#but i hope to get done with it just to lessen my Worry Load | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

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Hi! how about one where Levi and his fem s/o sleep together for the first time and reader finds out that Levi sleep talking about how much he loves her and that he's very lucky to have her in his life. The next morning when they wake up reader teases him about it and he's very embarassed? Thank you so much, I’m sorry for my bad English. I love you❤️

A/N: Hello anon! 💕Thank you so much for requesting, this idea just had my heart melting and I loved it because I sleep talk all the time (when I actually manage to sleep) so it was fun to write based on experience (curtesy of my sis & friends telling me about my sleep talk endeavors). I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get it out to you, my ADHD has been really out of control lately. I really struggle with it sometimes, so I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. I’ve also been having horrible migraines on and off for the past couple days so that’s what the beginning of the story was inspired by ��. Thank you so much for your patience, I really appreciate it. Also your english is absolutely fine, love! I hope this is what you were looking for! ❤️

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Ghost on the Shore” By: Lord Huron” 🐉

~~~

🔥Woman of My Dreams 🔥

(Y/N) knew she was supposed to be working, helping Captain Levi with his massive load of paperwork, but she couldn’t focus for the life of her, too distracted by the pained look on her captain’s face. He must’ve felt her watching him, because he glanced up at her, his eyes distant and slightly glazed but narrowed, silently telling her to get back to work. She scowled at him and turned her gaze back to the stack of proposals in her lap, chewing on the end of her pen as she attempted to refocus on the words in front of her. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept straying back to the raven-haired man at his desk, his occasional grunts and annoyed sighs alerting her to his struggle.

(Y/N) was always in awe of her boyfriend’s work ethic, constantly left wondering how someone with so much stress could still manage to push forward. He never seemed to fail at anything he tried, and he constantly pushed his mind and body to the limits, foregoing the need for rest and food in favor of getting everything done in one night. But while that part of her would always be proud of him and his ability to do so much, another part of her hated it. She hated how he’d sacrifice his own health for the sake of others, pushing himself until his body nearly shut down. Tonight, was one of those nights.

She knew Levi had a horrendous migraine. He was usually prone to the headaches that seemed to crack the skull open, but this one seemed particularly awful. He was constantly massaging his forehead and his eyes were unfocused and filled with pain. Tiny whimpers and groans would occasionally escape him, showing her just how much it was affecting him. Levi was usually able to push through the pain and suffer in silence, but this migraine of his seemed intent on making him as miserable as possible. He hadn’t finished more than two pages of work since they had started, and it was clear he was nearing his breaking point.

Knowing his preference for powering through the pain, (Y/N) usually left him to his own devices when he had a migraine like this, trying to make his life easier in more subtle ways like bringing him tea and helping him with more paperwork than usual, but this time, she refused to ignore it. It was clear he was too stubborn to admit he needed to rest and someone had to look after him and make sure he didn’t kill himself.

Setting the remaining reports off to the side, (Y/N) stood from his couch and made her way over to her lover. Before he could react, (Y/N) leaned over and snatched the pen he held from his grasp, throwing it behind her so it could land randomly somewhere in the office.

“(Y/N)! What the hell?” Levi snapped, his voice raspy and filled with exhaustion.

“I’m tired of watching you work yourself to the bone. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Levi shook his head, “(Y/N), I’m fine.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, “Like hell you are. Now, stop being stubborn and step away from the desk.”

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, (Y/N),” Levi said darkly with a huff. “I am still your captain.”

“Well you won’t be anymore if you overwork yourself to death,” (Y/N) retorted. “And don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m your girlfriend, which means it’s my job to worry about your wellbeing, especially if you refuse to do it yourself.”

Levi glared at her, but he was secretly touched by her sentiment. It had taken him a while to get used to the feeling of being loved and cared for, but once he had, he had grown greedy for it. He never showed it, still uncomfortable at the idea of being vulnerable around others, even his own lover, but he would always love how she doted on him, how she made him feel like he was worth something. That if he died, he wouldn’t just be mourned because humanity had lost its strongest soldier. He would be missed, remembered for the man he was rather than just how society had painted him to be. His eyes roved over her usually kind face, now twisted into a frown as she glared right back at him, refusing to back down without getting him the rest he needed. He honestly didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, he knew she was right, but he still struggled to accept her help, almost feeling weak for succumbing to something as trivial as a migraine.

As if she could read his mind, her gaze softened and she let out a gentle sigh. Moving around his desk to stand behind him, she leaned down and laid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing and massaging the muscles with her firm fingers. Levi was embarrassed by how quickly he reacted to her touch, immediately leaning back into her grip. His head lolled against the back of his chair and his eyes closed in bliss, temporarily ignoring the blistering pain in his head.

“Feel good?”

Levi hummed.

“See? Accepting help doesn’t make you any less of a man. Getting the rest and relaxation your body needs doesn’t make you weak by any means. Everyone needs the proper energy to take care of themselves, you especially. You’re too important to lose, especially to something as pointless as self neglect. So please stop working tonight, for me.”

Levi was silent for a moment, fighting with himself over the urge to finish his work anyway or fall victim once again to your undeniable charms as well as the insistent demands of his own body. Just as he was about to open his mouth, ready to attempt one last refute, a fresh wave of pain washed over him, making him gasp. A hand flew to his head, his teeth gritted in pain as his very skull seemed to throb. Through the haze, he vaguely felt (Y/N)’s hands tighten on his shoulders and knew there was no way he was going to get out of this. Once she had made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.

For once, Levi didn’t fight it when (Y/N) guided him to stand from his chair, biting his tongue to keep from gasping in pain as the sudden movement made his head split. He stumbled and started to fall, only to be caught by his lover, the strong woman bearing his entire weight as if he were nothing but a feather. A light blush made its way to his cheeks despite the pain that was starting to make his vision blur. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked, she was in his Special Operations squad for a reason, but she never failed to impress him with her unexpected strength. (Y/N) walked slowly and carefully, making sure to avoid jostling him as she made her way to his bedroom. Nudging the door open, (Y/N) picked her way over to his bedside and pulled the sheets back before gently easing him onto the mattress, ignoring his protests when she began stripping him of his uniform.

His blush got a little darker as she worked on removing his clothes. Their relationship wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been very long either, and they still hadn’t crossed the boundary of physical intimacy yet. He knew she had no ill intent, but it still didn’t stop him from feeling relatively shy at the thought of her seeing him without his uniform.

(Y/N) felt butterflies in her stomach with each article she removed, but she shoved down her embarrassment and awe at his breathtaking form and focused on making him as comfortable as possible. She stopped once he was finally stripped to his boxers and neatly folded his uniform to place on the lone chair in the corner of his room, knowing it would bother him all night if it was thrown around half-hazardly.

Levi’s soft groan of pain brought her back to his bedside, and she quickly shimmied the blankets out from under his legs so she could throw them over his body, taking the extra time to tuck him in as comfortably as possible. As soon as he was nestled beneath the soft blankets, (Y/N) moved to his bathroom to get him some water, holding the glass to his lips for a few sips to help lessen some of the pressure in his head. Finally, she left to grab a small bucket to place beside him just in case he had to vomit in the middle of the night, knowing it might be difficult for him to reach the bathroom if he was dizzy and disoriented.

Placing her hands on her hips, (Y/N) surveyed her work, nodding once she was satisfied with his set up. Flashing him a sweet smile, (Y/N) turned for his bedroom door, her eyes soft and full of love as she watched him.

“Goodnight, Levi, I hope you feel better,” She said, opening the door and stepping through it.

“(Y/N).”

(Y/N) paused, her hand on the edge of the door as she peered back around to look at him, “Yes?”

“Stay with me. Please?” Levi asked, the blush on his cheeks getting even darker as he averted his gaze.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. She and Levi had been dating for nearly six months and yet he had never asked her something like this. She knew they were going at a slow pace, she knew Levi struggled with expressing his emotions, but she had always been content to go at whatever pace he was comfortable with, knowing he was still very new to the idea of a relationship. It had taken him several weeks for him to even get to the point of treating her differently than the other soldiers on his squad.

She had never doubted his love for her, even when her friends had seemed skeptical in the beginning. She could see it in his eyes, but it had taken him a long time to be able to express those hidden feelings physically and vocally. She didn’t mind, she was fine with being patient and had waited for him to come to her, allowing him to have the time he needed to find his words and indulge in discovering his own love language. It was fun in a way, a little adventure between the two of them. It made every new sign of affection from him mean so much more than normal; every head pat, every kiss, every hug, making her feel as if she had just conquered the world.

It was because of those experiences that she was able to understand the importance of this moment. Her shy, reclusive, severely touch-starved boyfriend asking her to share his bed with him, exposing that vulnerability to her, albeit innocently, was a huge step in a new direction for him.

The thought made her nervous, not wanting to impose on his personal space or make him uncomfortable with her, but it also filled her with immense pride. He trusted her and only her to be around him when he was at his most vulnerable.

Swallowing her anxiety, (Y/N) nodded and shut the door again. Picking her way across the room, she quietly maneuvered her way to his bedside and slid beneath the covers beside him, trying to make as little noise and movement as possible to avoid causing more pain to his head.

Levi grunted a little as he shifted onto his side, facing away from her while she reached over to the bedside table to diffuse the lantern flame, bathing the room in darkness. Levi felt (Y/N) shift until she was laying on her side, facing his broad back, the covers pulled up to her shoulders.

“Goodnight Levi,” (Y/N) murmured.

“Mmm, goodnight,” Levi muttered, the pain in his head coupled with her soothing presence making him drowsier than normal.

(Y/N) smiled when she felt Levi fall asleep, his light snores and gentle breathing filling the otherwise silent air. She was glad he was finally getting some rest, but she knew she would be up for a while. She had had insomnia for as long as she could remember and knew it would be a long time before her brain would shut up long enough for her to get some rest. It was that shared trait between her and the Captain that had allowed her to get close to him in the first place, late night talks with tea leading to moonlit confessions on the roof of their headquarters.

(Y/N)’s smile widened at the memory, and how uncharacteristically nervous the normally stoic Captain had been when he had turned to her that fateful night and practically spat his feelings at her. She knew how hard it had been for him to admit them to her, and she had a small inclination to say that Erwin and Hanji may have been the ones to force him to do it, but that just made the memory all the more special to her. It showed her that he really did care for her, that he was willing to lower his carefully structured walls and bare his battered heart for her alone. It was why it didn’t bother her that he didn’t shower her with compliments. It was why she was never disheartened by his lack of physical or vocal affection.

She’d be lying if she claimed she didn’t get a little lonely sometimes, and she couldn’t say she didn’t sometimes wish he could call her beautiful without hesitation, but she didn’t let it get to her. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, so she’d wait for however long it took for him to grow comfortable around her, even if that meant she had to reel back her own feelings for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) was trying to coax sleep to take her when a sudden quiet murmur made her open them again. She waited, wondering if she had imagined the noise, when she suddenly heard it again. It was soft, and very quiet, but it was no doubt the voice of her lover, muttering something. She knew there was no way he was talking to her, he would’ve spoken louder than that if he was.

The thought made her stifle a surprised giggle as she suddenly realized that Levi was talking in his sleep. She knew he’d be embarrassed if he found out she was listening, but she couldn’t help herself, her ears straining to try to catch some of the words. Silence settled over the room once more for a moment, nothing but the distant sound of the wind blowing outside filling the air, but soon enough, the murmurs started back up again, more recognizable words spilling from his lips the longer he talked to himself.

“No…, that’s not…mmm.”

“S-Stop that!”

“Mmph, no… I’m not...”

(Y/N) stifled another laugh as Levi started getting feisty in his sleep, turning to face her with a slight frown marring his features. His eyes were still firmly shut, confirming that he was indeed sleep talking, but the argument he was having with some unknown person in his head seemed to only be getting more intense.

“That’s not true!” Levi suddenly shouted, his voice raspy and muffled by his pillow.

“What’s not true, Levi?” (Y/N) whispered, deciding to tease him a bit. She knew he would probably be annoyed later, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, she wasn’t about to pass it up.

“That’s not true.” Levi said again, his voice lowering in volume but hardening in tone, “Of course I show affection!”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her mouth and bit her knuckle, trying to keep her giggles from waking him up, “Oh, really? When do you usually show affection?”

Levi’s frown deepened and his jaw tightened, “I show affection when I’m with (Y/N).”

(Y/N) blinked, not expecting her name to come up in this midnight conversation. Lowering her hand from her lips, (Y/N) sat up to rest on her elbows, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at her sleeping lover.

“How do you show (Y/N) affection?” she asked, curious to see what he would say.

Levi let out a quiet, defeated sigh, his frown disappearing into an expression that looked unexpectedly like guilt.

“Listen, Hanji, I…” Levi trailed off for a while, the air thick with (Y/N)’s curiosity. So, it was Hanji he was talking to in whatever dream he was having. The thought spiked her curiosity even further, making her heart pound in her chest. It wasn’t uncommon that Levi would be annoyed with Hanji, so the argument at the beginning of his dream made sense, but he almost never talked about his relationship with anyone but Erwin, not trusting the energetic scientist to keep from teasing him and spreading rumors about them. She knew they were together of course, that was impossible to hide from her, but he always denied her details whenever she asked.

“Shit… I… I can’t believe I’m about to do this…” Levi muttered, a slight scowl reappearing on his features.

“Do what?” (Y/N) whispered.

Levi took a deep breath, his fingers curling around the edge of the sheets to squeeze in his fist, as if he was being forced to do something unpleasant, “Hanji, I need your help.”

(Y/N) had to fight to hold back a genuinely shocked gasp. Even when he was just dreaming, she had never imagined in her entire life that she would hear that sentence come out of his mouth. She suddenly wondered if she was the one dreaming, and this was just some elaborate scene her brain had made up.

“Um, sure, Levi, what do you need help with?”

A deep breath rattled from the depths of his chest, “How do I... show (Y/N) proper affection?”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked breathlessly.

Levi grunted in his sleep, his knees rising beneath the sheets to curl against his stomach. “Do I really have to explain it, Hanji?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, you idiot,” Levi grumbled, “I just… I just don’t know how to show her how much she means to me. I’m so fucking lucky to have her. She’s been so patient, so amazing, never complaining about my inability to be romantic, but I’m tired of being unable to be there for her. I’m tired of looking around at the other couples around us and seeing how loving they are, only to know that I can’t do the same for her. I’ve had enough of treating her like a normal cadet on my squad. She deserves so much more than that, she is so much more than that. She shows me every single day that I am loved and cared for, and it makes me sick that I struggle to do the same.”

(Y/N) had her hand back over her mouth again, this time to stifle her sobs instead of her chuckles. Her eyes were lined with silver as she gazed down at the love of her life, her heart thundering pleasantly in her chest. While it was true that she had never had a problem with waiting for him to get more comfortable with her, she couldn’t deny the feelings of elation she was feeling with every word that poured from his mouth. It didn’t matter that he was asleep, it didn’t matter that he didn’t even know he was talking to her. All that mattered was that he was finally saying the things she had secretly burned to hear for months.

Levi sighed, “I just love her so damn much. She’s the woman of my dreams, and I don’t think I can go one more day without her knowing that…”

Swallowing the sob that threatened to crawl past her lips, (Y/N) brushed his raven bangs to the side and leaned down to give him a sweet kiss on the forehead.

“Believe me, Levi. She knows.”

The small smile that appeared on his face made it impossible for (Y/N) to hold her tears back this time, the warm, salty liquid sliding down her cheeks to land with soft taps on her pillow. Despite the fact that his eyes were still closed, (Y/N) gave him a watery smile of her own and reached over to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to his warm chest and curling into his body.

“I love you too, Levi,” she murmured before closing her eyes, the smile still on her face as she fell asleep easily for the first time in years.

____________________

Levi could feel himself slowly being dragged back into consciousness, but for the first time since he was a little boy, he didn’t want to wake up to the slightly more bearable hell of the day. Usually, what little sleep he got was riddled with nightmares, screams of his comrades as they either begged him to save them or blamed him for their early deaths. He was usually plagued with dark, bloody thoughts and visuals that made him wake in a cold sweat, his stomach swirling so violently he was occasionally reduced to emptying the remnants of his dinner in the middle of the night. He never enjoyed being tired or facing the titans day after day, but at least the real world kept him busy with training and paperwork, keeping his demons at bay.

But today felt different. He felt warm, comfortable, as if the sun’s rays were cuddling him in a warm nest. He felt content and unafraid of closing his eyes for the first time in years. A part of him was suspicious of the change, tempted to open his eyes and find out what was making him feel so comfortable, but the bigger part of him didn’t want to leave this unexpected bliss so soon, afraid that opening his eyes would chase away the feeling before he could truly relish in it.

He sighed through his nose, nuzzling his pillow in an attempt to coax his mind back into the warm embrace of sleep when a sudden movement against his bare chest made his eyes snap open, ready to rip someone to shreds. His stinging words immediately died on his tongue when his silver gaze snapped to the (h/c) haired lump nestled against his skin. Ah, that explained why he had slept so well, even with a migraine, which had thankfully disappeared overnight.

Levi couldn’t help the smile that curled at the edges of his lips, the look in his eyes softening as he watched his love sleep against him. An innocent, giddy sense of wonder filled him at the sight of her, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never had a woman fall asleep against him before, many people finding him too cold and standoffish to find comfort in him. But here she was, the most gorgeous woman in the world, cuddled up against him as if he were a warm pillow, her hair splayed out over his chest like tangled silk.

She was so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t get her out of his head. The past few months had been the best he had ever had, his life now full of love and happiness and soft laughter. As he stared at her, his heart about to burst out of his chest, Levi couldn’t help but reach out to her, his fingers brushing her cheeks ever so softly, making his skin tingle with how soft she was.

His hand immediately drew back when she scrunched her nose cutely, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth opened in a wide yawn. A part of him felt sorry for waking her, but as she opened her glittering (e/c) eyes to look up at him, the other part of him felt more satisfied at seeing her cute expression.

“Good morning,” (Y/N) mumbled, her sleepy, raspy voice sending a jolt of something electric down his spine.

“Morning,” Levi said, unaware that his own deep, husky morning voice was making (Y/N)’s stomach flutter with early morning butterflies.

“Sleep well?” (Y/N) asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Levi said, moving his arms from around her body so he could stretch them above his head with a satisfying crack.

“It sure sounded like it.”

Her comment made him pause and glance at her, the mischievous look in her eye making a wave of nervousness course through him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) purred, causing his anxiety to spike, “I was just unaware that you talk in your sleep.”

Levi froze. He talked in his sleep!? He didn’t know he did that! He supposed it was normal for him to not remember the event, and he had never slept beside another person in his life, aside from his mother when he was a toddler, so it made sense that he had been unaware of this unexpected habit, but that didn’t erase the anxiety that swirled in his gut.

“O-Oh?” Levi asked softly, cursing his stutter.

“Mm hm,” (Y/N) said, her smile only widening as she watched his reaction, her eyes glittering playfully.

“Um, what did I say? It better not have been something stupid,” Levi muttered, trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. He almost didn’t want to know, but with the way she was smiling at him, it looked as if he had said some revealing things.

“Well, you were arguing with Hanji for most of it,” (Y/N) said, watching with a deviant smile as her boyfriend relaxed, an obvious expression of relief on his face.

“Tch, I do that when I’m awake, idiot.”

“You also said you were head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger.”

(Y/N) couldn’t hold back her laugh when Levi started choking on his own breath, his sharp inhale of shock getting caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) said with a cackle, smirking even more at the dirty glare he threw her as he coughed, “It was a joke, I promise!”

“Fucking hell, brat…” Levi muttered, covering his face with his arm.

“You did call me the woman of your dreams, though,” (Y/N) said quietly once her giggles had subsided, a light blush dusting her cheeks despite herself as she recalled the wonderful memory.

Levi didn’t choke this time, but his eyes did go wide, his lips parting in shock. He knew she was being serious. Immediately, Levi was filled with a confusing blend of joy and horror, happiness that he had finally gotten the chance to tell her his true feelings about her, even in sleep, and horror that she had found out in the way she did, while he was unconscious and having an argument with Four Eyes about god knows what. Levi couldn’t fight the blush that rose to his cheeks, his skin stained red as embarrassment washed over him.

He didn’t know what to say. He was floundering, trying to think of something, anything to either confirm his sentiment or try to divert the conversation, but nothing was coming to mind. His brain was blank, nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears overwhelming his senses. Suddenly, a soft hand grasped his wrist, gently tugging on his arm until he had removed it from covering the silver eyes she loved so much. Leaning over him, her eyes were glazed with unshed tears as she locked her gaze with his, showing him all of the emotions she couldn’t put into words before leaning down to kiss him.

He unintentionally let out a groan when her lips met his, his tongue immediately reaching out to dance with hers as they tasted each other, slow and sweet and loving. When they finally parted, both of them gasping for breath and smiling as if they had just found the way to world peace, Levi saw that a few tears had escaped to stain (Y/N)’s cheeks.

“I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you for you and all of your little quirks, and I always will.”

Levi felt himself get choked up, but he swallowed past the lump in his throat, focused on making the goddess in his arms feel the same way she made him feel.

“I l-love you too, (Y/N), y-you really are the woman of my d-dreams.”

Levi hated that he stuttered, but he let out a sigh of relief as he finally managed to push the words past his lips. (Y/N) choked out a joyful sob as pride filled her chest like a roaring lion, making her skin glow as if she were something from a fairytale, taking Levi’s breath away. Sitting up, Levi met her half way for another soul-searing kiss, his heart calling out her name as he allowed himself to relax with the kiss, melting into her affection as if he were dipping into a warm sauna, his heart throbbing for the woman who was his entire world.

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charmingyong · 3 years ago

Text

The Rose’s Queen

Genre: prince!Taeyong x hotel manager!reader, humour, fluff

Warnings: just a teeny bit of angst… I tried to keep this angst free

Word count: 12k

Plot: Prince Taeyong didn’t want to marry the King’s choice from Yong Land. With his servant Doyoung, he traveled abroad to search for his Queen.

A/N: Inspired by Coming to America. A Taeyong special for his birth month :D

- ❀ -

His eyes were closed, head leaning backwards and resting on the pillow beneath him. Candles were lined up along the ledge, burning to give off the scent of his favourite flower. The rose aromatherapy bath always relaxed his senses, and the peaceful moment didn’t last too long when-

“Your Highness!”

Taeyong didn’t need to open his eyes to see who it was and let out a heavy sigh. “What is it, Dons?”

“It’s your birthday today.”

“That I know. As you can see, I’m enjoying my present.” Rose baths were only prepared for the young prince on special occasions, including birthdays. On other days, lavender, chamomile, sandalwood, ylang ylang, jasmine, and other varieties found in the garden were used to prepare the prince’s bath.

Doyoung scoffed. “And you are now at the age when the King will be preparing your marriage with the future queen.”

Out of surprise, Taeyong lost grip and slipped under the water.

“Your Highness! Don’t leave us!” he cried dramatically.

Taeyong’s head popped up, shaking off the water and brushed back the long, now wet, silver strands. “Stop being dramatic.”

The servant sighed. “It’s a shame.”

The prince sent an unpleasant glare.

“Your Highness, the King has prepared an event tonight for the announcement of-”

“And before that even happens...” Taeyong stood up from his lukewarm bath and wrapped himself with a robe, tying it closed. “I have to speak with him.”

“Yong, my pride! Happy birthday. Have a seat, son. Your favourites have been prepared for you.” The King beckoned for the servants to serve the young prince.

But Taeyong didn’t sit down in his usual seat at the other end of the table. He marched over to the King. “May I have a word with you?”

“Of course, have a seat here,” his father responded by pointing at the chair on his right.

Taeyong plopped down and refused the sweets that a servant offered, shocking that the prince rejected sweets on his birthday. The matter was indeed a grave one. “This is about tonight.”

“Ah yes. Doyoung must have relayed the message to you.”

Speaking of him, the man with the resemblance of a bunny entered the dining hall, frantically searching for the young prince. “Your Highness, you could have at least worn your undergarment,” he huffed, holding a tray with Taeyong’s silky boxer neatly folded.

The male servants stifled back their laughter while the female ones blushed hard at the impure thoughts.

Taeyong only rolled his eyes at Doyoung and focused back on the King. “Why must I go for the queen of your choice?”

“Yong, we chose the best queen for the next king.”

And the prince didn’t like it, especially having met her once at a formal ball where she only did as trained and asked. “But I don’t want her to look at me only as the future king, I want her to look at me as Taeyong, which she can’t do. Please father, I’ve spent all my life doing everything you say. I’ve done my very best to train myself in becoming the next best king in Yong Land. Can I at least have a say in the selection for the next queen? Please?” Taeyong pleaded with soft eyes, hoping to melt the King’s heart.

The King thought for a bit before sighing in defeat. “I want you to be happy. But I also do not want any compromises for the future of this kingdom. If you can find a queen who can rightly stand by your side for the kingdom, then there shouldn’t be any problem.”

A huge grin was plastered on the young prince, relieved that it went a lot more smoothly than predicted. “Thank you very much. I’m sure my choice for queen won’t disappoint you or the people.”

The King gave him a nod. “Very well then. But how will you select your queen? Our kingdom is very small and surely you won’t find your queen here.”

Taeyong smiled, having already thought that through. “With your permission, I will travel abroad with Doyoung as assistant to find my queen.”

Doyoung was dumbfounded by the sudden request without prior notice. “We are?”

The King nodded. “You have my permission.”

- ❀ -

There was one thing Taeyong had to do before leaving for the quest.

His pet.

His best friend.

His family.

His dragon.

The dragon whimpered, saddened by the prince’s leave, and crouched down, nearing its head by the prince’s stance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon with a surprise,” Taeyong said in a tender tone as he lovingly stroked his dragon’s face, placing a kiss on the top of its head.

