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harunovella · 1 year ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much.

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed.

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life.

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers.

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box.

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not.

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route.

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room.

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms.

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him.

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head.

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him.

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby.

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction.

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered.

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way.

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded.

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out.

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction.

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

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zorosangell · 6 months ago

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⛥ﾟ・。 lucky punch: chapter one

chapter synopsis: after getting drunk at a Bonney rager with Nami, you're nearly busted by the cops... good thing a sexy, green-haired stranger was there to save you.

cw: high school/college au, violence, underage drinking, parties, mature themes, profanity, sports, reader is on the volleyball team, zoro is in kendo, you and zoro are both seniors and eighteen, etc.

"Damn it! These boots are impossible!" you drunkenly whined, stumbling slightly as your foot caught a raised chunk of sidewalk.

You knew you should've done the run test before leaving Nami's.

Now you were paying the price.

Behind you, the signature er-whoop of a cop car echoed, the sound sending a pang of fear through your heart as the world seemed to feel like it was closing in, the swirling red and blue lights bounding off the buildings and surrounding you on all sides.

'Someone just had to snitch!'

A few moments earlier, you were having the time of your life—dancing, drinking, and partying to your heart's content with your best friend in the whole wide world.

The problem was that you weren't exactly the legal age to be drinking, and it was just your luck that Eustass Kid—absolutely sloshed out of his mind—managed to tee-pee the house next to Bonney's and forced them to call the police.

So a riot began when the cops pulled up on the lawn, everyone scattering like roaches in fear of being caught.

Which was what you were supposed to be doing with your ginger gal pal.

But when the two of you nearly got cornered, you both split up, and, unluckily, you were the one the squad car chose to follow.

Now, to be fair, Bonney was known for throwing outrageous ragers at her house with little to no consequences, so all of this was bound to happen someday.

'But why'd they have to do this todayyyy?'

"Shit!"

Your shoes were holding you back from your full speed, forcing you to run awkwardly, while the alcohol pumping through your system made everything seem as if it was moving in slow motion, most of your attention focused on keeping on your feet.

Haphazardly, you attempted to cut a nearby corner, teetering to the side a little bit before you stabilized and continued to flounder down the sidewalk.

Despite the sharp pain in your heels, you pressed on strongly, knowing full well just what would happen if you were caught.

Out of all the people at the party, you were probably the one that could afford getting busted the least.

It was your dream to be the best volleyball player in the world, after all.

Because of your stellar performance as an outside hitter during your freshman year, you were whisked away to a special training camp across the country, where for two years you built up your body and honed your skills in hopes of returning senior year to be recognized by an international club.

Once that happens, it will be a straight shot to the top, ending with you going down in history as the greatest outside hitter volleyball has ever seen.

But, of course, all of that would fly right out the window if you gained a criminal record.

Your brows furrowed, feet picking up speed at the thought, even in your drunken state.

All that time...

All that work...

It would all be for nothing.

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, yanking you into a nearby alleyway covering your mouth as you let out a tiny yelp, eyes widening and blood running cold.

No!

You could've sworn the cop was still in the car...

How the hell did he get out so fast?

Yet as the squad car passed, the man holding you ducked into the shadows of the alley, watching closely as the police officer cruised past—the cop having stuck his head out the window to get a better look.

"Coulda swore she was right here..." he grumbled under his breath, brows furrowed.

He had a large scar stretching from his hairline to just above his cheekbone, two cigars hanging out the corner of his mouth as his eyes scanned over the area.

The mystery man's brows furrowed at the sight, body turning rigid.

Smoker.

'Shoulda known...'

He and Luffy had run into him a few times before.

The white-haired cop paused, giving the space one more once over before settling back in his seat, picking up his radio with an annoyed sigh.

"Tashigi, I lost her. Gonna circle back to your position and look for the redhead."

Your eyes widened, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

"Nami!" you whimpered, forcing the the man's calloused hand to press harder into your face to muffle the noise.

"Quiet," a deep, rough voice ordered, tone leaving no room for argument.

He held you with an iron grip, not budging even an inch as you began to squirm in his grasp.

He wasn't gonna spend another night in the precinct because of some girl who couldn't hold her liquor.

Suspicious, Smoker glanced in your direction, narrowing his eyes at the darkness as he looked directly at you—though he didn't know it.

Your heart stopped, your entire body freezing up as both you and the man behind you stayed still as statues, pressing firmer against the wall of the alley to avoid being revealed by the lights of the siren as the officer pulled off.

And once he was completely gone, you both let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders dropping as the tension finally oozed out your back.

"Are you stupid or something?" the man spat, curtly, the two of you stepping into the moonlight now that the cop was gone. "You could've gotten us both caught."

You turned around, raising a brow as he stepped closer, his chest about an inch away from yours.

Yum.

As your eyes adjusted to the better lighting, you couldn't help the warm buzz growing in your stomach at the sight of the absolutely gorgeous man in front of you.

He had a strong jaw, which looked like it could cut through stone, with sharp features and dark eyes that could bring any woman to her knees.

Eyes raking over his body, you might as well have been drooling, your expression not hiding your thoughts at all as you admired the prime slab of grade A male beef standing before you.

You were surprised you didn't notice just how large he was until then, six feet of chorded, hard-earned muscle, with a certain air that just made you want him to put you in a headlock.

'And then some...'

Not to mention his cute, soft-looking green hair.

"Are you that stripper Bonney tried to call?" you giggled, twirling a lock of your hair between your fingers as a lousy attempt to flirt.

Surprised, Zoro's breath hitched, a faint tinge of pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

What you said had caught him completely off guard, and confirmed his suspicions that you were completely hammered.

Now, he wasn't a good Samaritan by any means, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to ditch the dead weight and go back to finding Luffy—they had gotten split up, too.

But as he watched you look up at him, eyes glazed and lidded, feet having a slight wobble even as you stood still, he knew he couldn't leave.

You were a young, defenseless woman who was in the middle of an empty street alone at night, drunk as a skunk.

If he left you alone, it'd bother him for the rest of the day.

"Do you know where you are?" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Uh... no?" you pouted, taking a moment to slowly look around, indeed realizing that you had no idea where you were.

"Great," he huffed, grabbing your arm. "Do you know where you live?"

"Whyyyy...?"

"'Cause I'm gonna take your ass home."

"Woah, sir... how about you get to know me first?" you giggled, body swaying back and forth.

Eyes wide, he froze, turning red as a beet.

"It's not like that! I'm just giving you a ride—!"

"Listen, Mister Hot Guy," you interrupted, index finger digging into his hard chest. "You might've saved us from the police but that doesn't mean you can just have your way with me. We have to go to dinner first."

Taking a moment to pause, the man looked at you in disbelief.

Never in his life had he ever encountered such an idiotically stubborn person.

And not only were you stubborn, but you were also fucking beautiful.

While he was a man who prided himself on self-restraint and respect, he couldn't help but let his eyes rake over you as your arms came up to cross over your chest.

Sexy, tanned skin accentuated under the complementary blue of your jean tube-top, your jean mini-skirt just long enough to tease, while making your ass look fantastic.

Your lipgloss made your plump lips so soft and inviting, and your eyes were so warm he felt like they heated him from the inside out.

A date didn't sound too damn bad—

"That's enough," he shut down, talking to both you and himself as he began to tug you down the street, leading you to his car.

"Woah-hey! Let me go! This is—!"

Your small fight to wriggle out of his grasp was interrupted as you lost your balance, feet slipping and body flying backward toward the ground.

Luckily, that same pair of strong hands grabbed your waist with a death grip, forcing a gasp out your lips as your hands shot up to cling to his broad shoulders.

Zoro sighed in exasperation, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder as if you were a sack of potatoes.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, continuing his trek down the street until he turned the corner and reached the safety of his pickup.

He'd be damned if he had to deal with a drunk you and a drunk Luffy at the same time.

So, he settled on setting aside an hour of the night trying to find your house, or a friend to drop you off with, then he'd hit up Luffy and grab him at whatever restaurant he managed to clear out.

Foolproof.

"Hey! This is kidnapping!" you squealed as he tossed you in the backseat, shutting the door behind. "I'll call that cop back to get you!"

"And get arrested yourself," he said with a slight chuckle, plopping himself down in the driver's seat and starting the engine.

Glancing at the rear-view mirror, his eyes took another moment to look you over.

You really were beautiful, and seemed close to, if not the same age, as him.

And your little outfit wasn't too bad either.

"Like what you see?" you teased with a smirk, slightly leaning back to give him a better view.

He scoffed as he rolled his eyes, not willing to give you the satisfaction.

"Put your seatbelt on," he ordered.

And although his tone was serious, you didn't miss the tinge of pink on his face.

"Can't," you shrugged, simply. "You're gonna have to help me..."

You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows and puffing your chest so that the man could get a nice look at your cleavage.

Unluckily for you, he knew better that to trust it, letting a tired hand rake through his hair as he realized how much of a pain in the ass this ride was going to be.

"Before, you said you knew a Nami," he grunted, resting his hands on the steering wheel. "That wouldn't happen to be Nami Nami, would it? Y'know, long orange hair, money-hungry, debt collecting?"

You gasped, eyes turning starry, "You know Nami?!"

The man let out a groan, dropping his head onto the horn, the car letting out a long beep as he just sat there, honestly amused by the circumstances.

Why was he not surprised?

Of course you and Nami were friends.

Annoyed, he shifted the truck into drive, pressing his foot on the gas and pulling off in the direction of Nami's house.

Now, not only did he have to drop your ass off, but he also had to pay back Nami the fifty dollars he owed, and then still go back out and grab Luffy.

And it was all thanks to you.

He grumbled to himself, resting his cheek in his palm as his other hand rested on the wheel.

'If I ever meet this woman again, it'll be too soon...'

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #zorosangell #op #zorosangell--lucky punch

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whippedstrawberrycream · 1 month ago

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Stobotnik Week Day 4: Jobs (Another job)

Inspired by stobotnik-on-my-display-bagel's goat farmer/CEO au! This is their first meeting.

Word count: 644

With a bucket of water in each hand, Stone rounded the corner of the barn just as a slick black car sped up the driveway. It came to a suddent halt a short distance away. Stone placed the buckets down as a man exited the vehicle.

The visitor was dressed entirely in black, from his sunglasses down to his leather shoes. They made a crunching sound on the gravel as he made his way over to Stone, and Stone suddenly realised he had a type: tall, pale and handsome.

Also, not at all what he’d expected from a representative of the Robotnik Corporation; he’d been anticipating a short, squat man in a suit carrying a briefcase bulging with legal files.

‘May I help you?’ Stone tentatively asked, wiping his hands on his work apron. He felt unsuitably dressed by comparison.

‘If you can summon the owner in less that five minutes, farm boy, otherwise you are of no use to me,’ the man replied, rather curtly.

‘Oh, I’m actually the owner.’ Stone took a step forward and offered his hand to shake. ‘I’m Stone.’

The man removed his sunglasses. His sharp blue eyes gave him the once over, flicking to Stone’s outstretched hand.

‘Doctor Robotnik,’ he muttered, before stepping past him.

‘Wait…’ Stone began, turning around. Robotnik was peeking into the barn. ‘You’re the CEO?’

‘No, I’m from the U.S. Department of Agriculture and your arid patch of grass is not up to regulation.’ He glanced down at Stone. ‘What do you use this land for?’

‘Uh…goats.’

Robotnik snorted. He pressed a series of buttons on his glove in quick succession and raised his palm up. A blue hologram appeared, a 3D image of a map with labeled terrain.

‘See this, simpleton? This is what I’ve acquired so far - one ranch and two farms. This,’ he continued, highlighting a section of terrain with his finger. ‘Is your little dirt patch. My new headquarters will suit this place very nicely. Now.’ He flicked his fingers and the hologram vanished. ‘You’ve already wasted my time by failing to respond to my letters and emails, so let’s cut to the chase. How much?’

Stone shook his head. ‘I’m not going to se-‘

‘Your neighbouring bumpkins sold their land for me for less than a million each, as I’m sure you’ve heard, because news sure travels fast in this barren wasteland. So, as this is the final piece to complete my corporate takeover, I’m feeling much more generous today. Let’s start the bidding at one million.’

Stone blinked. ‘I can’t-‘

‘One point three.’

‘You can’t just pay me off like-‘

‘Third and final offer, one point three, and I’ll give you an extra five hundred thousand if you vacant within the next thirty days.’

‘That’s…one point eight million?’

‘Oh goody, he can count.’ Robotnik placed his sunglasses back on. ‘That’s more than enough for a goat milker, don’t you think?’

‘I do more than milk them,’ Stone replied, and he felt a little pride stir in his chest. ‘I’m a goat farmer.’

’How riveting,’ Robotnik said sarcastically. ‘What a compelling life you must lead, Stone.’ His voice lowered to something more menacing. ‘Take the offer, or I’ll be back tomorrow.’

Stone sighed. It was a lot of money, more than he’d ever earned in his lifetime. ‘I’m sorry, but can’t just give up my land.’

