Say something.. please,” he begs.

David looks out the window, the soft evening rain blurring the view of the streets and city lights. You follow his suit. “I loved her. To the moon and back.”

The pink sky only added to the flush on his cheeks. The streets were desolate as Sakura flowers were littered against the pavement. Behind him, the afternoon sun cast shadows into his face yet his eyes- his eyes which displayed the colour of a sea before the storm seemed to experience a hurricane at that moment.

In your own way, an ocean spilled from your (e/c) orbs transitioning into a waterfall down your cheeks. “Akaashi... I love you too.”

“How old are you, Ms (L/N)?”

“21, Sir.”

“And that boy?”

You knew that Mr. Simmons was bound to , as soon as you realised that it would be near impossible to tame your emotions in your current state.

“Twenty-two.”

“Ahh.. yes. It was around that time-“

“What happened?” You eagerly inquire.

He smiles at you softly, just as a father would do to his daughter. “We were both aware that loving each other wouldn’t be a walk in the park. We would have endured the storms thrown at us, but sometimes... sometimes holding on is harder than letting go.”

“We can do it,” you shuffle desperately towards him and cup his face in your hands, “Keiji, listen, we can call everyday if we have to. Baby, we can make it-“

“Stop-“

“-I’ll come visit you, I promise. One every month maybe?”

“(Y/n)-“

“We can move together once I finish this last year. You don’t have to worry about-“

“(Y/N) LISTEN TO ME!” He raises his voice and slaps your hands away from his face.

You break down; every bone in your body is seared in pain as your blood burns in your veins. “Keiji..” you croak.

Watching you like this hurts him more than it hurts you. He knew you would move in with him without a doubt if he had asked you. He would marry you, and again, you would say yes. Once upon a time, Akaashi would have been completely at peace with the thought of a family of his own- a family you had created with him in a tiny village at the country.

But darling, darling you were destined for something great. You were blessed with a brain to think of unfathomable universes; to think up the solutions to solve the most gruelling maladies; and so much more. Akaashi Keiji knew this- he was more aware of this fact more than anyone. Maybe, even more than yourself.

“No, (y/n). We can’t..”

You watch him, “Keiji.. keiji,” you utter out his name repeatedly in hopes that it would make him see some sense, “ I love you.”

He doesn’t hide his face now that it’s stricken with fresh tears. He wants desperately to rush over and hold you in his arms. Above all, Akaashi wants desperately to say it back. Instead, he turns on his heel and leaves.

You stare at the traffic light as the colour changes from red to green, followed by engines revving in response. “D-do you still-“

“I always will.”

A tear escapes your eye. “How can you say that?”

“Because there’s a part of me that just.. does.” He watches for a reaction and continues, “I think, for me, it’s because I chose to love her. It wasn’t based on pure emotion. Time heals, doesn’t it? Yet it also destroys. Time, therefore, does not limit itself to emotion. What makes love greater than time itself is the fact that it is a choice- a choice to care for the other person for richer and poorer, and till death do you part. It’s a choice that you make without any regards for your own happiness, but theirs.”

You stay silent. You didn’t know what to say. Akaashi claimed that he didn’t know how or why in the world he had fallen... but he chose to act on his feelings, and he chose you.

David’s voice is softer, barely a whisper: “but I don’t regret it...”

Memories that you had desperately tried to push at the back of your mind resurface:

When he held your hand during the school fair as you walked between the booths.

When he took you to an aimless walk at three in the morning as you held each other and danced to the rhythm of the sky changing its hues from a twilight purple to the gentle orange of dusk.

You remember when you were smiling so much in the photo booth as the camera took your pictures together; how in the end, he unexpectedly pulled you into a kiss.

“... I don’t regret her one bit,” he finishes.

All this time you watched Akaashi from across the room eye his new girl with eyes full of wonder. He takes her hand in his and they get up from their table, heading out the door before disappearing into the cold, Tokyo evening.

“Ms. (L/n).. a word of advise from an old man: don’t regret him because you loved him.”

“Mr. Simmons, I don’t have any regrets...

Because I still love him.”

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #fukorodani #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi keiji #anime / manga #akaashi angst #angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!

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rose-demica · 4 years ago

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A guest shows up at your house drunk. (Prompt)

Fandom: Ouran High Host Club

Series: Unnamed WIP,

Pairings: Kyoya Ootori / Violetta Tatsuya (OFC)

Warnings: Underage Drinking

Tags: @evilskank-inthemegacoven

This is a little old, and doesn’t fit in with the current direction the story is heading, but it was fun to write.

Violetta Tatsuya didn't know what she was expecting from a lazy night in, she had completed all the paperwork the White Lily League had pressed upon her earlier. She had just settled down in front of the huge flat screen television in her private drawing room when a butler barged in. Her requested glass of Red wine sloshed over the sides of the silver tray it had been delicately placed atop a few moments earlier. "A guest, my lady, for you." He announced, Violetta reached for the nearest item of clothing, shrugging it around her shoulders, covering up the low cut tank top she would wear to sleep in later that night. She nodded at the butler as her arms slipped through the sleeves, wrapping around her waist to hold the shirt closed until she found the time to make herself more presentable. "Lady Tatsuya." A man called, stumbling through the door, it took a moment for Violetta to recognize the normally perfectly composed male. "Kyoya?" The light reflected off of his glasses as bloodshot and glazed over eyes attempted to focus on her.