- ❀ -

Taeyong stepped out of the airport and was met with the busy streets and tall buildings. He breathed in the fresh air, smiling to himself as he bathed under the sunlight. “The air is certainly more polluted than back home. Don’t you think, Dons?”

The said servant panted as he wheeled the luggage bags in each hand, annoyed that the prince had so much to carry. “I recommend traveling light next time.”

Taeyong scoffed. “I need it all to maintain my beauty.”

“You don’t need anything. You’re gorgeous without having to try.”

“I wonder if you truly mean that or you’re saying it to reduce your load.”

Doyoung fake smiled. “To be honest, both.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “How are we arriving at the accommodation?”

Numerous taxi cars awaited along the curb, and Doyoung pointed at them. “One of these vehicles should help us.”

The prince hummed and waited for Doyoung’s next move, and when he didn’t budge from his spot, Taeyong asked, “Are you not going to prepare the transportation?”

Doyoung groaned. “You really can’t do anything on your own, huh?” Doyoung was lucky that he grew up by Taeyong’s side, otherwise he would have been reprimanded by the royal member. He dragged the baggages to one of the stopped cars. “Can you drive us to the most luxurious hotel around here, please?” he asked.

The taxi driver nodded. “Hop in, mate.”

During the ride, the man frequently checked his review mirror, taking note of Taeyong’s hairstyle and decided to give him some free, though unasked for, advice. “Mate, if you didn’t have a pretty face like that, you’d be mistaken for being a grandfather.” Taeyong scowled at the driver while Doyoung nearly burst out laughing before covering his mouth. “No offense, but do you have a girlfriend, mate?”

Doyoung replied, “We’re here to search for his queen.”

The driver was amused by the choice of title. “Won’t be finding one with a hair like that.”

Taeyong scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair,” he defended. It was his charm and he wasn’t going to let it go.

Doyoung stared out the window at the pedestrians and took note of the popular hairstyles for men in the area. “He is right. We have to change your hair if you want to win your queen’s heart. Excuse me, could you please detour to the best hairdresser nearby?”

The prince was forced down onto the swivel chair by the servant. “Quit frowning or you’ll get wrinkles,” Doyoung taunted.

That made Taeyong lessen his frown marginally.

“Damn son, where did you come from? I’ve never seen hair like this before,” the hairdresser asked as he prepared his tools.

Taeyong observed himself in the mirror. He had a deep attachment with his silver locks and couldn’t imagine having it cut. “Touch it and I’ll behead you,” he threatened dangerously under his breath.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing!” Doyoung exclaimed and turned to the prince. “You can’t say that here,” he hissed in a hushed tone.

“Alright then, I’ll be cutting his mullet off. What about the colour? Do you want to keep it or change it up?”

Doyoung and Taeyong blurted out at the same time. “Change.” “Keep.”

Taeyong glared at the taller boy and argued. “I’m already sacrificing my hair. Can I at least keep the colour?”

Doyoung ignored him and requested the hairdresser to change it to “Brown.”

The two walked into the foyer of the grand hotel. Taeyong looked up at the high ceiling where grand chandeliers hung elegantly, lighting up the vintage hotel in a mesmerizing manner. “Nice,” he approved.

Doyoung strolled up to the receptionist and asked her, “Do you have a deluxe suite available for immediate reservation?”

She nodded. “Yes, we do. I can book one for you,” she replied and began typing into her system.

Taeyong leaned against the counter and found a couple of girls from a distance stare at him, giggling amongst themselves. He smirked and silently greeted them with a nod. They squealed, blessed to have such an ethereal being notice them.

“Looks like I still have the effect despite my changed hairstyle.”

“See? Just because you don’t have a unique haircut doesn’t mean you’re no longer special.”

“I still haven’t let go of my grudge.”

“And I don’t expect you too.”

Taeyong scowled. “I’ll behead you.”

Doyoung scoffed.

The concerned receptionist looked between them and the servant noticed. “Don’t worry. It’s his favourite empty threat.”

She only nodded and said, “I have one ready. What name should I book it under?”

“Your Highness.”

The woman’s jaw hung open. “Sorry?”

Taeyong elbowed him hard which resulted in the poor man to grunt out in pain. “Please book it under Taeyong.” He glared at the boy beside him. “You have to use my name at times like this!”

“I can never be disrespectful and utter your name!”

Taeyong huffed, knowing that his servant only had the courage to drop formalities but would never dare to speak of the royal name.

The woman warily watched the men and handed over the card keys, informing, “Your suite 2707 is on the 27th floor. The bell staff are at the front and you can request them for assistance to bring your belongings up.”

Doyoung retrieved it with a bow. “Thank you.” He passed one to the prince. “You can go up to the suite while I have the staff bring the bags.”

Taeyong found the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened and he walked in, pressing 27. Just as the doors were about to close, he heard a loud “Wait!” Taeyong quickly stopped the doors from closing and his breath got caught in his throat when he saw you burst in.

You were relieved to have caught it in time instead of having to wait for the elevator to return. You casually thanked the man and pressed the top floor of the hotel.

Taeyong’s cheeks dusted pink as he shamelessly gawked at your beauty, your cream-coloured blouse amplifying your radiance. “No problem.” He was surely blessed by the divine beings to have found his queen on his first day abroad. “Do you come here often?”

You blinked at the man, flabbergasted by his inquiry. “Sorry?”

“Will I see you around here often?”

You nodded slowly. “Yes, you will.” You didn’t have a name tag like the staff as you were a special person at the hotel. Not only were you the hotel manager, but also the daughter of the wealthy man who owned the establishment.

He hummed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Taeyong.”

You stared at his hand incredulously. Sticking to professionalism, you ignored his hand and replied back with your name and a courteous smile.

Taeyong dropped his hand to his side and the elevator doors opened to his floor. He stepped out and faced you. “I hope to see again, Y/N,” he beamed, his bright face not wavering when you didn’t meet the excitement. You quirked an eyebrow at him as if he were crazy. Taeyong was surely desperate to meet someone who he had been with for a brief moment.

The doors reopened once reaching the penthouse of the hotel and on the way to your room, a smile grew on your face. He’s interesting, you thought.

Taeyong plopped onto an armchair happily, munching on the sweets available as complimentary upon entry into the luxurious suite.

When Doyoung came inside with the bellhop behind him, Taeyong announced, “I found my queen.”

Doyoung rapidly blinked. “We've just arrived here and you found her already?”

“I met her on the elevator.”

“That’s interesting. Who is she?”

“Y/N.”

Doyoung blinked. “Y/N who? What does she do for a living?”

Taeyong shrugged. “I only know her name.”

“What? Your Highness, you can’t decide on a queen just by knowing her name. You have to learn about her too.”

Taeyong shrugged. “There wasn’t enough time. But I do know that she’s here.”

- ❀ -

Taeyong and Doyoung walked up to the receptionist. The prince leaned against the counter as the servant inquired, “Is there a garden nearby with roses? We would like to handpick some.”

The receptionist lady nodded. “Yes. In fact, our hotel has a garden exclusively for the guests and there’s plenty there for you. It’s located down the hallway with the amenities.”

“Ah, thank you very much. Let’s go, Your Highness.”

The woman looked at the servant with a puzzled face when hearing the title again before shaking her head and resumed back to her tasks. Just as the two men were about to leave for the garden, you walked up to the desk. Your eyes met Taeyong’s and he pushed himself off the counter to watch you with full attention. He took note of your outfit, casual activewear which was a contrast to the professional attire he had last seen on you.

You ignored him and asked Sana for any updates, to which she replied with a no.

“What updates do you speak of?” Taeyong asked curiously with his head tilted.

Guess this was the time to reveal yourself. “I'm the manager and daughter of the man who owns this hotel.”

Doyoung’s eyes went wide at the news of the prince’s future queen being of nobility. Meanwhile, Taeyong’s lips curled up at the information. Even if you weren't from a noble background, he still would have chosen you as his queen. Now there was no way that his queen selection would be rejected by the King.

“We shall take your leave,” Doyoung said and pulled Taeyong by his arm for the direction of the garden. You watched them leave with a blank look as Taeyong’s bright eyes didn't leave from yours and waved his hand.

When the men were out of sight, you asked Sana, “Did Ten arrive?”

She nodded. “Yes, he’s in the studio.”

“Okay. I’ll be there for a bit.”

At the garden, Doyoung got to work with handpicking fresh roses while Taeyong strolled around with hands clasped behind his back. He stopped by one and bent down to take a deep breath in. The scent filled his lungs and went into a state of bliss for a brief moment. He needed to pick that one out for you.

After ending their quest with Doyoung carrying a bag full of roses, they walked down the passageway for the main lobby. Taeyong hummed happily, twirling the stem between his thumb and index finger. His steps slowed when hearing music start from a room. “Where’s that sound coming from?”

Doyoung’s ears perked up. “I think from that room,” he pointed to a dance studio. The door was slightly ajar and curiosity got them to lean their heads against the door. There was a huge mirror covering the wall and in front of it was you.

Boy Bye by Helly Luv blasted from the stereo system and you appeared in their sight. Taeyong’s breath hitched when seeing you dance so smoothly and precisely to the music, being mesmerized by the way your hips moved.

Got a crown on my head make Boys bow down "Are you ready for the Queen?" We shout out loud

Taeyong smiled at the lyrics. He was ready to take you back home as the queen. He could envision the people cheering happily for your entry, and bowing with respect as you’d walk past them.

He definitely needed to see you with the crown on your head.

I don't wanna hate you Boy I try This is for my bitches Ride and die

“Biches? What’s that?” Taeyong asked with scrunched brows.

Doyoung shook his head. “Maybe it was beaches, as in the shore?”

The prince hummed. “I see.”

I don't lose Sit on my throne Sippin' on champagne, gotta pick up my phone You lose

Taeyong was so whipped for you that he couldn’t wait to see you sit in the throne, sipping on champagne, wine, and tea out of your golden cup.

The dance break initiated and you swapped places with Ten. Taeyong was confused where the unknown man came from as Ten did his solo dance before the chorus returned. And that was when Taeyong became furious, seeing the man touch you during the dance.

“How dare he touch my queen! I’ll behead him!” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

Doyoung rolled his eyes and reminded, “Your Highness, she’s not your queen yet.”

When the song ended, you plopped down onto the floor, breathing heavily. “That was fun.”

Ten snickered. “More fun than being a manager, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him, staying quiet on that. It wasn’t that you hated helping your father out with managing the hotel, but you wished to do something more exciting.

Knock knock!

Your eyes snapped up to the door, finding Taeyong and his friend from earlier. “May we come in?” the charming man asked.

Standing up, you invited them in. “Of course, please come in. Can I help you with something?” you asked with the manager tone that you had been taught to use on guests.

Taeyong could see that you didn’t suspect him and his servant secretly observing your dance and so he didn’t bring it up. He couldn’t have the future king be labeled as a spy. “Yes, I was in the garden and I found this rose. It appears to be lacking something. Can you have a look at it, please?” he asked, holding the rose up for you.

What a bizarre request, you thought, but you did as asked. You took hold of the red rose and inspected it, even taking a sniff of its aroma. Nothing seemed off about it and replied, “Well, it seems perfect to me. What’s wrong with it?” You were very confused when Taeyong had picked out the most perfect flower you would see in aesthetic pictures.

Taeyong hummed while softly staring at you. “Now it’s perfect. The rose was just lacking its queen.”

Doyoung started choking on the air while Ten let out an amused “Ooo~”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks from his flirting, his smirk making your heart beat faster and you muttered under your breath, “What are you?”

- ❀ -

The next morning, you woke up in your plush bed. Sitting up, you stretched your arms above your head and yawned. You suddenly thought of the handsome man staying at the hotel, thinking about the way he had been friendly with you, flirting with you. You looked at the rose resting on the nightstand, sinking in the sunlight that seeped through the uncovered windows.

Sighing out a breath, you slipped into your slippers and strolled through the hallway, arriving at the breakfast table where your father’s secretary Kim stood.

“Good morning, Y/N,” the middle-aged man smiled.

“We’ll see how today goes before determining it’s a good morning.” Your day could get hectic and hair-grabbing depending on the number of guest complaints. “We have a meeting soon with the marketing team, right?”

Kim nodded. “Yes.”

In the conference room, the team lead was presenting information that highlighted the daily and monthly sales revenues. To increase the sales, the leader suggested to create advertising campaigns for promoting the hotel. In the midst of the speech, you didn’t realize that you had zoned out until you heard, “How does that sound, ma’am?”

All eyes were on you and you grew flustered and slapped your cheeks to snap out of your daze, making the team concerned if you were feeling unwell. You were once again thinking about the alluring man that went by the name Taeyong. “Sorry, I- can you please send me a copy of the report?” you asked, pressing your lips together from the embarrassment.

You walked into the dining area where various sweets were on display as complimentary for the guests. During your routine check, your eyes traveled around the seating area to make sure the guests were enjoying the treats and immediately spotted Taeyong a few tables away, sitting with the same man you saw from before.

Taeyong felt your gaze while eating his slice of chocolate cake. He turned his head to meet your eyes, sending a wink your way while smirking.

You looked away with your erratic heartbeat. Why is this happening, you thought pointlessly. You knew you were falling for the man whose identity you didn’t know of yet.

- ❀ -

Though Taeyong would love to spend the entire day in the hotel unexpectedly bumping into you, he did want to go out and see the kind of world that you lived in.

Taeyong and Doyoung walked up to the receptionist, the same one they had always encountered since they first arrived. At that point, the prince had memorized the name on her nametag, Sana.

Just when Doyoung was about to open his mouth, Taeyong beat him and leaned against the ledge asking, “Ms. Sana, can you recommend some things to do around the city? I would love to learn some things that my queen-to-be has grown accustomed to living around.”

Sana’s eyes went wide from the latter. “Sorry?”

Doyoung nervously chuckled and added, “Haha sorry, please don’t mind what he said.” He turned to the prince and harshly whispered, “Can you stop using the word queen around casually?”

Sana looked around, landing on your graceful figure leisurely strolling up to her desk. You disregarded the men, which one of them beamed at your appearance. You tried your best to ignore him as your heart rate picked up with Taeyong’s gaze heavy on your side profile. “I’ll be taking a break for a few hours,” you informed her to which she nodded.

Taeyong was pleased to hear that and said, “Perfect!”

You blinked at him confusedly. “Sorry?”

He did his signature half smile and suggested, “Why not take a break with us?”

A walk in the lively park was splendid for the prince. He enjoyed seeing cheerful children running around, dog owners walking and playing with their dogs, couples sitting on the benches sharing sweet treats and even riding rented tandem bicycles.

Taeyong was curious about those two wheeled vehicles. He had never ridden one and to see such luxury where two could ride one… he needed to try it. “Let’s ride that,” he said pointing to a couple riding one.

Your eyes followed his finger and felt blood rush to your cheeks, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of being close to Taeyong, behind him on the wheels. “Um, do you mean you and me?” you asked just to be sure.

He huffed. “I would never ride that bike with this one,” he gestured to the servant.

Doyoung was offended and clutched his breaking heart. “I thought you loved me!”

Taeyong waved his hand dismissively. “Not right now. All of my attention is currently on this beautiful queen,” he flirted with a wink sent your way.

“Don’t say stuff that isn’t true,” you muttered under your breath. Beautiful queen and you? You could only dream.

Though he retorted with a tut. “It is true and I will prove it to you.”

Once you arrived at the stand for renting out the bicycle, Taeyong observed the surroundings, taking note of how the riders paddled their feet in synchronization. He practiced the feet movements using his hands, and quickly hid his hands when you faced him again. “Are you ready?” you asked.

“Ready as always.” Taeyong would always have to be ready for unexpected events in Yong Land. Riding a bike was nothing compared to that.

Or so he thought.

You sat down on the rear end and waited for the one who showed great interest in the bike to sit down. When you and Doyoung held the bike for Taeyong, he threw his leg over and gripped onto the handle, immediately a worry taking over. “Is this going to balance by itself?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t know how to ride a bike?”

Doyoung answered, “No, Your Highness has no prior experience with riding such vehicles.”

You gaped at his words. Not at the fact that Taeyong didn’t know how to bike but… Your Highness? “What did you call him?”

Realizing his mistake, Doyoung’s hand flew to his mouth while Taeyong laughed it off. “Doyoung loves calling me that. Don’t mind him.”

Your eyes shifted between the two and at the end believed him. “Well then, I’ll sit at the front and lead.”

So that was how Taeyong ended up sitting behind you and let out a yelp when you started paddling. He screamed when you zoomed down a small slope as Doyoung chased after you two, fearing for the prince’s safety.

- ❀ -

You were having a talk with a guest in the lobby until you saw your father walk through the entrance with a man of his age beside him, laughing among themselves. You bid the guest a wonderful day and waited to see where your father went. He met your eye and waved at you, gesturing the man to follow him as they made their way towards you.

You smiled warmly and greeted them. “Hello, sir. How are you?”

Your father chuckled and said, “Y/N dear, this fine gentleman here is actually willing to affiliate with our brand.”

You beamed at the great news. “That’s amazing!”

He nodded and continued, “And it will be through your marriage with his son.”

Your smile dropped in a heartbeat. “Sorry?”

“His son is actually the CEO of-“

“Dad, I’m sorry but can I speak with you for a minute?”

The two glanced at each other and your father sighed. “Sure.”

After being a safe enough distance for the man to not hear you, you got straight to the point. “I like someone.”

For a moment, he didn’t say a word, thinking through his thoughts. Your palms grew sweaty when he let out a long sigh. “Who is he?”

“His name is Taeyong. I don’t know what he is but I can go figure that out right now. He’s been staying at our hotel for some time.”

He hummed and said, “If I find that this man is right for you, then I’ll have no objections.”

Your jaw dropped, not believing how easily your father was willing to let go of an affiliate offer. “Seriously? What about the hotel?”

“We’re at the number one spot for the best hotel in the city. I can’t get any greedier than that,” he joked before turning serious and patted your head gently. “You’re all I’ve got. You’ve done so much helping me with the hotel and in return, you deserve someone who will keep you happy. If this Taeyong is the one, then I have no objections. But of course, I can’t have him easily take my daughter away until he’s earned my trust.”

You grinned widely. “Thanks, dad.”

You went up to the receptionist desk and waited for Sana to finish her phone call. Once she hung up, she asked. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Which room is Taeyong staying in?”

Sana recalled the familiar name, one who she couldn’t shake to forget. “2707. But please be careful. They sound like complete lunatics,” she spoke the last part quietly. It was very impolite for staff to speak ill of guests.

Lunatics? “What do you mean?”

“The way they talk- I mean I don’t why the friend refers Mr. Taeyong as ‘Your Highness’ as if he’s some sort of King. And not only that, Mr. Taeyong even called me the ‘queen-to-be’ and I… I don’t know what to do.”

That sounded like how it went with the park outing. The way Taeyong called you queen and Doyoung called Taeyong Your Highness. You thought that was just them playing around but for the situation to arise with Sana as well… You sulked a little merely at the thought of Taeyong not calling you a queen exclusively. “He called you a queen?” What on earth is Taeyong?

“Well, he didn’t directly call me that so it may have been for someone else. But still, these two men really are… different.”

You hummed and informed her, “I’ll go check on the situation. Don’t speak of this matter to anyone else.” She nodded and you strode away.

“Prepare me a rose bath.”

Doyoung did as told, setting up the bathtub like the way he did in Yong Land. He was glad that he had all the essentials for the prince’s special time, only the addition of rose petals were courtesy of the hotel.

Once the prince got into the tub, Doyoung said, “I’m going to the garden for more petals.”

Taeyong simply hummed in response.

Not to long after he left, a series of knocks was heard. He groaned as he wasn’t expecting anyone, and even more at the thought of having the answer the door himself. “Who could possibly be disturbing me?”

He stepped out of his bath and put on a robe. Shaking his brown hair with his hand and letting water droplets fall on the floor, he opened the door with his eyes fully blowing up from having to be blessed by your presence.

You took note of his wet self in the robe and felt a rush of heat taking over your face. “Sorry, did I disturb you? I think I should come back la-”

Taeyong shook his head frantically. “No! No, you didn’t. Please come in.” He stepped aside and gestured you in.

You walked in and composed yourself from the distraction.

“Please have a seat, Y/N,” he said and settled himself into an armchair across from you, leaning into the back with his arms on the armrest and crossing his legs like a king on his throne. “How can I help you?”

First, Sana. “Did you call the receptionist the queen-to-be?”

He stared at you blankly and answered with a slow shake of head. “No, I would never call anyone else but you the future queen.” His eyes turned playful when he noticed you release a breath of relief and asked, “Did you come all the way here to ask me that?”

You pursed your lips and looked away shyly. “Well, I did need this cleared up because…” Should you just get straight to the point? Yes. “The talk of my marriage was going on and I wasn’t happy about it.”

Taeyong jolted upright, the stress immediately rushing to him at the thought of losing you. “Why weren’t you happy?”

A smile threatened to tug at the corner of your lips when seeing Taeyong’s panicky eyes. “Because I like you.”

Taeyong calmed down and shrunk back into his seat at your words. But when the words actually got processed into his brain, his eyes almost fell out of its sockets and bolted upright again. “Did you say that you…” He couldn’t believe it was happening.

You chuckled quietly and nodded. “Yes, I like you. While all your flirting might be obvious, I still need a confirmation though. Do you like me?” You could have been wrong and it was just him being a charming man for ladies. But if he was only calling you a queen, then he had to be feeling something exclusively for you.

Taeyong feverishly nodded. “Yes I do! Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I wished for you to be my queen.”

You felt like you were on cloud nine, knowing that your feelings weren’t one sided. But you did cringe a little on something. “I’m glad, but can you stop calling me queen. It’s kind of starting to sound cheesy.”

Taeyong held back the adrenaline rushing in his veins and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean cheesy-“

He was cut off by the door to the suite being unlocked and in walked his servant with a big bag of freshly picked roses. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you and the prince looking at him. Though instead of greeting you or informing the prince of the accomplished task like he would always...

“Your Highness! Please don’t tell me you’re not wearing any undergarment again,” he spitted through gritted teeth. “Especially in front of her.”

Without meaning to, your eyes went there, and your face was on fire at the thought.

Taeyong noticed it and with wiggly brows asked, “Want to see my royal member?”

Your jaw dropped at the absurdity. “I’m leaving!” You stood up and was about to bolt for the door until Taeyong blocked you.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t leave! I won’t do that again,” he pleaded with desperate eyes.

Doyoung snorted. “Well it’s nice to see that your queen-to-be has a reign on you.”

Your hands clenched in anger and yelled, “Will you stop calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“Taeyong’s bloody queen!”

“Don’t speak like that!” Doyoung yelled.

Taeyong gasped at the audacity for his servant to raise his voice at his beloved. “Don’t yell at my queen! Wait till we get back and I’ll behead you!”

Groaning, you held back your desire to kick him there. “Stop talking like that! You sound like some king wannabe!” you shouted over them.

It suddenly went eerie silent as Doyoung gave Taeyong a look to tell her the truth. Taking a deep breath, the prince said, “That’s because I am the future king. I’m currently a prince in line for the throne. And this is Doyoung, my servant.”

An unnerving moment passed and it felt like you stopped breathing for that time. You looked between the two men who were seriously watching for your reaction, which was you bursting out in laughter. Laughing as if you had completely lost your sanity. Sana was right. They were lunatics. “You know what? I retract my confession and go marry that other guy my dad initially set me up with. If I stay here any longer, I’ll lose my mind like you guys.”

“No!” Taeyong held his arms out posing a ‘T’ to stop you. “I’m not joking. I really am a prince.”

“Really?” You expected princes to enter your hotel in a grand extravagant way. Not just with one other person who wasn’t even a personal guard but a servant. “Prince of what country?”

“Yong Land.”

You rolled your eyes. “The more the reason to not believe you. I’ve never heard of that place.”

“I can prove it to you in due time, but for now please believe me,” he begged with his hands clasped.

Doyoung gaped at the prince’s unfamiliar gesture. “Your Highness has never pleaded to anyone before,” he told you.

You waited to see if there was a change in Taeyong’s expression but he remained resolute. You asked, “So when my dad asks what you do, you’re saying that you’re a prince?”

“Yes.”

You let out a loud sigh and threatened, “I’ll kill you if all this is a lie.”

Doyoung couldn’t believe that someone was threatening to kill the prince in his presence. Taeyong noticed him and held his hand up to stop Doyoung from saying anything. “That won’t happen. I intend to go back to Yong Land with your hand in mine.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, at how serious he was taking you as his queen. You eventually gave up your defenses and softly muttered, “I’d love that.”

Taeyong tenderly smiled at you and clapped his hand excitedly. “Let’s go see your father then.”

“Wait not yet. I should tell him first and see how he reacts. After that, we can set up a meeting.”

Taeyong nodded. “That sounds good. And we should celebrate now that we both like each other,” he said with a radiant smile.

You grinned widely. “I agree.”

In the midst of you and Taeyong staring at one another with bubbling joy, Doyoung said, “I recommend Your Highness to dress himself before the celebration.”

You added the final touch to your look with your favourite lip gloss, twisting the cap back on and pressed your lips together before releasing a pop sound. Once you were pleased with your look, your bouncy feet headed out of your room.

Your father was discussing something with his secretary in the living room and caught sight of your dazzling outfit, his brow arching and silently questioned your night plan.

Walking closer to him, you asked, “Can I go out with Taeyong?”

He nodded at the familiar name. “Did you find out who he is?”

You nervously gulped. How ridiculous was it going to sound that he was an unconfirmed prince? “Yeah…? Well, I don’t know. He calls himself a prince and-”

“Did you just say prince?” he asked in amazement.