Robotnik scowled at him. ‘Then you’ve just earned yourself another visit. Be seeing you…but not by choice.’ Robotnik whipped around and stalked back to his car. His swift departure kicked up clouds of dust in the sky.

Stone watched him leave, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Sure, the guy was an asshole, and the type who couldn’t stand to lose. But maybe, just maybe, he was looking forward to the Doctor paying him another visit.

#🐐#stobotnik week #stobotnik

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leoramage · 2 years ago

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my oasis

⊹ masterlist ⊹ taglist ⊹

⊹⊱ trigger warning - [sugardating, mentions of cheating, age gap, tolerating bad behavior, swearing]

⊹⊱ theme - [oblivious to love au]

⊹⊱ pairings - [bestfriend!lewis hamilton x sugarbaby!y/n]

⊹⊱ keywords - [complicated dynamic. "you did some things that you regret, still ride for you." ride or die relationship. "cause my heart belongs to you - i'll risk it all for you." older men are better. "and I can't pretend I don't want you all - 'cause I want you all." ]

In the dimly lit city, your heart ached as the world around you seemed to crumble. Lewis Hamilton, your best friend, had always been there to catch your pieces when life got tough. He was the one person who truly understood you, even the parts you kept hidden from everyone else.

He watched as you lived your life, a life that included sugar-dating older men, a fact that hurt him deeply but he chose to tolerate it, fearing that his feelings would shatter the fragile equilibrium of your friendship. He didn't want to lose you, he had a vacant space in his heart that he didn't want anybody to occupy but you.

"Our arrangement is over, Y/N. I've grown tired of you." You were left broken, vulnerable, and clutching the silk robe around you as if it were your last shield against the cold reality. The apartment felt suffocating, a constant reminder of the lies that had torn your heart asunder. The weight of his words crashed upon you, leaving your heart shattered. In a haze of tears, you packed your belongings and fled his apartment, the silk robe you wore offering little comfort against the cold reality.

Your sugar daddy, a man you had grown attached to in your own way, confessed to betraying your trust with another sugar baby. You stumbled down the stairs, the soft silk of your robe swishing around you as your tears continued to fall. You knew it was going to happen at some point but it all happened too fast like a sharp whiplash on your gut - you weren't able to recuperate properly.

With a shaky breath, you reached for your phone and dialed the one number you knew would never let you down. Sobbing uncontrollably on the sidewalk with your luggage, you waited for Lewis to answer the call, your voice quivering as you recounted the heartache that had befallen you.

Lewis was in the comfort of his penthouse with Roscoe resting on the bed with him when his phone screen flashed open, he saw the call and immediately answered it to find you on the line. "Hello Y/N?" He groggily answered and rubbed his eyes, It was already late at night but he was more concerned about why your voice was shaky as if you had been crying for hours.

You only sigh and keep walking. "Lewis... I'm outside his flat. He cheated on me. Please pick me up, I need you." It was the only words you were able to speak clearly as you were still caught up at the moment, your voice fading into a sob.

He didn't need two more words from you or ask where you are, he didn't spare a second to get out of bed and put on his clothes, and shoes and run downstairs - out of the front door to get on his car. This was you, after all, your safety is his concern. He cared too much for you - way too much for it to be called friendly. You seem to pull on his heartstrings with ease and he'll wear his heart on his sleeve.

He knew he was in love with you. Even if he wasn't subtle about it at times, happy to keep it buried for days, months, and years. But he is near his breaking point, he hates to see you cry over someone who is not worthy of your tears, time, and energy. He was disappointed in you, upset you chose this life and angry that you chose an old man. Only if you'd give a damn about reciprocating his long-simmering feelings and hint at him that you love him, he would be over the moon and never hesitate to give you the whole world if he has to.

"I'm almost there. Wait for me, Y/N." Lewis muttered under his breath, his senses was wide awake despite it being late at night and he was supposed to be resting. Turning the steering wheel and driving as fast as he can as if he was on racing track, his car reaching above miles per hour on some of the high speed roads. Speeding tickets were not of his concern, not at this time. Those fines can be paid later on, but if something happened to you he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

He looks desperately around and sees a familiar figure of a pedestrian on the side of the road. He stops and opens the car door, it turns out to be you. "Y/N!"

He hugs you tight, trying to keep you on your feet while the wind howls around and the car door is still open. Your sobs muffled against his shoulder. He held you, offering you a haven amidst the turmoil.

When you could no longer cry, he guided you to his car and drove you to his penthouse, the ride to his place was still and peaceful until you've arrived. He handed you a fresh set of his clothes and led the way to his living room, where you settled onto the couch then he disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a warm cup of tea that felt like a balm for your soul. Lewis just knew what to do, when to speak and offer you comfort.

"Y/N," he began softly, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you. "I—" his words were cut off by his telephone going off at this hour. He had no idea who would even call him at this hour, but you felt bad for disturbing his rest and now you're here in his penthouse.

"No." Lewis shakes his head, only a few seconds into the call. He sounded firm but calm, whoever was on the other line was not getting the response they wanted from Lewis.

"No. You had your shot and you blew it, I just picked her up off the street because she called me crying. If you can't fix your relationship with her by yourself then that's your problem, not mine." Lewis' eyes were full of disappointment as you discovered to whom he was talking to, there was no need to mention names. He was clearly talking to your former sugar daddy who regretted and is now trying to take you back after confessing he had cheated and had another sugar baby next in line after you.

"You better be sorry!" Lewis called out with a touch of sarcasm and resentment lacing his voice as he conversed over the telephone.

"You break the heart of someone as amazing as Y/N, who would go out of her way to make you feel loved, and now that she needs a shoulder to cry on you come to me?" He scoffs and continues articulating not allowing being talked over.

"You decided it would be better to lie with another woman. No chance do I let you speak to her alone. Not after what you've done to her." You were shocked by the blunt words Lewis was dropping every second, he didn't seem holding back himself by sounding spiteful of the situation.

"You don't get to cheat on a wonderful person like her and then get a second chance, that's not how these things work." These were the words you were happy to hear about - that he is being protective over your wellbeing in general. You were grateful for being best friends with Lewis but you weren't prepared for the next words he had spoken with so much decisiveness.

"She's not yours anymore. She is mine and only mine. I love her."

Not only were you taken aback by Lewis' words that struck you like lightning, goosebumps forming within your skin that were well hidden under the comfortable clothing that he made you borrow. His perfume wafted off the very fabric of the clothing - offering a burst of freshness, reminiscent of vibrant rose petals kissed by the spicy and woody undertones with morning dew, creating a harmonious balance between the floral and the robust. You were still - shellshocked in the comfort of his couch.

Lewis on the other hand was breathing heavily, knowing that you overheard everything he said during the call. With the telephone placed down, you found his chocolate brown eyes staring at you with fear in them - not because he was scared of you - he feared losing you because of his unspoken devotion towards you.

The tension in the air was taut between you as if you could hear a needle dropping against the floor. You heard what Lewis said... and that's how you're going to find out he loved you all this time.

"I've known you for so long, and I've watched you go through so much." He admitted as he took a step towards you with apprehension, observing your reaction despite the obvious.

Your tear-filled eyes met his, a mix of astonishment and bewilderment in your gaze from the revelation. "Lewis?"

He took a deep breath, and knelt in front of you as he sincerely gazed at you - still nervous to confess his long held feelings. "I've kept this to myself because I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship, but I can't hide it anymore..."

"I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you." He mumbled those words as the moonlight cascaded his features, waiting for your words that could make or break the moment.

Your heart skipped a beat as his confession hung in the air, the weight of his words sinking in. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you processed the truth. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you wiped away a stray tear. "Lewis," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion, "I love you too."

At that moment, the barriers that had separated you from each other crumbled away. Lewis's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. a promise of new beginnings and a love that had been waiting in the shadows.

Within a moment, his lips met yours in a soft, hesitant kiss, a sweet collision that sent sparks through your body. The warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his embrace, spoke volumes that words could never capture. The kiss deepened, a gentle exploration of feelings that had been buried for far too long.

Time seemed to stand still as your lips moved in flawless harmony as if they had been designed to find solace in each other's presence. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, caught up in a whirlwind of emotions that had been building over time. Then flashes of memory backtracked in your head like a mixtape, all these times Lewis had cared for you. All this time he was making you special in many ways despite your troublesome behavior and rebelliousness, he was always there to catch you whenever you fell out of grace. He was your rock that you could lean on - one you could trust with your life.

As the kiss finally broke, you found yourselves resting your foreheads against each other's, your breaths intermingling. Lewis's eyes gazed into yours, and within their chasms, you saw not just the reflection of your own emotions, but the promise of a future you had only dared to dream of.

⊰⊹⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋄⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊹⊱

Author's Note: This is oneshot fiction for Lewis that I had dreamt weeks ago. I have the draft of this in my dream journal so I decided to give it a try. For the Lewis girlies who I had shared my feelings about the lack of Lewis fiction. I hope I somehow fill a role and hope this was a nice content that I made, it would be heartwarming if you guys appreciate it through any kind of support! I will still have to patch up some dreams of mine and connect the puzzles to create a proper plot for the other drivers that I have dreamt of. Stay updated! 𔘓ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]𔘓ฅ

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created by the user in response to a creative writing prompt. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, or entities, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The characters, events, and dialogue portrayed in this fanfiction are products of the user's imagination and are not meant to infringe upon any copyrights or trademarks associated with the Formula One sport or any real-life individuals. This fanfiction is solely intended for entertainment purposes, and the author acknowledges that the depicted scenarios are not endorsed, authorized, or supported by any official Formula One entities or the individuals mentioned.

#formula one #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #Spotify

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queen-scribbles · 1 year ago

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The Long Burning Torch ch 9

Heeeere we go, next chapter for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU! ----

Gutter water seeped into Xaeryn's shoes as she misstepped, but she hardly noticed. It was coming up on time for King Kaza and his entourage to reach the Ashtown gate, if she'd guessed right. Please let me have guessed right. It wasn't just a matter of if he was visiting wherever his people had stashed the Torch(and Red), but which gate they would use to pass between districts. There were two, one closer to the king's hotel, the other closer to the theorized goal.

Xaeryn was placing her hopes on someone like Kaza Ackshin wanting to spend as little time in such a rough and tumble place as possible. She studied the passersby and passing vehicles with the same scrutiny, unsure of travel method given when her scry had ended. She was fairly certain they weren't translocating, with how many were in the group and it not being Heron's main skillset, according to Briony.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the rattle of an approaching car engine, heartbeat quickening when she saw it was a gleaming red beast, cleaner and a trifle more elegant than the majority of other vehicles she'd seen. Bold of anyone to take something that ritzy into Ashtown; it was going to get filthy and probably nicked. She peered intently at the interior. The timing worked out, maybe this was--

The was a flash of the bodyguard's silver-white hair in one window, a couple indistinct silhouettes, then a glimpse of King Kaza's profile when he leaned forward to talk to the driver as the car trundled past. Xaeryn caught a sharp breath, let her gaze flick away for just a moment to look for Darius, then glued it back on the automobile. She wanted to let it get a bit more distance before she followed. Ashtown's streets were a rutted mess; you could drive them, but not fast. Regardless, she would need to move soon.

If he's not here in the next five seconds, I'm going alone, she thought grimly, stepping from her hiding place. I warned him-

A shadowy figure rushed toward her, and she started to reach for the dagger in her handbag before green hair registered.

"Half expected not to find a blazin' trace," Darius said, tucking himself out of the car's line of sight with her.

"You were about two seconds from that being the case," Xaeryn returned dryly. "That's their car, we're following."

Darius nodded and the two of them were moving, close to buildings, letting evening shadows swallow them. "Who's with him?"

"The Ket for sure. It looked like Briony as well when I scryed, but I couldn't see for sure and can't confirm she's in the car. I may have seen another guard or two as well, but I was more focused on the king."

Darius grunted. "Maybe we should split. Opposite sides of the street," he pointed out, dodging a pothole. "Better visibility and lower odds we catch their eye."

"Good thinking," Xaeryn nodded, gaze still locked on the hazy silhouette of the car. "Next time there's a long enough shadow or they make a turn-"

Even as she spoke, the car swung into a right turn.

"Go," she hissed, pressing herself close to the building as she rounded the turn after them. For half a second, she was afraid Darius would argue being the one to cross the street, but he didn't, jaw set as he darted to the opposing shadows. They wouldn't be able to talk, but that wasn't really necessary at this point.

Almost a mile from the Smoketown gate, very close to to the outer wall, the car finally braked in front of a mid-sized building, hybrid small warehouse and offices from the look of it. The large doors covering half the front opened and they drove inside. Xaeryn hid herself in a doorway with a good view, saw King Kaza and Heron exit the car. Pink hair made it easy to spot Briony as she followed. So she was here. She and King Kaza both scanned the street, Briony's gaze hitching slightly, before the king said something to someone Xaeryn couldn't see and the doors started to close. Just before it shut she thought belatedly to scan the interior and caught the faint outline of another car. Were they meeting someone? Or was that just an alternate? How many people were in there?