"Is that my shirt?" He blurted out, hand covering his mouth as he realised he had spoken his thoughts. "Leave us." Violetta ordered the butler, who fled from the room, eager to tell the others of whom had drunkenly showed up at her door. "Kyoya." She moved with years of trained grace to his side, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other tugged his arm over her shoulders, holding it there as she navigated him towards the couch. "Excuse me, my lady, shall I send for a car to take Master Ootori home?" A much more competent butler knocked on the door, calling out softly. Violetta glanced at the man she was supporting, before making up her mind. "No, Master Ootori can remain here. Have a guest room prepared, make sure painkillers and water are readily available, and be sure that competent staff are on hand when he awakes." "Of course my lady, can I get you anything now?" Violetta forced Kyoya down onto the couch, using one hand on his chest to hold him still when he tried to get up once more. "Just water." She replied, eyes flicking back down to the man when she felt a gentle tug on her hair. "Such a beautiful colour." He murmured to himself, letting the strands of dark red weave through his fingers playfully. "Kyoya." Violetta whispered, his eyes flicked to her, then to the hand holding him down. "My shirt." A smile tugged at his lips, his fingers tracing the skin just below the folds of the sleeves. Violetta rolled her eyes, of course it was his shirt, only he was so pedantic about the sleeves being folded, folded not rolled, a certain way. "How do you have my shirt?" Kyoya voiced her thoughts, she definitely hadn't taken it from his room, nor the Ouran host halls. "I am unsure." She responded, realising he was waiting for her to answer his musing. "Perhaps it was Sylvia and Haruhi, they did take the club's cosplay clothes to that commoner's washing house." Kyoya sighed, letting his hand fall to rest on top of hers. "You're beautiful." The sincerity in his voice astounded her, it could not have been true, she was in her worst night time wear, makeup removed and hair no doubt a mess from all the times she ran her fingers through it while calculating budgets. A nervous habit her father had not managed to break. Heavy breathing cut off Violetta's chance to reply, Kyoya falling asleep. Slowly she retracted her hand from under his, removing his glasses and placing them on the nearest solid surface. A hand ran through his raven locks, easily tussling out the knots. "Sweet dreams Master Ootori." she whispered, kissing his forehead before breezing from the room. ~~~ Kyoya awoke with a groan, limbs strangled by sheets and blankets too silky and far too soft to be his own. His back sunk into the mattress, lacking the firmness he was so used to. Slowly he opened his eyes, blurry images only half coming into view, there was a distinct lack of quality lighting in the room. Only a small lamp seemed to illuminate a small corner of the huge room; more specifically it lit up a table that held two small pills, a large jug of water, and his glasses. Pushing aside the sweltering blankets, Kyoya forced himself into an upright position, hand holding his head as it decided to make its presence known. An army of drum playing monkeys, hurling and screeching while being horribly off key assaulted his senses. "Master Ootori? We had not expected you awake so soon. I apologise for our mistake. Here." A silver tray made its way into his watery view, he took his glasses first, putting them on so he could make out the two small white capsules before him. "For your hangover sir. I shall have a meal brought up immediately. Is there anything in particular you wish for?" Kyoya shook his head slightly, taking the full glass, and downing the pills with ease. The soft shutting of the door sounded like a clap of thunder in his head. With a groan he covered his ears, laying back down. Kyoya could remember very little of the night before. He remembered suits, ball gowns, and a large hall filled to the brim with people, dancing and mingling. He remembered being proud, watching it all go off without a hitch. So it must have been a host party. The twins? They were always up to no good, they must have spiked his drink, Had they gotten to anyone else? What was supposed to be a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Light flooding into the room as the door opened, hitting his eyes as though someone was shining a spotlight directly into them. He squeezed them tightly shut, listening for the sound of the door shutting before he would dare attempt to open them once more. "His father searches for him, my lady, what shall I say?" A soft spoken female questioned, "Call Tamaki Suoh, he will cover for his friend. No one is to know of Ootori's whereabouts nor the state in which he arrived at my door, understood?" He recognized the female voice that spoke the second time. Lady Violetta of the Tatsuya family? How had he ended up at her place? This had to be her family's estate, right? "Help! Kyoya." Tamaki raced towards him, Sylvia hot on his heels, the younger woman clearly furious with the club president. Kyoya remembered the sight, and accepting a drink from Hikaru. Easily smoothing out whatever it was his best friend had managed to do to anger the newest transfer. He had been busy overseeing the proceeding ball and ensuring all the hosts - and hostess played their respective parts, keeping the guests happy and coming back. Never realising the drink he had never emptied, no matter how much he drank from it. Kaoru and Hikaru were especially nice, odd, how did he not notice this sooner? The twins were really that nice unless they had something planned. How many others had they tricked into consuming alcohol? It could ruin the club's pristine image. The bed shifted, dipping as a weight settled itself on his left hand side. A gentle hand rested on the side of his face, sweeping a few strands of hair back into place. Lips as soft and smooth as silk lingered on his forehead, long hair brushed over his neck and chest, tickling him ever so slightly as Lady Violetta pulled away. What had he said to her in his drunken state? What words of truth had she pulled from his unwitting lips. "Relax Kyoya, I did nothing to take advantage of you. You were asleep before I got the chance. Try to get some more rest, you can hide out here until you feel better, or ready to face the world again." The hand pulled away from the side of his face, his skin tingling where it had been resting. "Excuse me, my lady. Breakfast is ready, where would you like it served?" A male voice whispered, clearly cautious around Kyoya's half drunk, half hungover state. "I shall have mine in my study, Master Ootori can have his here if he so chooses. Please have the staff obey him as they would me." Kyoya was startled as the weight on his bed shifted, sinking even further down, something pressing against his left hand side. "Etoile, behave, get off the bed." Violetta scolded, trying to contain her laughter. Kyoya's eyes flew open as something licked his face, a long pink tongue startled him into squeezing his eyes shut again, hands coming up to try stop the onslaught. "Etoile!" Violetta shrieked with laughter as the dog turned its affections to her. Kyoya opened his eyes to see Violetta half heartedly fight the husky off. A smile crept over his face as he saw the younger woman with her guard down. "Settle down girl." Violetta rested a hand on the pup's nape, instantly the dog was settled, laying down against Kyoya's side. Nudging him with her head until he relented and petted her. His long fingers smoothing out the huskies grey and black fur. "I prefer cats." He grumbled, as his arm was made subject to a huge lick. Etoile didn't seem to care for his insult, her tail whacking him repeatedly in the leg. "My Lady, Master Ootori, I apologise for the interruption, but Master's Hitachiin are demanding to see you. Apparently they're certain he is here." A elderly man half knocked on the door as he spoke. "Kyoya-sempai!!" Kyoya whimpered slightly at the exceedingly loud yells of the two young men. Violetta smiled, before motioning for the twins to keep quiet. They ignored her, barrelling onto the bed to wrap themselves around a furious Kyoya. "I believe you owe Master Ootori an apology. I shall have breakfast sent up for you. Etoile, come." Both woman and dog gracefully got up and left the three men alone in the large guest room. "What-" Kyoya growled, eyes flickering between the two boys as they stumbled over one another in an attempt to explain. "We only meant for you to have one or two Kyoya-Senpai." "We just wanted you to have a little fun." "We didn't realise how much you had until-" "We're sorry Kyoya-senpai!" Kaoru cut his elder brother off, nudging him to stay silent. "Until what?" Both twins refused to meet his gaze, suddenly finding various other things around the room interesting. Kyoya knew he had no need to speak, glaring at both of them until one finally caved. "Well Kyoya-" Hikaru started to speak, Kaoru sighed, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "You see-" He spoke softly, "It's my fault really." Both boys spoke in unison, looking guiltily at one another as they began to recall the night before. "I don't know guys, this can't be smart." Haruhi cautioned the twins, watching as they tried to pick a bottle of alcohol they hoped Kyoya wouldn't be able to taste. Haruhi was supposed to be helping the torn twins to decide. "It'll be good for him Haruhi, he needs to loosen up and have fun." The boys chorused, reiterating the exact reason behind their evil-genius plan.