You nodded slowly.

“Of where?”

You tried to recall the name. “Something like Yong Land. I’ve never heard of that place.”

He turned to Kim and gave him a look that instantly made the secretary pull out his phone and tapped away, presumably to web search about the land. “I’m afraid no such land exists,” Kim informed.

Oh shit.

Your father gave you a deadpanned look. “This man is a liar?”

You hoped not. “Dad, hear me out. He said he’ll prove it to you.”

“I’m not letting you go out with him until this is settled. Call him over right now.” His voice was stern and left no room for objection.

Sighing, you called Sana on her mobile and she picked up after the first ring. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Send Taeyong up to the penthouse. And tell him to bring that proof.”

“Which proof are you speaking of?”

“He'll know.”

“Okay, ma’am.”

Sana placed down her cell phone and picked up the handset of the telephone, dialing the suite number.

Doyoung answered the incoming call. “Hello? Yes? I see. Thank you very much. We’ll be there shortly.” He found the prince lazing on the couch with a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries. “Your Highness, the queen is calling you up to the penthouse with the proof.”

Taeyong hummed and smirked. “You know what to do,” he said and popped the remaining piece of the bitten fruit in his mouth.

The servant nodded. “I’ll bring it.”

The clock kept ticking as you waited impatiently for the so-called prince. Your father was lost in his thoughts, thinking about what if scenarios in case the man did in fact turned out to be a prince like you claimed. His foot tapped repetitively against the shiny floor until the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get that!” You jogged away before your father would say a word. Just as you expected, it was Taeyong and behind him Doyoung. “Did you bring it?”

Taeyong smirked and gestured his hand to the briefcase that Doyoung held. You guided them to where your father waited solemnly and once his eyes landed on Taeyong, he gestured to the couch across him. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Taeyong sat down while Doyoung stood at the side, ready for the prince’s command.

Your father let out a deep sigh and asked, ��You wish to have my daughter’s hand?”

Taeyong gave him a reassuring sincere smile. “Yes, sir. I only wish for hers.”

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling like crazy when hearing Taeyong say that to your father.

Your father let out a hum in content. “You claim to be the prince of Yong Land, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What proof do you have? According to my source,” your father pointed at Kim who stood off to the side, “Yong Land does not exist.”

Taeyong gave him a curt nod and waved Doyoung over. Doyoung understood the cue and placed the briefcase down on the center table, unlocking the latches and opening up the case. You gasped, covering your mouth for what laid inside. Kim’s eyes blew up in shock while your father’s eyes lit up with amusement.

In the case laid numerous stacks of shining gold bars.

“These bars hold the future of Yong Land. You will see my face imprinted on every single one of them. And as for Yong Land, it is a place of its own and not known to the world outside. That is why your source was not able to locate it via phone. To learn of the land, you must visit the land through special accommodation.”

Your father was silent for a moment before beckoning Kim over. “Check those bars,” he ordered.

Kim nodded and picked one up, weighing the luxury in his hand and inspecting it all around. His brows arched up when he indeed found the face of the man sitting across his boss. For confirmation, he picked another one up and found it to be exactly identical to the first. “The man is speaking the truth. His face is carved in along with the inscription ‘Lee Taeyong, King of Yong Land’ on these bars.”

Your jaw dropped and your heart pounded in your chest at the news. The Taeyong that had been living at the hotel sending friendly signals towards you and calling you a queen was indeed the prince and future king of his land. You were all this time being indirectly courted by him and the news was too much for your faint heart to handle. “You’re kidding…” you mumbled under your breath.

Doyoung met your eye and smiled sweetly, knowing that big news like this wasn’t going to be easy to take in.

Dumbfounded, your father stared at Taeyong who only gave him a sincere smile before shifting his gaze towards you. “I need to have a word with you.” He stood up and headed for the bedroom. Gulping nervously, you followed him out of the living space.

Taeyong watched your retreating figure and waited patiently for your return. He noticed the secretary gawking at him, still stunned by the identity reveal, and offered, “You can keep one bar here. I have plenty more back home.”

You trailed behind your father into your bedroom and he shut the door behind you, pressing his lips together for his next words. “Y/N…”

It was the moment when he would make his mind up and it was a frightening one. You really liked Taeyong and the thought of a ring on your finger that he didn’t put on didn’t sit well in you.

He took a deep breath in and softly muttered, “I can’t believe you’re going to become a queen, sweetie.”

You stared at the floor for a moment, all senses of reasoning left you before his words hit you.

Your father accepted Taeyong.

Hesitantly, you lifted your gaze and asked, “I’m going to be a queen? You’re letting me go with Taeyong?”

His eyes twinkled as he lovingly stared at you, patting your head gently. “As long as this is what you want.”

“Seriously? You’re probably the first parent ready to send their daughter away to some unheard land all because of a prince.”

“Such fate isn’t written for everyone and I’m not going to hold you back from living your best life. Just don’t forget about me and make sure Taeyong invites me there one day,” he joked, pinching your nose.

You rolled your eyes. “You think I’ll never want to see you again? I’ll make sure you see me one day on my throne next to his.”

He chuckled softly at your words and kissed your forehead. “Now you have my permission to go out with him.”

“What is this place?” Taeyong asked as the three of you stood in front of a resounding building with guards at the door.

“It’s a night club. I come here often,” you said.

“What happens here?” Doyoung inquired.

You flashed a smile. “You’ll see.” Your fingers laced with Taeyong’s and pulled him along through the door with Doyoung right behind. The bouncers recognized you and let you all in.

Inside, the music blasted and the timing couldn’t get any more perfect when the song Good Thing played. You giddily guided the puzzled prince around the dancing bodies as Doyoung panted to catch up to your quick movements. Finally, an ideal spot with decent spacing was found and you let go of his hand, moving your body happily to the exhilarating beats.

Taeyong only watched you with a fond smile and you weren’t happy with that. “Come on, Taeyong. Show me that the future King of Yong Land can dance.”

He laughed at happy words and right at that moment, he noticed a couple behind you unknowingly get progressively close to you. Just as the guy was about to bump into you, Taeyong wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest, twirling around to shield you from the collision. The man instead bumped into Taeyong and apologized with a “Sorry dude,” and moved away.

Your heart went into a state of shock as every muscle in your body tensed from the proximity. Eventually, you melted under his touch and smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and swayed your body to the upbeat music.

Doyoung saw the intimacy and cringed.

- ❀ -

“Ah!” Taeyong yelped from the sharp pain.

Doyoung rushed immediately to the prince’s side in panic. “Your Highness! Are you all right? Should I bring the first aid kit?”

The prince licked the pain off his finger and dismissively waved the servant off. “I’m fine. There’s no need for that.” A bright smile stretched over his lips as he stared at his handcrafted masterpiece. “Y/N is going to love this.”

Your lively feet bounded to the receptionist desk and in the greatest mood ever in your life, you informed, “I dealt with the complaint.”

Sana stared at you, worried that you had misplaced your brain somewhere. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

“Of course! Why would I not be?” you giggled.

Sana blinked at your unfamiliar demeanor. “You’ve never came back after a complaint this happy. And it’s Mr. James, one of the rudest guests here.”

You nodded and merely said, “You’ll find out soon.” Sure you were happy that you would be leaving your responsibilities as the hotel manager, but your great mood was because of the man who had captured your heart.

Prince Taeyong.

Just his name made your heart squeal.

She nodded and caught sight of the known face. “Mr. Taeyong is coming this way.”

Your head whipped so fast that you might have snapped it. And indeed he was, leisurely strolling towards you with Doyoung behind him carrying a tray with an item covered by silk cloth.

“Y/N, my Queen!” Taeyong exclaimed with his arms open for a hug.

Sana gaped at him and then at you.

You gave her a nod to her unvoiced question. “I’m apparently the queen that Taeyong was talking about.”

Her lips formed an ‘oh’ at the misunderstanding.

You skipped over to your lover giddily into his arms. He chuckled happily, loved seeing this side of you. “I prepared you something.” He pulled back and beckoned Doyoung over to his side. “I present my Queen a rose crown.” He lifted the silk off and your eyes landed on a uniquely woven rose crown.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathed out. “Did you make this?”

He squared his shoulders proudly. “I did. Here, let me put it on for you.” Just as Taeyong went to take hold of the crafted crown, you noticed a bandage on his finger. He carefully fitted the crown on your head and stepped back, smiling proudly. “It looks more ethereal on you than I imagined.”

You huffed out a breath. If anyone wanted to learn how to make a girl’s heart go crazy, they should take notes from Taeyong. “Thanks, but what happened to your finger?”

Taeyong’s eyes widened by a fraction and hid his injured finger behind his back. “Nothing.”

Doyoung scoffed at the prince’s lie. “Your Highness got pricked by the thorn on the rose when making the crown.”

You gasped loudly and then pouted. “You got hurt for me?”

He leaned closer till you were inches away from his lips. “Anything for my lady.”

You huffed and smacked his chest lightly.

Doyoung cleared his throat. “If you’re done, we have to prepare for our leave.”

The prince nodded and said to you, “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.” Right before the men parted from you, Taeyong quickly dove in to peck your cheek. You yelped in surprise and your heart furiously pounded, the feeling of his warm lips still lingering on your skin.

After they left, you turned to Sana who had her jaw fully dropped to the ground. “Taeyong is actually a king?”

- ❀ -

“I’m surprised you’re not crying.”

“It feels like I’m sending you abroad for school except you’ll be living with this fine gentleman who will be taking care of you.”

At least your departure from the home that you lived your entire life in wasn’t tear-filled. And it shouldn’t be. Not when it was Taeyong that you were going with, aka the prince and future king. No matter how many times you’d heard that or thought of that title on him, your heart still squealed as if it was the first time.

You turned to the man beside your father. “Thank you, Kim, for teaching me everything.”

He gave you a curt nod. “It was a pleasure, Miss Y/N.”

Up next was Sana with moistened eyes. “I will miss you, ma’am!”

You grinned and gave her a warm hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “I will too. You will see me again. And I’m sure your new manager will be just as great as me.”

She sniffed and muttered, “I doubt they will be. You were the best.”

You laughed and pulled away, moving towards your friend who helped keep you sane during your dreadful times. “Ready to see me as the queen one day?”

Ten snickered and mockingly commented, “You as a queen would just ruin the kingdom.” You smacked him and he burst out laughing. “Kidding. I can’t wait to see your power on the throne with that guy.” He nodded to where Taeyong stood patiently.

Once you were done, you bounded to Taeyong. “I’m ready,” you told him with an ecstatic smile.

He chuckled and held out his arm for you. You happily latched on as he grabbed your suitcase with his free hand. Doyoung, as usual, struggled to wheel the prince’s heavy ones. You waved your arm one last time to everyone before stepping out of the hotel towards the prepared vehicle.

Once you were out of sight, Sana burst out wailing, startling your father. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

Her glassy eyes didn’t leave the doors to the hotel. “I wish a prince courted me like the way it happened to ma’am.”

Your father sighed. It was tough to let you go as he now only had the secretary by his side, but a fate like yours wasn’t written for everyone.

Ten coughed pretentiously. “Well… if you’re down, I can treat you like a princess.”

Like a flip of switch, Sana stopped crying and stared at Ten in shock. When she figured that he was being serious with his hopeful eyes, she blushed hard, shying her gaze away. A slow smile broke onto her face and muttered quietly, “I’d like that.”

- ❀ -

No.

You were not.

“I’m not getting on that!” you cried out.

Doyoung sighed. “Your Majesty, this is the only transportation we have to the kingdom. Yong Land is a land strictly entrusted to nature. Therefore, we don’t have an airplane or such technological facilities that can take us directly to the castle.”

If it weren’t for your quicken heartbeat when staring into the huge black eyes of the dragon that patiently waited for your decision, then your heart would have danced when he called you the highly respected title.

Taeyong neared the dragon with such calmness that was beyond your control at that moment. He lifted his hand to stroke its head tenderly and the dragon groaned in delight. “She is our new queen. You won’t hurt her, will you?” he asked with softness.

The dragon shook his head. He would never hurt any of his Master’s people, only the enemies.

Taeyong smiled and turned to you. “See? He won’t hurt you.” He outstretched his hand for you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and asked, “What if I fall off?”

“I would never let that happen.”

After much reluctance with you staring intently into the prince’s serious eyes, you took Taeyong’s hand. He was super pleased that you trusted his word and he intended to keep it that way.

Taeyong climbed on the dragon before hoisting you up, settling you in front of his body. Your cheeks heated at the feeling of his chest flushed against your back. His arms wrapped around you tight enough to make you feel protected. And you did, letting your body relax just slightly ever since learning that dragons were after all real.

Taeyong helped you off, while Doyoung grumbled incoherent words under his breath when trying to get the suitcases off the dragon.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taeyong asked.

You shook your head timidly, not when riding in Taeyong’s arms.

His lips curled up and draped an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to the entrance of a massive castle. “Let’s meet the King.” Just when you were feeling lighter, your steps became heavier and Taeyong felt your body tensing again. “What’s wrong?”

“I… what if he doesn’t like me? What if the people here don’t like me?” You were a new face in a land ruled by great monarchs. What if you didn’t meet their expectations as you were, quite frankly, a nobody in Yong Land? This wasn’t your hometown where everyone in the city recognized you as the daughter of a wealthy hotel owner. Even worse than the people, what if the King didn’t like you because you didn’t come from a noble family within his network?

Taeyong squeezed your shoulder gently to comfort you. “The King is looking forward to seeing my selection for the next Queen. As for the people, if anyone dared to even glance at you in disrespect, then they will have to go through me, and that will not be good,” he spoke the words with such lethal seriousness that his sudden change of expression for his next words surprised you. With fondness, he added, “Plus, there’s absolutely no reason for anyone to not like you. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

You sighed out a breath of relief and nodded. “Okay, I’m trusting you. I think I’m ready now.”

The meeting with the King went a lot more smoothly than you expected when he was sincerely polite with you and was more than pleased to hear about your background as a manager, mentioning that your resourceful skills would help you fulfill your duties to help the people and negotiate with other region rulers. The King couldn’t have been prouder of his son to have found the perfect Queen.

Taeyong guided you to your personal room until the ceremony was over for you to share with him. Whispering in your ear, he joked, “My room is open for you if you can’t wait till the ceremony.” You rolled your eyes at him and he gestured the guards outside your room to open the doors. Your bedroom was massive and elegantly designed with vintage masterpieces. Female servants strode in and stood upright and ready to assist you.

He offered to let you explore the castle as the sky grew darker. The prince decided to show you around outside another time when you were well rested. When it was time for a meal, he forced you to sit at the head of the dining table in a throne that you assumed was his. Your mouth watered at the sight of all the delicacies laid before your eyes, noting how there were equal number of sweet dishes as the savory. The King mentioned that the prince loved filling his belly with sugar-filled goods. Throughout the dinner, you were grateful for the warm welcome into the family, but your jitteriness wasn’t completely forgotten about.

At night, you stared at the ceiling with a growling stomach, the monster inside demanding for food. You only ate your meal earlier in moderation, worried if you would defy any unspoken rule if you ate to your heart's content. Combine that with restlessness from having to be in a land where you knew no one except for the ones you arrived with…

There was no way you were falling asleep anytime soon.

You sat up on the enormous bed. No one was in the room, giving you utmost privacy. Peeking outside your door, you found a guard who was alert and kept his stance showing that he was on duty but relaxed enough as there was no danger in sight.

“Um, excuse me? Can you tell me where I can find Taeyong?” you asked quietly.

The guard blinked before nodding. “I’ll direct you to Prince Taeyong.”

You follow nervously behind his confident strides, slowing down your steps once he halted by a set of double doors larger than yours. He knocked on the door for you and called out, “Your Highness, Your Majesty is here.”

You thought it would take him a while considering it was late into the night. But when Taeyong heard that it was you waiting on the other side, he darted, nearly tripping over his own feet to answer the door.

He did his best to appear indifferent, but his heart crashed in his chest with nerves and excitement when he saw you. He gave the guard a curt nod who mirrored it back and left the prince’s sight.

Taeyong leaned against the door frame and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “What can I do for my lady at this time?” The smirk completely wiped off his face when you nervously avoided his gaze while fidgeting with your fingers. He stepped closer to you and with concern laced in his tone asked, “Are you okay, Y/N?”

Your hunger for the moment left your mind and you didn’t feel so well. After much thought of what to tell him, you lifted your gaze to meet his worried eyes. “I’m scared.”

He stared at you. “Scared?”

You nodded. Taking a deep breath, you explained yourself. “It’s a new place and I don’t know anyone. I don’t know what to expect and not-“

You stopped breathing when he opened his arms out for you, making you melt into them and breath out a long sigh at the comforting feeling of his protective arms around you. Planting a kiss on your temple, he rested his chin atop your head. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. Don’t worry. Do you want me to be with you? I can come to your room or you can come inside mine.”

You nodded stiffly. “Can I sleepover here?”

He pulled back and met your hopeful eyes. “Of course. Anything you want.” He was about to pull you inside until a rumbling sound in your stomach reminded you of something, making you press your lips in embarrassment. It was loud enough for Taeyong to stop and stare at your belly with wide eyes before his smirk made a reappearance. “It looks like we have something else to take care of first,” he playfully commented.

The two of you descended down the massive stairs and he said, “I can get someone to arrange something for you. What would you like?”

You felt bad that the cooks would have to wake up in the middle of the night to fix you something. “Are there any leftovers from dinner?”

He shook his head. “Any remaining are given away. We have fruits and there’s stock on some sweet goods, you know for me.” He winked and you chuckled softly. “Do you always get hungry at night? I can make sure we keep food for you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed to say the truth. “I actually didn’t eat properly because I was worried l would eat too much. I don’t know what etiquettes I have to follow and I didn’t want to seem like a pig.”

Taeyong was stunned by your response and wished he had known sooner to make you feel at ease. This was supposed to be your new home where you could do anything as you please without limits. With sad eyes, he said, “Y/N, you don’t have any restrictions on anything. You can eat to your heart’s content, even tell the cooks what you want to eat at any time of the day or night. Please don’t hold yourself back. It may take a while to get used to this, but this place should and will feel like home one day.”

You stared at him, all previous worries leaving you as a new worry took place. You didn’t expect to make Taeyong disheartened with your words. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”

He shook his head. “I should be the one apologizing. I should have expected that with you being new here.” With a clap to change up the mood, he smiled hoping for something. “So will you now want me to call a chef here to make you something?”

Pursing your lips, you had another idea in mind. “Well, you did say that I should treat this place as my new home, right?”

He blinked at you but nodded regardless, wondering where you were going with your words. “Yes.”

“Then will you let me have the pleasure to cook something in the kitchen?”

Taeyong arched an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“Well… It won’t be me going through the trouble because I wasn’t allowed to cook back home so… can I try here?” Frankly, your father’s traumatic experience of having to witness the kitchen in absolute mess one time was what banned you because he was not about to have you start a fire and have the entire hotel evacuated for your mistake.

He tilted his head and squinted his eyes on you. “If this is you saying that you’re going to cause a mess while cooking, then feel free to.”

You blinked, surprised that he agreed even when catching onto your drift. “Really?”

He smiled and stroked your head. “Of course. Like I said, I want this place to feel like your new home.”

After an unfortunate yet foreseen failed attempt to cook yourself something, without starting any fire thankfully, you settled with having some fruits, accepting a few baked sweets that Taeyong offered you. When you were satisfied, the two of you headed to his room, being mind blown by its size being two times larger than yours and was decorated with hints of roses everywhere.

“You must really love roses a lot that you gifted me one.” You were suddenly reminded of his flirting that time and your heart fluttered at the memory.

“It’s my favourite. Come here.” He pulled you towards the gigantic bed, lifting the cover for your side.

You giggled, saying “You’re such a romantic.”

Taeyong’s lips turned up into a lazy smile. “Only for you.”

When he settled in beside you, you turned to your side, meeting him face to face. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest till you could feel his hot breath fanning over you. You hummed at the warmth of him surrounding you, all fears from before shutting down as you dozed off into your dreams.

Taeyong was relieved to see you fall asleep and pecked your forehead before shutting his eyes with a wide smile stretching his lips.

The next morning, you woke up expecting to be in the penthouse bedroom when your surroundings appeared unfamiliar, until the roses brought back your memories and realized you were in Taeyong’s bedroom.

With the prince nowhere in sight.

“Taeyong?” you called out with a shaky breath, hoping he’d hear you. But instead, a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice was heard.

“May I come in, Your Majesty?”

“Um… yeah. Come in.”

The door swung open, being met with a happy looking Doyoung. “Your Highness had a matter to attend and invited you.”

Your brows scrunched. “What matter?”

He smiled genuinely. “It is regarding your gown for the ceremony tonight.”

Taeyong hissed as he carefully inspected the intricate design. “I see you followed through my plan just as described.”

The tailor nodded. “I will do anything as you wish, Your Highness.”

Johnny, Taeyong’s personal guard, raised a point. “Your Highness, isn’t the dress code gold? I’ve always seen in the pictures that the queens wore gold.”

“Yes, but I’m changing it. Your new queen is worth more than gold, specifically priceless. I prefer her to wear something that represents my ideal queen.”

“And what is your ideal queen?”

Taeyong smirked and was about to answer until you caught his eye, trailing behind the servant. You noticed the other men in the dressing room and focused on the prince. “What’s going on?” you asked.

Taeyong grinned widely with perfect white pearls. He stretched his arm out for you. “Y/N, come here.”

You slowly shifted your feet towards him, taking his warm hand. He excitedly positioned you till you stood before the most breathtaking dress that you had ever seen before. A fully red gown with diamonds studded across the corset and from the waist down to the floor…

Numerous large layers of handmade rose petals were sewed onto the entire skirt.

And if that was what you were wearing to the ceremony, then you were going to stand out in the crowd for looking like a living resemblance of a red rose. “Is this really for me?” you asked breathlessly, your eyes not daring to remove itself from the dress.

“If you like it,” Taeyong said with worry stretched across his forehead. “If you don’t like this, that’s completely fine-"

“Are you kidding me? I love this! It’s incredible! Who designed this? I need to meet this person!” you beamed.

Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and answered, “Well, you’re looking at that person right now.”

You gaped at him. “Seriously? You? How? I mean what made you think of this?”

He chuckled and gestured to his guard. “I was just about to tell Johnny and now I’ll share it with you. I always wanted a beloved queen who will flourish with my lovely roses. Therefore, I wish for my queen to glow luxuriantly in this rose gown. Like my saying goes: a beautiful rose for a beautiful queen.”

A maddening fire took over your cheeks as you stared at him in shock with your blushing heart. Doyoung gagged while Johnny buckled over laughing at the servant’s reaction. “Your Highness, please refrain yourself from using such phrases… at least in front of others,” Doyoung grumbled.

“Do I always have to sit on horses?”

“For ladies, we have carriages. But I thought for experience, you can sit with me,” Taeyong winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and watched him hoist himself up onto his horse, holding his hand out for you. You gave him an anxious smile, taking his hand and placed your foot on the loop but failed to bring your body up. He offered to count to three and at the cue, he used his strength to pull you up as you jumped. You crashed into his chest with his protective arm tight around you to prevent you from falling off the shaking horse and you settled into the seat.

“Good?” he asked with a sly smile.

“More like perfect,” you mumbled with warmth spreading across your body.

“Hold tight,” he said and let go of you for a quick moment, taking off his princely crown to fit it on your head.

“Woah, why are you giving me this?” The weight of his crown felt as if you really were a royal member of the family. You couldn’t wait for the ceremony to announce you officially queen.

“This will let the people know that you are their future queen. We can’t have them misunderstand you as one of the people.” He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “Otherwise, the ladies will get jealous.”

You huffed out, annoyed. “So I do have something to worry about.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Not the kind you were nervous about. No one’s going to throw eggs at you. You’ll just see them have heart eyes for me. When they learn that you’re the queen, they’ll respect you.”

And he was right. The second the people found out that you were going to be their queen, they went from sulking that it wasn’t them sitting with the prince to cheering for your new life in a blink of an eye. You waved at them with a relieved grin from your seat. They felt your sincerity and tried to offer you small gifts as a token of success. Though the guards on their own horses were well trained on what to do in such situation, politely declining them all. But your eyes landed on a small girl, her tiny arms pleading for you to accept her gift.

“Taeyong, can we at least accept hers?” you pointed at the small girl.

Taeyong smiled at your kind heart and nodded. He clapped for the guards to accept the child’s token. Johnny was the one to make the move, hopping off his horse and promised the girl to pass the gift on. He quickly strode over to your side and handed it over.

You observed the vintage gift, an antique bronze and ruby red crystal beaded bracelet. “It’s beautiful,” you muttered.

Taeyong inspected the item in your hand and smiled. “It’s a Victorian bracelet with Swarovski crystals, suitably worn for weddings.”

Your eyes blew up at the information. “That sounds fancy. I can’t just take this without giving something in return.”

“It is a gift and I’m sure she won’t take currency in return but you can try.” Taeyong gave Johnny a nod, making the guard hold his hand up to help you down. You made a beeline to the little girl who was ecstatic to meet you.

You crouched down to her eye level. “Thank you for the beautiful gift. It’s too precious for me to take it without giving you something in return. Tell me, what would you like?”

Her toothy smile touched your heart. “I like Queen and King to always keep us safe and happy.”

Your eyes sparkled at her request, the honesty and innocence radiating from the little girl made your heart grow a deep sense of duty for what you came here for. With the manager smile you always put on for grateful guests at the hotel, you promised, “I will do everything in my power to keep everyone safe and happy.”