Darius crossed to join her, still skulking in shadow. "So how're we gettin' in, miss snooper?"

She shook her head. He wasn't going to like this. "I need you to go get the authorities."

He bristled. "What?!"

"Now that we have a solid location, back-up wouldn't go amiss." She glanced at him. "There was another car in there. Maybe more than the three of us can handle. We need the police, or better yet, the Shepherds," she amended as a thought occurred. "Magic rigmarole is more in their purview than the police, and their compound is in Ashtown so it's closer."

"Why's it gotta be me?" Darius grumbled obstinately. "Why can't you do it? You'd get there faster, you live here."

He had a point, damn him, but, "Because it's my case, I've been working it for two sennights, and it's my best friend they abducted and I am not breezing when I'm this close!" Xaeryn hissed. "Also, I'm good at sneaking."

He arched a skeptical brow at that claim, glancing her height over, and looked ready to argue further--we don't have time, just do what I'm asking--before nodding with a scowl. "Hael, fine. Where are they?"

"About half a mile." She gave him rapid, grateful directions. "Tell them Miss Shrike's case could use their expertise. I crossed paths with a squad while investigating, my name might mean something."

His scowl deepened, argument still clear in his eyes. "Tell Bry to be careful, huh?" he growled, tugging down his cap as he headed off.

If I get the chance. She had to get inside first, figure out the layout, where things were, how many brunos there were aside from the ones she'd seen. The storage portion of the building looked to be the bottom quarter where they'd parked, leaving the rest of the space for offices and other rooms. A lot to search. And if they were smart...

There. The lookout was lounging against the side of the building, hidden in shadow.

She'd have to approach from the other side, where he was at least partially blind. I wonder if Briony even knows we're here, she mused as she carefully made her way across the street. They wouldn't be able to coordinate to any degree if she didn't know Xaeryn and Darius had followed.

The angle of Xaeryn's approach to avoid the lookout put her on the carport/storage side of the building, which had markedly fewer doors or windows. In fact, aside from the big main doors, she only found one; most of the way down the side wall near the back corner, a tiny window and greasy door, unlit despite the lengthening shadows.

She peered through the window as best she could--inside wasn't much better lit than out here--and reached for the door. She was fairly good with locks, but with no light out here--

The knob turned, unlocked. Xaeryn froze.

Luck? A trap? The One-God looking out for her?

Ultimately it didn't matter because Red was in there. So no matter how fortuitous this was, she was accepting it. She slowly, carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

She was in a back corner of the warehouse space, surrounded by cast-off equipment and crates, along with a few of the latter that lacked dust and were likely more recent additions. Xaeryn waited for her eyes to adjust and started carefully picking her way across the room. She skirted the cars, noting what details she could with the dark.

Including the red accents on the car that had been here when King Kaza arrived.

There were two doors on the far wall that led to the offices, one dark, one with light showing underneath. She went to the former, found it locked. No. The knob turned, the door was warped. Not getting in that way. Not without a great deal of noise. She moved to the other door reluctantly, ears pricked of any sound on the other side that would herald a watchman.

This one was unlocked and opened easily. The light was dimmer than she'd expected, lamps turned low. There was a hallway to her left, bisected by a wall and cracked-open door halfway down. Ahead and slightly to the right was a flight of stairs, with light filtering down from the second floor.

Which way...? Something tense and desperate coiled in Xaeryn's chest as she deliberated the value and risks of each. She could hear the murmur of voices but couldn't tell the direction. I can't just stand here, I need to move.

A glint of something white and shiny caught her eye as she rubbed the back of her neck. Tucked in a crack in the wall a couple steps up the stairs, angled so its paws pointed up, she found the ahfuri figurine Briony had bought at Chandry's.

If that wasn't a clue... Xaeryn gently pried the statuette from the wall and tucked it in her handbag. What could it mean but Briony had seen them following and was trying to help without blowing her cover?

The tread of footsteps filtered down from above and Xaeryn backpedaled down the stairs. She moved swiftly toward the door bisecting the hall as the steps continued heading the stairs, joined by the sound of conversation. She slipped through the cracked-open door and stood behind it, hoping the people were just heading for the warehouse.

There was the creak of a door opening, then the low murmur of voices too quiet to overhear cut off as it closed. They were gone. She waited a couple minutes all but holding her breath, then stepped back through. It was a relief to see the hall empty. They're probably watching the cars.

Xaeryn chewed the inside of her cheek as she made her way up the stairs, tensed every step for them to creak or break or give her away. A more patient and canny dame might've waited for King Kaza to leave so there were fewer guards to avoid. But she couldn't. Not this time, not while they had Red. It was her fault he'd been abducted, like blazing hael she was going to leave him one second longer than she had to. Especially not knowing what lengths these goons would go to get what they wanted, or what they'd do after. She had her suspicions, though, and those had her pulse pounding in her ears.

She reached the top of the steps, carefully checking for guards as she went and seeing none. They must be in the rooms, to stay with their charges. She needed to find out if anyone was here besides King Kaza or if that car was simply an alternate for his people.

But if he was already following me before the gala, why did he act like we'd never met? Let me spin the yarn about Circe Blackwood? Was he just toying with me?

Riddles for later. For now she wanted to find Red, find the Torch--yes, God help her, in that order--and get out of here. Finding enough evidence or otherwise managing to implicate King Kaza--and Jarkyth, if he was involved--would be a lovely bonus. But her job was the Torch and her goal was Red and hopefully Darius wouldn't have too much trouble convincing the Shepherds.

Xaeryn paused to take stock. This was a tricky spot; hallway ahead of her and one coming in as a blind corner to her right. The room almost straight in from of her looked larger than the others lining the hall. And there was something about the lights... Aside from the ones at the head of the stairs, they seemed dim, with a barely noticeable flicker that set her teeth on edge and had an ache starting in her temples, faint but annoying.

Alright, let's see... There were three rooms along the left of the hall ahead, the larger room and blind corner on the right, and who knew how many more rooms down that righthand hall. Well, that's what you need to find out. If there are rooms with no windows, those would make the most sense for stashing a stolen artefact and a captive.

She'd passed the first of the left hand rooms when she heard voices to the right. She stepped rapidly into the second room, pressing herself against the wall by the door. Thank God it was unlocked.

"...more stubborn than anticipated." That was King Kaza, tone a mix of amusement and frustration. "He maintains he cannot read it."

"Well, that's hokum," a woman replied, voice cultured, steely, and unfamiliar. "Th' gumshoe looked me in th' eye and said he'd helped develop it."

Red. They were talking about Red. And from the woman's comment... Xaeryn bit her lip and peeked around the doorframe. The woman must be the Shifter. It would be good to know what she looked like when she wasn't masquerading as Ms. Aerin.

Hopefully with this room being unlit Xaeryn wouldn't be easy to spot. It allowed a look down the blind corner hall, and she could just make out the king standing at a juncture with another perpendicular hall, but the woman was out of view.

King Kaza chuckled. "Did she? Very good, Syra." He stroked his chin. "I must again relay my thanks for your aid to our patron. You have been invaluable."

The woman, Syra, snorted a laugh. "Just keep your end of our deal and that will be thank enough for us both." She shifted, moving enough into view Xaeryn could see long silky blue-black hair decorated with narrow braids. "So what're we doing about him?"

"Leave him. Let him think we believe his claim. He is not going anywhere." King Kaza gestured toward one of the doors and Xaeryn's heart skipped a beat. "In an hour, at most, we shall revisit to clarify our resolve and the... nature of his predicament." His fingers drummed the hilt of dagger at his belt and Xaeryn nearly reached for hers.

You hurt him and I swear-- She grit her teeth, which made the headache worse.

"You're the boss," Syra said, shrugging, as the two of them headed into the larger room. "Sort of. If you think it's the best way..."

Xaeryn barely managed to wait a three-count after they were gone before she started back out the door. And then stopped. She should probably check out this room while she was here. Just in case circumstance didn't allow for her coming back, to be sure. But Red.

A quick look. If nothing pops out I'm going, she compromised. He's so close. She tried to summon a witchlight, but her focus was too rattled and the soft flame wouldn't come. She used the faint light from the window instead. Nothing caught her eye. In fact, the room was almost empty.

Relieved both that she could mentally check it as searched and that doing so hadn't taken long, Xaeryn moved with the bare minimum of caution to the door King Kaza had indicated. It was locked, of course. And she'd been in too much of a tizzy when she left to grab her picks.

She gnawed her lower lip, glaring at the lock as if she could foil it through force of will. To be so close and stymied by something so simple... it was making her head hurt, a sense of urgency crawling under her skin.

Xaeryn swiveled to look for something she could maybe use, evidence of an unlocked room where she could look, and came up empty for the hallway. But the dull glint of something in her peripheral reminded her of another option.

Her brooch. The bronze sun Chandry had given her. If the lock was simple enough, it just might work. And really, a run of the mill office building was unlikely to have shelled out for anything fancy, and it had been languishing in disrepair for who-knew-how-long before King Kaza appropriated it.

She plucked the sun from her blouse, flipping out the surprisingly sturdy-looking straight pin. God, please let this work. One last look to confirm no one was coming, no voices heralded a need to hide, and she knelt to start working.

It was, thank God, a rudimentary lock, but it had been quite a while since she picked one with makeshift tools and she bit her lip in concentration as she finagled it. Come on, come o-

She gasped as a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her abruptly to her feet.

The bruno holding her arm scowled. "How'd you get in here?"

Xaeryn closed her hand around the brooch, the pin and the sun's rays digging into her palm as she gathered her composure. "Through the door."

"Oh, think you're cute," the guard growled. He was a solidly built muti; how blinkered had she been to not hear him coming? "You can tell it to the boss."

"Love to," Xaeryn retorted, even as her heart pounded. No way she could take him in a fight, not by herself. But if Briony was with King Kaza, or if she could drag her feet long enough for Darius to get back with the Shepherds(hopefully), maybe there was a chance.

The guard just sneered at her retort and hauled her toward the room she'd seen King Kaza and Syra enter. He did seem slightly surprised she wasn't fighting harder.

She wanted to. She wanted to break free, incapacitate him, and free Red. But she knew her limits, and handling a brute like this in a dust-up was beyond them. So she played along and prayed for a solution.

Sizing up the room on their arrival wasn't a promising situation. King Kaza and Syra stood in line with the door, the latter leaning slightly against a dilapidated desk as they conversed. There were two other guards in the room--Heron and the one she'd seen in the car--but she didn't see Briony.

Xaeryn tensed and tried to make herself relax as King Kaza broke off his conversation with Syra to arch a brow at her arrival. "Miss Blackwood. I cannot wait to hear what you thought to find here." He smirked. "I imagine it's quite a tale."

"I can start it for her," Syra said, eyes narrowed. "Her name's not Blackwood; this is the snooper. The one after the Torch. Miss Shrike."

"That's me," Xaeryn said, looking around the room and trying to calm--or at least hide--her pounding heart. "You had quite the ingenious method of acquiring it, I must say. Real brain twister." She glanced at Heron, standing with arms crossed near a dusty bookcase that jutted into the room. This must've been a clerical space, record-keeping and multiple secretaries sharing the room. In a fight with back up she could make good use of a space like this, with the multiple desks, cabinets, and shelves. "Almost stumped me."

"And yet here you are," a new voice said, low and almost hypnotizing. "I wonder if we should credit that to your ingenuity or your determination, Miss Shrike." The speaker strode into view from around the bookcase, a shorter man with piercing black eyes and styled dark hair, wearing a suit that probably cost more than she made in a year. No introduction was necessary; he was instantly recognizable to any devotee of the One-God. Talquist Jarkyth. The Western Hierophant.

"I'm more inclined to think it's a combination," Xaeryn countered. No way was she getting her heart to slow now. Her head was still pounding, too.

"You knew she was on our trail and didn't loop me in?!" King Kaza demanded. "We-"

"There was no need," Jarkyth cut him off sharply. "I had people on it. Too many would have defeated efforts at subtlety." He chuckled. "You have proven a most tenacious and clever example of your profession, Miss Shrike. How odd that you have stumbled here, at the end."

"Stumbled, how?" she asked. It was, most likely, futile to play dumb. But if he could toy with her, she could do the same. If he'd had people on her, and was here now, odds were good the car with red accents was his.

"Coming here alone, not waiting for the building to be unoccupied before you entered." He steepled his fingers and tsked. "I was very close to being impressed. I wonder what might've changed to spark such a misstep."

This time Xaeryn ignored his hinting completely, despite the sinking in her gut, turning instead to King Kaza. "Don't tell me you believe the bunk about the Torch making you invulnerable."

"And who decided it is 'bunk'? Civilized, modern scholars?" King Kaza scoffed. "We know it has an effect on magic, and legends are born from truth."

"And embellishment," she countered, mind racing at that tidbit. What kind of effect? "And even the original tribe didn't remain invulnerable." She shifted and the guard tightened his grip on her arm. Right. He was still there.