"If you say so." Haruhi reluctantly pointed at Kaoru, who held his bottle of vodka up victoriously. Hikaru scowled as he placed the gin back on the shelf. "Do I want to know how you were able to purchase alcohol? You aren't yet 20." Kyoya interrupted the twins flashback with a sigh. "The butler is." Hikaru announced with a smirk, "We told him it was a present for a older friend." Kaoru added, "Technically not a lie, he just failed to ask how old you were." "Anyway-" Hikaru and Kaoru both smiled at each other, a perfect opportunity to finally spike the uptight shadow King's drink. They slipped a glass into his hand as he dealt with Tamaki and Sylvia. Sharing yet another sly smirk as Kyoya drank deeply, not noticing the vodka that accompanied the punch. After that, the twins found it easier and easier to top up his glass, the alcohol getting stronger and stronger each time, the twins trying to one up each other with each refill. They didn't realise how much the older man had drunk until it was too late. Kyoya was stumbling slightly, taking advantage of the well placed tables and support pillars around the room to remain standing, His hair was dishevelled for what may have been the first time in his life. Top few dress shirt buttons undone, much to the female population's amusement, his tie was loosened around his neck, flirting with a young red haired woman.

Sylvia and Haruhi seemed to notice the impending disaster, Sylvia sweeping the Shadow King out onto the dancefloor as he made as though to kiss the student. The guests thoroughly enjoyed what they assumed was a performance. Tamaki expertly distracted the females so Haruhi and Sylvia could sneak Kyoya out and into a nearby limo.

"No one realised. We're sorry Kyoya-Senpai." Both twins chorused, ending their tale of the night before.

"Breakfast." A butler announced, three trays laden with food handed to each young boy. Kyoya smiled to himself, eyes on the young woman in the doorway. It seemed not everything had gone entirely awful after all.

#Ouran High Host Club OC #ouran high school host club #Lady Violetta Tatsuya #kyoya #kyoya ootori #Kyoya X OC #Kyoya X Violetta #Ouran fanfic

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shaorankun · 5 years ago

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Guardian Chapter 86 Translation (Guo Changcheng and Chu Shuzhi’s part)

I am currently reading Guardian (鎮魂) and when I got to Chapter 86 in the fan translation (I prefer reading in English) they did not translate this entire part. I only did a light google and didn’t find a proper translation for this so I decided to just complete it myself. I didn’t want to read the rest of the story with a chunk missing, haha. Sharing my labour here for anyone else who might be wanting to read this missing part. I didn’t know where to post this so tumblr it is...

(credit: I’m using the same title from the fan translation I’m reading)

Chapter 86: The Paper-white Face of The Young Ghost King Reflected All of His Desires, Saying Frankly, “Good-looking. I want to hold you.”

Chu Shuzhi did not think that when he returned to Dragon City the first person he would see was Guo Changcheng.

He was just released from his shackles and got back his past items that were forcibly taken by Hell. He was in a good mood. Taking advantage of the Chinese New Year break, he found a wild mass grave1 and retreated for a few days. It wasn’t until he received Wang Zheng’s message that Zhu Hong was planning on resigning that he hurriedly bought a train ticket and rushed back to Dragon City.

The crowd at the train station was bustling. Chu Shuzhi walked forward for a while, looking in all directions for a taxi, and saw Guo Changcheng’s familiar figure—the young man was carrying a huge woven bag, his body was almost curled into a ball2 and he was slowly wiggling about with difficulty.

Just by looking at Guo Changcheng you could tell he did not do much physical work. When he went to school he probably had mediocre grades in Physical Education too. Carrying a big bag, he looked like a snail carrying a heavy shell. People passing by couldn’t help but turn and look at this young man.

Chu Shuzhi was worried he recognized the wrong person at first. Glancing again, he stared at what should have be a sturdy nylon bag open up with a small gap. A lady selling corn at the roadside kindly warned, “Hey, young man, your bag is going to spill!”

Guo Changcheng turned to the voice, but probably because his things were too heavy, when he turned his body he didn’t pay attention to his feet and he stumbled into a luggage being pulled by a young lady who just happened to pass by. Guo Changcheng was flustered and before he could apologize, the young man next to the lady aggressively pushed him. “Watch it, where are you stepping?”

Guo Changcheng was already not standing steadily and once he stumbled, the ‘city wall’ behind his back rumbled and fell. The bottom of the nylon woven bag broke apart and a bunch of outrageous items noisily fell out, including pots, pans, plates and plastic bags of food and clothing. The weirdest thing was that there was also an approximately sixty centimeters in diameter and eight centimeters thick large wooden cutting board—he was basically carrying a mini Walmart.

The young man who pushed him probably just stepped from person to person to fight out a path through the crowded train station. Seeing Guo Changcheng wearing dusty old clothes, he regarded him as a migrant worker returning to the city, and was suddenly disgusted and inexplicably felt a sense of unspeakable superiority. With one hand he was pulling the lady next to him to leave and at the same time complaining, “Knowing there’d be a lot of people and still bringing so much stuff. Are you an idiot? Can you afford to pay for damaging this luggage?”

Guo Changcheng repeatedly apologized. Seeing all the items had fallen on the ground, almost looking stupid, he hurriedly crouched down to pick them up. As he saw the nylon woven bag spill from both ends, he was at a loss and helplessly grabbed his own hair, worried.

It was at that moment that a somewhat skinny hand reached over and easily took both ends of the nylon bag and made a dead knot, making it into the shape of a cloth bag, then placed the junk in the middle of it. Weighing downwards, it looked the same as holding a SpongeBob. With one hand he was able to wrap up the pieces of heavy items.

Guo Changcheng: “Chu Ge3!”

If he had a tail, his wagging could’ve been used as an electric fan. He suddenly forgot that the one standing in front of him was The Zombie Corpse King—in Guo Changcheng’s view, Chu Shuzhi was practically a saviour who fell from the sky.

Chu Shuzhi ignored him. While holding the large nylon bag with one hand, he turned towards the young man who hadn’t gone too far, and with not a good look on his face he said, “The one in front, I advise you roll back here and apologize.”

Usually when Chu Shuzhi was normal it was fine, but when his face sunk he was particularly scary, almost naturally wearing a hint of the vicious gloom of a fugitive. The young man who was just fierce looked at him, appearing fierce but was weak inside, and said, “What else do you want?”

Just as Chu Shuzhi was about to walk towards him, Guo Changcheng held onto him. “Chu Ge, Chu Ge let’s go. It was I who didn’t see just now. I’m sorry.”

Uneasy, he raised his eyes to the other and smiled, holding onto Chu Shuzhi’s cold hand. “My fault, my fault.”

The two in front cussed as they left, completely unaware that they just escaped a crisis.