She beamed at you so widely that you thought it was going to break her face, and you patted her head softly. Taeyong watched the two of you, smiling to himself for having found the absolute perfect Queen for the kingdom and himself.

- ❀ -

The horns were blown and an announcement was made by the now-former King, who stepped down from his current throne, ready to crown the future monarchs of Yong Land.

The grand doors opened, revealing the new Queen in her stunning red rose gown, her arm linked with the new King who wore a matching colour royal tuxedo. The two walked down the red carpet, posture perfect and elegantly waved at the people standing on either sides of the carpet. Reaching the end, the former crowned the new monarchs, making the crowd cheer happily, with Doyoung wiping away his dramatic tears as Johnny rolled his eyes and patted Doyoung’s shoulder in comfort.

The music cued Taeyong to ask your hand for a dance in celebration to which you gladly accepted. He led you onto the floor and held your waist with one arm while the other held your hand. You stared into his tenderly eyes, the reality too good to be true. Taeyong pulled you in closer, making your heart spike up and warmth overwhelmed you at the intimacy.

You were his Queen now.

#cznnet #nct #nct 127 #taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fluff #taeyong fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct x reader #charm

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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

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pain reliever

TW: descriptive talk abt period cramps ig?, talk abt cysts, mutual pining lol

Summary: in which spencer and Y/N love each other but refuse to tell each other. Y/N's having major period pain, the effect of a cyst, and spencer comes over to comfort her.

WC: 3,744

A/N - this one’s a bit of a rollercoaster. it has three different POV’s so just bear with me please!

masterlist

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don't get me wrong, working at the BAU is amazing and definitely has it's perks, but it also has several downsides too. one of those pesky little downsides includes the amount of time off we have.

meaning we don't have much downtime.

this was one of the rare occasions when we were able to have two weeks off, the result of a very strenuous case.

this time was so exciting, spencer and i planned to go out to a movie he'd been dying to see. nobody else wanted to go with him and were being absolute jerks about it, so i automatically stepped up to go with him.

i went to bed the night before we were supposed to go out after showering. i was actually excited to be able to spend some time with him.

i couldn't help but begin to have feelings for him soon after i joined the team. i mean, who would be able to resist those amazing curls, the sweet smile, kind spirit, not to even mention how smart he is.

he didn't know that, of course. and i planned for him to never know. i was able to keep it a secret for 5 and a half years, and i didn't plan on stopping that streak anytime soon. i didn't want to ruin the friendship i had with him by confessing my undying love for him only to confirm my fears of it being unrequited.

i woke up groaning, the effect of an intense pain on my neck, back, and uterus. I almost immediately knew what that meant, sadly.

i ran to the bathroom, only to find my suspicions confirmed. my period has always been irregular but about a year ago, i started getting terrible cramps when it wasn't anywhere close to the time for my period.

i went to the doctor to find out a cyst had grown on my left ovary so i started taking birth control per my doctor's request. the only thing about the birth control i was on was that it made me sick when i was on the green pill, so i had to stop taking it.

not taking it meant my period was always a surprise. but hey... at least i wasn't pregnant i guess.

when i took the birth control, it also lessened the cramps. not taking it also brought them back. sometimes not even the extra strength mydol was able to subside the terrible cramps that would ripple throughout my body.

those cramps meant that i needed to cancel my plans with spencer. i could only hope he wouldn't take it as me not wanting to spend time with him.

although, i certainly didn't want him to see me like this.

i decided i would take a shower in attempt to wash the dirty feeling off of my body. I could just call him after i got out and tell him i have a bug or something.

i took my time washing myself, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. cysts normally only affect the uterus area and cause discomfort at most times, but it always becomes severely worse during that time of the month.

luckily, my doctors helped create an appointment for a procedure to remove the cyst. the only catch being that the appointment is still 6 months away.

i finished showering and wrapped a towel around my body before popping two mydol's in my mouth and swallowing. i grabbed my cell and quickly dialed spencer's name.

"Y/N! hi. what's up?" he asked sweetly. i could hear the excitement in his voice.

"hey, spence," i started, already feeling terrible for the sad news. "i won't be able to go out today. i really, really wish i could. i came down with something and don't think i'm well enough to go out. i'm so sorry," i murmured, already regretted having to cancel.

"oh... that's okay. are you alright? do you need me to take you to the doctor?" he asked all worried. i giggled softly.

"no, that's alright, spence. thank you though. i think i'm probably just gonna get some house work done in the meantime," i declared with a sigh.

"you're planning on cleaning when you're sick? another reason to never doubt the strength of a woman, i suppose," he quipped, another laugh erupting from my chest, this one being louder.

"that, spencer reid, is why you're my best friend," i said with a smile.

"that and the fact that you actually listen to my incessant babbling and rambles," he remarked.

"i actually happen to enjoy those rambles, doctor. don't sell yourself short," I demanded in a sweet tone.

"thank you, Y/N. you should get some rest. don't overexert yourself," he said sweetly. "in all the years i've known you you've only been sick a number of times, so i would imagine you really don't feel too well," he declared. "goodbye."

"goodbye, spencer. s-sorry again," I stammered out.

I hung up the phone before actually getting dressed in some proper underwear. I threw on some loose shorts and skipped putting a bra on, my boobs were really sore, opting for just throwing a tank top on.

i started with doing the dishes from last night. the medicine was kind of kicking in, not fully taking the stabbing pain away but lessening it enough to where it would be manageable.

once the dishes were done i started doing the laundry, taking breaks in-between loads. during the breaks i made sure to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated.

part of me was debating going to the store to pick up some dark chocolate, ice cream, kale chips, and some chinese, but i decided against it.

i'm sure if i went out i would immediately regret it and have the pain 10x worse, just because that's my luck. so, suffering alone it was.

once i finished all of the laundry, i sat down on the couch. i had been going for about three hours, and definitely felt the toll it was taking on my body.

i turned on FRIENDS and grabbed a heating pad from a bin in my living room. i placed the pad on my upper back and groaned at the heat.

before i knew it, i was dead asleep.

SPENCER'S POV

i didn't buy it.

she never gets sick, and when she does it's like she's dying. she doesn't laugh when she's sick, and her voice wasn't as nasally.

don't get me wrong, something was obviously wrong with her, but she wasn't sick sick. maybe another sick.

what else would cause her to cancel plans with me? she's never done that before.

although, there was one time where she mentioned her needing to go to the doctor for a consult about a cyst. maybe it was the cyst?

wait... her uterus. the cyst was on her uterus.

we were on a case a couple months back, and this unsub was hard to track down. when we managed to figure out where he was, she ended up having to chase him down. she had to run a mile for at least 7 minutes before actually getting him. he was only 25 and was an exercise fanatic.

after catching the guy and bringing him in she had a hard time hiding her discomfort. even at the station, abut an hour later, she was still grabbing her lower stomach in pain. when i asked her what was wrong she told me about the cyst and where it was.

although, the cyst never really affected her energy level since then. she was able to go out on cases and perform perfectly fine.

the only thing that it could've been would be her- ohhh!!

oh...

i should get her something. food. she loves food.

she's probably in a lot of pain right now because of that. she shouldn't have to handle that pain 24/7. she was so sweet, and caring, and generous, and loving, and undeserving of any sort of discomfort.

to be honest, i've had the largest crush on her since after she joined the BAU. who wouldn't?

she's such an amazing person. just being around her lightens my mood. not to mention her beauty. don't get me wrong, i absolutely love her mind and everything about her personality, but the beauty she beholds is beyond anything i've ever encountered. then again, maybe the feelings i have for her boost that beauty in my eyes.

it was that beauty that kept me quiet. why would someone with beauty as ethereal as hers even look at a guy like me? it's like she's not meant for this world. she's too good for this world.

i'm in too deep now to share my feelings. i would do anything to keep her light in my life, even if that meant keeping all my love for her bottled up.

my heart ached at the thought of her in pain that i can't help her subside. the least i could do is be there for her.

i quickly grabbed my keys- yes, that's right. i'm driving for her. what kind of man am i?- and headed out of my apartment.

i went to the grocery store and picked up some of her favorites, dark chocolate, mint chip ice cream, kale chips, and... chinese. she loves chinese, so surely that's what she's craving. if she doesn't want it i would gladly get her whatever it is she does want.

i would give her the entire world if i could.

after picking the items up, i made my way to her place and pulled her key out of my pocket after she didn't answer my knock the first couple times. We had both decided to give each other a copy of our keys for safety purposes, result of me becoming the designated driver after a girl's night out gone wrong.

long story short, all the girls left with someone, leaving Y/N stranded at a heavily populated bar. if the girls weren't drunk when they left then i know i would've scolded them for leaving her in such danger. hell, they were FBI agents and left a friend who wasn't in her right mind alone in the middle of the night.

the only reason i was able to pick her up was because she drunkingly called me, slurring her words together. that's a story for another time.

i held the bags in one hand and the chinese food under my arm while i unlocked the door and quitely walked in. i saw her laying down on the couch, looking so peaceful.

SECOND PERSON

spencer looked at you as you slept. he noticed the heating pad laying on your back as your face was partially smushed from the couch. he'd never seen anything so adorable.

he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gently tapped your shoulders to wake you. you squinted at him in confusion for a second before you finally spoke.

"spencer? wh-what're you doing here?" you questioned him in disbelief.

you had no idea why he was here. you had told him you couldn't go out, right?

"me being the amazing profiler i am figured out what was actually wrong," he gloated. "i brought your favorite snacks and came with chinese food. if you want something else i could always go back out and-"

"did you drive?" you squeaked.

"why wouldn't i? you're in pain right now, that's the least i could do to somehow help you," he gushed.

you felt tears pricking your eyes at his confession. how could someone be so selfless and kind as to put themselves though something they hate doing for you?

"hey-hey, what is it?" he worriedly questioned.

"i-it's just... th-that's so sweet, and nice, and you hate driving, and you're such an amazing person, and i don't deserve you," you sniffled out, the tears flowing past my eyes as you sat up on the couch to give him a place to sit.

He grabbed the heating pad that fell off your back and set it on the coffee table before wiping your tears. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as you lightly cried into his shirt for a few minutes before pulling back.

"sorry about your shirt," you whined.

"don't worry about it. and i truly think it's me who doesn't deserve you, Y/N," he said softly. "now, let's dig into the food. i'm actually hungry right now, i had to smell it the entire way here and it's been taunting me ever since," he said seriously, eliciting another laugh out of you. "oh! there she is! i love hearing your laugh," he smiled.

"oh, you're just saying that," you waved him off as he feigned offense with a loud gasp.

"are you accusing me of lying, Y/N? i'm terribly offended," he shot his hand over his heart in an attempt to mock pain as he groaned.

"i would never, spencie," you taunted with a smirk before getting an actual cramp.

your face contorted slightly in pain as you bent over in an attempt to ease the discomfort. it felt like someone was stabbing your entire lower stomach and punching you all at once. the pain and sudden movement made your head begin to throb intensely, so you didn't know where to put your hands. your stomach or head? you chose stomach.

spencer felt horrible as he watched you go through such pain.

"what hurts, Y/N/N? let me help you," spencer pleaded.

"head. really bad," you groaned.

he got behind you as his hands found your temples and began massaging them gently, being able to subside the pain pulsing in your head. while your stomach still hurt, the pain became bearable again, allowing you to sit up and face spencer. he saw that your eyes were full of tears once again and his arms flew around you.

he hated that you had to go through that... every month too? your pain tolerance has always been high, something spencer learned after you got shot in the thigh and didn't even shed a tear, so he knew the fact that tears were in your eyes had meant the pain had to be terrible.

"food?" he said softly, you nodded eagerly, still being wary of the headache.

he went into your kitchen and put away the ice cream, chocolate, and kale chips before getting the chinese. he grabbed you a water bottle from your fridge before exiting the kitchen and sitting beside you on the couch.

"why didn't you tell me they were this bad?" spencer wondered.

"i didn't want you to worry, or see me like this," you shrugged.

it was true, you hated anyone seeing you hurt or weak. you prided yourself on being tough and strong enough to withstand most things. the fact that a measly monthly period was breaking you hurt your ego more than you'd like to admit.

for spencer, he didn't care. the only thing he wanted to do was make sure you were okay and be there for you when you weren't. he was determined to help you through this time. it made him feel... important. he enjoyed caring for others as it gave him a sense of purpose.

"Y/N, i don't care what state you're in. i always enjoy seeing you. and i'm always here to help you. asking for help makes you stronger than you'd think," he soothed you.

one thing you loved about him was that he always had a way with words. he was able to make you feel safe in the most dangerous situations, calm in the most chaotic, comfortable in the most destitute, and all with words.

you ate your food rather quickly after realizing you hadn't eaten all day. you were unashamed of eating that much, too. you'd become so comfortable with him over the years that you didn't feel embarrassed over something as routine as eating as you normally would with others.

after spencer finished eating he insisted on cleaning up rather than you do it yourself.

and to think, you thought you couldn't fall deeper in love with the man and here you were, falling deeper the longer he stayed.

little did you know that spencer was already madly in love with you.

he came back and sat beside you gently, looking at you with the utmost adoration that you couldn't see since you were back to being doubled over in pain.

"let's get you laid down, hmm?" spencer suggested as he gently rubbed your back.

"mhmm," you agreed, sitting up far too quickly. your back shot out in pain as you tried to straighten out, bringing a groan to your lips and causing you to twist your torso in an attempt to avoid any more hurt. "i guess i can just stay here," you said, resuming the doubled-over position.

spencer wanted to cry himself seeing you so defeated. you were the most strong-willed person he knew and here you were, giving up on something. he wouldn't let that happen.

"you'll be more comfortable in the bed. i'll carry you since you can't get up, okay?" spencer suggested.

you hummed in defeat as he swiftly scooped you up, leaving your body folded up as you swung your arms around his neck. he laid you down on the bed gently as you groaned at your back stretching out.

"turn over on your stomach," spencer ordered.

"wh-what? why?" you wondered.

"you'll see when you do it, ms. stubborn-pants," he teased.

you groaned and flopped onto your stomach, reaching to cuddle the pillow your head was resting on. spencer secretly wished he was that pillow.

his hands fell onto your back, applying light pressure right between your shoulder blades.

"ohh, this is what you were gonna do," you hummed in content as his hands continued to work their magic. he gathered your hair and pulled it to the side as he worked his way up to your neck. "ugh that feels amazing, spence," you groaned.

spencer huffed a laugh at your enthusiasm, him being happy that he can subside some of your pain. if doing something as simple as giving you a massage made you happy, he was happy.

spencer worked his hands back down to your shoulders and worked out nearly every single knot on your back. you felt your breathing slow from the relaxation and didn't even realize how good of a distraction your hands on her body were. if only you could massage my boobs, you thought with a laugh.

"umm... what?" spencer questioned.

"hmm?" you questioned, suddenly realizing that you had said that out loud. "i didn't say anything," you said, your voice raising an octave as you spoke.

spencer knew what he had heard, but decided to drop it to make you more comfortable.

"right, sorry," he said with a smile. maybe you did have feelings for him.

he continued the massage and noticed you were asleep after about ten more minutes. He sighed as he watched your hair move with each breath you took. he relished in the fact that he helped you achieve something, that he was useful for something.

"god, i love you so much," he whispered. "i love you so much, i don't even think i could tell you how much i truly love you."

you were awake. you heard him. you heard every word. you were in that weird between stage when you weren't really asleep, but you weren't necessarily awake either.

"i love you too, spencer," you spoke.

spencer shot up at your words, realization hitting him as you stirred in what he assumed was your sleep. you rolled over onto your back and looked into his eyes.

"i love you so, so much, spence," you smiled, noticing the shocked look on his face.

"y-you do?" he babbled.

"of course i do. how could i not?" you quipped, noticing his utter nervousness.

"i-i can't believe it. you love me?"

"how many times do i have to say it? i love you, spencer reid. i love you," you said as the shocked expression on his face turned into one of pure happiness and joy.

"i love you, Y/N Y/L/N. i've loved you for so long..." he trailed off, bringing your body into his arms.

"and fyi, i mean the romantic way if you didn't catch that," you joked.

"good because that's exactly how i meant it," he said, pulling back to look at you once again. "ca-can i kiss you?" he asked as his hands were balanced on the back of your neck.

you nodded eagerly before his lips crashed into yours passionately as you placed your hands on his face. the feeling of his sharp jawline with his scruffy facial hair something you've been wanting to feel against your skin for far too long.

spencer tugged gently at your hair, bringing a soft moan to your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth gingerly. he was immediately granted dominance as you allowed his tongue to travel into your mouth, investigating it thoroughly.

you were both in a state of euphoria as you delved into each other's presence in a new manner. both of you knew this discovery would change your relationship, but you had both gone through every scenario in your minds in the many years' past.

you finally pulled back at another sharp pain in your uterus.

"ouchhh," you grimaced.

"are you okay? what can i do?" he wondered eagerly.

"just cuddle with me?" you asked with pleading eyes.

"of course i can," he smiled.

he moved up to the headboard and laid his head on one of your pillows after getting underneath the covers. after he opened his arms, you rested your head on his chest and threw one arm over his torso, interlacing your legs underneath the sheets. he brought one arm around your waist as the other drew you closer across your shoulders. You nestled your head into his neck and inhaled his comforting scent.

"you smell good," you giggled.

"thank you," he laughed at your compliment.

"spencer?" you asked.

"yea, Y/N?"

"you're my pain reliever."

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid fluff #fluffy spencer #comfort

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vasiktomis · 3 years ago

Text

Pomegranate, Chapter 18: Quiet Earth, Part II.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here! Notes: Co-angels @honeysides, @shallow-gravy, and @lilwritingraven all provided immense support while I toiled over this chapter, which I am forever immensely thankful for. Never would've been able to give people second-hand embarrassment like this without y'all enabling me. As always, thank you for reading!

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence. Sexually-explicit content. An angry cult leader with performance anxiety. You know the drill.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The comparative tranquillity of Seed Ranch had a way of making Cora feel like time was moving slower than it should have. In all seriousness, the chain-reaction of their escape from Fall's End was still firing, but without the gunshots and the shouting, approaching the property felt more like being in stasis. It was too still. Too unassuming.

The Project members awaiting John on the steps of the property were vigilant about a thorough, yet strangely distant reception of the man, as if they’d been hard-wired to anticipate his moods; warmly welcoming him home, but giving the man such a wide berth that one might have assumed he was carrying a live grenade.

Cora supposed he was at least consistent in his inconsistency; just as volatile toward his allies as he was his enemies. She wondered if the serenity of the ranch was a natural element of John's sect; whether they simply cared enough about the man to know his boundaries to the inch - or whether such a light-hearted environment was manufactured deliberately and specifically around his temper.

The Deputy’s presence did well to break the façade, however. It brought with it a range of cautious exchanges from the followers that ushered them into the home; some in fear of re-living the bedlam of her bunker escape, and others casting stern looks between her bare midriff and their leader’s refusal to leave her side.

She noticed it, too - how he stuck to her like Velcro.

It was only after she was administered pain medication and had her wound dressed (they’d been gracious enough to re-dress the haphazard bandaging on her hand, too) that John abruptly took his leave, excusing himself to apparently more pressing matters. Cora was simply confined to the foyer, drifting in and out of snoozing consciousness on one of the couches in front of the fireplace.

All in all, the mental and physical exhaustion of conceding defeat to the Project proved in all honestly a little boring. The blonde had expected she might break down once she was left alone. It seemed about the right time for it, and yet, all she felt was tired. Was it the cult who had done this to her? Run her so ragged that only anger remained?

Ideas of escape waxed and waned with cultists moving in and out of the space periodically to check in on her, lessening in their hostility with each passing visit until their warnings not to cross them turned into beratements over her refusal to sit still, for the love of Joseph.

In her restlessness, she sorted through thoughts and memories, deciding on the conclusion that while yes, today had been devastating, she’d long since thrown away her capacity to recognise it. It had been so long since she’d spared herself any emotion beyond rage that everything else felt only vaguely different. She might’ve broken down, had she not forgotten how to do such a thing. Trying only gave her a stomach ache, and so she resigned herself to waiting it out, growing more and more impatient with how undramatic this aftermath had turned out to be. How her captor had left her so unceremoniously after being declared victor.

Maybe he was similarly nonchalant about all this.

...No. That was impossible. He'd probably just excused himself to go dance a celebratory little jig. Perhaps he'd stepped through a hornet's nest in doing so, or been ambushed by coyotes. Something beyond mere choice that warranted the excuse to disappear like that.

The skylights in the ceiling changed hues over the course of what felt like hours, however, and John did not return.

It felt weird, being in his home without him present. It felt weird being fussed over by house staff who muttered for her to stop picking at her bandages while she lay across his furniture, warmed by his fire. It felt weird that her exposure to Sharky and Jess had finally led her to identify that the strange smell she’d always detected in the Baptist’s home was unmistakably raw cannabis.

Eventually, the clatter of plates and bubbling conversation drew the Deputy away from the couch and around to the other end of the foyer. The gigantic table she’d only ever seen stacked high with bibles in the past now carried an assortment of food, picked at by passing cultists like a barbeque line while they chattered away.

Watching them almost felt like watching her family back in Brooklyn. Waiting out the messy crossed streams of conversation in hiding until the coast was clear and the kids could swarm the reward of food without the labour of having to hang out with the adults. It was strange, how they mimicked a family, when the only similarity Cora could gauge between them were the logos printed on their clothes.

The spying didn't last. One pair of eyes flickering to her quickly became ten, and Cora's heart rate skyrocketed. Instinct kicked in. Eyes combing over each Peggie around the table for weapons. Hands reaching for her own absent holster and emptied pockets.

The group did not respond in-kind. Apparently, they were too preoccupied with loading up their plates to deal with a leader of the Peggie-killing movement in their space.

Cora didn’t buy it. Not straight away. Not until her gaze darted around the rest of the room, weighing up which of the Baptist’s gaudy home decorations might be most effective at bone-crushing and-

“Look who’s got her colour back.”

…

What?

The same cultist who spoke up - a woman - one of the group who’d been at the church earlier, gestured at the table. “Hungry?”

What?

One Peggie with a particularly heavy beard slid a plate over the table toward Cora. Two younger girls over his shoulder giggled to each other.

“Do you think we should offer her a shirt?”

“I’m not that brave. Leave it to John.”

“Anything fresh is all from the garden.” The bearded Peggie spoke, pulling Cora’s scowl away from them with a smile.

She inspected the table. Undersized apples and strawberries. Home-grown, by their imperfections. Multi-coloured silver beet and slightly burned sweetcorn. Homemade bread piled an end of its own, surrounded by a selection of preserves in blank jars. All of it, against her will, served as a reminder that she’d only ingested coffee today. This was bizarre, but she was hungry. Not to mention the Resistance diet consisted mostly of canned spaghetti.

Gingerly, the Deputy picked at one of everything, and while the group of cultists continued chatting, she stood awkwardly by on the side-line, trying to figure out the most efficient means of eating corn while still maintaining a hostile air about her and lot letting slip that it was fucking delicious.

Apparently tearing into the thing wasn't adequately frightening. The same talkative man split from the party to approach her, ignoring the roll of her eyes. A spot of shine glided over his bald head while he moved around the table, and as he neared, he gave her a moment to squint at him.

There was something familiar about that overbearing air.

“We’ve... -”

“Met.” He confirmed. “Briefly.”

“When?”

“Months ago now. I, uh, almost baptised you.”

Cora chewed the inside of her cheek, considering that. Somewhere in the back of her mind the memory of wet rocks beneath her feet swelled with the lapping of shallow waters. Just tap my arm if you need to come up for air.

He shrugged at her silence. “You were pretty Blissed-”

“No, I remember you.” The Deputy mumbled, turning her attention back to her food, intent on keeping it there. It didn’t last long. A hand stretched out before her, and with a laboured, full-mouthed sigh, she shook it.

“Andrew. Glad to see you again.” He offered.

“Okay.”

The silence was as painful as she’d hoped to make it, but tragically, he was resilient.

"Andy works, too-"

"Andrew's syllabically identical and perfectly sufficient. Where's your boss?"

“Upstairs, working.”

“And he’s asked not to be disturbed.” One woman interjected. “So don’t get any ideas.”

Cora blinked at that. Then, plate still in-hand, she spun on her heel and made for the staircase.

Behind her, the group exchanged a collective look of panic.

"Ma'am?"

"Sister?"

"Hey!"

“We’re not allowed up there!”

“Perfect." Cora grumbled back, already ascending the steps. "Then you don’t have to worry about following me.”

The second storey of Seed ranch was dead still in comparison to downstairs. A hallway presented a quiet stretch of closed doors and branching hallways that led out to balconies, part way between residential space and tactical efficiency.

Back in the day, she’d assumed the Baptist just had a thing for doors. Looking around at the space now, it was clear that John was well-aware of how many enemies he’d generated thanks to his work.

The crackle of a radio up ahead drew the Deputy’s attention, and as she drew closer, a hushed curse.

“Pick up. Come on, pick up.” John murmured. Then, in a brand new tone: “Joseph. Brother. I need you to call me back. Please, it’s been - just...whenever you can. I’ll be here.”

She found him beyond a cracked doorway, hunched over a desk. His fingers smoothed through damp hair hair, tugging, jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

The door creaked as Cora pressed against it, and in the time it took for her to cringe at the noise, John had sat up straight, shifting out of whatever private mood she’d spied him in. He blinked up at her, inhaling deeply, reeking of uncertainty.

She felt it too. Of all the scenarios to catch him alone in, the blonde hadn’t expected that she’d be brandishing sourdough.

A moment passed. Both of them trying to feel out this new territory.

“Hey.” Cora eventually muttered.

John exhaled. “Hi.”