"But they did have good fortune and protection, by all accounts. And it is a tie to the land regardless." he crossed his arms. "My plans to establish myself in Jalis will go significantly more smoothly with tangible proof of my belonging, and the Torch should be mine by rights."

"You can't prove that, which is why you resorted to stealing it." Xaeryn glanced around the room. Where the hael was Briony? "Do you think people won't find that out?"

"The Jalis runs on conquest, Miss Shrike. Merely by holding the Torch I will prove my rights to it. And then prove my strength. It is, in fact, lucky for me that you are here." He sat on the edge of the desk, smirking. "While Syra has been invaluable, and what she learned from you was useful confirmation" --the Shifter matched his smirk and Xaeryn grit her teeth--"it will be even more useful for you to regale us with anything else you've learned of the pendant's capabilities. And before you try to claim you may not remember everything, I have something to help with that." He tapped one of the desk drawers and gave her a meaningful look.

Xaeryn's fingers curled in. He had to mean her notepad. "Reading or reciting, why would I give you information that would help you subjugate others?" she asked, surprised how level she kept her voice. The brooch was digging into her hand. "I'd never be able to live with myself."

"I believe you." King Kaza flashed a shark-like grin. "I also believe you know you aren't our only, hm, guest."

Her heart dropped to her toes, hands clenching tighter as she struggled to limit her reaction. The brooch was digging into her hand, almost deep enough to draw blood.

He leaned back against the desk. "How well would you live with yourself, detective, if harm befell him thanks to your actions--or lack thereof?"

Xaeryn was only vaguely aware of a door opening and closing behind her, fury boiling too hot to temper. "You lay a finger on him--"

The guard's grip tightened and King Kaza's grin widened. "That is exactly where I thought we could start, actually. It gives you several chances to reconsider before your friend has suffered too much." His gaze drifted over her shoulder. "Excellent timing, Stormbreaker."

She hoped he read only fury in her jaw's twitch at the words.

"Did you need me, highness?" There was a faintly brittle twang in Briony's voice.

"As you see, we caught a trespasser." King Kaza gestured to Xaeryn. When his gaze shifted away, she realigned the brooch in her grasp.

If their focus all stayed on Briony and the king, maybe she could grip it right to use as a weapon and escape the guard's grasp. It was the closest thing she had; her handbag had dropped in the hall when the guard grabbed her.

"I do see," Briony said. "How's that matter to me?"

"I think it will be most enlightening to get her and our captive in the same room." He pushed off the desk.

"Kaza, dispense with the dramatics and do what needs doing," Jarkyth said coldly. "Pageantry has its place, but this is not it, not on a schedule like ours."

"Yes, your grace. Stormbreaker, you and I will take her, the rest can check for any other interlopers."

She had the sun aligned, thumb pressing the hinge to keep the pin jutting out. There would be no coordination, hopefully she and Briony could make this work. She didn't even know the other woman's fighting style; if she leaned more toward straight brawling or had some level of finesse.

Briony stepped closer, her hand settling on Xaeryn's arm just above the elbow. It was a mirror of the other guard's grip, which he loosened seeing the king's bodyguard take possession of the prisoner.

Briony caught Xaeryn's gaze for a heartbeat, then in one fluid motion dragged her several steps to the side and punched the guard in the face.

He went down with a squawk and crunch of bone that heralded a broken nose. Heron and the other other guard proved to have the fastest reflexes, and even they hesitated a beat before closing in. Xaeryn wheeled on the guard as Briony staggered Hereon with a kick to the gut.

With a prayer and a hard jab, she aimed the brooch pin at the guard's face--and got lucky; the pin caught the soft hollow at the corner of his eye. She twisted in to shoulder check him and sent him crashing over one of the desks.

The nape of her neck tingled with a sense of danger and Xaeryn ducked to the left, almost running onto a bookshelf but feeling the breeze of a missed punch. She pivoted to see Syra already swinging again, the silver glint of punching daggers clenched in each hand.

Xaeryn knocked the blow aside with the back of her wrist, already-bruised hand complaining at the strike. She grit her teeth to ignore it and snapped her knee up toward Syra's stomach.

Syra dodged backward and swiped again. The punching dagger sliced the shoulder of Xaeryn's blouse but didn't catch skin. She was vaguely aware of Kaza launching himself at Briony, knife in each hand and growling oaths about treachery.

Xaeryn pressed her advantage--if you could call it that--to close in and force Syra back against the desk. The Shifter rolled along the edge, taking a swing as she did. This one slashed a shallow cut into Xaeryn's forearm when she blocked and Syra smirked even as she retreated a step at the desk's corner for space. Xaeryn shook out the sting, but before she retaliated she caught the clatter of shifting wood and quietly growled curses.

She ducked backwards with perfect timing for the guard she'd incapacitated before to go barreling between her and Syra. His momentum from the miss carried him into the window and he vanished from sight with a tremendous shattering of glass and dismayed yell.

Syra punched at Xaeryn and in her half-distracted state it was pure instinct she managed to block it. Syra immediately followed with the other hand, and Xaeryn caught her wrist to redirect the blow back at her. The punching dagger drove into the base of Syra's neck.

She gave a choked grunt and took one last feeble swing at Xaeryn as she swayed, before crumbling across the desk.

Xaeryn took a breath, turned to see how Briony was faring--

A hand clamped on the back of her neck and flung her across the room.

She yelped as she ricocheted off the corner of the desk before hitting the floor and narrowly avoided banging her head hard enough to see stars. The brooch went skittering away at the impact, depriving her of any weapon.

"You bitch!" Heron snarled, following with a faint glow building around his fists.

Xaeryn shook off the daze and scrambled backwards. A vicious kick aimed at her ribs caught her thigh instead.

She kicked back, catching his ankle and making him stagger. It only gave her a second of breathing room, but that second got her halfway to her feet and more mobile to avoid his next attack.

The was pretty much her only strategy against Battle Mages; dodge until they got tired and she got lucky. Given Heron wasn't her first opponent in this fight--and he was bloody furious--she wasn't sure that was going to work this time.

He grabbed a fistful of her blouse and shoved her back into a bookshelf.

Almost definitely not going to work this time.

There was scuffling, a distressed "Xaeryn!" from Briony, and the unmistakable thud of something hitting the back of Heron's head.

But it wasn't the pink-haired warrior standing behind him when he staggered under the blow.

It was Red, white knuckle grip on the 2x4 he wielded and worry blazing in his eyes as he whacked Heron once more for good measure. Hard enough it broke the board in the process and sent the man crumpling to the floor.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment before the board hit the ground and they lunged forward, Red's hands gripping her shoulders and Xaeryn's cupping his jaw and both blurting, "Are you alright?!"

How are you here-?!

Before either could answer, however, Briony bolted past for the door. "Xaeryn, Jarkyth!!"

Xaeryn groaned and reluctantly pulled herself away from Red to help with pursuit. He was alive, and she hadn't seen any serious injuries. A more thorough inventory could wait.

Briony was already thundering down the stairs, unnaturally fast. Halfway down behind her, Xaeryn could see the door hanging open and her heart sank. "Watch out!" she hollered, catching movement as one of the downstairs guards charged down the hall at Briony. He caught her around the waist and slammed her into a wall, but dropped with a yelp when she elbowed him in the face.

It still slowed her enough Xaeryn caught up, and the two of them burst out the door at almost the same moment.

To find an empty street.

"Dammit!" Briony growled, kicking the dirt. She clasped her hands against the back of her head, fingers tangling in her ponytail. "If I'd gotten Kaza down just a second faster..."

Xaeryn shook her head. "No sense in playing what if." She surveyed the streets, but His Grace must've been really hotfooting it; there was no sign.

Briony sucked her teeth. "He might have the Torch, Xaeryn. He had enough of a headstart to grab it b'fore he rabbited."

Her heart dropped at the thought. For all her work, the risk she'd brought to Red, to be for nothing in the end... "Is there a way we can check? Did you see where they were keeping it?"

Briony nodded, letting her hands fall. "I did, t'night."

Headlights swung into view from a sidestreet, the truck they belonged to very clearly headed their way, and both women froze.

"Briony!" a familiar voice called from the back, and Darius jumped down before the vehicle had come to a complete stop.

"Coulda used ya about twenty seconds ago, D," Briony chided, but she was still grinning as she gave him a hug and a shoulder punch in quick succession. "Jarkyth scarpered."

"Had t' convince the backup I was on the level," he said gruffly, returning the hug and swaying from the shoulder punch. "Captains Trick and Emroth." He jerked a thumb at the two women climbing down from the cab of the now-halted truck.

"We've met," Xaeryn said dryly. She was grateful not to have Trick's pistol leveled at her chest this time. And she left off her recollection she and Captain Emroth--Iorwen--were school acquaintances. She had bigger concerns at the moment. "Most of us," she amended as a hulking blond Ket hopped from the back of the truck.

"Oh, this is Daren," Trick said with a wave in his direction. "He's a new recruit an' we figured this would be good field experience. You can sweep around the building, Daren, look for any tryin' to sneak off."

"The ones inside are mostly unconscious or at least incapacitated" --she didn't know what shape Briony left the king in--"but you'll still want to keep alert."

"Always," Captain Emroth said as she headed for the building. "Hear you had a friend kidnapped?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Red."

A muscle twitched in Iorwen's jaw as that sank in. "I'll take care of him," she promised, disappearing inside before Xaeryn could explain he's gotten free somehow, he'd come swooping to her rescue somehow, just make sure he's alright.

Leaving aside that Iorwen--Captain Emroth; this was an official setting--was someone she'd trust enough to let her job take focus under the circumstances, she still needed to go back inside. "I think the artefact I'm looking for might still be in there," Xaeryn said to Trick. "The... true butter and egg man of this heist got away, but there are some vital members among the incapacitated."

"Oh, we'll help with collectin' them," Briony interjected. "I know how many there should be." She grabbed Darius by the sleeve and started dragging him inside.

"Briony," Xaeryn started, hustling after them and vaguely wondering how the woman still had so much energy, "where's the Torch?"

"Oh, right. Upstairs, across the hall from where they were keepin' your friend and down one door toward the further end," Briony rattled off.

They nearly ran into Red in the upstairs hallway, his brows twitching at the sight of extra people. "I, ah, tied up the ones I could," he said, gesturing back toward the room before running his hand through his hair. It helped even less than usual, and Xaeryn was torn between a fond smile at the tousled mess and a wince at how exhausted he looked beneath the general dishevelment and--thankfully minor--injuries.

"Good thinkin," Briony said, still holding Darius' sleeve as she angled toward the room.

"And you're with me," Captain Emroth said with a faint smile. She lightly rested one hand on Red's arm and tugged him to the side.

"Ryn-" Red started to protest.

"Is still working," Captain Emroth finished for him, catching Xaeryn's eye as she and Trick started for the hall Briony had mentioned, "I'm sure that'll change in a few minutes, but for now we're worrying about you..."

Xaeryn didn't hear any more, as she and Trick had turned down the hallway. The door Briony had indicated was cracked slightly ajar. Oh, God, please no. Not after everything.

"You said you think it's in here?" Trick asked.

Xaeryn nodded, braced for the worst as she reached to swing the door open. "There's a chance the one who escaped took it, but I'm hoping not."

"Why won't you give this vanishin' man's name?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xaeryn said wryly as she stepped into the room. There were only a few crates in the room, most covered with dust and undisturbed. The only one that looked promising for her was still closed. Maybe it's still here.

"Try me," Trick deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

"Talquist Jarkyth."

A snort. "You don't think I'd believe a politician's involved in shady dealings? How long have you lived in this city again?"

"He's also a religious leader who's made a show of piety. Many will likely find it a hard truth to swallow." She opened the crate and the faint headache she'd been ignoring since her arrival pulsed harshly.

But that was small potatoes compared to the sight of what lay in the crate, bronze ornamentation glinting dully in the half-light, easily recognized from all the time she'd spent staring at photographs.

Solimer's Torch.

Relief and elation spiraled in her chest as she reached for the artefact. It was still here, Jarkyth hadn't made off with it, she could fulfill her contract with Mr. Syndran-

The metal burned when her fingers brushed it and she snatched her hand back with a hiss.

Trick pushed off the doorframe, frowning at her. "What's wrong?"

Xaeryn shook her head--she had a theory but didn't want to say it without proof. "Can I borrow those?" She indicated the thick leather gloves tucked in the captain's belt.

"Oh, sure." Trick tugged them free and passed them over.

"Thank you." Xaeryn slipped one on before reaching into the crate again. The muffling layer did the trick, protecting her from the burning sensation, and she carried it out to the better-lit hallway, which confirmed her suspicion. This was not obsidian, though it was similar enough in coloration she could understand how people were fooled. Particularly Norm scholars, to whom it would be just another lump of rock.

It was thoret.

That answers several questions and raises almost as many new ones. Xaeryn fought down the urge to hold it at arm's length, nausea crawling in her stomach.

"That's your artefact?" Trick wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it."