Chu Shuzhi turned around and looked at Guo Changcheng and thought that not only was he so much of a saint that he was an idiot4, he was pretty much messed up in the brain. To be at this stage of no temper and no courage, even if one didn’t say he didn’t seem like a young and vigorous man, he simply didn’t even seem like a person.

Chu Shuzhi irritably broke away from his hand and pointed at the bag of groceries in his own hand. “Does your family have nothing to eat, that they’re making you spend the New Year selling groceries?”

“No, I’m helping someone deliver this. I didn’t expect the bag to suddenly break.” Guo Changcheng eagerly followed him but also felt rather embarrassed. “I, I, let me carry it, it’s not much further.”

Chu Shuzhi impatiently avoided his hand and frowned. “Lead the way.”

Guo Changcheng immediately was too scared to utter a sound and walked ahead in small steps, leading the way.

Passing by the street in front of the station, they made multiple turns and entered a small alley. They arrived at a shadowed zone of the bustling city. Inside the alley was a row of dilapidated single-story houses. Walking deep inside, a female student with a ponytail was standing at a door, sweeping the floor with a broom. When she saw Guo Changcheng she very happily greeted him, exposing the college break volunteer sign around her neck.

Guo Changcheng felt a little embarrassed when seeing the girl and unnaturally lowered his head. Sounding like a mosquito, he buzzed, “Hello.”

The young lady was not inattentive and seeing Chu Shuzhi holding a big bag, she immediately dropped the broom and helped him open the door. As she walked she asked Guo Changcheng, “Have you registered them? Did you print it out? We have to express gratitude to each person on the internet.”

Guo Changcheng, this boy, he was very slow when he did things and he wasn’t clever. At the unit the always-rushing-them-Zhao would get angry and directly scold him. But in the end when he finished, it was always done very earnestly and meticulously. The reports written, no matter how long or how important or how much paper was wasted, never had a single typo. Slowly, even their nitpicky leader couldn’t say anything.

Guo Changcheng promptly nodded and took out a pile of printed paper from his bag. In total there were seven to eight pages. On them were detailed records of who donated, what was donated, the donor’s contact address, phone number, internet name, e-mail and other information. The value of the donated items varied from Chinese Yuan5 to a Chinese cabbage. It was simply odd and by no means an isolated case.

It turns out this was led by a few of Dragon City’s universities. They were taking advantage of the winter break and came together with some social service groups to organize and create this volunteer operation called “For the Old, For the Young6”. On Guo Changcheng’s side, they specialized in targeting the elderly at the lowest rung of society who, due to various reasons, lost their ability to make a livelihood. In small groups, each were responsible for the long-term care for a set of elderlies.

Because Guo Changcheng was unable to communicate with people, he was unable to take the responsibility of relieving the boredom of the elderly so he ended up with the job of collecting donations from society. Fortunately, the volunteer team had more girls so he was able to help greatly with some physical tasks, using this break to act as a porter.

Chu Shuzhi helped them place the objects down. As it was along the way, he started Guo Changcheng’s car and brought him along to No. 4 Bright Avenue. Guo Changcheng’s palms were damaged by the rubbing of the nylon bag; he sat at the passenger seat quietly and used a wet towel to wipe it.

Since it was rare for Chu Shuzhi to be in the mood to talk, he said a few words to him. “You’re still caring about anyone, are you trying to deliver all living creatures from difficulty?”

Guo Changcheng widened a pair of ignorant eyes and looked at him with astonishment.

Chu Shuzhi changed the question. “Doing this kind of stuff, does your family know?”

Guo Changcheng silently shook his head.

Chu Shuzhi incomprehensively laughed. Then he said, “Then on New Year’s Day did you burn some incense? The way you are, your wishes would easily come true.”

Guo Changcheng shook his head again. He was extremely satisfied with his current life. Apart from his family and friends being safe and healthy, there was nothing else he’d ask for—right now his family and friends seemed safe and healthy so he thought it was better to not trouble Buddha.

Chu Shuzhi took advantage of the traffic light and tilted his head to glance at him. Guo Changcheng was not tall, not strong and also not handsome. His facial features could not be said to be good looking. He was usually very low-key and didn’t own even a single brand name piece of whatever common youngsters thought was popular. Basically you would be unable to find his type in a crowd of people. Because there was always a lack of confidence, there was absolutely never any class.

However, when he sat down and quietly didn’t say anything, his calm expression revealed something unspeakable, natural Zen.

Although Guo Changcheng was a mortal, wine and meat passing his intestines every day, he didn’t understand what practicing spiritual development was, he didn’t even understand all the words in scriptures, and all of the Buddhist Arhats in the entire world were only known through the popular TV show Journey to the West where he only recognized two of them: one Guanyin, one Tathagata. Due to a problem with the actors, even now there was doubt towards the gender.

But Chu Shuzhi could sense that he was acting without regard for others and was peacefully and quietly building something.

It was neither the well-being of this life nor the virtue of the next life.

With Chu Shuzhi’s eyesight and cultivation, he only hazily had a feeling. As for what it was specifically, he couldn’t clearly tell.

Despite Chu Shuzhi not understanding what Guo Changcheng was thinking when doing these things, it didn’t stop the sudden uncomfortable feeling in his heart. There seemed to be a bit of resentment and dissatisfaction.

Even without mentioning anything else, with this child being covered from head to toe in three chi7 thick of virtue, shouldn’t he be living a peaceful and happy life? Why was it that he was born with an unlucky fate? Although everyone knew The Book of Life and Death regarded merits and demerits as very much nonsense, yet didn’t Hell use it rather brazenly?

He stopped speaking. His fanboy Guo Changcheng also didn’t have the courage to actively bring up any topics. The two of them remained silent all the way to No. 4 Bright Avenue. The curtain of night had already descended and all human and ghosts were present.

Once Chu Shuzhi entered the Criminal Investigations division, what came into view first was a group of demon and ghosts with a pair of blank eyes, as if they were collectively hit by a lightning strike.

Before he could even ask what was going on, he saw Wang Zheng turn her head over, trembling as she asked, “Chu Ge, did you know of the matter that Teacher Shen… Shen Wei, was really the Ghost Slayer?”

Chu Shuzhi froze for a bit. After a while, he calmly said, “Oh, that moron Zhao Yunlan, what is he doing that he didn’t come? Where is he? Ran away after messing things up?”

Da Qing was on the side and meowed, “He plunged into Wang Chuan waters.”

Chu Shuzhi: “……Love problems? Suicide?”

Da Qing and Zhu Hong had gotten over the initial shock and already calmed down.

Zhu Hong knew that Zhao Yunlan had on him the Water Dragon Pearl and any place that had water would not be able to harm him. She had just placed the Water Dragon Pearl around Zhao Yunlan’s neck and it was already being used. Zhu Hong felt that if she was a little more suspicious, it would feel like her Snake Uncle Four already knew of something beforehand.