“Brought food.”

He looked away. “Deputy, pleased as I am that you’re making yourself at home, I asked for privacy.”

“Since when did you value privacy?” Cora asked, pushing into the room and seating herself on the desk. The tired irritation on John’s face when she set the plate in front of him was worth the day of boredom already. He glanced up at her, and she responded with a wolfish smile.

“You have corn in your teeth.” He mumbled, relenting, posture slackening. “And you’re getting blood flakes on my desk.”

The Deputy tried not to look so hurried about picking. “Isn’t that a garnish in Japan?”

“That’s fish. You’re thinking bonito.”

“I know what I’m thinking.”

Another pause.

“Is that what you thought you were filleting in the church? Bonito?”

Annoyed silence.

“It was Nick.”

Finally, John scoffed, glaring at her, offering a reluctant nod when she flashed her teeth to confirm she’d gotten rid of the food in her teeth. “You are so funny.”

“Thank you. Eat something.”

Cora watched the man regard the plate in front of him.

“How generous of you to take a bite out of everything first." His gaze landed on the shredded corn cob. "Except for that. That, you demolished."

"Yeah, well." Cora plucked up the same piece of bread he'd been reaching for. "Why're you hiding up here? Thought maybe you would've starting laying on the torment by now. Not...brooding."

"Brooding."

"Yes."

"Pardon me for needing to adjust to having a murderer in my home."

Cora hummed at that, casting a look around the room. "Took you about 2 seconds to adjust to a murderer's tongue in your mouth-"

"Deputy." John spat, pushing the plate away from him in a final display of denial. "Please, leave. I'm busy."

“No, you’re not.” Cora bit back. “I want to know what your plan is. Now you’ve got me, what’s next? What’s the point in me sitting around on your couch all afternoon? You don’t leave me alone, ever, and now that I’m here you want me to make myself scarce?”

The Baptist's jaw rolled in annoyance, and when Cora shifted her legs to face him easier, he jerked away from her, avoiding contact. “You’ve grown too accustomed to being in the spotlight." He grumbled.

“Stop avoiding the question.”

“What question?”

“What’s your deal? What's the plan? What happens now?”

“The plan is to get back to work. My apologies if your assumption was that you were the main goal of this valley, but there are dozens of things that require my attention-“

“Like sitting by the phone for your brother for hours?”

John paused at that. Something old and familiar flashed over his expression, and he stood from his seat. “You’re jealous.” He accused.

Cora’s lip curled, ears running hot. “You’re wasting time, and I want to know why.”

“Is that why you're nosing through my business? If I gave you details - what I'm working on - what the next step is - is that a strategic win for you?" His palms slid against the desk, planted on either side of her legs. "Or is my lack of undivided attention so awful to you that anything to help rationalise it would do?"

Something in her celebrated that look on his face. The renewed confidence in his attitude. It enraged her, but it was scores better than his absence.

She scowled, but she didn’t pull away when John leaned down into her space. It didn’t work the way it used to. Now it didn’t feel close enough. Now she wanted to part her legs and pull his hips against her.

It was a discomfort she’d never known before, and now, even with her wounds dulled, it almost felt painful. She wanted to know what the plan was. She wanted to plan an escape. She wanted to have just this one little victory if this was the end of the line. If he was going to convert her, then she could at least undermine him by ruining his faithfulness. It might destabilise him enough that she could find some advantage to getting back to Fall’s End. That would make it okay, if it were all driven by strategy or revenge. Her curiosity would be sated.

But then, as if he could hear her thoughts from the sheer volume of their demands, John drew away from her.

“You should shower.” He muttered quickly, snatching the radio from the desk. “Across the hall, on the right.”

He didn’t look at her as he left the room. He didn’t look back when he disappeared down the hall and made for the stairs.

Cora glared ahead at the space he'd left emptied.

What a fucking coward.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Despite her soured mood, Cora had done as she was ordered. She spent all of two minutes rinsing the old blood from her skin, and another ten reflecting in quiet judgement over the bottle of 3-in-1 sitting in the shower caddy with her. Maybe she should've allowed herself the opportunity to warrant having to bathe here earlier. Maybe she'd have developed more of a sense of disgust for the man if she had.

The clothes she’d arrived in were still stained, but it was an improvement. Less of a sensory distraction while she sorted through her thoughts, at least.

While the Deputy dried off and re-dressed, the haze of pain relief began to lighten, and she was able to focus on cobbling together some kind of a plan to get herself out of Seed Ranch. She might have conceded defeat, but the hideous tattoo marking her sternum didn't mean she was suddenly going to behave. Especially if her captor was refusing to even the playing field and let her know what the hell they were supposed to do now.

Whatever John was keeping from her, it was urgent enough that his entire demeanour had changed. What did he need from Joseph so desperately? If it had anything to do with the Resistance, or if had anything to do with Joseph coming here, the Deputy intended to put a stop to it.

If John Seed’s intention was to avoid her, he should’ve thought twice before locking her in his home. Ensuring that he’d keep his distance, however, was the easy part.

The real goal would be getting him away from that radio.

Descending the stairs, Cora found John in solitary silence in the foyer. There was no sign of the Peggies serving up supper anymore, and the dining table had been cleared.

John was alone, sitting on the couch by the fireplace with his head in his hands, no less agitated than when she’d first found him. The hand-held sat close by on his left. In front of him on the coffee table was a landline phone that hadn’t been there previously.

He didn’t notice her at first. To his credit, she didn’t announce herself until a creak of the stairs did it for her. Then, the snap of his gaze toward her was instant. Hyper-vigilant.

Cora reached the first floor. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Minding the perimeter.” John answered, making space for her to take a seat but keeping himself faced away. “You’ll be pleased to know that your troop is still yet to be captured. Little doubt they’re aware that you’ve been brought here. Even less that they’re on the hunt for you, given the state Fall’s End was in when we left. Boshaw seemed happy enough to blow up half the town to get to you. Shorty."

There was no mistaking his bitterness at the nickname.

When she approached, Cora found a folded Project sweater sitting where she intended to. John’s jaw rolled when she slowed to glare at the thing.

Still, he refused to look at her.

“Put it on. You’ll freeze.”

“I’d rather not look like one of you when the Resistance comes to rescue me.”

“You are one of us, now. Almost. Once you’ve pledged yourself to the Project, they needn’t consider it a rescue effort any longer.”

Cora huffed in response, pulling the sweater over her head and slumping into the couch. “You sound a lot less happy about that than I’d expect.”

“I’m fine.”

Stonewalling. Now she was beginning to understand how annoying it was when she did it.

“I’ve made enough of a career out of it to know what you look like when you’re not fine.” The Deputy remarked.

“I think I preferred it when I was asking all the questions.”

“I think you preferred me when I was tied up in a basement.”

That comment caught a glance. Amusement, unnoticed on her part.

“So, what - you’ve been sitting beside a radio all day and somehow weren’t inclined to terrorise me? Or were you just that busy arranging flowers for my Atonement?”

“Are you feeling stood up?” John asked. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were projecting, Deputy.”

Her ears flushed hot. Immediate rage flooded pitted in her stomach, but as much as the blonde would have liked to get up and stomp elsewhere, she had little other option without any better ideas.

Right now, this was all she had.

Channelling her inner Adelaide.

Cora inhaled, swallowing back a cursory retort. “Both work.”

In her periphery, John ceased all movement, staring straight ahead.

All she had to do was pressure him enough to move away. Then it was over. She’d been rejected by him before - anticipating it happening again shouldn’t have needed to feel as gross as it did.

“Maybe I think you got scared, not having me under your control.” She went on, finding the words already prepared on her tongue as she turned toward him. “You seemed like you were enjoying it when it was you-”

“-and then you punched me in the face.” John cut in stiffly.

“Didn’t deter you.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s against the rules.” The clip in his tone signalled a warning. Then, an impatient sigh escaped his nostrils. “And you said it yourself: it was a mistake.”

He wasn’t going to look at her. There was no pulling at his attention while he could hide her in his periphery.

“Is that why you’re upset?” She made a quiet move to touch her fingers to his forearm, but he pulled away with a scoff.

“If you’re trying to buy time -”

“Are you frustrated?” Cora pressed on. His shifting had given her enough leeway to get herself between him and the phone, and she took her opportunity, sliding down to kneel between the couch and the coffee table. Directly in front of him. “Knowing what people say about you?”

John finally inclined his head to sneer down at her, but if he had anything he was intending to say, it was silence by the bob of his Adam's apple. A gulp. His breathing was the only audible sound in the room, barring herself; shallow and staggered.

Almost there.

Cora kept her eyes on his. She wouldn’t lie - despite sitting at his feet like this, she could still gauge the power that she held. That while, yes, there was a spark of disappointment that came with watching him ignore her advances, there was also some odd thrill in watching the man who’d made multiple attempts on her life struggle so much. Knowing that, even with her unarmed and kneeling - even with all his connections and soldiers, and everything he'd done to her - he was powerless.

He’d taken her freedom, but she could get that back. She’d compromised his loyalty to dogma. Nearly made the tallied notches on his arm into a lie. He'd have to start again from the ground-up. He'd be middle-aged before he found the same progress.

“Now that I’m atoned. Now that no one’s watching.” She sat up, drawing closer to his thigh, inwardly cursing at his refusal to move away this time. “All that work you put into catching me, and now what? Nothing?”

“Deputy.” John growled, low and dangerous.

“You want this.” Cora concluded, watching the flush of red bloom from beneath his collar and the flex of his jaw while he grit his teeth.

“There are bigger things at stake right now-”

“And even now that you have me, you’re too scared to do anything about it.”

John inhaled a swift breath, averting his gaze. “That’s beside the point.”

“You want this."

“Would you quit it? You’re wrong.”

Finally, the Baptist shoved himself out of the couch, back-stepping several paces until he was half-way across the room. Once he’d gotten himself to a safe distance, he regarded the Deputy once more, gaze cold and angry while she cycled through unknown victory and equally unknown disappointment.

He wasn’t going to be made to give in.

“You haven’t been atoned. Not yet.” John breathed, turning on his heel and marching into the kitchen.

Cora stared at the doorway he'd escaped through. Now was her chance.

One...two...three...

Okay. He wasn't coming back in a hurry. She'd successfully scared him off.

There was no time to waste.

While the faucet ran in the next room, Cora twisted around, snatching the phone upside down and hastily unclipping the cable from the device. The dial-tone cut to silence. Communication blocked, but cord hooked up to the damn thing was already conspicuous without evidence of tampering. She couldn't just discard the cable.

There was no way John wouldn’t notice its absence when he returned, and so the Deputy did what any effective home invader would do.

She bit down on the cord, close as she could to the adapter, chewing hard until grinding wire snapped between her teeth. When she plugged the cable back in and set the phone straight again, the machine remained dead, but intact.

Good. That'd buy some time.

The radio was next. Rather than switch the device off, Cora tuned it a few notches, finding a dead station and placing it back right where John had left it.

Done.

Sabotage successful. If Joseph had any intention of making a call-back soon, he’d be going unheard. There was no telling how long it would last, but unless the Baptist was stocked on landlines, half of his communications were disabled entirely.

Cora exhaled, inviting in the momentary relief. Being kept here was one thing. Having to be in the same room as Joseph Seed was another dimension entirely.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She called, rising to a stand and following the Baptist’s trail.

No response.

When Cora entered the kitchen, John was dabbing his neck with wet hands. The moment he sensed her, he grumbled a sharp curse, bracing his hands against the counter to keep from facing her.

“Is this the plan? We just sit and wait?”

His shoulders seized. “...Yes.”

Cora stalked past him, finding a counter of her own to lean against, finding her own patience dwindling. Coiling irritation at the very notion of Joseph having so much sway over the Baptist that he could seemingly halt time.

“So what’s the point in taking me? In bringing me here?” She spat.

“Disregarding our personal rapport, it’s no small matter, having you here.” John ground out. “My family will want to know-”

“Have you tried calling Jacob?”

Something twitched in John's expression. A button, pushed. Dispelled rage.

“The Father will-”

There was no holding back the snarl that brewed in her throat. Hitting its boiling point. He did have that much sway over the man. They were sitting here in stasis, all because of him.

“Are you that fucking sad? We’re stuck here just because you need to hear Joseph tell you how well you did? A whole fucking resistance effort just blew up half of Fall’s End. You caught me. Dozens of people are dying, and all you can do is sit by the phone?” Cora demanded, scowling while his muscles trembled. “Are you serious?!”

“WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO, CORA?!” John bellowed, head snapping around to fix her in place, eyes blazing. The sheer volume of him froze her to the spot. "Did you assume that you were somehow different from anyone else the Project takes in? That your place here; that you're even alive had anything other to do than Joseph requesting it? Did you think that you'd somehow slipped through every possible crack in the system for any reason beyond this path being carved specifically by the Father? Because, frankly speaking, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

The Deputy didn't reply. She couldn't.

Not that it would've mattered.

John, it seemed, was far from finished.

“You're so selfish. One moment you insist on making your own salvation impossible. The next, you assume you can simply start calling shots." He bit, voice already hoarse from yelling, but with no less poison. "You think I enjoy waiting around for whatever order comes next? That I enjoy you waltzing around my home, eating my food, whining that I'm not doing enough for you? After all the wrath you’ve wrought - after all the death and the destruction - you’re still so fucking entitled to assume that I’d throw aside my loyalty to the Father. All just because you’re here, and not even by fucking choice.”

Cora swallowed, calming the nerves that egged her on to snap back at him. "I didn't - I don't - "

After a moment, the hostility thinned. John's shoulders sagged.

"I know it's not optimal. It might not seem like it, but we're lucky. Things could be a lot worse for both of us, but on Joseph's order, they're not. It's his wisdom that made you being here even possible. So yes; the plan right now is that we sit and wait."

John turned toward her, then. He looked positively miserable.

“What happened last night…can’t happen again.” He explained. “It doesn’t matter that you’re here now. I’m the Baptist. Joseph is my brother. There’s nothing he doesn’t know, and there’s nothing he won’t find out. We need to do everything we can to stay on his good side.”

He did have a point. As much as she wanted John to be the last of her enemies, he was only one of three, and likely the lowest ranked of the Project's leaders. Pushing John to defy a higher power was unwise.

Her job was done, anyway. There was no more need to pursue him. Curiosity didn't matter. Want didn't matter. No meant no.

“Okay.” The Deputy croaked finally, nodding.

John raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” She attempted a smile. "Water under the bridge."

He returned the expression. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Great.”

“Cool.”

They both stood still, watching each other for a long moment.

Then Cora’s heart sank, and she felt herself detach from the counter. John did the same, marching toward her while she advanced on him with equal urgency.

Her fingers found the front of his shirt just as his found her face, and his mouth was on hers in a heartbeat. For all her rationalisations, the blonde reciprocated immediately, clutching him closer, humming into his kiss with a pitch she’d normally find mortifying.

“I’m sorry.” John breathed, hardly breaking away long enough to put the words together before he was kissing her again. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cora nodded, barely able to formulate a response against him. Every word she reached for melted on her tongue, completely enraptured by the heat of his mouth and his desperate hands not knowing whether they wanted to grip at her hips or keep cradling her jaw.

She didn’t even know she’d been walked backward until she felt the cold countertop hit the small of her back, and then - much more pleasantly - the warmth of John’s body pressing against her front. She gasped, winding a hand into his damp hair and slipping beneath his shirt with the other, pawing at whatever skin she could access and drawing another one of those pitiful sounds she’d pulled from him last night.

“Wasn’t - ah, fuck,” the Deputy choked, not anticipating the Baptist’s impatience when he dipped his head to kiss her neck, arms coiling tight around her waist, “Wasn’t a mistake.”

"Fuck no." John moaned against her throat, tongue barely darting out to taste her skin. “Won’t hit me this time?”

“Not this time.”

He pulled back then, leaving a half inch of aching dead space between them. Swallowing back a pant and looking at her directly. Like he was weighing up every possible pro and con about this scenario. Cora stilled, trading hesitation with the man, sobering for all but a few fearful seconds.

“If you don’t-”

“Don’t.” John breathed. “Just let me commit this to memory.”

“I mean it.”

“Deputy, you have no idea - how many times I’ve -...how much damage this could do."

Cora shifted under his gaze, searching impatiently to find which direction his resolve would fall. "I can keep a secret."

Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, breaking through apprehension.

“You want this.” She murmured.

“God, yes.”

He kissed her deeply, holding her steady through the shiver sent through her as his tongue slid across her bottom lip. Then, as soon as it felt like they were picking back up where they’d left off, he pulled back again. The grin he flashed at her frustration pulled a little noise of protest out of the blonde, and when she chased his mouth, he held her still.

“For the sake of being on the same page,” He began, “you do, too, right?.”

What a ridiculous assertion. What kind of answer was he hoping to gain from that? He already had her consent; did he really need the pride of knowing how badly she wanted this too? It wasn’t even something she’d actively considered, anyway. She’d have to think about-

“Yeah.” Cora breathed, ragged. “Yes.”

John settled into a more comfortable smile, and while the eye contact wasn’t something she could uphold for long, Cora mirrored the expression.

Then, a sigh rolled out of the Baptist. “Thank fucking Christ.”

She didn’t have time to chuckle at that.

His mouth was back on her in a instant.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“What’d I tell you?” Jess hissed, looking Sharky up and down while she waded toward him through torn up asphalt and cement debris. “What’d I tell you about making a fucking idiot of yourself?”

Sharky traded a look with Hurk at that. The man was nearly unrecognizable from all the dust clinging to him.

“I thought we did pretty good.” The arsonist defended.

“The town’s half blown-up, dipshit.”

“We did real good.” Hurk weighed in.

He wasn’t wrong. They didn’t even kill nobody they weren’t supposed to. There’d been bumps in the road, sure, but all in all, things hadn’t been a total disaster. Once you translated that into the kind of situation they were in, total disaster was actually kind of...well, awesome. Especially once the Cougars had arrived.

Sharky hadn’t heard word from over East since they’d left, but things must’ve been mighty fucking boring up there at the County Jail for a whole fucking convoy to come charging through town.

He’d never seen so many baseball jerseys in one place, let alone jerseys toting assault rifles.

There wasn’t any chasing leftover Peggies out of town once they’d shown up. It was a purge so quick and so direct that the blonde understood a little better why Shorty had been so pissed about not getting the extra help earlier.

Everyone had found their way back to each other pretty quick once the chaos had died down. As luck would have it, Kim had been walking Boomer when Eden’s Gate had arrived. She’d managed to get a couple of the general store clerks to safety and found a cattle shed to wait out the fight about a mile up the road.

It might’ve been the adrenaline getting him going, but Sharky could’ve sworn her tits were even bigger than yesterday.

Grace and Mary May reunited quick, but disappointingly did not start making out. Instead, they helped Kim cart Nick and Pastor Jerome off to Dr. Lindsey.

After they’d rounded up any remaining hostages, the team made their way back to Sharky as the stand-in replacement for the Deputy. That part didn’t surprise him. He was best mate, after all...after the dog, at least. The part that did surprise him was that the Cougars seemed to do that same.

Tracey surveyed the wreckage on her way toward the group with Sheriff Whitehorse and that tight-lipped Marshal in-tow.

“Jerome says Stammos got carted out with John’s people.” The woman announced. “They took the road down to the airport.”

“Then unless they’re plannin’ on looping back around, they’re probably headed to the ranch.” Adelaide replied.

“Probably a smart move after last time.” Hurk added.

The Sheriff inclined his head, incredulous. “Last time?”

“Long story.”

Sharky watched the disappointment pass over Whitehorse’s face. Must’ve felt shitty; losing all of his employees to the cult.

“I tried chasin’ ‘em down, Sheriff.” He said.

“And given how you’re dressed, Boshaw, it’s no surprise they were so quick to leave.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

“So what’s the plan?” Jess asked.

Tracey was already turning back around, headed for the truck she’d arrived in. “We keep liberating.” She answered. “Stammos called us to take back the valley, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“John’s ranch is almost the Southernmost point before the border.” Whitehorse elaborated. “If we do everything right, he won’t have many friends left to help him cross it once he gets word of us coming.”

“Sounds like the same plan as last time.” Adelaide commented.

“No stone unturned.” He affirmed. “Same as last time. Take care of John the same way we took care of Faith and bring our girls home.”

The Marshal, however, didn’t look as happy about that option. Dude always hated taking the long way around. “And what if John’s taken care of your Deputy before we get there?”

Sharky exchanged a look with the others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John’s fingers tangled in Cora's hair, hurriedly tugging out the damp tie and wincing when a caught snag caused the Deputy to hiss. “Sorry. Sorry.” He muttered, breathless.

“You’re - you’re certain this is okay.” She huffed against him. If there was any acknowledgement of the apology on her part, it was only in how she clawed at his vest, dragging his mouth back to hers.

“Not at all.”

“What about your -” A gasp briefly did the trick of silencing her, but then: “What about your brothers-”

“Please don’t mention my brothers right now.” John whined.

Cora eyed him. “Door’s locked?”

John stifled a chuckle at that. “No, why would it be?”

Cora eyed him dangerously.

“I’m kidding." He defended. "What, you think I let people walk in and out of here unannounced?"

“Fucking prick.”

“Obviously, I’m kidding. You’re a-aaah…” His retort dwindled when the blonde’s hands slid down his front, stopping short of the hem of his vest and creeping back up to his collar again. He pulled back to glare. “A captive.”

“And you’re sensitive.” She replied, simply.

“7 years is a long time.” John’s own hands fell from her hair, slipping down her sides until she couldn’t feel them anymore. “Not sure how much I can...handle.” That last phrase came cautiously. Awkwardly.

The blonde’s fingers traced back down while she listened, more quizzical than apprehensive at the warning.

To her, that sounded more like a challenge.

"What." John grunted at the smirk that played on her lips.

"Just the audacity of you asking for mercy."

A shiver worked its way out of him when she went lower, ghosting over his hips and then back up again. Deliberately avoiding the ever-insistent graze of an erection against her stomach, sporadically tensing against denim confinement whenever her hands got close. Every reminder of it sending a fresh wave of heat through her.

“Seriously-”

“Mr. Seed, either we carry on like this, or you fuck me. Right now.” The Deputy spoke low, watching the Baptist’s pupils dilate more with each word. “Either way, we’ll find out how much you can handle, but 3 years is also a long time. I’d hate for only one of us to break a streak.”

John stared, dumbfounded.

Then, his hands reappeared, tugging around her waist, wrenching her up and onto the countertop. Her wasted no time pushing her knees apart, drawing near enough between her legs that she could reach for his belt, but not close enough that she could find the friction she was looking for. His fingers pawed her thighs, then gripped hard when her fingertips ghosted over the bulge that impatiently jutted between them.

“Ah. Shit.” He shuddered, folding down to balance his forehead in the crook of her neck, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him standing. Cora found that she liked the idea of that. Ten times the amount of experience she had, and yet here he was, barely functional.

She pressed her palm against him, content with the hitch in his breath and the little jerk of his hips. A responding, dulled twitch pressed back. Through the obstruction of clothing, it was impossible to get a sense of him, but biology didn’t discriminate. She wanted him in her.

“Doing good.” Cora murmured against John’s temple, running her fingers through his hair in reassurance while his dug into her thighs in a vice grip.

“So good.” He choked when she slowly began to move back and forth. “So - so good. Feels - ah, fuck - let me -“

Maybe a little too quickly, Cora pulled herself closer to the edge of the counter, tugging John’s unbandaged hand further up her thigh and hoping he’d get the message while she busied herself with his belt.

She knew his smirk too well to mistake it for anything else when she felt him hum against her throat.

John straightened, pulling Cora’s attention back up to him. Lo and behold, he was looking as arrogant as ever; as if he hadn’t just been whining at her mercy. “Deputy, have a little patience.”

“After all that ranting about giving, you sure are selfish.”

“Oh, so you were listening.” He grinned, tracing a thumb back and forth over the junction of her hip. “Tell me, what happened to my little ranger who loved to play by the rules?”

“Hypocrite.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Hurry up.”

John flinched when Cora’s hand shoved beneath his still-fastened pants, palming him through his underwear. He managed to hold strong, though, even if his voice near-cracked. “Or what?”

“Or John Seed’s gonna come in his pants.”

Again, he twitched in her grasp, but his movement remained torturously slow.

Realisation hit the Deputy at his resistance.

He was getting a kick out of this.

He was testing her.

“How crazy does it drive you, not having total, complete control?" He asked. His thumb reached the seam of her pants, almost too light to feel. She still throbbed all the same.

"You're an asshole." Cora growled.

“You know, I always suspected you got off on that.”

“Evidence suggests it might be the other way around.”

“Answer me, Deputy.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll do just that if you don’t cooperate.” John tutted at her frustrated ineptitude at deciphering his belt buckle. “Are you really in a position to be calling the shots?”

Cora stopped to consider that, locking to his gaze with a scowl. Why did every interaction with him have to feel like a chess game?

Fine.

Not breaking eye contact, Cora simply pulled her sweater over her head in response.

John’s gaze broke immediately. He tried to recover, but the damage was done. There was no picking his composure back up after the attitude slid from his face and left him with nothing but prying eyes and a slackened jaw.

“Well,” He croaked, “when you put it that way…”

“Help me with this.” Cora urged, still tugging at his belt. He acquiesced immediately, although with the two of them hastily fumbling with the same mechanism, the extra help wasn’t much better. John swore under his breath, pulling out of Cora’s reach while she clicked her tongue. “Does that thing double as a chastity belt?”

“It’s not my fault we have a single functional hand between us.”

“You stabbed me first.”