"For good reason." Xaeryn pulled her gaze away from the talisman. "Captain, do you have any sort of warded containment unit in your truck?"

Trick nodded. "Let me--" there was a tread of footsteps downstairs-- "get him to get it. Daren?"

"Aye," floated up a grunted reply.

"Go grab one of the small blanker boxes, huh?"

"Yes, captain." His footsteps retreated.

As they waited, Briony emerged from the main room hauling a bound and protesting Kaza Ackshin, who was raising a ruckus that even if she was working with the Shepherds, he wasn't a citizen of Haven, local authorities had no right--

"The Shepherds might be based in Haven, but we aren't limited to Haven," Trick hollered after in interruption, and Kaza glared daggers at her before Briony manhandled him down the stairs.

Daren came up after they'd passed but before Darius followed with one of the guards. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Trick said, taking the case, roughly half the size of a breadbox, with a nod. "Good work sweeping for baddies. See if there's anyone in there you can take, and go guard the ones in the truck."

He nodded and headed for the room.

"Here we go, miss detective," Trick said, steadying the box so Xaeryn could nestle the Torch inside it.

"Thank you." Xaeryn placed the Torch in the box and closed it. The gnawing-headache sensation almost immediately diminished. She'd have to ask how these worked later; that was impressive enchantment or technology or both. "I should get this back where it belongs," she said through her sigh of relief as she took the box from Trick.

But her feet were reluctant to move, her gaze drifting over to where Red was. Not that she doubted Captain Emroth's skill, but a very large part of her desperately wanted to make sure for herself that he was alright before she left. Even knowing how elated Mr. Syndran would be to see the Torch was reclaimed.

"Wen'll take good care of him," Trick interjected, having seen where he attention lingered. "She's a first rate doctor, if he needs patchin' up--speakin' of, you want me to take care of your arm?" she nodded toward the shallow gash. "An' if he's the one who was kidnapped we'll need to ask him a few questions, but we won't keep him long."

Xaeyn nodded in response to... several things from that torrent, shifting the case with the Torch to clutch it close. "Captain Emroth and I attended the same school; I'm well-acquainted with her skill as a doctor and sure she's more than capable." Doesn't change wanting to confirm for myself, it's Red. "But if you're willing, I probably should get this patched up before I leave." She held up the injured arm. For appearances if nothing else, considering where I need to go. I look enough a fright without an open wound.

"Oh, I don't even need to go that involved." Trick jerked a thumb at herself. "Elae."

Ah. Xaeryn cracked a tired smile. "I imagine that comes in handy in your line of work."

"'Specially when Trouble Alder's your partner," Trick muttered, but the fond smile playing at her lips undercut any exasperation on the comment. She extended her hand, stopping only an inch or so from Xaeryn's arm. "May I?"

Xaeryn nodded, Trick clasped her arm murmuring quietly, and when she withdrew the wound was gone. Not so much as a scar.

"Thank you, you're quite good at this," Xaeryn commented, examining the skin. The Torch's case sat heavy in her arm. She glanced over at Red again. "I'm going to say farewell and I'll be out of your hair." She knew Mr. Syndran and sometimes Ms. Aerin worked late, but she didn't want to push it. "I'll return the case as soon as I can."

"You're welcome, and no rush, we have plenty," Trick said, moving to help as Briony and Darius returned to bundle the rest of the goons out of the building.

Xaeryn found her throat suddenly, thoroughly dry as she approached Red and Captain Emroth. "Pardon, I know you need to talk to him, but could I have just a minute first?"

Something danced in Iorwen's eyes as she nodded and stepped back. "Sure, you can have a minute."

Tempted as she was to fold him into a hug, there were too many other people coming and going and she was holding something in one arm, so she took Red's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm glad you're alright." I was so afraid you wouldn't be.

"Me, too," he said with a soft laugh, squeezing her hand back. "More glad you are."

She arched a brow. "I'm not the one who got abducted, Liefred," she said dryly.

"No, you were just part if a brawl with very bad odds," he drawled in counterpoint. He scratched the back of his neck and she stared at the scrape on his forearm. "I know fisticuffs aren't your forte, Ryn, even if you can handle yourself."

Xaeryn gave a soft laugh, even as she looked him over. Scrapes and rope-chafe on his arms, bruise on his forehead, nasty but scabbing split lip. "On that note, thank you for the save."

Red nodded, looking at her with something indecipherable in his eyes. "Of course." The look changed to a playful glint. "Not every day I get to play the hero." He rubbed the back of his head as he watched Briony haul the still-unconscious Heron downstairs. "He had it coming."

"Goose egg for a goose egg?" Xaeryn asked glibly.

He laughed. "Something like that."

They both caught a sharp breath--but tried to hide it--at the realization his thumb was rubbing absent arcs against the heel of her hand.

Xaeryn cleared her throat, painfully aware of Iorwen--Captain Emroth--nearby, surely hearing even if she was pretending to be busy. "I need to take this back while there's a chance of there being someone in the Merchants' Guild offices," she said, giving the case a gentle jostle, "and I understand Captain Emroth needs to speak with you, but if you want to drop by tomorrow we could talk."

Sun above, do we need to talk.

"I'd like that," Red said softly, then gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Assuming I don't sleep the day away."

"If you do, just come the day after," she shrugged, smiling playfully. "I'll always make time for you."

He gave a soft laugh. "Good to know. But hopefully I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hopefully," Xaeryn confirmed. Her heart pounded as he seemed just as reluctant to let go as she was.

"Make sure you get sleep too, Xaer," Red murmured.

"I promise," she nodded, then gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go, her fingers curling as she strode out of the building and through Ashtown's streets, heading for more civilized districts and ultimately, Merchants' Guild headquarters.

It had been a very long day, and she would be glad to put it behind her. ----

Next chapter for answers and tying up loose ends👀 and I think we're done! :D

#queens fic #shoh #tlbt #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #briony #iorwen emroth #ryn/red

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cannibalsforbreakfast · 1 year ago

Text

Cruel Summer - Chapter 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The "Eddie Munson is a speedway racer" high school AU no one asked for, but you're getting it anyways. Enemies to friends to lovers | No-Upsidedown AU | Fast cars, fast times | Reader moved from "the city" to Hawkins

Tags [will be updated as things progress]: swearing, underage drinking, dangerous driving, Jason sucks as usual, mentions of weed, light angst, misunderstandings, reader is afab, not sure if I'll have smut yet or not, no use of y/n

CH2: 4k

-- -- --

Strange voices are saying (What did they say?) /

Things I can't understand”

Three days later, Robin was still – for some godforsaken reason – trying to get you to give Eddie another chance. Really, you didn’t know why.

You’d stomped back the full two miles from the track to your aunt and uncle’s house out of sheer stubbornness, needing to walk off your anger. Robin had gone with you as far as the main road, but then doubled back to get the car. She’d offered to drive you back, too – obviously – but you’d waved her off. To be honest, you were also a little upset with her for having such a shitty friend. And his actions weren’t her fault, to be sure, but you knew that if you’d gotten in the car you’d just have taken out your feelings on her.

You’d hoped the walk would have given you a chance to cool off, but it had almost achieved the exact opposite. By the time you’d gotten back nearly an hour later, you were hot and sweaty, streaked with brownish dust from the track and in a decidedly foul mood. Unlike the city, Hawkins, Indiana, didn’t have much to recommend it in the way of visual appeal – just a lot of single-story bungalows and long stretches of straight road, broken up with occasional copse of woods. What it did give you was a lot of time to think.

Think about how quick Eddie had been to dismiss you as someone so obviously beneath him, you could only have been a hooker. Sure, you were familiar enough with ignoring cat-calls on street corners and appreciative whistles on the rare occasion you went out, but the near instant disregard the racer had for you was something entirely new. And it had gotten under your skin. He’d gotten under your skin.

Not that there’s anything wrong with sex work, you’d rationalized to yourself during a short pause to work out a sharp stone that had found its way into one of your shoes. Perfectly respectable profession. Oldest job in the world.

Maybe you were so upset because Robin and Steve had been so welcoming, you couldn’t see why they’d be friends with someone like that. And it made you question if they also thought that way about you, that their kindness had just been a veneer over the same sort of scorn, and then you felt guilty that you’d even doubt your cousin like that. Robin wore her heart on her sleeve, and you knew she couldn’t put on an act like that.

The resounding conclusion was – even if you thought he was sex incarnate and in any other world would have been interested in learning how silky his hair was, or if his lips were as soft as they looked, or if the hint of tattoo at his collar bone was just a trick of the light – that you didn’t need to spend any more time with Eddie, thank you very much.

Robin, your darling cousin, however, clearly had her mind fixed on reconciliation.

You were sprawled on the floor of her room, carefully painting your nails a sort of reddish-pinkish-orangish color. Robin was lying on her bed, scootched far enough over her head dangled off the edge, upside-down. You found her room comfortable, homey. Even if she had a strange obsession with tacking movie posters to her walls – “Sixteen Candles,” “The Blue Lagoon,” “Alien,” and “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Maybe she got them for free from her shift at Family Video.

“Look, I know Eddie had a bad first impression,” she started.

“Robin, he thought I was a hooker, ” you interjected.

“And yeah that’s bad ,” she agreed. “He was a dick. Absolutely, total asshole, But I promise he’s not usually like that.”

You finished off the pinky on your left hand and scrutinized your work, blowing gently to help the coat dry. You swapped the cap and brush to your other hand and started on your right thumb, tongue poking out slightly in concentration – this was always the harder side.

“If I’m just here for the summer, I don’t need to be spending my time with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Robin huffed, ruffling her shaggy bangs. “He just has…stuff going on. Trust issues? He’s nice once you get to know him.”

“We all have trust issues, that’s not an excuse for bad behavior.” You finished off your non-dominant hand and gave your nails a critical look, looking for smudges. “And all of this is stuff you’re just saying about him, it’s not like it’s proof or anything.”

An altogether too-scary smile spread across your cousin’s face.

“Soooo,” she said, “hypothetically, then, if you could get proof that Eddie was actually nice, then you’d give him another friendship chance?”

You rotated to give Robin a decidedly suspicious stare. What was she up to? “I suppose…” you said slowly.

She clapped her hands together, rolling over to her stomach and kicking her legs in glee. “Then it’s decided, we’re going to a party at Jason’s this Saturday.”

You blinked, dumbfounded. “Um, and why would we do that?”

“Because it will be fun. And Eddie will be there, so you can interact in a more normal-person way and see that he’s not a total dick and then this weirdness can end and we can all hang out over the summer like normal friends who aren’t fighting,” Robin proclaimed triumphantly.

A sense of dread sank into your chest. This was not exactly how you’d planned this conversation to go. But given Robin’s unbridled glee, you didn’t really see how you could get out of it. Well, you could point-blank refuse to go – you didn’t think Robin could physically force you there. But then again, you had to actually live with her the whole summer and didn’t need that disagreement to put a damper on your slowly flowering cousinly friendship as well.

Plus, you knew the effect first impressions had, even when they were wrong.

Especially if they were wrong.

So fine, you’d go to this party and give Eddie another chance. And if he was a dick, again ? Well, you could at least tell Robin you tried.

“Fiiiiiiiiine,” you gave in. “We can go. But Robin, don’t you usually hate parties?”

Your cousin colored faintly. “Well, yeah, they’re not usually my thing. But Nancy will be there. She’s a friend, and I said I’d go to hang out because she doesn’t always like them either but Jason is in her class so she felt she had to go and I didn’t want to let her down.”

You nodded sagely as your cousin continued to ramble on. If her predilection for movies starring attractive women suddenly made much more sense to you, you didn’t need to let on.

Saturday rolled around far sooner than you would have liked. Despite Robin’s optimism and what you thought was misguided faith, you didn’t actually have that much experience at school parties (these would have necessitated invitations, which – due to your less-than-stellar social status – weren’t in huge supply back in the city). But you figured the fact you were someone new, and not from Hawkins, would grease the social wheels at least a little bit.

Plus Robin’s insistence you had to look “hot as fuck” wasn’t hurting, either. She’d raided each and every one of the suitcases you’d brought for the perfect party outfit, ultimately forcing you into a dress you’d impulse-bought one weekend when you’d been flush with parental-guilt Christmas money. It was short, red and – you knew from one ill-advised and slightly desperate makeout by the bleachers after one school dance you had bothered to go to – hugged your curves in all the right ways. She also insisted you find an exact color match for your lipstick, eyeing you critically as you swiped the shade over the plush of your lips, then dabbing off the excess with a small piece of tissue paper. Honestly, for someone whose own style was more “vintage grandpa” than “harlot” she was highly involved in your aesthetic for the evening.

You stepped back from the mirror, fluffing your hair a bit. OK, so maybe you didn’t look half bad. And it was good to dress up every now and again, you rationalized to yourself. Do something different.

When you and Robin finally pulled up in her car across the street from a classic red brick, multistory house in what was certainly the nicer side of town, the party was already in full swing.