Zhu Hong said, “My guess is that he’s looking for the Ghost Slayer.”

Chu Shuzhi took a quick look and saw that other than Lin Jing, who was still out in the field and already said he’d be taking the midnight train, the No. 4 Bright Avenue members were already all present. With both hands in his pocket, he leaned back against the office door. “I think, let’s have everyone talk about what they separately know. It’s been a mess recently. Let’s focus on the information and figure out what’s really happening. What to do—”

Speaking until here, Chu Shuzhi’s voice suddenly paused, his complexion suddenly didn’t look too good. This made everyone very nervous: “What did Chu Ge think of?”

“Wait, Shen Wei is the Ghost Slayer?” Chu Shuzhi’s face turned green. After a while he muttered, “Fuck I’ve messed up. I’ve teased him so many times before!”

……That’s why they sometimes say that being super calm was just your reflex arc taking too long.

---

野墳坡亂葬崗 [Yě fén pō luàn zàng gǎng] - Not really sure how to translate this. My best guess is it’s a random unmaintained grave. Probably some area with lots of dead bodies like after a war or something.

His body almost bent into a period. A period in Chinese looks like a hollow circle: 。

哥 [Gē] – Brother

Here Chu Ge was thinking that Guo Changcheng ‘Holy Mothered to idiocy’, he holy mothered so much he became ill. Holy mother being The Holy Mother; The Virgin Mary or a goddess.

人民币 [Rén mín bì] – Renminbi; China’s currency. Yuan is the unit. ‘Chinese Yuan’ is used in international contexts to refer to renminbi.

The name is 老吾老、幼吾幼 [lǎo wú lǎo, yòu wú yòu] – This probably comes from the phrase “老吾老，以及人之老，幼吾幼，以及人之幼” (lǎo wú lǎo , yǐ jí rén zhī lǎo , yòu wú yòu , yǐ jí rén zhī yòu) meaning to honour the elderly as we do our own aged parents and to take care of other’s children as if our own.

尺 [chǐ] – (unit) Chinese foot. It is 1/3 of a meter.

The rest of the chapter can be found here.

#guardian #novel translation #鎮魂 #镇魂 #zhen hun #guo changcheng #chu shuzhi

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irronstarkss · 5 years ago

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GIVE ME YOUR WORD ∞ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

wc | 5.5k

warnings | death? descriptions of it :)

notes: hope y’all are down for some ana & elijah fluff :)

masterlist

Her fingers grazed the old, frail pages of an unfamiliar book – it had been a long time since she’d even had a chance to read anything, let alone a genuine book from her own lifetime. Almost four hundred years to walk this damned Earth, and she was only able to truly live through perhaps half that.

A shudder racked her body as she thought of the day one of her lives ended and another began – a heated afternoon, in weather and in romance. She stared the man she’d come to love so dearly in the eye, palm falling against his face and thumb running against the line of his sharp cheekbone. His brown eyes gazed upon her, tracing each of her features then following his fingers as they carded through her brown hair. She sighed, leaning against his hand as her eyelids fell shut, “Elijah, I’m ready.”

He watched her, jaw locked as he thought about the words that had fallen from her lips. “Are you sure? This is a curse, Ana, it is not something–”

She gave him a look, then leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips, granting him her unspoken assurance. Hesitation pooled in his dark gaze, and he clenched his jaw before letting out a breath. He would not win, they were both sure of it. Pulling his hand from her face, he bit into his wrist and held it to her mouth, encouraging her to drink. And she did, then put his healed hand against her neck. “My love, do it.”

His eyes screwed shut, then he pulled her to him, kissing her forehead, “Forgive me.”

When she woke, she was on a couch, and he in a chair beside her, fingers resting against her abdomen as he slept. Within the day, she had fed, and her fate had been sealed.

Never had Ana regretted it, never had it been a source of hatred in her mind. She adored the life she was allowed to live, especially when it was first given to her. She followed Elijah and the rest of his family wherever they went, next to him. That decision brought her here, to Louisiana, all those centuries ago. She’d been tied with the Mikaelson’s then, bound by the bond of a family.

Elijah protected her with every fibre of his being, gave her his word that she would never fall dead if he breathed. Niklaus came to see her as a little sister, happy that she made his brother so… elated to live. Rebekah loved her just the same, perhaps for her own personal reason – a friend, a sister, someone to speak with when Nik had just pushed the wrong buttons, or threw the man she loved down a stairwell (truly a personal favorite grievance of Ana’s). She’d had but a brief time to know Kol, but even in his rampages and his blood lust, he loved her. Times would pass that Elijah threatened to behead him – to test if it would grow back, he’d said – whenever he caught Kol attempting to flirt his way into Ana’s undergarments.

She was there to help raise Marcellus, to give him a love she knew Klaus found hard to give at times. She was there whenever things went awry, whenever Klaus became angry and threatened to dagger his family members if they didn’t agree. She was there to witness the many ups and downs of the Mikaelson’s when they first came to this town, and she was there to watch them rise it from the ground into an empire.

Then she wasn’t.

Swallowing thickly, she closed the book with a thick thud. Throwing it on the bedside table, she scrubbed her hands across her face, screwing her eyes shut and not wanting her mind to wander. Some things hurt, physically, mentally, emotionally, to remember. When she was no longer a Mikaelson, when she was nothing but a ghost to them, to New Orleans, that qualified. She was dead; Anastacia Ward died two hundred years ago, a long ways away from New Orleans and a long ways away from Elijah Mikaelson.

Taking in a breath, she pushed herself up from the bed and walked in front of the mirror over the dresser. While it was true she didn’t often have the chance to look at her own reflection, and it was true that she didn’t exactly love seeing it, she would relish in any chance she gave herself. She was a woman at heart – wanting to look nice, presentable, no matter what her day’s plan was.

Pinching a hair tie in her fingertips, having pulled it from a bowl Ms. Ruth had presumably put in her room, she tied back the top half of her hair, sure to make it even. A steady breath left her chest as she took in her the rest of her disheveled appearance – tired had been an understatement.

It had been two weeks since she’d seen the brothers on the balcony, two weeks since she’d gone near the Compound, really. And, considering the Compound stood near the direct center of the French Quarter, it was rather difficult to stay away from it. She knew Niklaus had intended it that way whenever they first made a home there, seeing as it had been a governer’s home beforehand.

In her time, she’d preoccupied herself with finding each of their connections, figuring out what it was that Klaus had been planning, and figuring out how exactly she was going to waltz up to their Compound and announce that she was still alive. However, she had yet to open the file that sat just out of reach of her fingertips. She wasn’t sure what scared her to open it – the idea of her job becoming a reality, or having to see an entire family that she once called her own again, living quite fine without her.