“For God’s sake - fuck - got it.” John sighed, finally unbuckling the monstrosity, rushing back to the blonde’s reach. She dealt with her own belt while he hurried with his jeans, tattooed fingers shaking. The moment he’d succeeded, his hands flew to her waist, revering bare skin and savouring her impatience for him to touch her where she wanted to be touched.

She would have cussed him out, had his teeth not grazed her lip, refreshing the taste of him with his tongue slipping into her mouth - right as his left hand wriggled it way into her pants and pressed.

Cora saw white for a second. Untouched nerves awakening in a frenzy that had her gasping into that bastard’s mouth. Jesus, she could feel the grin on his face.

“Hm. Hypocrite.” Came the reminder, followed by a strangled noise when her fingers enclosed around his cock; separated still by underwear, but gripping him all the same. His body shoved against her, crushing their arms between them in the attempt to find his way closer - to find more. “Ah - shit. Careful-”

A knock from beyond the kitchen sent a collective jolt through both of them, and John’s head whipped around in a panic.

“W-...what is it?!” He called, voice cracking.

“John, have you got a minute?” A deeper voice Cora didn’t recognise responded from outside.

“Doubt I’ve got more than ten seconds.” The Baptist hissed to himself. “I recall saying emergencies only! Ask yourself - is this something I need to find John for, or can I find my own way?”

Christ. He spoke to his followers the same way she spoke to hers.

“O-okay. Sorry.”

John didn’t reply. He simply turned his attention straight back to Cora, stroking up and down along the material of her underwear. His cock twitched impatiently in her hand, at odds with his leisurely pace. “You’re soaked through.” He taunted, but the tremor in his voice delivered it as a revelation.

Cora’s brow furrowed. She stroked once, sweeping her thumb over the head of him. “Speak for yourself, Baptist.”

A grunt sounded from the man. His hands moved quickly, yanking her to the edge of the counter and gripping at her pants. Tugging the material down and off her legs while he dropped to his knees on the floorboards. The Deputy’s initial instinct to draw herself together and hide from scrutiny was jarred by the way the Baptist gaped between her legs. Like closing them would be some cruel disservice to him. So, she let him stare. Held still while he drew close, dotting a kiss to her knee and shivering when his beard skimmed her inner thigh.

“Thank you for wearing white.” John murmured, stroking a careful thumb over the cotton, leaving only aching want in his wake.

“That a religious thing?” She tried not to croak, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in this circumstance. Just...thought about it.”

“Oh. You just - casually speculated on the colour of my underwear.”

“Something like that.” He continued the action. Back and forth. Up and down. Trying to find the same spot as earlier. For all his enthusiasm, however, he was still out of practice and just as impatient as she was. He’d draw close, but any hitch in her breath pulled his gaze up to her face, searching for praise and losing his place in the process.

When his mouth suddenly descended upon her, though, fingers giving up their place to yank the material to the side and grant him direct access, the Deputy found herself uncomfortably on the complete other end of the spectrum. From not enough, to way, way too much. A squeak shot out of Cora, and her legs clamped shut on John’s skull just as her fingers gripped his hair in an attempt to pry him away from her. Both actions earned a separate “Ow,” from the man.

John pouted up at her. “What?”

“Stand up.” “I like where I am right now.” He protested. “You’re not shy, are you? I want to-”

Cora tugged at him anyway. “I don’t want you to practice on me. I want you to fuck me.”

John blinked. “Okay - not shy.” He pulled himself back to a stand, averting his gaze while she guided his hips back between her legs. “I’m - er - it’s just…-”

He bit back a resigned curse when her fingers circled his erection once again, passing over the noticeable slick of precum on strained cotton.

“Just what?”

“I'd like you to - enjoy it." The admission came. "And I’m not going to last.”

“Good. I'll enjoy that just fine.” Cora replied, earning a questioning look. “Won’t look so smug anymore when you’re coming in record time.”

John's expression darkened at the challenge, but his hands shook as they swatted her away, struggling to manoeuvre the fly of his underwear into just the right position.

Anger was still the quickest way to get through to him.

“Just you wait." He warned. "I’ll-“

She cut him off with a kiss, pulling his hips against her, and his threats evaporated. They were pressed too close for her to see, but his cock grazed the hem of her underwear, finally pulled free. Then, John’s fingers hooked around the material, pulling it to one side.

The Baptist held her gaze, brow upturned like he was worried.

Was he nervous?

“Ready?” He asked.

He looked...kind of pretty like this. Pupils blown. Lips a little swollen. Hair all messed up. Eye-contact wasn't so uncomfortable when he looked this wrecked.

She nodded. "Yeah." The pitch of his gasp matched hers when the head of him slid with dangerous ease along the wetness of her cunt. All she could focus on was the heat of him. The blunt press, drawing closer and closer to her entrance until he was finally lined up. The ache of resisting muscles and relieved nerve-endings when he pushed forward, torturously slow, concentration and bliss fighting for equal real estate on his face, and okay, he was exceptionally pretty like this.

A tiny little 'fuck' crept out of John when Cora sighed at the feeling, insistently encouraging, tugging. She needed more. It wasn't fair. Didn't fucking matter how long for; she just needed to feel him. All of him.

Then, when he was barely two inches in, another knock at the door pulled her out of her stupor.

“John? I spoke to Andy. He says it’s an emergency.”

John froze. Then, his eyes scrunched shut in a long-suffering grimace, and once again, his forehead dropped to Cora’s shoulder. Frustration radiated from him, infecting her within moments.

"Has he been out there the whole time?" She grunted.

"Christ." The Baptist sounded almost amused at that. He pulled back to offer a half-smile.

He had to investigate.

Cora, meanwhile, had no patience for his imminent departure. Her legs locked against his hips, but he was gently prying himself away already, muttering repeated, gasped apologies at her protests.

“I’ll be right there!” He called back, already resetting his belt. “Give me a minute.”

“Are you kidding?” Cora hissed, sliding down from the counter.

“I’ll be 30 seconds. I swear. Then we can - we can go upstairs, and we can stay there. Emergency or not.” John assured her, punctuating his words with kisses wherever he could land them while she struggled to multitask between receiving and yanking her pants back on. Then, he pulled away completely, stumbling out of the kitchen on visibly shaky legs.

Cora took a moment to silently lament before heading back out into the foyer, buckling her belt while she surveyed the space in an attempt to distract herself from impotent fucking rage.

John murmured away with someone outside, half-visible through the gap he’d left in the door. His arms had crossed, but with his back to her, she couldn’t discern his mood any further.

Nonetheless, her concern grew, and when the man said his goodbyes with a nod and entered the building once more, the Deputy found it had good reason to.

John passed through the room, not sparing her a glance. He snatched the radio he’d abandoned on the coffee table, but to her fleeting relief, simply clipped it onto his belt and moved on.

He’d turned pale.

“Hey.” Cora frowned, following him to the trophy cabinet where he began rifling through memorabilia. “What’s going on?”

“We have to leave.” He muttered, unboxing a small case. It rattled as he shook the content into his hand. 38 Specials, most making it to his back pocket, some clinking to the floor, forgotten when he moved on to withdraw his revolver and tucked it into the back of his pants. “Now.”

John continued hurrying about with Cora hot on his heels, unable to really do anything but watch him build a collection of valuables on the dining table. His coat. His keys. A particularly raggedy old bible. He made some effort to conceal the zip-lock bag he pulled from behind the décor on the mantle; definitely the source of the odour that permeated the foyer.

They traded a look - critical on Cora’s part, and John rolled his jaw while he shoved it out of sight, irritated. Perhaps embarrassed.

“Did you know?” He huffed.

“Mr. Seed, I studied in Colorado. I know what a half-bag looks like.”

“Did you know about the Cougars?” John’s voice hardened. “According to the Chosen, there’s one hell of a convoy inbound from the North. Did you know?”

Oh.

Fuck.

“Oh. Fuck.” Cora noted, still too dazed to even bother lying. “I called them in.”

They actually came?

“Wonderful.” John had stopped to run a hand through his hair. “Truly. Thank you.”

“Well sure, but I don’t see what good they’re gonna do you. They’re probably here to-”

“Sarcasm, Cora.”

“That makes more sense."

John started to pace, then, relenting. Dispersing his temper. He tugged the radio from his belt, holding it to his chin. “Joseph, for God’s sake, come in.”

Half a minute passed by. The little curses under John’s breath became more punctuated until his patience thinned. He angled the dial, and then stopped. Examining the station he’d been using, incredulous.

His gaze flickered to her for a split-second, eyes narrowing, and Cora’s stomach coiled.

Shit.

He knew.

She winced while the Baptist strode past her, anticipating his approach to the phone, investigating an absent dial tone and her now-obvious tampering. He turned the machine over, holding up the ruined cord for her to see.

"Your handiwork, Deputy?" The smile that spread over his face was sharp as ever. The mask was back on.

Perhaps this hadn't been her best plan.

She should've let him go down on her when she had the chance.

#dont read these tags until after you've read the chapter ok PROMISE!!#have you finished the chapter yet-#have i filled enough space yet #PSYCH yall thought either of them deserved to get laid yet?#come back for quiet earth part 3: john's day gets exponentially worse aka the asswhoopin #john seed #john seed x female deputy #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfic #cora stammos

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years ago

Text

Don’t miss the Yule Ball

Remus is worrying his next move after how Sirius has cried in his arms, and the ball is approaching. He doesn’t know what to do now.

Tags: Post-Incident with Severus Snape, Angst with Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Trust Issues.

Chapter 2

If there was anything to stop the girls from giving hopeful stares at Sirius, Remus would have done it. He was stuffing his porridge—not because he wanted to eat it for his breakfast—like he needed to, otherwise the world was going to be on fire. He scanned the girls around the Great Hall, murmuring ‘Sirius Black’, whipping their heads in all of the directions to find their target.

However, the target was sound asleep in his dorm because Remus came down quite earlier since he couldn’t sleep at night after witnessing Sirius’ awful sobbing. He had looked so vulnerable, and hopeless. Remus couldn’t stop himself from playing last night’s memory in his head, and how he had to keep a poker face while his insides were clenching. Sirius’ sobs had been hurting him like a physical pain since the night. He hadn’t known the best way to comfort him, so he had held him in his arms as tight as it was possible.

“Hey Remus!” He started a little to find Lily Evans smiling at him.

“Oh hi, Lils.” He smiled back, “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just thinking about tomorrow.” Her face was dissolving into something unreadable.

“The Yule Ball?” She nodded with a serious look, “You don’t have a date?” And she shook her head.

“Hey, Lils,” Remus squinted to look into her pained emerald eyes, “It’s okay. I also don’t have one. And I think it’s perfect! We can go together! It wouldn’t be weird at all.” He beamed up at her but soon his smile turned into frown because Lily was not at all thrilled with the idea.

“It’s not like I haven’t been asked, you know…” She began to play with her fruit salad.

“Who asked you?”

“James.” She smiled weakly. Remus thought for a second that his ears were deceiving him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Thatswhy…” She trailed off with a disappointed look, but he held her by her wrist.

“No, no, no. I just—you mean James? James Potter? My best friend James Potter?”

“No, my uncle James Potter.” She rolled her eyes, “Wait—I thought Sirius was James’ best friend?”

“Oh yeah, whatever. But you mean you want to go with him?”

“Is it really that weird, Remmy?” Remus melted on that look of hers. She so wanted to go with James, and at the same time James was going get lucky. He smiled genuinely at her.

“Lily, it is not at all weird. It’s like the opposite of weird.” Her smile stretched into a real one as she launched herself into his arms.

“God, Remus Lupin, your approval is all I needed. You’ll be the death of me.” They both laughed and held each other tighter.

And then, Remus’ eyes found Sirius walking stiffly to the table, alone. His eyes had bags under them, his hair were disheveled, as he slipped into the seat far away from Remus and Lily’s. Remus felt his stomach twist, and he untangled himself from Lily. She looked skeptically at him. By few eye contacts, he was able to communicate with her that he was worried about Sirius. She knew everything, including the fact he was a werewolf, the fact how he always had a crush on Sirius, and then fell in love with him, and the fact how Marauders fell apart because of the incident with Snape, and also the fact that even after forgiving Sirius, things were not going back to normal.

“Remus, it’s just that you guys stayed away from him for months, and things cannot just slip in the same old times in few days. It will take time.” She whispered to him.

“It’s not just that, Lily. He’s hurting. Like he is sick or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“He stopped in the middle of the crowd when we were heading back to the Tower after dinner. He was breathing hard. He was standing by the support of the railing of the staircase. And then I tried mending things with him, he cried—“ Remus felt like his heart was falling, “—like a lot, Lily.”

“Oh poor Sirius,” She said, eyeing Sirius sitting and staring at his breakfast, “Do you think he was having a panic attack or something?”

“Then why didn’t he tell me? Of all people, huh? He knows that I have a history with panic attacks. I know how to help!” Remus realized he was speaking louder.

“Honey, he already feel indebted after what he—I mean whatever happened between you two, maybe he didn’t want you to feel responsible for this…and you know he doesn’t take pity…”

“He is Sirius Black. He likes attention.” Remus instantly regretted his words.

“You and I, both know that’s only partly true.” Then they fell silent. Remus wanted to stand up and go straight to Sirius to hold him, kiss his head and tell him that everything was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. But then there was this fear, buried in the depth of his heart. He was scared, and the truth was that this fear was tearing them apart.

“Okay,” Lily sighed, looking very concerned, “What do you want?”

“Does that matter?”

“Of course, it matters! He loves you.”

“No, I don’t think so…”

“What!?” She gaped as if she had caught him saying a slur to her, “How can you say that? Sure, he did a mistake but that doesn’t justify the fact that he doesn’t love you anymore. Sirius is not like that!”

“I don’t know…I just I think he is better off without me, I guess? I just don’t want all of this for him. It’s too chaotic. He should move on, and just be my friend.”

“Remus,” She waited until our eyes were locked with each other, “I asked you what you want?”

Remus was out of words, suddenly.

Who said that he didn’t crave Sirius Black? Who said that he didn’t love him? Who said that he didn’t want him? He did. In fact, a lot. He wasn’t sure if he should be wanting him. Truth to be told, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to deal with their fierce relationship all over again.

Sirius was like fire, and Remus was less likely to be water all the time. He had tried shaping himself into one but sometimes it had been hard, because Sirius had been all over him. While they had been dating, Remus had lessened his reading in replacement to spend more time with him—not that he hadn’t enjoyed their time together but it had made him feel rusty. Sirius had always tried to sway him away from his studies. He had had the upper hand in their arguments because Remus had known that Sirius’ anger lasted hardly five minutes and then it dissipated into thin air, so he had always let him say mean things to him, not matter how bitter they had been to him. He’d gulp down everything, but the incident with Snape had not been worth swallowing down. Now that Remus was not with Sirius anymore, there were loads of time for him to study, read, be himself, and yet he was still feeling very useless.

No matter how many reasons Remus could list down to prove the disadvantages of being in relationship with Sirius, the opposite side of the list never failed to outweigh all of those drawbacks, and that was: He was unconditionally in love with him. And despite of everything, he was never going to stop loving him. And he knew that, but feelings also clouded decisions.

“We can only be friends,” He found Lily staring him with a resigned look, “I think I need to go.”

He stood up and walked out of the Great Hall because he felt suffocated. He loosened his tied to breathe properly, “How are you supposed to feel claustrophobic in the Great Hall?” He said under his breath because yes, that was a fun fact about Remus Lupin that he was a claustrophobic. It had taken him ages to get comfortable with physical interaction, and Sirius had been the one who had helped him.

Before he registered where he was walking to, he crashed into someone.

“Oh Merlin, I am sorry!” An unfamiliar female’s voice, “I am so, so sorry! Let me fix that for you.”

Remus didn’t even get the chance to know what needed fixing when his werewolf ears heard her whisper ‘Episkey’—

“OW!” Remus held his nose instinctively, and he found his fingers were soaking with blood.

“Scourgify.” She murmured that too, and his blood was gone. Remus finally focused his vision to find a brunette girl staring at him with big grey eyes—so like Sirius’, her yellow and black tie was there. Hufflepuff. He smiled at her. She had a beautiful smile, but not as dazzling as Sirius’.

“Hi, I’m Catherina Johnson, fifth year.” She held out her hand, and Remus took it.

“Nice to meet you, Catherina. I’m Remus Lupin, sixth year.”

“Oh, I know who you are,“ She smirked at him, “The smart one, and also the one every girl trying to steal for tomorrow.”

“Ha-ha,” Remus didn’t like taking compliments because he didn’t believe in them, “You must be mistaking me with Sirius Black.”

“Oh him, too! But hey Black is never a long-term material. We girls like guys like you, sweet and loyal…”

Remus felt so reminiscent. The girl was reminding him of Sirius. A lot. He huffed out a sarcastic guffaw.

“Looks like bumping into me was not a total coincident, was it?”

“Like I said, the smart one…” Catherina was an attractive girl, and cunning too, and Remus couldn’t say he didn’t her, “So, is that a yes then?” She was smiling, and Remus thought it was for the best.

“Yes, indeed.” He replied back.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3 is coming soon!

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thedragonnerd · 4 years ago

Text

we forgive ourselves last

‘We’re not going to give her a choice,’ she says, and the underlying threat is clear enough to Namaari that her blood runs cold.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘That’s no longer your concern, my love,’ Ma rests a hand on her shoulder, fully in the role of Chief now. ‘You’ve done enough.’

The finality of her words is obvious, but as Namaari watches her walk away, all she can think is: maybe I’ve done too little.

Read on ao3, or under the cut!

Namaari doesn’t allow the royal army to slow down for the entire ride from Spine back to Fang, pushing them through the night. Her mind remains in turmoil over what she has just witnessed, the logical side of her in disbelief over the fact she saw a genuine dragon, alive and in the flesh, roaring so loudly that her battle-hardened warriors staggered back in fear. The magical fog still lingers in the distance, obscuring the pathway that lies behind them.

Deep in her heart however, she knows it to be true. She knows that it was Sisudatu herself who stood before her, that it was Sisudatu who stared directly into her eyes and through to her soul. Guilt has always been an unwelcome companion for Namaari, following her through life and scratching at her brain whenever she sees a new face turned to stone. It now rears its ugly head again, as she fears what Sisu saw within.

She arrives to the Fang Palace several moments before the rest of her warriors, slipping down from her serlot’s back and striding ahead even as she hears the others come clattering to a halt behind her.

‘Mother! We need to talk!’ Namaari calls out, bowing her head and raising her hands in the appropriate gesture of respect; her distraction and growing enthusiasm over seeing Sisu making her forget to say “Chief Virana” in front of Fang citizens.

Her mother has been entertaining small children, and they all look to Namaari in undisguised delight.

‘It’s Princess Namaari!’ she hears a small voice exclaim, and then they are bowing and crowding around her even as her mother is gently ushering them away.

‘Alright, alright…now run along, kittens,’ her mother commands. Namaari allows herself a moment to wave and smile at them before her attention is directed straight back on topic with her mother’s next words. ‘I have to speak with the Princess.’

‘Mother, you won’t believe what I saw,’ she says, the excitement creeping into her voice at last. If Sisu really has returned, she would be able to save everyone, to fix what has been broken for so many years. And maybe, just maybe, the era of dragons could exist again. The child-like wonder that she always feels when she reflects on dragons for too long is beginning to awaken inside her.

‘You saw a dragon,’ Ma says, and the excitement inside Namaari dies at once in the face of her mother’s disapproval. ‘General Atitaya informed me that you’d be returning home without the gem pieces.’

The rebuke is clear.

‘It was Sisu,’ Namaari tries, desperate for her to understand. ‘She can fix what we broke – she can bring everyone back.’

We can undo my mistakes, and maybe I can be free of this guilt, she thinks, but dares not say out loud.

‘And that’s what scares me!’ Ma says, banging her staff on the ground. The Dragon Gem piece glitters in the sunlight. ‘When everyone comes back, who do you think they’ll come for? You forget; the other lands blame us for what’s happened.’

‘But we…We never meant for anyone to get hurt,’ Namaari says, and yet the reasoning sounds weak to her own ears. The image of the different leaders fighting over the Dragon Gem springs unbidden into her mind, as does Raya’s look of devastation as it smashed to the floor. Another wave of guilt hits her, and she is reminded of Sisu’s unspoken judgement.

‘Yes, but if we had the dragon and the Gem pieces, we would be forgiven. We could save the world,’ Ma continues. ‘But more importantly, our people would remain safe.’

It sounds tempting, so tempting. If they had Sisu and the completed Dragon Gem, they could save all the lands and be heroes. No more would Namaari have to see stone people in her nightmares, no more would she have to tell another Fang family that their loved one has been caught by the Druun on one of their expeditions. Perhaps even Raya could forgive her, in time. And yet…

‘But Raya isn’t just going to give Sisu to us,’ Namaari argues, and her mother sighs deeply.

‘We’re not going to give her a choice,’ she says in response, and the underlying threat is clear enough to Namaari that her blood runs cold.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘That’s no longer your concern, my love,’ Ma rests a hand on her shoulder, fully in the role of Chief now. ‘You’ve done enough.’

The finality of her words is obvious, but as Namaari watches her walk away, all she can think is: maybe I’ve done too little.

Later, Namaari sits on her bed and broods. Her heart is torn in two, and she cannot decide which path to take. She is desperate to save her people, first and foremost, and yet the best route to achieve that is unclear.

On one hand, her mother’s concern has awoken the same fears inside her. Even before the breaking of the Gem, Fang was perceived as a harsh land of assassins and warriors, cutthroat in business and too proud to interact much with the other lands. It’s never mattered that all the leaders had a hand in the destruction of the Gem. Everyone remembers the ‘greed’ of Fang in targeting what they thought was Heart’s source of prosperity, and the rest has slipped from people’s minds. Now, they are pariahs, a land which has survived better than most during the Druun reign due to its willingness to stand alone and close its doors as much as possible. If they don’t have direct involvement in saving the world, then when everyone returns, they could be pushed aside even more. Trade could cease to exist, and along with that comes a risk of famine and poverty. Namaari never wants her people to see those dark times again.

On the other hand, Namaari fears what her mother has in plan for Raya. She knows the other girl will never back down from a fight, and even less so if she has Sisu, the other Gem pieces, and clearly some sort of plan.

At the end of the day, she knows Raya is coming for her – or at least for Fang. There is one Gem piece left, and it sits within her mother’s staff. At the same time, Raya could be walking into what could end up being a deadly trap.

For the last six years, Namaari has lived with the guilt of what she has done to Raya, in a more deeply personal sense than her responsibility for the rest of the world. She isn’t sure she could survive being to blame for even more tragedy to befall Raya.

Just then, an animal screech comes from outside her window. Whirling around, she sees a small package dropped onto the windowsill, along with a note, although the messenger themselves is nowhere in sight, no matter how much she peers around.

She unfurls the note first, but it is little more than a crude map, with a small ‘x’ marking a spot on the riverbank across from the Palace. She can already guess who it is from, but unwrapping the package to reveal her childhood pendant confirms her suspicions.

She stands by the window, her mind at last resolved.

Dawn is breaking by the time she reaches the place at the riverbank marked out by Raya, but the others are not yet there. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and her hand is clammy as it clutches the piece of Dragon Gem she has stolen from her mother’s staff.

The fact that her mother lies there asleep and unprotected weighs heavily, but she is determined to see this through. If they are successful, if Sisu can really bring back everyone, then they will never have to worry about the Druun again, and her betrayal can be forgiven – or so she hopes.

She holds the Dragon pendant in her other hand, reminding her why she has really come. It keeps her grounded whenever she feels the desire to bolt back to the Palace and agree to her mother’s plan instead.

‘I see you got my gift,’ a soft voice breaks through her thoughts. It is strange not to go directly for a weapon, but Namaari allows herself to appreciate the sight of Raya standing in front of her with a small smile on her face instead. It’s been so long since they last had a conversation without it ending in a fight, and even longer still since Raya looked at her with any sort of a welcoming expression.

‘I never thought I’d see this again,’ she feels herself say, and her own voice sounds far, far away. Raya shrugs a shoulder awkwardly.

‘Well, uh…I tried to take good care of it,’ she says. ‘You’re not the only dragon nerd here.’

They gaze at each other for a moment, and Namaari emits a slight chuckle, before becoming serious. The time is now or never – no going back once she has taken this next step.

She places the Gem piece on the ground, and accepts her fate. Raya nods, an understanding passing between them, and then her concentration is broken by the arrival of none other than Sisudatu herself.

Namaari bends low into a bow, raising her hands in respect. The awe of seeing a dragon in front of her for a second time is not lessened in any way, and as she straightens up, Sisu smiles back at her. She can’t help but tuck her hair behind her ear self-consciously, hoping this time that Sisu will see something better in her than before, will see that she is trying to atone for her mistakes.

‘The final piece,’ she hears Sisu say, and then Raya is reaching down to open her bag.

‘Raya,’ Namaari finds her voice again. ‘Raya, I came her to warn you also. My mother-’

‘Is very proud of her daughter,’ her mother announces, and the sound of many crossbows being loaded rings out in the clearing. A large group of Fang warriors emerge from the forest, dragging Raya’s companions with them, Chief Virana leading the way. Namaari’s breath catches in her throat.

‘I must thank you, Morning Mist, for bringing us straight to the Dragon Gem and to Sisu herself.’

‘You tricked us?’ Raya asks, her voice shaking. It is a flashback to six years ago – Raya looking upon Namaari with utter betrayal and disgust.

‘No Raya, I-’ Namaari tries to choke out, but Raya turns away, two red blotches on her cheeks showing just how angry she feels.

‘Take the rest of the Gem pieces,’ her mother commands, and just as Namaari expected, Raya draws her sword immediately, stepping in front of Sisu.