“Exactly to plan,” Robin said as you both scootched out of your seats. You surreptitiously checked the back of your dress to make sure it was still covering all the essential bits before following her up to the mansion. Bits of the party had spilled out the front door and onto the precisely manicured lawn, with teens in various states of inebriation flopped on the grass and giggling. Sounds of someone retching could be heard from behind a bush.

The two of you slipped through the unlocked front door and instantly you were confronted with a wave of bodies and booze. There was a game of beer pong being played on what looked like a highly expensive wooden table in the dining room, and the kitchen was cluttered with classic red solo cups and bowls of mysterious punch. Music pumped from speakers, and everywhere there were clusters of people in twos and threes, chatting and “accidentally” brushing up against each other.

It was a lot, and you blinked in a dazed fashion at the heaving display of humanity in front of you.

“I FOUND NANCY,” Robin yelled in your ear, dragging you back to the present moment. “LET’S GO.”

Your cousin strode purposefully off to the kitchen and you followed in her wake. A pretty doe-eyed girl with brown curls cascading down her back gave Robin a sweet smile as you approached. You could see why your cousin was – in all likelihood – smitten.

“Hey Robin, you made it,” the girl said. “Is this your cousin?”

“Yeah, hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you said, giving Nancy a small wave. “Feels like the whole town’s here.”

“Oh yeah, Jason’s parties are legendary,” she agreed. “Especially since his parents head away for a couple weeks every summer. Do you want some punch? I couldn’t tell you what’s in it, but it smells alright.”

“Sure.” She ladeled some of the pinkish liquid into a cup and handed it to you. Sniffing, you could smell a decent bit of tequila, and probably there was vodka in there as well, in addition to the juice. Not something you’d be having a lot of. Still, you took a small sip – to fit in.

“Anyone else we know here?” Robin asked, scanning the crowd.

“Know? Probably everyone,” Nancy replied. “Care about? Probably just Steve, he went downstairs with Jason and the rest of the basketball guys, I think.”

“Anyoneeeee else?” Robin prompted.

“Uhhh, no, don’t think so?” Nancy gave Robin a searching look, but ultimately shook her head.

“Ugh, oh well,” Robin grumped. “Let’s go find dingus.”

Glasses in hand, the three of you trooped down the carpeted stairs to the basement rec room. Here, plush but luxe-looking suede couches were shoved to the perimeter of the wide room, stuffed with even more teenagers smunched up against each other. The largest couch had been commandeered by a squad of – you could clearly tell – jocks. Something about the way they sprawled their limbs without a care for who else might be in the way.

Steve was amongst the group, too, and he waved when he spotted you in the doorway, grin spreading across his face.

OK, so he was clearly a bit sloshed , you thought to yourself.

“Heyyyyy, you guys made it! Come say hi to the guys. Guys, you know the girls.” Steve gestured broadly to you all, nearly spilling whatever unholy concoction was in his cup.

“Haven’t seen you around before. It’s Jason, nice to meet you.”

Jason stretched out his hand to you, which you took, meeting his eyes. He had a chiseled jaw, swoosh of blonde hair charmingly spilling across his forehead in a pretense of disarray but savagely parted on the other side. A calculated smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You had no reason to, but you disliked him immediately.

“Pleasure,” you managed to say before extricating your hand from his. “You guys must be the basketball team Steve’s mentioned?”

“Gonna be the champs this year again,” Jason boasted. “This here’s Patrick, Chance, Josh and Andy.” Each guy grunted vaguely in your direction as Jason pointed them out. “And I’m the captain.”

“Of course you are,” you demurred.

Robin huffed. “Are you muppets going to make us stand here all night? Move over Steve!”

Despite her smaller size, your cousin was able to bully Steve over, making room on one end of the couch for the three of you. You wound up squished between Steve and Jason – you didn’t really enjoy the feeling of being the middle sardine, but you also didn’t want to be that person and make a big deal about it.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy started bickering heatlessly to themselves about something or another, leaving you out of the conversation and sipping your punch slowly. You did have to admit – after a half glass or so the fruity concoction was growing on you, lending a faintly blurred, surreal quality to the space.

“So, what brings you to Hawkins?”

Jason’s question cuts through the fug of your drink and you swivel to face him, as much as you could.

“Oh, um, I’m just staying with Robin – she’s my cousin – and her parents for the summer while mine are traveling. Normally I live in the city.”

He grimaces sympathetically. “Guess they travel a lot for work?”

If only. You take another sip and make a noncommittal noise. “Mm, yeah, something like that. Yours must be pretty chill to let you throw this party tonight, it’s fire.”

Jason looked around the rec room, like a king surveying his bawdy court. Again, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about him that made you feel like tiny spiders were crawling over your skin, even though – logically – he’d done nothing wrong. Maybe it was the sense you got that he knew he was rich, handsome, athletic, and that there was a lot in life that was his due because of it. Earned or…otherwise.

“Yeah,” he eventually said. “Long as I keep my grades up and don’t lose the summer job, folks don’t really mind what I do on the weekends while they’re at the country club.” His lips twitched into a smile. “Not a bad deal, huh?”

You agreed, from experience. “Could be way worse. So,” you deflected, “tell me who’s who. You must know everything about everyone here.”

The next fifteen minutes, and the rest of your drink, passed with Jason pointing out different people and giving you the lowdown on who they were, who they wanted to be, and their pecking order in the Hawkins High social scene. At some point Robin, Steve, and Nancy had popped back upstairs to get another drink. With yours also empty, you figured it was a good idea to go find them. Standing up, you wiggled your empty cup.

“Going to get a refill. Also…the bathroom?”

Jason jerked his head. “Around the corner, at the end of the hall. Can’t miss it.”

You staggered to your feet and pushed past Steve’s ungodly gangly legs, muttering, “Scuze me, bathroom, ’scuze me, sorry, ope, sorry,” until you made it through. You slipped through the door and looked down the hall – which unhelpfully went in both directions, with doors at both ends – eventually veering right and gingerly pushing the door open to find, yes, it was indeed a fairly serviceable bathroom. No one had puked in it or anything, yet.

Locking the door behind you, you did your thing. God, it seemed like rich people who wanted to flaunt their wealth bought the nice toilet paper. Three-ply and everything. For the basement bathroom. Jesus.

Washing your hands, you stared at yourself in the vanity mirror. Your hair was holding up OK, as was most of your makeup. You reached into your bra to grab a small tube of lipstick – where else was it supposed to fit? And you had the cleavage to pull it off! – and swiped another coat on your lips where the cup had smudged some off. There. Still looking put together.

Heading back down the hallway, you had almost reached the light spilling from the rec room when a sudden burst of laughter made you pause in the shadows, hidden behind the wall. Something about it had your self-preservation senses tingling. You had a sense a shoe was about to drop.

Somehow, in a few minutes you’d been gone, the basketball team had gotten even more inebriated.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jason, I know you’d tap that.”

It was Patrick. Or Chase. They’d sort of blurred together in your mind, their slurring voices all sounding the same.

“I know you would. Hell, I would. In that short little dress, ass and tits on display. You know she wants it, Jason.”

A hot flush of shame flooded your face. Chase-or-Patrick continued, oblivious to your presence just out of sight.

“I fucking bet you $20 that if I get one more drink in her, it’ll take nothing at all for her to go home with me.”

This time, you did hear Jason. “Deal, but only if you get her panties as proof.”

You felt the flush spreading to suffuse your whole body, setting your heart pounding in your chest, so hard it echoed into your hears until the thump-thump of your blood and your shame was the only thing you could hear.

What was it about you, exactly, that always seemed to give people the wrong idea. Was it your clothes, your hair, your eyes, your lips, the way you laughed, the way your chest fit your clothes, the length of your hem, how you smelled, if you had nail polish on or not.

Or was it just something in your very essence where boys thought they could say anything, do anything, to you and it was OK? That it was fucking acceptable?

You stood, paralyzed and faintly trembling, unable to move, unable to decide if you should go back in, pretend you didn’t hear anything, plaster on a smile and fake-fake-fake your way through it, or go upstairs, find someplace to hide away until Robin was ready to leave.

The kids at Hawkins, it turned out, were just the same as the shit school you came from.

Feeling tears start to puddle in your eyes, you raised one hand to swipe at them angrily.

“Don’t ever let ’em see you cry, Dots.”

You flinched, slowly pivoting to see Eddie standing behind you, as if he’d materialized out of the darkness. He was in black again, all Doc Martens, dark denim and a faded black band T-shirt, short sleeves revealing the pale stretch of his arms, broken up with what looked like a patchwork of tattoos. Bats. A creeping black spider. Something else, with fangs.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, dully. “Enough to think I’m still somebody’s hired hooker, Eddie?”

He studied you pensively, noting the tears still stuck, glittering, to your lashes. “No, and Robin blistered my ears for hours, setting me straight. They’re all assholes, you know. Not worth it.”

“Well you’re an asshole too, so don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I got the vibe,” you snapped peevishly. Eddie gave a startled bark of laughter in response.

“Yeah, Dots, I’m an asshole too.”

“Also it’s too late – you’ve already seen me cry. The other day, remember?”

“I know,” he admitted quietly. “But unlike them, at least I own my own asshole qualities.”

You almost thought it could have meant, “I’m sorry.” Almost.

Eddie shifted, stuffing his hands in his back pockets, taking advantage of the silence to study you. You felt the force of his gaze trace you from your quivering lip to the flare of your hips and down, down, down the length of your legs. The two of you were still standing just in the shadows, set apart from the carousing happening just a wall away. Someone could walk out and stumble upon the two of you any moment. Laughter coming from the rest of the party burst like little Champagne bubbles against the rushing in your ears. What was this? You didn’t know. But unlike your first meeting, you didn’t get the same acrid sharpness wafting from the boy in front of you. More a sense of surprising vulnerability, like the two of you recognized something of yourself in the other.

“What’re you doing here?” you deflected, not ready to face whatever the feeling was.

“Oh, Hawkins’ favorite small-time dealer is sufficiently tolerated wherever he goes, Dots.” Eddie pulled an expertly rolled joint out of his back pocket, letting you see it was just weed before it disappeared back where it came. “They don’t have much time for me otherwise, ’cept when Mummy and Daddy are away and they need something to take the edge of suburban mediocrity off. And I’m happy to oblige…for a price.” He flashed a grin, sharp as a knife and twice as lethal. “Call it a side hustle.”

You pushed: “Yeah, but what are you doing down here ? Rather than, I dunno, out in a back alley doing a shady deal.”

“Hey, all of my deals are done in nothing but the most high-quality of tiled bathrooms, thank you very much. But also, Robin and Steve are upstairs with Nance, sent me to find you.”

You glanced at the open door to the rec room. You knew you should probably go back in there, pretend like you hadn’t heard anything, if you wanted any part in Hawkins’ teenage scene while you were here. Spend the rest of the evening fending off increasingly drunk and stupid attempts at seduction until you could bow out at a socially respectable hour and go back to the bed you’d been loaned for the summer. But…

“I don’t want to go back in there,” you admitted, quietly.

“Then fucking don’t,” Eddie said immediately, like it was easy. And maybe for him it was. “Fuck their bullshit and whatever they think about you. No matter what you do, they’ll think it anyways.” He jerked his head toward the stairs leading back up to the kitchen.

“Come on, they’re all waiting for us – for you. Steve always gets way too fuckin hungry when he’s high, so they’re talking about ditching early and going to Benny’s for milkshakes instead. Plus,” Eddie magically pulled Robin’s car keys out from another pocked and jingled them at you, “as the most sober one here, I’m the designated driver. So this time I really can give you that ride, Dots. And Benny’s makes a mean chocolate milkshake, you can’t say no to that.”

Somehow the few minutes you’d spent in hushed conversation with Eddie, the night had become something more forgivable. No matter what he’d assumed the first time you met, there was nothing in his gaze now that indicated you were being treated like an object, like someone on display for everyone else’s enjoyment. So maybe you could re-evaluate your first impression of him. You decided you’d see what he was like over a late-night milkshake and then decide if Robin’s desired friendship-mending experience could happen.

Chocolate was your favorite flavor, after all.

You gave Eddie a little nod, and the way his eyes lit up in relief made the inside of your stomach do a little flip-flop. He made a grand, sweeping motion with his arms toward the stairs.

“Ladies first,” he intoned.

You giggled, and started to head up when something occurred to you. “Eddie,” you said, “is my mascara smudged?”

You still almost expected him to blow your question off, but instead he leaned forward to cup your chin gently with his fingers – the cool of his metal rings making you jump slightly – and title your face into the light. With you being a step or two above him, you were suddenly eye-to-eye, and the full force of his amber gaze caught yours, and held it.

“No,” he said, all seriousness. “They won’t know you’ve cried.”

“Don’t tell them.”

Eddie released your chin and gave you another one of what you were gradually realizing were his trademark half smiles. “A gentleman never betrays a lady’s secrets.”

“What about an asshole?” you quip, smiling so he’d know it was a joke.

“An asshole would save them for the right moment.”

“And which one are you in this moment?”