But harboring that fear, doting on it, was not going to help her complete this, and it was not going to help her end this god awful debt. With a grunt, she slapped her hand on the file and pulled it against her body, walking over to the bed and throwing it down. Running a hand down her face, she let out a breath and sat, opening it and beginning to lay out all of the pictures that were clipped inside.

The first one was of the back of his head as he spoke to a random witch in the Quarter, the second a dark shadow of him on the phone. The third made her heart skip, a near-portrait staring back at her. His gaze was unknowingly locked with the lens of the camera, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. Something in her missed being able to see him like this, everyday, hear his voice and feel his skin on hers.

But something else in her was… it was broken. It was why she dreaded looking at these pictures – reminders of the life she once lead, reminders of the things she saw before she became who she was now. It reminded her of living as Anastacia, as someone loved by someone else. The pain that sat with those memories were going to make this more difficult the longer she was exposed to it, the longer she had to see him, Niklaus, Rebekah… Marcellus.

Marcellus.

Tearing her gaze away from the pictures, she grabbed the papers that sat in the folder, skimming through them until she found where Marcel had currently been living. It was a crapshot thinking he wouldn’t rat her out to the Mikaelson’s, but if she could play the card of “lost mother-figure” then she could probably get him on her side long enough to listen.

Reminiscing on the past was going to have to wait for another time, a different day. Turning the pictures over, she clipped them back into the folder – there were at least six of them that she hadn’t looked at yet, but it didn’t matter. Closing the file, she slid it to the end of her bed and stood, typing in the address she’d seen on the papers to her phone.

Standing, Ana slipped on a pair of shoes and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she stepped into the main room, she saw Ruth as she usually was – sitting in her chair in front of the television, knitting away at something. Placing a kiss on the crown of her head, she told her she would be back later, then left. Apart of her felt bad for leaving the elderly woman alone so often, but she figured Ruth had been used to it, and even the slightest bit of assurance that she would come back was enough for her.

∞

Her phone buzzed in her hand when she finally reached where she was going, having walked through the French Quarter to get there. It was risky, not finding a car to hide in, walking out in the sunlight with a chance to be seen by the man she was hunting; he was around often, she’d heard, constantly bustling about and talking to his colleagues.

Marcellus’s address had been across the river, a bit a ways away from the Compound, but she didn’t mind. She was honestly excited to see his face again, or at least to see what he’d grown into in this past century. The explanation would prove difficult – “Hey Marcellus! Long time no see! Turns out I’m not dead! Hope you’ve been great!” As sweet and to the point it was, the idea of that being the first thing she said to him was rather… abhorrent.

She stepped up to the doorway, taking in a breath and licking her lips. Closing her eyes, she steadied her breathing and gave a nod to herself. Walking forward, she quietly made her way up the stairs and just outside the second doorway. She could hear the voices when she first entered, but they were clearer now, easier to hear.

“You want to just, like, get drunk and never wake up?” The first voice belonged to someone young, she could tell that much. But whoever he was, the way their words tapered short and exasperatedly told her he was tired.

“Hate to break it to ya, Josh, but–” The second voice was familiar, friendly in her ears. It lacked the fatigue of the first.

“Yeah, that’s not how this whole vamp thing works, I know,” the man, Josh, chuckled lightly, almost satirically.

There was a silence after he finished, then the sounds of steps that faded off further into the building. She wondered which of them had left, and perhaps if either of them had been Marcellus himself. There was hesitation in her want to peer around the corner and see if Marcellus stood in the room, her hand placing itself softly on the wall as she thought it over.

“I know you’re standin’ there,” the familiar voice rang, startling her, “you can either come out or I can come pull you out myself?” His offer was not something with a choice, simply a statement posed as a question.

She scoffed – something was so familiar before but she couldn’t place it. Now? She was more than sure. Taking in a breath, she wet her lips before speaking, “I’m afraid coming out from behind this corner might interrupt your delightful drink, Marcellus.”

He was quiet first, then the sound of his glass setting on the desk and him standing came to her ears. “Only a couple people call me that, miss,” there was a challenging tone in his words, “and I’m afraid they’re all across the river. So,” his voice got closer, “mind steppin’ out from that corner?”

She sighed, kept her head down, then pushed off the wall, stepping into the doorway for Marcellus to see. Her hands tucked themselves in her pockets and her lips pursed. She heard him take in a breath, felt his eyes raking her over and trying to decipher what it was about her that was so familiar.

Then she looked up, a smile taking over her features. He stood before her, big, commanding, confident. Just what she’d wanted him to be when he was younger. A breath left her chest, “Marcellus.”

He took a step toward her, then a smile lit up, big and welcoming, “Ana!” The two of them met, him pulling her to his chest as he took in everything standing in front of him. She was sure it was a rush – the two of them had never had a negative relationship, never had a bad bump in the road. She loved the boy as her own once upon a time, and perhaps she still did. But, considering the fact that he’d grown, and he was near twice her size, she figured he could protect her better than she him.

She pulled away and he directed her to his main sitting area, pouring her a drink and offering yet another winning smile, “How are you? Where’ve you been–” He stopped himself, taking a sip from his drink and laughing, “It’s good to see you, Ana.”

“You too, Marcellus,” she offered, her bright eyes becoming downcast as she felt the excitement in her body becoming concrete that sat heavy in her stomach, “but– I’m sorry, but I didn’t come here for a warm I’m alive! greeting.”

His head tilted, and he sat the glass in his hand on the table behind him, leaning forward in his seat, “Then what brings you here– We thought you were dead.”

She watched the elation fade from his eyes, replaced with hurt, confusion. “I know,” she whispered, swirling the drink in her hand, “I know you did. And there’s an explanation for that, there’s an explanation for all of this–” a frustrated huff interrupted her words and she screwed her eyes shut. She couldn’t get nervous. She was going to have to explain everything to him; Marcellus would never take face value answers as real ones. She wet her lips, “I am here because I have a job to do. And that job– that job is something I don’t want to do.”

“What is it, Ana? Start from the beginning,” his voice was soft, comforting. He was curious, but he was patient.

She sighed – she told herself unpacking this all would be her downfall, told herself that reminiscing wasn’t going to be a good idea today. Saving it for a different day wasn’t going to apply here. So, she looked up at the dark-skinned man and she nodded, eyes closing and a thoughtful frown forming replacing the hard line that had attached itself to her lips.

∞

“Elijah! You must stop!” A giggle erupted from her chest as she ran from the man, the two of them chasing each other about the Mikaelson mansion. A rule had been made whenever she began running, and they honored it – no vampire speed allowed. As she rounded the corner, she felt his fingers attempting to attack her waist, trying to grab her and tickle her into submission. She ran faster, running through the hall and into the nearest bedroom where she would surely be able to seek refuge.