‘If you want Sisu or the Gem pieces, you’ll have to go through me first,’ she calls out, her voice strong despite being outnumbered. The large man dressed in Spine clothing is already beginning to fight his captivity, and all at once there is chaos as the yelling starts and a brawl breaks out between Raya’s companions and some Fang warriors. The rest stay focused on Raya and Sisu, clearly reluctant to shoot towards the dragon but unsure how to carry out their Chief’s order.

Through all the shouting and fighting, a voice reaches out to Namaari.

‘I believe you,’ Sisu says, and the dragon is staring at her with a soft and open expression. ‘Namaari, I believe you came to help us.’

The tears rush unbidden to Namaari’s eyes, and she takes a shuddering breath at those words, barely able to believe what she has heard. Hope is blossoming from her chest, that she can help resolve this misunderstanding and endless cycle of mistrust.

And then Namaari watches it all happen as if in slow motion. General Atitaya’s crossbow raises slightly, wavering towards Sisu, and her finger twitches on the trigger. Raya notices in the same instance, striking out with her sword and knocking the soldier’s hand.

The crossbow swings back towards Raya, and there is a small click as the arrow breaks free, shooting straight and true towards its target. Namaari watches it aim directly for Raya’s heart, Sisu’s words still ringing in her mind.

And then she steps forward, and feels the arrow pierce her skin.

‘…maari? Namaari?’

Someone is calling her name.

She feels very cold through her entire body, except where there are two warm arms wrapped around her. It is difficult to open her eyes, and the darkness seems far more welcoming. She lets her mind drift slightly.

‘Namaari, wake up!’ The person is now shaking her shoulders, causing a pain to rip down her left side. It startles her into opening her eyes properly, where she has to blink away water droplets. Rain pours down around them, and when she shifts her head slightly, her cheek comes into contact with Raya’s chest.

‘Raya, the rain isn’t going to hold them back forever,’ Sisu’s voice calls from afar. ‘They’re gathering in number…I think they were attracted by the fighting.’

It takes a few moments for the meaning of the words to sink into Namaari’s brain, and when she focuses on something other than the pain, she can hear the unearthly howls above the rain. The druun are here.

‘Namaari, we have to get you to the doctor,’ Raya is saying, looking down at her with large, worried eyes and damp hair plastered to her skin. One of her hands is trembling slightly, as she raises it to Namaari’s face, and her fingers are smeared with blood.

She has never looked so pretty to Namaari before.

‘I can take her back to the Palace,’ Ma says, and she realises her mother is kneeling down on her other side, clutching her hand and disregarding the mud smeared across her white clothing. ‘Give me back a piece of the Gem so I can get us there!’

‘You won’t make it through the Druun,’ Raya snaps back. ‘Let me take her and Sisu…we’ll travel faster.’

Namaari lets the sound of their disagreement wash over her. The pain is becoming stronger now, and breathing is difficult. Even if they get her back to the palace, she is not sure there is anything to be done. She’s so tired.

But maybe that is the point, a voice whispers in her mind. It is the same voice that has plagued her nightmares all these last years. You were the one who broke the world. You were the one who brought this hatred and distrust to your people, to Raya. Maybe your ending can fix it.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she whispers through numb lips. Raya and her mother break off their argument to look down at her.

‘Morning Mist, you don’t have much time,’ Ma says, stroking her hair. Raya grunts in acknowledgement, and unwraps an arm from around Namaari’s shoulders to slide it under her legs. But before she can be lifted, Namaari raises a weak hand and knocks her back.

‘I’m not going anywhere until you put the Gem back together,’ she insists, trying to sound firm even as her strength is failing her. She isn’t sure that this will be enough, that their concern for her will be enough. But she plays the only card she has to left to play, and lays down her ultimatum anyway. ‘Save everyone, Raya. I believe in you.’

Raya loosens her grip slightly, clearly unsure what to do. Then suddenly, Sisu is there, dropping Fang’s piece of the Gem next to them.

‘You heard Namaari! Let’s fix this big ball of power, save the world, and then get our girl the medical attention she needs!’

Namaari feels herself being transferred gently from Raya’s arms to her mother’s lap, but the movement still makes her cry out in pain.

Raya glances her way once more, and nods in determination. She gathers the Gem pieces into her hands, slotting them together into a perfect orb once more. A bright glow seeps through her fingers, and the last thing Namaari sees before darkness takes her is Raya, lit with an ethereal blue light from the Dragon Gem.

When Namaari next awakens, she is in her own bed. The blankets are warm, her body is in considerably less pain, and Raya is curled up on the other side of her mattress.

Wait, what?

‘Raya?’ she croaks, her throat dry, but it is enough to disturb the sleeping figure, who sits upright with a start.

‘You’re awake? How are you feeling? I mean, I guess probably pretty bad considering you were shot by a crossbow,’ she rambles, a hand awkwardly patting her hair. Namaari laughs at her softly, and then can’t help but wince as the movement causes her wound to throb ominously. Raya leans over to hold a glass of water to her lips, and she manages to swallow a few mouthfuls.

‘Did it work?’ she has to know. She wants to see with her own eyes, but can tell she won’t be leaving this bed for a while. ‘Is your father back?’

Raya looks at her for a long moment.

‘Yes, it worked,’ she says finally, and a smile breaks out across her face. ‘Everyone has returned. Ba is in fact downstairs right now…I think him and your mother are trying to write a hundred trade deals at once. And he’s demanding a celebration for the return of Kumandra.’

Relief hits Namaari all at once, making her feel slightly dizzy and sick. She tries to subtly turn her head so Raya can’t see the tears in her eyes.

‘Of course, it would have also worked if we had waited until AFTER we got some binturi to the doctor,’ Raya adds suddenly, her voice taking on a disapproving tone. ‘Why did you insist we fix the Gem first? The doctors said another ten minutes, and maybe…’

She trails off, but Namaari understands the end of the sentence. Another ten minutes, and you might not have survived.

‘I wasn’t sure if I would make it anyway,’ she confesses, staring up at the ceiling rather than look Raya in the eyes. ‘And I wanted to make sure I made up for my mistakes before I died.’

Raya is quiet for a moment. Namaari can feel the bed shift slightly as she lays down next to her and rests her head back on a pillow.

‘It wasn’t just your mistake to atone for,’ Raya says eventually. It sounds like forgiveness. ‘I hope you’ll see that one day.’

Her hand slowly shuffles across the covers, and Namaari inhales slightly when she feels their fingers entwine.

They lie there together in silence, watching the sun rise on Kumandra through the window.

#rayaari #rayaari fic #raya and the last dragon #raya and namaari #ratld #raya #namaari #my writing #i always thought namaari went through with the crossbow scheme also because she was scared of her mother's ominous plan #and wanted to protect sisu and raya from said plan #and obviously wanted to protect her people too #here is an AU where she chooses to warn raya instead #but shit still goes down #we love drama #no beta we die like druuns against the dragon gem #also of course sisu wasn't judging namaari in spine #but namaari is an unreliable narrator #hope you enjoy!

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years ago

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queen of hearts // chapter nine

summary : y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

series masterlist + taglist

content warnings : murder, gunshots, death, sexual harassment, angst (lots of it)

a/n : reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

You did it.

Wow.

You got you and your baby out of that shithole and you're on the run. The news and the FBI plastered your face everywhere so of course you changed your appearance as best as you could. Can't really hide a 7 month baby bump though, can you? You make your way to an empty road and stick your thumb out to hitchhike. A woman with strawberry blonde hair stops, letting you into her worn out green truck.

"Thank you so much!" you exclaim, getting into the truck. Thump. Your heart could jump right out of your chest. All it takes is one headline, one picture and she'll turn you in.

"Make yourself comfy, sweetie," she gives you a warm smile. "I'm Maggie. Where you headed?"

"I'm Lucy," you lie. "Anywhere but here. As far as you can take me, please."

"What's got you running? If you don't mind me asking."

"Let's just say I got away from a very bad place." you whisper. It's not a lie.

Maggie nods sympathetically and goes to turn on the radio.

"No!" you clearly startle her, filling you with guilt. "I- I'm sorry, I'd just prefer silence right now."

"Don't worry about it, Lucy. I know what it's like to be in a bad situation, I know all too well." She says sadly. "I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, you just sit tight."

Maggie's words give you a sense of comfort, her kindness sets you slightly at ease. It'd fucking suck to have to kill her, you think. After what seems like few hours, you wake up to see her pumping gas into the truck. She enters the store, telling you she's been craving some licorice and she'll be right back. You're not heartless, you don't want to hurt this sweet woman. So, as anyone would do, you knock out the only other person around with one swift swing of a bat you found in Maggie's truck. Getting into the car, you hotwire it while the man you hit groans on the ground, bleeding. Red stains his shirt and your heart races. It's been a long time since you've done anything like this. Shit, shit, shit. You see Maggie at the cash register, paying. Lucky for you, the talkative woman gives you time by conversing with the cashier. Spark. Got it. Taking one last glance, you see Maggie drop her bag and gasp, whipping her head to look at you. There's a fucking TV in the gas station and guess who's face is on it? You back up the van and wince at the sound of the man's bones cracking paired with his agonized scream. Now or never. Hitting the pedal, you floor it.

You stop to breathe for a moment, parking outside of a shitty looking motel. The neon sign is broken so it reads Mot l. You open the trunk of the car you stole to look for anything useful. How lucky, you think. A small, silver handgun is tucked away underneath a plaid knit blanket. Where are the bullets? Must be in the front. Getting into the car and searching the glove compartment, you locate the ammo.

"Goddamn, if that isn't one hell of an ass." A gruff voice behind you whistles. Ignoring him, what he says next makes your heart burst into fear. Thump. "Be careful lovely lady. Heard there's a killer running around. I'll keep you safe though." You feel a hand make its way onto your back slowly and you turn yourself on your back.

"Fuck off." you growl. Click. Gun loaded. Pointing it at the man's now petrified face, you smirk.

"I-I'm sorry!" he spits out.

"No, you aren't honey." Bang. His body hits the ground with a thud and the familiar metallic taste of blood splatters your face. A steady hand wipes away the remains from your eyes and you exit the car, as calmly as you can manage.

"I'd like a room please." The motel owner stares at you, astonished. At the blood or because he recognizes you? Either one isn't good. This wasn't a good decision-- at all. Thump. A shriek from the parking lot distracts you momentarily and the owner takes a laptop and hits you over the head.

"What the fuck?" you grumble. The dumbass didn't even draw blood. With a quick flash, you shoot him too. This whole thing is getting tiring. Fuck, fuck. How the fuck? you wonder, pissed off as you hear sirens. Did the source of the shriek really call the cops that fast? Or were you in such a haze that you can't even think straight, let alone keep track of time. Oh, fuck me. Three black SUVs are with the swarm of police cars. SUVs that you recognize without a doubt as the FBI. Thump. No negotiations this time, no bullshit.

You exit the motel with the gun in your hand. Red and blue lights make you squint and illuminate your figure in the dead of night. Getting a good look at the imagie in front of you, you laugh. Lo and behold, the BAU.

"I'm sorry." you say, just loud enough for everyone to hear before pointing the gun at Spencer Reid.

Bang. Thump. The sharp pain shoots through your chest and you hear a scream. Your head hits the ground and your entire body gives out.

"Y/N!"

You laugh, spitting up raspy strings of red as you do. Suddenly, your head is being cradled and you're being frantically whispered to and yelled about.

"Medic! We need a medic!"

"N-Nice turnout, isn't it?" You cough violently.

"Shh, don't talk Y/N. Please." He strokes your hair as the EMTs load you into the ambulance.

"S-Spence," you call out, barely able to stay conscious.

"What is it sweetheart?"

"Take care of my b-baby for me," another horrible cough escapes you. "Give her the best life you can, t-tell her..."

"Miss Y/L/N, hurry it up, we need to get you into surgery."

"Tell her that her mother loves her, even if I'm not around."

Spencer's eyes flood with tears, they spill out onto his cheeks as he watches the ambulance drive away. Then it hits him. Her. He's having a baby girl.

SPENCER'S POV - E.R.

Hours pass with still no update on Y/N's condition. Most of team has gone home, waiting on call. I don't blame them. I'm the only one still here for Y/N. I feel helpless, like my head is underwater and I'm about to drown. Guilty, so guilty that I still love her. Angry. She's the one who was shot yet the anguish I feel is so fucking deep that it's as if knives are stabbing at my lungs.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" I stand up so quickly I think I might fall over.

"Yes I'm her b--" he stops himself. "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, h-how is she?"

"No loved ones here for her? I heard she killed some people but damn."

"Is she stable or not?" I snap, regretting it immediately upon seeing her reaction.

And then she speaks.

"The bullets severed 3 major arteries."

No. They saved her. They have to have saved her.

"Y/N didn't make it."

Everything stops. It feels like my limbs and head weigh a ton. Everything's heavy. My breathing becomes less and less effective, disbelieving, tiring. All color in the room fades, leaving me in darkness. I feel weak and detached, chest clenching until I collapse into the chair behind me.

"Doctor Reid?" the surgeon questions softly.

I don't look at her. I stare at the wall across from me, unable to speak, unable to cry even. My mouth is dry and I feel broken.

"Doctor Reid, I need to know who the child of her father is. We were able to save her."

Thump. Thump. Exhale. I meet her eyes.

"Take me to my daughter please." I say low and as steady as I can without breaking down. The surgeon gives me an odd look, processing the information I've given before turning. I stop her.

"Wait..." I gulp heavily. "Can I see Y/N first?"

She nods, hesitantly.

"Right this way."

Y/N's body lays, peacefully. It should be comforting to know she wasn't scared when she died but I want her here with me. I take her cold, lifeless hand in mine and the tears finally leave me. I let out a loud cry and bring my face down to her stomach, resting and shaking on her skin.

"I'm so sorry," I cry to her body, unable to hear me. "I love-- loved you. I swear."

Sniffling painfully, I notice something in her bra. Leave it to Y/N to torture me even from the dead.

"Dearest Spencer,

I think the way things played out were fitting. If you're reading this, I'm probably dead. Fucking creep, took a letter out of my dead body's bra. Kidding, kidding. Seriously though, give my baby a pretty name, will ya? I hope she gets your kindness, your strength. Everything that makes you you. Raise her to be everything we've ever dreamed of. You make sure she knows I love her, so much. Now quit being a pussy and wipe those tears, darling. We both know I deserved this. I love you, Spence and I forgive you. You got this babe.

Yours truly, Y/N."

My heart is ripped out farther and farther with each word read. It gives me a sense of closure but the pain and turmoil doesn't go away. A life where Y/N isn't here with me isn't a life at all.

"Excuse me," I say blankly as if every emotion I'm feeling simply doesn't exist within me. "I'm done."

The woman guides and then leaves me alone with my child. I hold her in my arms and gasp lightly. She's small but perfect and she smiles at me, lighting my heart. She has Y/N's smile. The fire inside me lessens, being slightly soothed by the newborn in my arms. We'd spoken a few times about having children but I'd always thought she'd be here when the day came. I think about it for a second. I won't name her Y/N, that's much too cliche for Y/N's liking. She isn't the type to name a child without meaning.

"Ellie." I whisper.

Ellie. Meaning 'shining light'.

The light I already love.

The light that holds every piece of Y/N's story in her eyes.

The light that'll get me through this utter darkness.

My light.

Goodbye Y/N. I'll never forget you, the light and the love of my mortal life.

#criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #bau x reader

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diazboys · 4 years ago

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love, don’t let me go | 2.2k words | buddie | established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff | ao3

written for Eddie Diaz Week 2021 | Day 4: “I don’t deserve this.” + guilt

The firehouse is silent. They’re halfway through a 24-hour shift but it’s been rather calm. Not many calls, only a small house fire, a guy locking himself inside his own car and a fender bender. Eddie doesn't like it. Not the city being relatively good and safe, of course, but the calm. The silence that engulfs the station is driving him mad. It gives him too much time to think and Eddie doesn’t like the kind of thoughts that are swarming his head lately.

For a moment he considers heading to the bunk room but he quickly dismisses it. He won’t be able to sleep anyway and he doesn’t want to disturb anyone. A while ago he sent Buck there so he could get some rest. They were lounging on the couch, watching some late-night history documentary with a crazy amount of conspiracy theories in it. It didn’t take long for Buck to start drifting off. His head slid down Eddie’s shoulder, arms getting looser around his waist. Knowing that if he fell asleep like this, he’d be all stiff and cranky later, Eddie nudged him awake and sent him to bed. He had to promise he’d join and get some rest himself before Buck finally agreed to go, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s lips and walking away with a loud yawn. Eddie intended to keep the promise but… not now.

With a sigh, Eddie gets up from the couch, not even realising that the documentary has ended a while ago. Trying to find himself something to do, he wanders around the empty loft. He opens the fridge, even though he’s not hungry. He empties the dishwasher as quietly as he can and then loads the remaining dirty plates inside. He wipes the counters. Then he puts the notes Hen left on the table into a neat pile, mindful that all the sticky notes stay in their places. Seeing that there’s not much to do here anymore, he considers going downstairs. Maybe he could exercise for a bit. It should do the trick to help clear his mind and maybe tire him enough so he can get some sleep.

Eddie drags his hand across his face in a frustrated gesture. Before he can do anything, he hears a voice coming from behind.

“You okay, Eddie?”

Taking a slow breath, Eddie turns around to face Bobby. He hopes that his face doesn’t show too many of the emotions rumbling in his head. It’s a futile hope, according to Buck. He always makes fun of Eddie for having the most expressive face he’s ever seen. The thought almost puts a smile on Eddie’s face.

“Yeah, I’m good, Cap,” Eddie says.

Bobby’s watchful eyes don’t leave Eddie but there’s worry written all over his face when he asks, “You sure? You seem a bit… restless. And you’ve been a bit distant for the past few days.”

Eddie sighs. It’s true. He just hoped he could deal with it quickly enough so that nobody would point it out. When they’re on a call, Eddie always stays focused on the job, but when they’re all just hanging around Eddie gets too caught up in his own head to laugh at the jokes or bite back at the mocking. Buck has been bugging him about it every day, because of course he realised. He was the first one to. But how can Eddie tell him when it’s all Buck’s fault?

No, he corrects himself. It’s not Buck’s fault. He has done absolutely nothing wrong and Eddie doesn’t have the right to look at it that way. Everything that is happening, is because of him.

“No, it’s—,” Eddie starts, trying to clear his head. “Just a bit tired. Got some things on my mind. That’s all.”

Not looking entirely convinced, Bobby nods and slowly moves closer to the table. Eddie’s fingers are wrapped around the back of the chair in front of him but he doesn’t sit when Bobby does so across from him. But he doesn’t run away, either.

“Something’s up with Christopher?” Bobby prods gently and when Eddie shakes his head, he carefully adds, “With Buck?”

Eddie clenches his jaw. It’s just a small gesture, but Bobby still notices. “You guys had a fight?”

“No, it’s not—,” Eddie says and feels very tired all of sudden. The legs scrape loudly against the floor as Eddie pulls at the chair and drops down on it. “It’s great. Buck’s great. I’m— really happy with him.”

“But?”

“But that’s the problem,” Eddie shakes his head with a sad smile. “I’m not sure if we should— If I should— Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.”

A non-committal hum leaves Bobby’s mouth as he waits for Eddie to continue. When he doesn’t, Bobby asks, “Why? He makes you happy. I can clearly see that you make him happy. And you’ve mentioned that Christopher took it more than well. So what happened?”

Eddie bites at his upper lip, trying to gather his thoughts and keep his emotions at bay. It wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted to have right now. Or ever, probably. But Bobby was looking at him with this soft, worried look and Eddie felt like maybe it could lessen the knot that has been slowly tightening in his stomach for weeks. Maybe from the very moment he first kissed Buck, in the dim light of his own living room when they were watching some stupid cartoon, Buck’s eyes bright and happy as he looked down at Christopher, asleep and curled tightly against Buck’s side. It didn’t change that much between them, the kiss. But at the same time, it changed everything and Eddie felt like he was standing on top of a mountain. He wanted to admire the beautiful view but kept his eyes firmly on the ground, to make sure he won’t trip and fall into the precipice.

“Nothing. Not yet, at least,” Eddie says and then words start falling out of his mouth before he can stop them. “But Shannon made me happy, too. And she was happy with me. Before I messed it all up and ran away and she left because she didn’t know what else to do. There are so many things,” Eddie says slowly through gritted teeth, “that I’ve messed up in my life. I can’t mess this up. I can’t lose Buck.”

“Who said you’re gonna lose him?”

“I’ve been a bad son, a horrible father and even worse husband. I’ve done so many things that I regret now but can’t fix. Why would I be a good boyfriend to Buck?” Eddie looks at Bobby but quickly averts his gaze as he feels his eyes burning. “And Buck is— He’s good. He loves Christopher endlessly and Christopher loves him just as much. He’s so caring and thoughtful and there’s still so much kindness in him. I admire him and I can’t believe he— He’s always there to catch me when I need it and he’s— He’s everything. And I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him.”

If Eddie wasn’t trying so hard to keep himself together, he would probably feel embarrassed for laying his heart out for his captain like this. He wasn’t one for speeches or talking about feelings. But he knew Bobby would understand. Bobby knew Buck. Bobby, who was more of a father to Buck that his real father was, knew that Buck was a good person, one of the best. He knew that he deserved everything good from the world. And Eddie couldn’t give him that.

“Eddie,” Bobby’s voice is soft when he leans across the table, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He doesn’t continue, so eventually Eddie looks up at him. “You’re a good person. You’re so much more than the mistakes you’ve made in the past. They don’t define who you are. You’ve made a choice. A conscious choice to change, to try again, to keep going, and you’ve done all the hard work and put in effort to do this. And that’s what matters. You deserve to be happy, Eddie.”

Looking away, Eddie shakes his head and bites the inside of his cheek. “But what if it doesn’t work out? Again? I don’t know what I’d do without him. And I was perfectly happy with being just his friend. So maybe we should just… try to fix it and go back to where we were before it’s too late. Maybe we should—” he stops, not able to voice the thought that has been haunting him for the past week.

“There’s no reason for fixing something that’s not broken, Eddie,” Bobby says. “I’m pretty sure Buck doesn’t want to lose you, either. You mean too much to each other to just give up. No matter what life throws your way, I know you two can figure it out. You said you regretted running away before. So don’t. Stay and let yourself be happy. You can’t base your life on what if’s.”

It all makes sense. Eddie knows it does but it’s so hard to believe sometimes. There’s no doubt about his feelings for Buck. He has been in love with him before he even knew how to call the sense of warmth and peace that overtook him every time Buck was around. And he hasn’t doubted Buck’s feelings for a second, either. And Eddie knows that there’s nothing in the world that would make him happier than going through life with Buck by his side, than making a place for him in Eddie’s family. As if he wasn’t part of it the second he appeared in his and Christopher’s life. The fear that’s been looming over his head, the guilt that’s been haunting him didn’t let him see all of this.

“You deserve every good thing in your life. Even when it’s hard to accept it. Especially if it is.” Bobby’s hand is heavy when it lands on Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze.

Eddie only nods, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He hopes that Bobby can see the gratefulness he wants to express. And judging by the warm smile on his captain’s face, he can.

“...Eddie?”

They both look up, startled by the noise. Buck is standing at the top of the stairs, hesitant. His hair is mussed from sleep and he looks between the two of them with a worried expression.

Turning back to Eddie, Bobby gives his shoulder one more squeeze and after getting a shaky smile in response, he gets up. On his way downstairs, he passes Buck, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a smile and then he’s gone. For a moment, Buck just stands there, looking after Bobby with a confused frown. Then he unfreezes and rushes towards Eddie.

“Eddie, are you—,” Buck starts, pulling up a chair for himself and he sits, turning his whole body towards Eddie. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie nods, trying to smile and stop the tears at the same time. They are not the same, miserable tears that welled up in his eyes not-so-long ago. They are happy tears because Eddie is the happiest man alive. But Buck doesn’t know this. And so the worried wrinkle on his forehead only deepens as he leans closer to Eddie, taking his hand into his.

“But you’re— Did something happen? I’m freaking out, Eds, just talk to me, please.”

Instead of doing that, Eddie just laughs wetly and leans forward to press a soft kiss to Buck’s lips.

“Everything is great, I promise,” Eddie says, smiling. His hands cup Buck’s face as he kisses him again. “You make me so happy, Buck. I love you so much.”

“And… that’s what you’ve been talking with Bobby about?” Buck raises an eyebrow and the worry is slowly replaced by a small smile.

“Basically,” Eddie chuckles. “I just needed some sense talked into me.”

Buck hums, clearly curious but he doesn’t ask. “Well, Bobby’s good at that. And I’m happy with the conclusions you guys have made. I love you too, in case you were wondering.”

God, Eddie can’t believe he considered leaving this wonderful man, considered walking out of the best thing in his life. It feels so stupid now.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Eddie asks, brushing his thumb across Buck’s cheek.

“I know you lied and didn’t intend to get any rest unless I dragged you downstairs,” Buck raises an eyebrow at him.

Eddie makes a shocked face, “Did I ever lie to you? Name one time I lied to you.”

“You said you liked the casserole I made last week and I saw you giving half of your serving to Christopher,” Buck points out.

“Green beans, Buck! You know I don’t like green beans!”

When Buck shakes his head at him, the fondness and love written all over his face as he leans for another kiss, Eddie feels the knot in his stomach disappearing completely. Finally, he can see that this happiness is not something he should or could ever leave behind. He still has his fears and worries, they won't just disappear like that. But if there's one thing that he and Buck know is that you have to fight for the things you love. No matter how hard it might be. And this thing they have is way too important to give up on.