Eddie cocked his head, jerking his chin at you to head upstairs. “You’ll have to have that chocolate milkshake and find out.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to head upstairs and find your drunken cousin and friends, to save them from their own stupidity; Eddie followed on your heels.

Somehow , you thought, I hope I haven’t made a big mistake.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Next time: You get a job, and Eddie learns something about you.

#cruel summer #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #speedway au #enemies to friends to lovers

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soundsofcicadas · 2 months ago

Text

Swan Song, part four

Pairing: Koo Junhoe x Reader (f)

Genres: Writer AU / Drama, Romance, Childhood best friends, Junhoe is a former idol, Friends to lovers

Count: 4059

Warnings: None

Synopsis: After an unexpected encounter with your childhood best friend Junhoe, years after drifting apart, your rekindled friendship blooms anew. However, life takes a turn when he asks you to pen an article for his upcoming wedding. As you become entangled in his personal life, your old feelings of love for him begin resurfacing and the concealed secret behind his decision to abandon his idol career is soon to be unveiled by you.

The sharp ringing of your phone jolted you awake, sending a painful throb through your skull. Groaning, you blindly reached for your phone on the bedside table, squinting at the screen before answering.

“Hey, noona, we’re on our way to pick you up.” Yoshi’s voice came through the speaker, far too energetic for your pounding headache.

It took you a second to process his words before it hit you—today was Junhoe and Yuna’s scheduled interview.

Your eyes widened. “What time is it?” you asked, voice still groggy.

“Uh… 12,” Yoshi answered.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, jolting upright. The interview was at 1 PM at Junhoe’s place.

“Are you okay?” Yoshi asked, but you barely heard him.

“Yeah, yeah. Gotta go!” you cut in abruptly, ending the call as you scrambled out of bed.

Moving fast, you brushed your teeth and washed your face before downing some ibuprofen with a gulp of water. Your mind raced as you tore through your closet, settling on dark-wash jeans, a fitted white top, and a brown jacket.

Makeup would have to wait. You could do it in the car.

As you brushed your hair, you realize you’ve skipped breakfast, and with the way this day was going, you probably wouldn’t have time for lunch either. You rushed to the fridge, grabbed an apple, and tossed it into your bag—at the very least, it would keep your empty stomach from growling.

Spritzing on some perfume, you stuffed your iPad and phone into your bag. You spotted your shoes by the door, slipping them on hurriedly as you rushed out of your apartment.

By the time you reached downstairs, the company car had already arrived—and you were five minutes late.

“So sorry, guys,” you said breathlessly as you slid into the passenger seat, still catching your breath.

Yoshi, who was behind the wheel, waited for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling the car back onto the road.

“I got you coffee,” Yoshi said, gesturing toward the center console, where a cup sat beside you.

Your eyes widened in gratitude as you spotted the cup sitting beside you. “Oh my gosh, Yoshi, you’re a lifesaver.”

“My pleasure noona!” Yoshi responded gleefully.

“I swear, I’ll personally put in a word to Yeri so they make you a regular employee,” you teased.

Yoshi laughed at that. “I appreciate the endorsement.”

“Can you give me a minute?” you asked, rummaging through your bag for your makeup kit. Yoshi glanced at you with an amused smile. He didn’t say it out loud, but you could tell he knew that you had definitely woke up late.

Still, he reassured you. “Don’t worry Noona. According to GPS, we’ll actually be there five minutes early.”

Relieved, you sighed before you started dabbing on some powder and blush to your face. Your mind drifting to last night. You regretted drinking too much and staying up late, talking to Hanbin and the guys. Ever since Jiwon and Donghyuk moved to the States, you’ve been catching up with them often over FaceTime. It started as a casual catch-up, just goofing around. Until everyone decided to turn it into a virtual drinking session. Everyone talked about what they had been up to, laughing and sharing stories, until the conversation inevitably turned to Junhoe’s upcoming wedding.

You vaguely remembered mentioning that today was the interview, but beyond that, everything blurred. Alcohol and exhaustion had eventually won, and you passed out before the call even ended. Now, in the light of day, an uneasy thought nagged at you—had you let anything slip about your true feelings for Junhoe?

You pushed the thought away. Overthinking wouldn’t help. Besides, if you had slipped, you knew the guys would have your back. They always did.

You finished your makeup with a swipe of lipstick and a coat of mascara on your lashes before drawing your attention to the backseat, where Yoshi introduced the rest of the team for today’s interview.

“That’s Hongjoong, our photographer, and his assistant, Ryujin.”

You exchanged quick greetings with them by saying, “Yeah I know them, good afternoon guys.”

Yoshi felt a bit silly, upon learning that you had probably worked with them before. Unlike him, who was still new to the magazine. “My bad, guys. I’m still the new one here,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. The three of you chuckled at his remark.

You returned to your bag, to pullout your iPad and slipped on your glasses. As the car moved smoothly down the road, you went over the list of interview questions you had prepared for Junhoe and Yuna, scanning them one last time to make sure everything was in order. Once satisfied, you looked up at the team.

“When we get there, I’ll need you two to prepare the lights and camera in the living room while Yoshi and I coordinate with the couple. We’ll confirm where they’d prefer to do the interview before finalizing the setup.”

Hongjoong and Ryujin nodded in agreement, and with everything now in place, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. The day was just getting started.

You and the team arrived at Junhoe’s place five minutes ahead of schedule, just as the GPS had predicted. Yoshi parked the car along the sidewalk, right beside Junhoe’s house. From your seat, you could see that it was concealed behind a tall, solid fence. Its thick panels offering no glimpse of what lay beyond. A sleek, heavy gate stood at the entrance, adding to the mystery of what the place had become over the years. From the outside, there was no telling if it was still the same house you remembered. The one where you and the boys spent countless of sleepovers with.

You were glad the Koo family never sold it, even after Junhoe’s parents and his sister Yejin moved to Japan permanently. Given Junhoe’s success, you had no doubt he had transformed it into something grander. The simple home from your childhood was likely long gone, replaced with something more refined. More fitting for the person he had become. Now, it was probably a vacation home, a retreat from the noise of the city.

You told Hongjoong and Ryujin to wait in the car since you wanted to inform the couple of the team’s arrival first. Stepping out with Yoshi, a cool breeze brushed against your face. You couldn’t help but absorb the nostalgic street where you had once lived. Back then life was simpler. You and the boys would ran through this neighborhood without a care. But time and adulthood had a way of scattering people. You all went your separate ways—to different cities, different countries. What once felt like forever had become a distant memory.

Setting aside your reminiscing, you went back to the present where you were tasked with interviewing Junhoe and Yuna today. Along with Yoshi, you made your way to the gate to ring the doorbell. The chime echoing beyond the tall fence. You both waited, exchanging a quick glance when no one immediately answered. Frowning, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, quickly typing a message to Junhoe. We’re here. Waiting outside. You stared at the screen, waiting for the typing bubble to appear, but there was nothing. Yoshi pressed the doorbell again, this time holding it a second longer. The silence stretched just enough to make you both uneasy. Just as you were about to say something, the gate suddenly swung open, making you take a small step back in surprise.

It was Junhoe on the other side, in a long-sleeved cashmere sweater and white pajama pants. However, you easily noticed that something about him was different. His dark hair was a tousled mess, as if he had just rolled out of bed. His face was blank, withdrawn, almost as if he were staring at strangers.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion.

You stared at Junhoe, completely at a loss for words. Was he joking? What is going on?

Before you could even process it, Yoshi, who seemed oblivious to the odd tension in the air, spoke up with his usual professionalism. “Good afternoon, sir. We’re from Exurb Nouveau. We’re here for the interview?”

Junhoe’s lips pressed into a deep frown, his forehead creasing with visible tension.

“Interview?” he repeated, his eyes shifting restlessly, like he was trying to piece something together but couldn’t. His confusion only seemed to grow, and that’s when you started to get worried for him.

“Junhoe, are you okay?” you asked, stepping forward slightly. But he didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. It was like he wasn’t fully there, lost in some other world.

A voice suddenly broke through behind him.

“Jun!”

You saw Yuna step into view, clearly fresh from a shower. She was wrapped in a velour bathrobe, her hair twisted up in a towel.

Yuna approached him gently, placing a hand on his arm. “Honey, let’s get you inside, okay?”

With a brief, strained smile she faced you and Yoshi. “Give us a moment. Please wait here.”

Without another word, she led Junhoe back inside, and the gate shut in front of you.

You and Yoshi stood there in stunned silence, exchanging glances. No words were spoken, but the look you shared said it all.

What the hell just happened?

You swore it took more than five minutes before the gate finally reopened.

This time, Yuna stood there, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, the towel gone. She looked composed, yet detached, making it hard to read her. “You can come in now,” she said, stepping aside to let you through.

Before moving, you quickly pulled out your phone and texted Hongjoong. There’s a delay with the interview. Just hang tight for a bit.

Sliding your phone back into your bag, you followed Yuna inside with Yoshi. The sound of the gate locking behind you was met with the distant chirping of birds, despite it already being afternoon. Your eyes wandered around, taking in your surroundings. The front yard was beautifully maintained, perhaps even professionally landscaped. A stone pathway led to the house, flanked by neatly trimmed hedges and patches of greenery. The air smelled fresh, carrying a faint mix of pine and earth. The house itself had changed drastically.

What was once a simple two-story home had expanded into a modern, luxurious space. Sleek glass windows stretched across the front, allowing the afternoon sun to cast warm reflections.

When you reached the entrance, you braced yourself, still rattled by what had occurred earlier. Whatever was going on, you had a feeling this interview wasn’t going to go as planned.

Yuna invited you and Yoshi to take a seat on the couch. Settling in, you scanned the whole space, which was once familiar to you but now entirely foreign.

The house was undeniably beautiful. Spacious and cozy in a way that felt intentional. The floors were polished marble and across the living room on the left, a rich oak staircase led to the second floor, where several doors lined in the center of the house. The tall ceiling embedded with contemporary pendant lights made the space feel even larger. The walls were mostly bare, and only had one framed photo hanging—a picture of the Koo family from Yejin’s wedding. It felt out of place in an otherwise minimally decorated space, like it was the only piece of the past the family had chosen to keep.

This was no longer the home you remembered from childhood. You also noticed that Junhoe was nowhere in sight.

“Can I get you two something to drink?” Yuna asked, looking between you and Yoshi.

Both of you shook your heads. “No, we’re good. Thank you,” Yoshi replied.

Yuna smirked, as if she’d expected the refusal. Turning away, she simply strolled toward the right side of the house, where the kitchen must have been.

An awkward silence fell over you and Yoshi. Neither of you spoke, but you both felt it. The strange tension lingering in the air, the unanswered questions from earlier still hanging over your heads.

The quiet was soon broken when Yuna returned, a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other. She took the single couch beside where you and Yoshi sat, crossing her legs before pouring herself a drink. She took a slow sip and placed the bottle down on the table. With a light exhale, she finally spoke.

“We have to cancel the interview for today.”

You hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is Junhoe okay?”

Unfazed by your concern, Yuna took another sip of her wine, tilting her head slightly as if weighing her response. Then, with a small shrug, she simply said, “He’s just not feeling well, that’s all.”

Her tone was flat, unbothered.

“We’ll compensate for the effort and resources you spent coming here,” she added, already reaching for the bottle to pour herself more wine.

Yoshi remained quiet beside you, stealing a glimpse your way, but you didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze stayed fixed on Yuna.

There was something troubling about Yuna’s composure—too calm, too detached, as though this was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. The nonchalance in her demeanor, paired with the fact that she was drinking wine in the middle of the day while her fiancé was supposedly unwell, didn’t sit right with you.

Something was off.

Suddenly, the house felt cold and empty. You couldn’t just take her words at face value and leave. A gnawing feeling dwelled in your gut, unease crawling up your spine.

“I’d like to see him,” you said, your voice firmer than you expected. “Just to make sure he’s okay.”

The conversation came to an unexpected halt as Junhoe descended the stairs. He was still dressed in what were likely his sleeping clothes—the same white pants and cashmere top—unchanged despite the late hour of the day. His disheveled hair, and slightly dazed look made him seem even more out of place.

“Honey, have you seen my composition book?” his voice was casual, like everything was normal. “Also, why can’t I find any of my instruments here?”

Junhoe’s behavior left you perplexed. You could see a trace of determination in his eyes, yet his focus was somewhere far. He never once acknowledged you and Yoshi, as if the two of you were invisible. His entire attention was on Yuna, his tone expectant, like she held all the answers.

Yuna, for her part, remained composed, though you caught the briefest glint of something behind her eyes—something tight, like she was forcing herself to stay calm.

“Jun,” she said softly, “you left them at our home in Seoul, remember?”

Junhoe blinked, confusion clouding his features. “Where are we?”

“We’re at your parents’ house,” Yuna’s voice was patient, but there was an underlying tension beneath her words. “Can you please, for the love of God, take your medicine? It’s in the bathroom, honey.”