Another laugh left her whenever she heard Elijah groan that she’d run into a room, “Not fair, Ana!” Marcellus’s body jumped whenever he saw her standing behind him, having been so trapped in the book he was reading to realize that she’d run in.

“Protect me, Marcellus!” She said into his ear, the ten year old boy standing from his chair and lighting up in a smile whenever Elijah’s hand hit the doorway, followed by his shoulder. “You can’t get me! I’ve got a shield!”

“Shall we test that theory?” Elijah challenged, his eyebrow raising in a dare.

Marcellus giggled, reaching around and placing a hand on Anastacia’s hip. He twisted their bodies with Elijah’s movements around them, holding a hand out and playing along with the two of them. Elijah lunged forward, Marcellus jumped back, and Ana tripped, a roar of laughter leaving her as she fell against the young boy’s bed. Elijah took his chance, running forward and grabbing her by the hips, throwing her over his shoulder. Marcellus ran into Elijah’s hips, fists smacking a mile a minute as he begged for the Original to let her down, a smile on his face the whole time.

“Marcellus! You must go on without me!” She cried out from behind the vampire, kicking her legs and feigning death.

Marcellus broke into a fit of laughter, and Elijah thanked him for putting up a fair fight, then took the woman and himself out of the boy’s room. Elijah raced them to his room, where he put her down on the bed and hovered over her, brown eyes alight with love, adoration. The smile that adorned his face was something harbored only for her, soft and promising and affectionate. Her hands cupped his face, pulling him down to her level and capturing his lips in hers.

The Original melted into Ana, a breath of relief leaving him as he sunk further into the body beneath him. Moments alone for them were rare, especially with the busier the Mikaelson’s got, so these were relished. Every bit of him bled into her heightened senses, and she did not hate it at all – she felt the divots of his fingertips as they ran up her arm, the fabric of his petty coat that rested against her stomach, the warmth of his lips against her own.

As his fingers dared to venture further, pressing into the skin of her collarbone and threatening to pinch the dress she wore off her shoulders, a knock came at his door. A man cleared his throat and Elijah stopped his assault on her lips, pulling himself off the bed and looking toward the man. It had been a servant, bearing a letter on a platter, “For Ms. Anastacia.”

Ana pushed herself off the bed, fingers lightly grazing the back of Elijah’s arm as she walked forward, thanking the servant and taking the letter. Popping off the wax seal, she pulled the letter from the envelope, eyes dancing across the paper as she eagerly read the writing.

“What is it, my dear?” Elijah stepped forward, hands falling on her hips as he looked down at the paper, then up at Ana.

“My brother,” she smiled, looking up at him with bright hazel eyes, “Joel has written me. Told me of his whereabouts, says he would like to see me again.” The redness that appeared in the swell of her cheeks painted the picture of just how happy she was to receive news from the young boy.

Ana’s parents had passed years ago, just after Joel was born, and for most of her life, she took care of her younger brother. But when he was finally old enough to leave, explore, find himself amongst the world, he took the chance. He knew of Elijah and the Mikaelson’s – shared their curse, even – and he knew of the tales that followed Niklaus himself. Joel swore that as long as Ana was safe, he would stay to himself, he would not intervene.

But this – a visit to his home in Virginia, this was something she hadn’t expected. He offered to her, only her, for a chance that Ana meet his wife, experience the life he lead as a working man. Ana was quick to jump on the opportunity, promising Elijah that she would be safe, and promising Niklaus that she would not need protectors. She could handle herself well enough – it had been the better part of a hundred years since her turning.

“I will be back soon enough, my love,” she whispered to him, calves pressed against the foot of their bed. A gentle kiss was placed on her forehead, her eyelids fluttering shut. “I promise to write, I promise to keep you updated. If I so happen to find a witch who can do a convenient spell or two, then I will do my best.”

Elijah smiled, the sincerity reflecting in the wrinkles around his eyes, “Of course. I would expect no less. Please,” he murmured, forehead falling against hers, licking his lips and softly grasping the back of her neck, “return to me, Anastacia. I could not bear to lose you.”

She pressed her lips against his, fingertips just barely touching his cheek, “I give you my word, Elijah.”

∞

Ana looked at Marcellus with a teary gaze, “I broke my word, Marcellus.”

He was still giving her that sorrowful look, like he pitied her. His dark eyes were foggy with remorse, mouth downturned and hands knitted together. “I’m sorry, Ana.”

She sniffed, “That’s not it,” she shook her head, “there’s more to the story. I just didn’t realize how lovely the day had been. Seeing you, being with my Elijah and looking out at New Orleans with a deepset love.” A scoff, then she took another, long swig from her drink, “But like I said– there’s more to it.”

∞

The carriage shook underneath her as they traveled as fast as possible, the coachmen having assured her they would be there within the next day or so. She busied herself with scribbling about in her notebook, small sketches lining the pages in which she wrote of her times away from home, away from the people she’d come to call family. She’d never thought it would get this far, especially whenever she met the man named Elijah in France, all those years ago. He was sweet, endearing, charming.

He’d convinced her and her brother to run with them, told her that he would give her everything. They’d known each other for a year before they had to run, and in that year, Anastacia had fallen harder than she could’ve ever fathomed for the dark-eyed vampire. He treated her as royalty, chose to be with her whenever he had free time away from his family, worshipped her in every way possible.

When Ana had finally convinced Elijah to turn her, she’d done it without telling Joel – he would not have approved, and he was much too young to decide her fate. Then, after a couple years, she gave him the option, gave him the horrible truths of the curse, and the positives that came with it.

“If it means I never leave you alone in this world, sister, then so be it,” Joel’s confident smile had won her over, and she gave him what was promised. Those few decisions brought her here, traveling to a small town in Virginia by the name of Mystic Falls. She knew the history it held for the Mikaelson’s, but assured them upon her departure that if Joel had found it safe, then it would be so when she arrived.

Her thumbs ran over the dried ink on the page as she thought of what to say next, but realized nothing would suffice in explanation of how she felt to be going to her brother. Her eyes tore away from the paper, looking over the passing forest and taking in each and every green, yellow, brown, red, colored hue they could. She loved to see the world, familiar or not, loved to see what nature Herself held in her palms.

A crease formed in her brows when she noticed things began to slow done, not remembering hearing the coachman tell her anything of arriving at a stopping destination for the night. Whenever things came to an abrupt halt, she placed her journal on the seat beside her and peeked out the door, gaze landing upon a mangled corpse where the coachman should’ve been. Her chest flared with fear, and she looked around, eyes wide and senses alert.