#eddiediazweek2021 #eddieweek2021 #buddie fic #buddie #911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #my writing #let me know what u think ♥#with every fic they get a little bit longer lmao #we'll see how it looks by the end of the week

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delu-jean · 3 years ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> Angst (A little fluffy in this chapter) -> 3.1k

Ⅱ > Ⅳ

You felt uneasy after hearing those words, just what exactly was going to happen?

‘Why was Bertholdt so anxious, why did he seem to be in such a hurry, were they figured out?’ you stood still after such a thought.

What if they were? Maybe that’s why he was trying to protect you?...but then at the same time, how after all of this time? It didn’t make any sense being that those three were too good at stage play. You decided that inferring things weren’t going to help, so rather, you decided to listen to Bertholdt since his advice would.

That being the case, you chose to distance yourself with days that came. Of course you didn’t want to doubt the three (about getting caught), but that didn’t mean you couldn’t take any precautions. You decided that not getting involved with others would lessen the chance of your loss.

People in the training grounds tried interacting with you, but you either simply smiled them off, or went your way. You wanted to be alert as possible in this situation, that being the case, there was no time for interaction with the...enemy….

‘Enemy this and enemy that,’ you thought to yourself angrily. Honestly, at this point, your feelings about these Eldians had changed.

You felt conflicted because now you had a visual on what these people were like. They seemed like ordinary civilians, living their lives like anyone else. The difference was, rather than living under the oppression of Marely, they were living under the rule of titans. You learned just how damaging they were to their kind, which honestly...made you feel remorseful.

At the same time, even if this was your view of them (for now atleast), you kept on reminding yourself that they could easily turn into “devils” at any moment. Especially if they knew that you were a part of an opposing side. Yes, the same race, yet you both were so...different. You sighed to yourself as you watched Jean try to approach you.

It was Eldians like Jean who gave you hope. While Eren terrified you, Jean did the opposite. His presence made you feel comfortable, and enlightened. Not that the others weren’t kind, it was that...Jean was different. Very different in fact. You weren’t sure as to why that was, but kept that feeling tucked away.

You kept convincing yourself that staying away from the others was for your safety, and yours only. But you knew deep down that you wouldn’t want any of them to get caught up in such brutal affairs. Especially Jean...since he was the closest to you (out of the bunch). So, you deflected him. But you did it in a harsher manner. If you had just smiled, he would’ve been more persistent. So, you simply avoided him.

When he approached, you walked the other way. When he waved, you would look away. When he tried talking to you, you gave him no words. Your eyes averted elsewhere (partly had to do with how anxious you were) and you tried dodging any questions. This went on for a bit until he eventually gave in and stopped trying to get your attention. You were relieved for that, yet hated the feeling. He seemed hurt by your actions, and you could tell what kind of effect they were giving. Regardless, you kept those thoughts in your mind.

‘Y/n...you’re doing this for the sake of you, the warriors and...the others,’ (A/N: “others” being Jean fufu ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

Trost

The day came when you all headed to Trost. You saw, or rather, heard the scouts as they had just come back from an expedition. However, your attention wasn’t poured into that, but rather, the task ahead. Some of your comrades were sent to clean the cannons, some at the supply route, and others (along with yourself) were helping with loading things such as: supplies, food, and etc.

Jean and Marco were also with you. You sighed carrying boxes back and forth while the two conversed behind you. Marco then left and you noticed Jean was still behind you. It was quiet for a while, but then he decided to break the ice.

“Y/n…” you don’t respond and eventually, it gets on his nerves.

“Y/n...L/n,” his tone got more aggressive. He then snapped and started yelling.

“Y/n...Why won’t you talk to me dammit!? I don’t understand why you’re doing this, and exactly as to when you’ll stop!! You’ve been avoiding everyone, me especially! Last time I checked, I didn’t do anything, so why are you avoiding me?”

He took a deep breath as you continued to keep your mouth shut. Gosh was he getting on your nerves. You just needed time alone until Bertholdt gave you the clear, or anything for the matter. He hasn’t talked to you ever since, and you haven’t interacted with the other two (worried something might have happened). You continued doing your job.

“Seriously!? Y/N TALK TO ME!”

You looked at him intensely, straight in the eye. Before you could say anything, you heard a large explosion from a far. Though it didn’t sound close, it was close enough for you to hear. Out of reaction, you grabbed Jean’s arm and started running in the opposite direction.

“Y-Y/n!? What are you-”

“Just trust me,” you barely got that out as the bells started ringing.

‘But how?...titans?...how did they break the wall?....” you panicked yet tried keeping your composure.

Although you did this, you could tell Jean knew your mind wasn’t in the best condition. Regardless, you brushed it off and tried looking for the other three. In the process, civilians ran towards the direction you both were headed. Many pushed, shoved, and trampled those in front. You almost lost Jean, but he had a tight grip around your hand. That touch comforted you in the midst of this chaos.

“WE NEED AS MANY SOLDIERS AS WE CAN GET! FILL YOUR TANKS AND GET A MOVE ON!”

Both you and Jean ran towards the supply ruote (HQ) preparing yourselves for what was yet to come.

You ran inside to then see others in a hurry. Filling up tanks, blasting out, and panicking all at once. You saw Armin and Eren sitting together. Armin struggled while Eren scolded. You approached the two quickly and asked:

“What exactly is happening?”

“I saw the colossal,” Eren responded.

‘Bertholdt?...what the hell…’

“He kicked down the entrance, and now titans are flooding. Quick, fill up your tanks to max capacity. And Armin, hurry, they need us.”

‘How...just what was he thinking?’ you then were sectioned off into different groups, spreading from there.

You and your team were off killing titans. So far, you were able to get three successfully, but sacrificed two people in the process. Annie had glided past you at one point, a sharp stare was given to her, yet she didn't acknowledge the exchange and went the other direction. You felt frustrated not knowing as to why Bertholdt would do such a thing, but knowing she knew, made you outraged.

Being so caught in thought, your gear then stopped working. You had to stop at a rooftop. You struggled while trying to untangle your wires, along with fixing the controls. The stress was really seeping in (which wasn’t helping). You then saw a titan approaching. It was a slower one, yet, it approached with long strides. You started to lose your composure, was this where you would also lose your life?

You then thought about what Bertholdt said.

“Whatever you do, don’t get killed. Stay alive, and alert. Stick with Jean, Eren, Mikasa. Anyone for the matter...okay?”

You looked around to see everyone soaring the other direction. Some gave you empathetic looks, but that was about it. No one was going to save you, and here you were left...alone. You sat there helplessly. There was no way you were going to fix your gear in time.

“Sorry Bertholdt...I guess I’m going to break my promise-”

Right before the titan got its hands on you, Jean swooped in and grabbed you. Your eyes widened as it almost caught his wire. Luckily, he was able to pull out a lot faster and dogged the attack. You then looked at him as he clung onto you. A couple others behind him sliced the titans' nape, giving you both time to escape.

While you both were in the air, he helped adjust your gear correctly. He was now dragging you. Once things were fixed, you both swung side by side. He seemed very frustrated, and started yelling yet again.

“You were struggling with controlling the wires and controls!? Y/n, that’s basic training!! How could you struggle with that in this scenario?! I’ve taught you so many times-” he then looked to see you...crying.

Tears flowed down the side of your cheeks while you whimpered. The thought of death scared you, but the thought of him dying also...was too much to bear. If he was even a second late, he would’ve died along with you. What would you have done then, nothing. Because you wouldn’t have been able to. He was right, this was basic training, yet you failed to even complete that. No wonder why Bertholdt told you to stick with others. You thought you could get through things yourself, yet this event proved you wrong.

You felt him put an arm around you, guiding you to a reserved building. He wrapped his arms around you as he exhaled deeply. You could feel him quiver as your face was buried in his shoulder. He sighed and ran his hand down your head to your back.

“I’m sorry, I was being too brash. It’s just that...I could have lost you...you know? I’ve watched so many people die today, and I couldn’t imagine you being one of them,” you cried a lot harder now. Forget keeping your guard up, this was a matter of life or death. And if that was the case, you wanted to do things according to your terms.

You both stood there for a few minutes until you heard the others catch up. From there, he let go of you and then gave you his hand.

“Come on, let’s go,” he grinned softly as you accepted the offer. Flying your way out.

---

After regrouping with everyone, Jean was then in charge of the brigade. Marco had ensured that his leadership would do them good, and so did you. Jean led you back to HQ. Some were lost during this action, but some had made it. After crashing into HQ, you could tell Jean was on edge. You wanted to console him, but before you could, you watched as he started telling off the other scouts there.

“PEOPLE ARE DYING OUT THERE!”

“YOU COULDN’T DO YOUR JOB AND BRING OUT SUPPLIES!?”

“THAT’S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO HANDLE!”

Marco held him back as you watched him yell. You wanted to stop it, but he wasn’t wrong. If they had done their job, maybe less of you would’ve died. But instead here you were. Hundreds dead physically, and the other thousand mentally.

While Jean was having his moment, you tried straightening yourself out. You saw Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie standing at the other end of the room. You approached them in anger, only to be interrupted by titans. Ready to grab your blades, you then saw a berserk titan on the loose. The features of it were very distinct, which got you thinking.

“No...that’s impossible…” you then looked at the others who seemed to have similar thoughts.

You watched (along with others) as it took down titan after titan. With that being over, Armin came over plan ready and determined as ever.

“Okay, so this is what we need to do.”

You got in positions, gun ready, and watched as Jean, Miaksa, Sasha and the others positioned themselves. This was somewhat of a scary encounter, but you listened to Marco as he led the group (along with Armin).

“FIRE!” you then heard gunshots coming from different directions, along with yours.

You watched as one titan sprawled on the floor. It seemed as if someone had just killed it, which meant things didn't go according to plan. But that didn’t matter. As Long as you all were alive, that was good enough. You all started filling up your tanks yet again. You watched Marco and Jean have a little bonding moment. You thought it was sweet and decided to watch instead of intrude.

Jean caught your stare and gave you a smile in return. You felt your cheeks flush a bit as you turned the other way, focusing on the task given.

You’re sent out and continue fighting titans. You were able to get about one yourself while your team helped you with the others. Before you went, you watched as the berserk titan was covered in many other titans.

‘That would only happen if...so I was right…’ you gazed as it ran towards another.

The three in front of you stared intensely at the beast, probably having the same thoughts. While you four were tense, everyone watched as it took down another titan. Then, it tarnished into a corpse. You watched waiting to see who would come out of the cocoon, to see no other than… “Eren Jaegar.”

You froze in place. Why, why him of all people? He already scared you enough, and now he had the founder. What the hell was this monstrosity? Your eyes widened to then hear Jean say:

“So Eren...did all of this?...”

Time Skip

Eventually, you saw a crowd of cadets piled up. Curious, you went to see the commotion. It seemed as if most soldiers had given up for the cause, and you couldn’t help but empathize. You understand why they wanted to leave, but you, if not all, needed them to stay. You then heard a whistle from above, Commander Pixis looked down at each and everyone of you.

He spoke for a good moment, to then introduce Eren. You could see his determination all the way from here. Rather than petrified, you felt discouraged. It would be a challenge to get the founder from such a feisty person, that is, if you even could. You then started to pay attention to what the commander was instructing. You had one of the two choices.

Either work with your comrades on the walls, or go and distract titans within them (meaning, in the town itself). You decided to stay cautious, and helped from above. Although that’s what you decided, you knew the others would do differently. So you picked yourself up, got into formation, and did your best when fiending off the titans.

Eventually, Eren was able to close off the exit. “History” was made, you would say. Your throat was parched as you felt overwhelmed with the feeling of relief. You made it, and so did the people surrounding you. You made it your business to find Jean and the others. You swung all around to then see them on the roofs. You pull Jean towards your direction, flying you both to a different area. The others watched you, but you could care less.

He seemed very flustered, and was going to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance to. Instead, you quickly placed him in another compact, yet needed hug. You felt him relax and quickly do the same. You tightened your grip each time he moved, and smiled into his coat as you said the words:

“We did it, we lived and saved the people we could,” he seemed like he had gone through a lot, but melted into your embrace as you both sat there, together.

“Yeah...we did.”

Clean up

You and Jean had parted just minutes ago. He claimed that he hadn’t seen Marco, so he wanted to go and look for him. You assured him things would be fine and he grinned. You let him go on his way, and you went yours. You had business to attend, remembering as to why this happened in the first place. You went up to Bertholdt and gripped his arm. He could tell you were furious and looked at the other two (and vice versa).

“Okay...not here…” he whispered as you let go.

“Okay well it better be somewhere!”

Reiner directed you three towards an empty place. You inhaled sharply as you clenched your fists.

“First of all, what the hell was that Bertholdt? I hear the bell to then be told the ‘Colossal Titan’ was seen. Why was I not told about this? You guys killed so many of our comrades in the process-”

“Y/n, define ours. If anything, they sound like yours,” Reiner said as you walked up to him. You could care less at this point, as you scowled:

“You know damn well you think differently. Stick your act up your ass when I’m not here, but as of right now, you better give the explanation I want.”

You take a step back as Reiner stares to the side. Your anger was not something to trigger, and you made sure to display that. He sat there for what seemed like hours, as you did the same. You thought a little during this time.

‘Wait...maybe they...maybe they wanted me dead? What else could be the reason for such actions?...’ you then looked at Reiner. Although you decided not to confront your thoughts, they didn’t confirm anything either. That was until reiner started blurting out nonsense.

“It was last minute.”

‘If that were the case, why did Bertholdt warn me in advance?’

“We didn’t want to burden you.”

‘Liar...you didn’t want to tell me...but why?’

“What matters is that you’re alive.”

‘But you wanted me dead.’

Bad Eldians, good ones...could you even classify them as good Eldians at this point. But even worse, could you even say you were one? You knew of the warriors and their titans all along, the original plans taking place, yet here you were defending those you were “against.” At this point, you weren’t even sure where your priorities stood, and you knew too well for a fact that the three others didn’t as well.

“Look, next time we’ll be sure to let you in. Don’t take it the wrong way...okay? We care about you, and we did what we thought was best. Now, let's help clean up.”

He started to walk away as Bertholdt followed. You watch Bertholdt look back to then stare at Annie. You felt bad for the ordeal he was in since she walked elsewhere. But then, you felt even more sorry for yourself and the situation you were put in.

Ⅱ > Ⅳ

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Stabbed

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, Virgil, Gordon

Proofreading? What’s proofreading? This was a ventfic I started a while ago, and as my muse decided today - my one free day to properly write this week! - was the best day to go curl up in a corner and refuse to interact with me because some unwelcome stress appeared, I prodded a little more at this and maybe there’s enough to post. Maybe. It’s not a darkfic, but it is kinda whumpy so sorry, Scott.

I have nothing specifically planned for this, so chances are this is just going to remain like this forever more. Sorry about that.

Scott gasped, staggering one step, two steps forward as something drove into his back. Something solid, digging in painfully.

In front of him, crumbling away beneath the toes of his boots, was the crevasse he’d just climbed out of, the woman clinging to his back for dear life – uninjured, but shaken and unable to climb out herself.

Whatever it was was still lodged in his back, sending distress signals to his brain, but before Scott could unscramble it enough for a translation, there was a hand on his shoulder. Steady but firm, heel of the palm dropped down over his shoulder blade.

“Sorry, hun,” the woman purred – was it the same women? She’d been shaken but this woman wasn’t shaken at all – sounding entirely unapologetic. “I appreciate the help, but I can’t have you blabbing.”

The pressure on – in – his back lessened abruptly, and the hand on his shoulder pushed.

Scott stumbled, earth gave way, and then he was falling, falling down into the darkness. Instinct had him reaching for his grapple, but his back screamed at the movement and against his wishes his hands went numb, grazing the equipment but failing to grasp it.

Something went crunch inside his chest as his fall came to an abrupt end. A rib or few, no doubt, but Scott had broken ribs before; a nuisance but as long as they didn’t poke holes anywhere they shouldn’t they’d be fine. He was more concerned about his back, and the fact that he hadn’t landed at the bottom, but rather an outcropping of rock that wasn’t big enough for all of him. Already, he could feel blood rushing to his head as it dangled off the end, and the tingly feeling in his fingers that meant the blood flow to his extremities was compromised by the way they, too, were hanging.

Squinting, he could see his legs dangling as well, leaving his torso and abdomen the only thing actually caught by the outcrop. If he shifted, his centre of balance would tip him off either forwards or backwards, and it was a long way down.

This was a problem. This was a big problem, and his screaming back just emphasised that. His baldric was trapped between his chest and the outcrop, meaning that he couldn’t reach the comm in that, and his wrist comm…

He tried to twitch his tingling fingers without moving the rest of his arms. It was not a successful move. A second attempt was no better, and on his third he felt himself start to slip.

That was a major hint that he should stop moving. Breathing didn’t help, either, his no doubt broken ribs sending stabs of pain through his chest to compliment the burning back. He still didn’t know for certain what had happened, but he was starting to get a reluctant inkling.

There were only so many things that hurt specifically like this and Scott was unfortunately no stranger to things stabbing into him, as much as he tried hard not to think about it. He redirected his concern to the fact that whatever it was, it didn’t feel like it was there any more.

Suddenly the weird and uncomfortable position he was dangling in felt like a best case scenario, even if he could do without all the blood also rushing to his head. But if it was pooling downwards, and the open wound was on the highest point of his body, maybe he wouldn’t bleed out quite so quickly.

He just had to hope one of his brothers realised something was wrong soon – but not so soon they also got attacked.

***

John telling him Scott had gone silent and wasn’t responding to hails had rushed Virgil into the fastest post-rescue clean up he’d ever done. They weren’t far apart in distance – Scott had made the hop from this rescue to the trapped climber when the call had come in – but if John was worried, then Virgil was definitely worried.

Scott not picking up calls was unusual, especially multiple. John had given them all enough earfuls about ignoring him that unless they had a really good reason, they always tried to respond immediately – the second eldest was not a brother to cross, and even Scott was wary enough of the consequences to at least agree to open comms. Then again, open comms worked both ways and meant Scott could check up on them, too.

The added warning that it looked like his suit had taken some damage and he was partway down the crevasse and not moving was really just the icing on the cake. Gordon had been slightly baleful at the snap to hurry up, until Virgil told him John thought Scott was in trouble, and then the aquanaut had jumped to work at a terrifyingly fast and efficient pace.

There was no room for slothfulness when a brother was in trouble. Record time saw Thunderbird Two loaded and ready to go, and she roared into the sky at his touch, nose pointed in the direction her sister had headed earlier.

Thunderbird One had made the journey in five minutes. Thunderbird Two made it in a shade under fifteen, going as fast as she could to minimise how long it took. It was still twenty minutes since John had made the call, and Scott still wasn’t answering. Scans and telemetry still put him down the crevasse, and Virgil didn’t bother to land.

Normally he’d keep control of Thunderbird Two and send Gordon down on the cable, but not this time. Not for Scott and the nagging sensation that he was needed. Gordon didn’t argue when control was passed to him, and Virgil wasted no time in getting down to the module and rigging himself into a harness to be lowered.

It was a fair way down, not because Scott was far into the crevasse but because Thunderbird Two had to stay high so she didn’t dislodge anything with her VTOL. They had no idea how secure or otherwise their brother’s position was, and if he fell from whatever was keeping him there, it was a very long way to the bottom. A fatal fall.

Virgil couldn’t take any chances.

The familiar flash of blue uniform was the first thing he noticed. The muddy crimson spreading across it was the second.

He accelerated his descent.

“Scott?” His voice was drowned out by the VTOL of his ‘bird above. If Scott heard him, there was no reaction. “Scott!”

Still nothing, and that red stain taunted him for the agonising seconds it took to draw level with the slumped form and properly get a look at his brother’s condition.

Bad was one way of putting it. “John, find us a local hospital,” was another.

There was a ragged hole in the back of Scott’s uniform, the epicentre of the blood. It barely missed the baldric, the margin looking painfully deliberate, but most concerning was the lack of an obvious case. Scott knew better than to take out foreign objects until it was time to be treated, and even if he’d mistakenly thought treatment was about to happen, there was no way he had reached whatever it was to extract it so cleanly.

Virgil felt cold at the implications. “Gordon, anyone else nearby?”

He didn’t wait for the answer as he secured himself to the rock face with a grapple and yanked an emergency first aid kit out of his own baldric. Scott hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as twitched, at his arrival, and with the quantity of blood he’d lost, if he wasn’t unconscious he might as well be.

“Negative, Virgil,” Gordon said, voice steady and threaded with something that sounded like the military had come to the fore. “How bad is it?”

“Bad.” Virgil didn’t have the mental capacity to spare on anything more than basic answers. “I’m secure; put her on autopilot and get a blood transfusion set up in the medbay.”

“F.A.B.” The line connecting him to his ‘bird wavered slightly at the change in piloting, but the grapple held him in place. Confident that Thunderbird Two would be ready for them, he wadded gauze and pressed it firmly to the hole in Scott’s back. There was no response, no indication that Scott was even subconsciously aware of their surroundings, and he strapped it down with medical tape.

A deployed med scanner told him that there were two broken ribs. Neither had snagged anything vital, but one was too close to Scott’s right lung for Virgil’s comfort. There was very little he could do about that hanging inside a crevasse, and the priority was to get him to medical treatment as fast as possible.

It was awkward, but Virgil was creative, and securing a harness over his limp ragdoll of a big brother to tie him firmly to the cable suspended from Thunderbird Two was not an option but a necessity. The gauze was already starting to discolour as the blood kept leaking out of the wound, and Virgil kept a careful eye on it as he triple-checked the line was secure and eased Scott off of the outcrop he was slung over.

The fact that his face was red wasn’t a reassurance; instead, it told him that Scott had been hanging down for long enough for the blood still in his body to pool in places it shouldn’t. There wasn’t much he could do about it without risking further blood flow out of his body, but as the harness took Scott’s weight and left him suspended next to him, Virgil reached out a hand and carefully tilted his head so it wasn’t hanging down.

Blue eyes stayed lightly closed, no sign of conscious or subconscious recognition at the touch, and Virgil’s fingers trembled. With his other hand he gripped the belt of Scott’s baldric, before sending up a call for them to be reeled in. Whether it was John, Gordon or EOS that did so he didn’t know. Didn’t care, either, because as the red drained from Scott’s face as blood retreated from pooling in his head it left too-white skin in its wake, which was almost worse.

Gordon’s language was colourful as he met them in the module, instantly fetching the hoverstretcher so that Scott could be gently lowered onto it as Virgil freed him from the harness and whisking him to the medbay as he extracted himself from his own straps.

It didn’t take long, but it was long enough for Gordon to have slipped Scott’s glove and bracer off of one arm and sliced the uniform open from wrist to shoulder, exposing the bare skin ready for the transfusion. No words were exchanged as Virgil took over, Gordon instead relocating to cut away the baldric and the uniform around the hole in his back, exposing the site in its entirely.

Beneath his feet, Thunderbird Two thrummed as Thunderbird Five directed her into movement. Virgil didn’t look away from his unconscious big brother for a single moment.

“This was a knife.” Gordon broke the silence, his voice icy. Virgil finished hooking Scott up to the blood bag and let it start flowing before looking over.

The aquanaut had removed the hastily plastered gauze, now saturated red, and was wiping away the worst of the blood from around the wound. It wasn’t free-flowing, but that didn’t reassure Virgil. After at least twenty minutes, Scott didn’t have much blood left he could afford to lose. With most of it currently pooled where he was lying on his front, there wasn’t much to continue leaking from his back.

Virgil didn’t question his diagnosis. When it came to things like that, Gordon knew more than he did. Instead, he reached for a clotting agent, determined to do everything in his power to lessen the amount of blood still trickling out, while Gordon applied a fresh gauze.

“Mind his ribs,” he warned as his younger brother pressed down firmly. “Two are broken.”

“Lungs?”

“Intact.” For now. Virgil hoped they could keep them that way.

There was little else he could do; a stab wound that deep needed surgery, and Thunderbird Two wasn’t an operating theatre. Virgil wasn’t a surgeon, either. “How far out are we, John?”

“Ten minutes,” his brother replied instantly. “I’ve passed on the results of the scan and they’re ready to take him straight in.”

“F.A.B.”

He didn’t want to let his brother out of his sight – not ever, and certainly not if he’d been stabbed – but Scott needed more treatment than he could give him. That didn’t make it easier to hand him over, blood bag still attached and a second prepped as the first ran low – and watch unfamiliar people whisk him away.

“Kayo’s on her way,” John told him. “Thunderbird One is locked down and secure. EOS is reviewing the security footage now to see what happened.”

“Some sonofagun stabbed him in the back’s what happened,” Gordon snapped. His fingers were curling and uncurling, never quite making a fist. They were also covered in blood. So were Virgil’s.

“To see who did it,” John clarified, not reacting to Gordon’s waspishness. “Until we know what we’re dealing with, stay together. And be careful.”

Virgil nodded, his voice somewhere stuck inside his throat, or maybe taken with Scott into the operating theatre. He should be trying to reassure Gordon, but Gordon had slipped into something less familiar, more sharp edges and dangerous, and Virgil trusted him to handle whatever was going on around them while he ran through everything in his head, double-checking that he’d done everything right, that he hadn’t missed anything in his initial treatment, that there was no mistake he'd made that might cost Scott’s life.

There was a hand on his arm. Amber eyes looked up at him, firm and steely. “Let’s get washed up,” Gordon said, although it wasn’t a suggestion. Dimly, Virgil knew it should be the other way around – he should be the one making the decisions – but Gordon oozed confidence and a knowledge that he’d be obeyed, and it felt safer just to follow. “Then we’ll go inside and wait for news.”

Wait to know if Scott would live. The words weren’t said, but Virgil heard them all the same.

He nodded numbly and let his younger brother guide him back inside his ‘bird.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #thunderwhump #drabbles #stabbed

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