A crack of wood, a grunt, then silence. Her attention darted to the forest’s edge, where a shadow loomed just in between the shadow and the light. By his side hung a sharp object – something that resembled a stake – and his shoulders were tight, high up by his ears. Swallowing, she gripped the cabin door a little tighter and mustered up whatever courage she could find in herself.

“Step forward,” she said to him, not fretting over whether he’d heard her. She’d seen that kind of damage before, done by none other than Kol Mikaelson. It was the damage done by blood-lust, by inability to restrain, by a vampire in its truest form.

He laughed, deep and resonating, then did as told, the sun casting a harsh shadow on his rigid features. Wrinkles coated his face, reflected his age; brown hair cased his face in messy curls, as if he had no regard for it. The clothes he wore screamed not entirely modern, and the smile he wore with them nearly shook her to her core.

She knew who this man was. Elijah had told her enough, had let her see in his mind enough.

Mikael.

As quickly as she’d seen him, he was gone, not a sound to be heard as she looked around in a frantic hope of finding him. Perhaps she’d run, or fight – neither would be a liable option. This was no standard hunter, this was no regular vampire. This was Mikael, the destroyer, the one who chased his own children in hopes of offing them for a curse he had a hand in placing upon them. And Anastacia had just been unlucky enough to collide paths with him.

Trying to dart back into the cabin of the carriage, her hand was grasped and her arm nearly pulled from its socket as she was flung to the ground. A heavy thud echoed from where she landed, followed by a low groan vibrating in her throat. Heaving herself up on her palms, she watched as he stepped closer, waiting until he was just close enough to feel as though it’d be easy to grab her before speeding to a different portion of the road.

He whipped around, followed her movements with a keen eye until he’d back her into a corner she couldn’t escape. The stake that dangled in his fingers came up and rested weightily against her heart, daring to pierce the skin. Mikael breathed down her neck, sniffing the blood that coursed through her veins and listening to her erratic heartbeat. A sick smile spread across his aged features, followed by a light chuckle, “You must know who I am, little girl.”

Ana stayed silent, fingers shaking, bottom lip quivering, but her gaze staying steady.

“You wreak of someone I know,” he continued, pressing the tip further against her skin. It began to pinch, not enough to break through, but enough to cause an otherwise ignorable discomfort. “In fact, I believe that scent belongs to...,” he took a deep sniff of her collarbone, “yes. You smell of my son, Elijah. Poor boy. I do hope you did not mean much to him.”

A gasp left her as he pushed the stake into her ribs, holding it just out of reach of her heart and holding her chin. Her mouth fell open, eyes daring to roll back in pain.

“Where are they?” He asked, jerking her head with his words.

She said nothing. She was going to die knowing they had the upper hand for once in this near-millennia long chase.

“Tell me, wench,” he pressed, digging the stake deeper into her chest. She cried out, tears blurring her vision. Thoughts of Elijah passed through her mind, then of Niklaus and Rebekah, Kol and Marcellus, then Joel. Her life that she’d lead for far longer than nature had intended. Still, she said nothing, and Mikael growled in anger, taking the stake out and plunging it so deep in her chest it stuck to the tree he’d been holding her against.

∞

“He killed you?” Marcellus asked, brows furrowed and anger almost dripping from his words.

“Yes,” Ana nodded, blinking back the echoes of pain that danced at the edges of her mind. “I died in Tennessee. I wasn’t far from my brother, and had I not been in the wrong place at the wrong time, perhaps who I am now wouldn’t exist.” She shrugged, downing the last of her drink and pushing the glass onto the table beside the chair. “Next thing I remember, I was floating out of my body, looking on at the world as it kept on turning without any idea that I was dead.”

Marcellus saddened almost immediately at hearing that, at knowing that she died and he couldn’t have stopped it. “Ana, if I’d have known–”

“You were young then, Marcellus,” she shook her head, “there was nothing you could have done.” Her eyes were almost empty, broken and so full of an invisible emotion. “I stayed that way for thirty years – watched you grow, watched you fall for Bekah, watched you find yourself and become what you are now. I watched Elijah mourn, push himself away from everything. I watched him tear himself apart, then grow older in his mind. He’d moved on in only a decade or so.” She took a breath, licking her lips and looking down at the floor as she remembered seeing them, yelling out to them that she could hear, that she was still there. The broken mind she harbored in that time was nearly crippling had she not already been dead.

“You saw us? How?” Her audience of one leaned forward in his seat again, sadness replaced with curiosity, “Where’d you go?”

“The Other Side,” her lips pursed, “where all supernatural beings go after death. It’s not a fun place to be, and it’s surely no heaven, but it is an afterlife. It is something to look forward to should anything end your unnatural life,” she mocked.

“So…” A hand propped on his leg, and he gave a thoughtful nod, “how’d you get back?”

“I made a deal with a witch,” Ana offered, one eyebrow raised. A huff of laughter came from her, every bit satirical, “Biggest mistake of my dead life.”

“You can’t trust ‘em, y’know,” Marcellus shook his head, eyes downcast as he likely thought of the encounters he’d had with them.

Ana nodded, “No, especially dead ones. They told me they’d let me come back, let me live again. See my brother, see ‘Lijah, see my family,” any humor she’d had once again faded from her words. “I fell for every goddamn word, Marcellus. I couldn’t bear death, couldn’t stand being right next to any of you knowing that you couldn’t possibly know I was there.”

Marcellus only listened, watching intently as she bit back fury.

“She told me that it was simple – she would give me time to find you again, find you all safe, then she would request my services. I’d agreed,” she shook her head, brows furrowed, “why wouldn’t I have? It sounded like a good enough deal. But see,” Ana pointed a finger at the dark man beside her, “the devil’s in the details. That time was only a few months, and I couldn’t actually talk to any of you. And then she told me that my assistance was a two-hundred-year contract over my head, in which she could ask me to do anything she wanted and I would oblige.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. Ana thought it was funny – that tick had been so common among any of the Mikaelsons, bearers of the name or not.

“So she made me into a killer,” Ana looked up, “made me kill other vampires, werewolves, witches. Anyone she deemed fit. But she never gave me my assignments personally, you see. She knew I was liable to chop her head off any given chance I had.”

“If she showed up now, would you?” Marcellus entertained the notion with a joking grin.

“Without hesitation,” she smiled back. There was a sudden switch in her mood, amusement making itself scarce in her mind. “Marcellus…” She breathed out, “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” he answered almost immediately, without question.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth – always the loyal family man. She appreciated that some things never changed. “I need you to pretend I was never here,” she looked him over, “Klaus, Elijah, Bekah, they can’t know I was here, not yet.”

Marcellus nodded, but he gave a her a look that said he knew that wasn’t all.

“And,” she sat up straight, hands flattening themselves against her thighs, “I need you to help me find a way into the Compound.”

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