Junhoe was silent for a beat, his hand slowly coming up to rub his temple. “Oh, yeah. My meds,” his voice wavered slightly. “Okay. I—I’m going to take them and lie down a bit. I have this headache.”

Without another word, Junhoe headed back up stairs, leaving behind an even heavier silence.

Your heart pounded. Something was very, very wrong.

Yuna let out a soft sigh, swirling the wine in her glass before meeting your gaze.

“As you can see, y/n, he’s sick and can’t talk to you right now,” her voice was smooth, almost rehearsed. “I’ll let the magazine know if we can reschedule the interview. Maybe during our pre-wedding shoot, I don’t know,” she waved a dismissive hand. “We’re sorry for wasting your time. Please find your way out. Thank you for coming.”

And just like that, it was over.

You and Yoshi had no choice but to comply. Without another word, the two of you stepped out of the house. The air was thick with unspoken questions, but none of them had answers.

Just before reaching the gate, you stopped in your tracks, placing a hand on Yoshi’s shoulder. He spun around, his brows knitting together.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” you said quietly.

Yoshi tilted his head, waiting.

“Please don’t tell anyone what we saw here today,” your voice was steady, but there was an uneasiness to it you couldn’t hide.

A flicker of understanding passed through his eyes.

He exhaled, nodding. “I get it.” There was a brief pause, giving the impression that he was holding something back, but he still asked, “You and Junhoe… are you friends?”

“Yeah,” you responded with a faint smile on your lips. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Yoshi’s expression softened, his usual playfulness replaced with something more gentle. “Got it,” he assured you. “This stays between us. We don’t have to talk about today ever again.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief.

The official story would be simple—Junhoe was feeling under the weather, just a mild flu. The couple would inform the magazine when the interview could be rescheduled. That was all anyone else needed to know.

“Thank you, Yoshi,” you uttered, offering him a grateful glance.

As he walked out of the gate, you lingered for a moment, your feet unmoving.

You stared at the house, its pristine facade doing little to mask the loneliness of what’s inside. There was an unshakable sense that it was hiding something, keeping its secrets tucked away behind closed doors.

Still, your thoughts went to him.

Junhoe.

************************************************************************

In the days following the canceled interview, everything seemed to fall back into routine—or at least that’s how it seemed. Yeri and the rest of the team accepted your explanation without question, believing Junhoe was not feeling well that day due to a fever. You and Yoshi acted normal in the office, giving no hint that anything was amiss.

Junhoe hadn’t reached out since that strange day, and despite your deep concern for him, you hadn’t made any attempt to contact him either. You weren’t sure why you were avoiding him—or even Hanbin and the others. Their messages filled the group chat, their missed calls piling up, but you left them unanswered. Part of you knew they were starting to worry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them, not when you didn’t have any answers yourself.

Your thoughts kept circling back to that moment—Junhoe looking so disoriented, like he was somewhere else entirely. His confusion, the way he barely acknowledged your presence… it wasn’t something you could easily forget. The memory haunted you, replaying in your mind like a loop, making you question what was really going on in that house. You tried to shake it off, tried to focus on work, but the feeling of unease wouldn’t leave. Something was wrong, and no matter how much you tried to push it aside, you couldn’t ignore it.

And Yuna… she just sat there, drinking. You wondered if she was trying to escape, numbing herself. Her detachment from everything around her was palpable—her indifference toward Junhoe even more so. She seemed fed-up by the situation, her calmness feeling like nothing more than a pretense. Why wasn’t she acting like a woman about to marry the love of her life? No matter how much you told yourself it wasn’t your place to interfere, your heart wouldn’t let it go. Junhoe wasn’t just anyone—he was someone you had known for so long, someone you loved more than just a friend.

Your mind was tangled with unanswered questions. You needed to understand what was really happening with Junhoe—how serious his condition was and what could make him forget you and lose his sense of place. The thought of him going through it alone perturbed you to the core. You knew you had to do something soon, even if you didn’t know where to start. All you could do was hope he’d recover, giving you the chance to talk to him. And when that moment comes, he should tell you the truth—no matter what.

A few days later, Hanbin reached out to you again, saying he was planning to come over with Yunhyeong. You stared at the message for a while before leaving it on read. You weren’t ready to face them yet, not when you still hadn’t figured out how to explain what you saw at Junhoe’s house—or how to make sense of it yourself. But the weekend came, and true to his word, Hanbin showed up at your place around noon along with Yunhyeong.

They didn’t come empty-handed either. They brought your favorite food, probably hoping it would ease whatever you’ve been going through. You appreciated their thoughtfulness. Their company brought you comfort you hadn’t realized you missed, or perhaps something you needed right now. You welcomed them inside, trying to act normal, but it didn’t take long for them to bring up the elephant in the room.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Hanbin watched you closely, his tone collected but filled with concern. “You’ve been acting weird. Aloof.”

Yunhyeong, sitting beside him, chimed in, “And don’t say it’s just work. We know it’s not.”

You were speechless.

“It’s Junhoe, isn’t it?” Hanbin asked.

You froze, unable to meet their eyes.

“You know�� that night when you got drunk on FaceTime?” Hanbin’s voice was careful, but there was an edge of knowing in it. “You talked about Junhoe.”

Your eyes widened at this, but Yunhyeong only gave you a sympathetic smile, a sign that he understood you.

“I’ve always known,” Hanbin added. “But the guys… they’ve known for a long time too.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah,” Yunhyeong nodded. “It was obvious… you always kept tabs on Junhoe.”

He paused, giving you a thoughtful look.

“We all admired that about you… how you kept your distance, even when it must’ve been hard, considering how close you two were. You had plenty of chances to see him at a meet-and-greet, but you never took them.”

A pang stirred in your chest at Yunhyeong’s words. You never had the courage to tell Junhoe how you truly felt. There were countless moments where you could have, fleeting chances where the words hovered at the tip of your tongue, but fear held you back. Sometimes, you wondered what might have happened if you had been honest from the start—if you had told him that you loved him before everything changed. But none of that mattered now. Junhoe had moved on, and you had long decided that your friendship with him was more important than risking it all for feelings that might not have been returned.

Yet, despite putting those emotions aside, something heavier weighed on you now. It wasn’t just your feelings for him that continued to bother you—it was the state of his mind that you had witnessed at his house. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Hanbin and Yunhyeong, not now. Whatever was going on with Junhoe, you needed to hear it from him first.

“It really is because of work, I’ve just been… busy,” that was all you managed to say. “I’m trying to move on from him too. Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” The words felt hollow, and you knew they didn’t believe them.

Hanbin narrowed his eyes, not looking convinced. He knew you too well to buy that excuse. But he didn’t press you any further, not yet. Instead, he just sighed and let it slide—for now.

The three of you ate together, the conversation steering toward lighter topics, and none of you mentioned Junhoe again. Since Yunhyeong lived in Seoul, the guys decided to sleep over at your place that night. Despite their efforts to lift your mood, your heart remained restless, following you even as you prepared for bed.

Just when you were about to lie down, your phone buzzed. You stared at the screen, and your heart skipped a beat.

Junhoe.

“Hello y/n, how are you? Can we talk? By the way, the interview is rescheduled for next week.”

Your breath caught, your fingers hovering over the screen. Whatever was going on… it wasn’t over yet.

After a few moments of hesitation, you replied to Junhoe’s message.

“I’ve been good Jun, thanks for letting me know! I hope you’re feeling better.”

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butternuggets-blog · 1 year ago

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Prompt: Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

For @adarafaelbarba 's "The Show Must Go On" song lyrics prompt list, and @leftenantjopson 😊

SAS Rogue Heroes Highschool AU

'He's quiet in his room' Mr Sadler looked up at the ceiling and sipped his cup of tea.

His wife looked up from her sausage roll and smiled. 'He was down at the post office earlier, picking up packages. He's ordered such a lot of stuff, I shouldn't wonder he'll be unpacking for while.'

'And there's his drill' Mr Sadler frowned thoughtfully at the high-pitched whine. 'What is that boy building up there?'

Mrs Sadler shrugged. 'Heaven knows.'

Noises continued to happen for the rest of the day, pausing only when Mike came down for dinner. He had black dusting his fingertips - 'Wash your hands please, dear' - and a paint streaked on one pant leg, but his parents didn't push him for answers.

'Could I go camping in the woods next week please?'

'I thought your friends were all scattering for the summer holidays?' Mrs Sadler raised an eyebrow.

Mike nodded. 'They are.'

'Well, please be careful dear, and do let us know when you are leaving. Oh, and remember to keep your mobile phone charged!'

'Of course, Mum.'

Mr Sadler waited until his wife had gone into the kitchen for a second helping of desert and leaned across the table towards his son.

'Is all that-' he jerked his chin up towards the ceiling, '- for the trip?'

Mike nodded, grinning.

'Don't get caught' said Mr Sadler, with a wink.

________________________________________________________________

Marc Halévy squinted at the map in the dying sunlight. He knew where the campsite was, he just...couldn't find it.

'Here.' Grapes leaned over, flashlight in hand, and tapped the black dot they were supposed to be hiking towards.

'Merci,' Halévy folded the map and pushed it back into the side pocket of his backpack. 'I do not want to sleep alone out here.'

'You're not alone,' Grapes nudged him gently with his elbow. 'You have me.'

Halévy chuckled and nudged him back as they continued walking down the dirt track. They were an hour behind their friends; the bus had broken down and although they had run as fast as they could to the meet-up point everyone was long gone. They had accidentally double-backed on themselves twice, but they had found the correct hiking path eventually.

The sun passed below the horizon and they put on their headlamps, huddling closer against the sounds of the night. A low-flying owl startled them when it swooped past after a mouse. The wind suddenly picked up, stirring the trees and causing the shadows to flicker ominously across the track; by the time they reached the second-to-last hill before the campsite Grapes had tripped on three fallen branches and Halévy had put his foot into a muddy puddle.

'I knew packing three pairs of socks was a good idea,' Halévy said cheerfully, untying his boots while he held onto Grapes' shoulder for support. 'André said I was being ridiculous-'

They froze as the screech ripped through the trees.

It was way too loud to be far away. It sounded inhuman but unlike any animal Halévy had ever heard before, with a sharp quality that hurt his ears.

He scanned the woods desperately for the source of the noise.

Nothing.

No, not nothing.

Two glowing red eyes were looking at him through the gloom. They were attached to a body that was at least six foot tall, but all other details of its appearance were lost in the gloom.

Then it opened a pair of wings as wide as Halévy's mother's car and screeched again.

'AAAAAHHHHHH!!!'

Halévy took off running, pulling Grapes along behind him. He lost his loose boot immediately but didn't slow down, leaving the shoe abandoned on the track as he ran for his life.

#sas rogue heroes #writing prompt #mike sadler #marc halévy #sas rogue heroes grapes

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mylove-iv · 1 year ago

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⠀𐔌 . ⋮ the chase .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ motorcyclist! xiao x fem, ballerina! reader ɞ

synopsis: a chance encounter amidst traffic fleeting like the wind, a ribbon tying you two together yet why were you both foolish enough to not ask for names?

genres: romance (implied mutual attraction), modern au + smau.

word count: 680.

author's note: this was gonna be a kuni fic but thinking about it, i think he'd just smack your hand playfully LMAO- but this fic was created by my brainrot induced by this video ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹.

‎‧₊ ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

As the car comes to a stop within a sea of traffic, you sigh tiredly as your eyes drift to your bag.

Frustration blooms within you as you inwardly wince, remembering that your current pointe shoes are basically dead and that you’d have to break in new pointe shoes when you get home.

But with the reminder of you not fully grasping your piece during rehearsals, the frustration welling inside you explodes in a quiet storm in your mind.

Tugging the silk ribbon from your hair, your locks descend down your shoulders in waves, before you’re lowering the window.

Putting your hand through the window, the silk ribbon flutters softly in the night breeze and you pause as you question whether you should let it go, the ribbon—and ballet.

But just as you were about to let the ribbon flutter away, a warm and unfamiliar hand encompasses yours gently.

Your eyes shoot up to meet deep amber ones, red eyeliner lining his sharp eyes as locks of black and turquoise peek from his helmet, his face hidden by the mask beneath his motorcycle helmet.

The man gently closes your hand into a fist, securing the ribbon in your grasp as he gently nudges your hand back into the car.

“You should put your hands back in the car,” He hums and you find yourself entranced by the lull of his voice, deep and soothing—alluring.

The man turns his head to face the road yet he keeps eye contact by looking at your through the corner of his eyes, “It’s dangerous.”

He’s gone as fast as he had unexpectedly arrived as traffic begins to move and only then are you able to realize what had just happened.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as your bottom lip slightly falls, your stomach twisting and turning and you swear there’s a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

Swallowing thickly, your fingers absentmindedly played with the ribbon, tying it into a cute bow.

And as traffic begins to lessen and the driver accelerates, the loud roar of a motorcycle catches your attention.

Instinctively grabbing your phone, you snap a blurry picture of the cute motorcyclist hoping to find him once more.

Boldly, you roll down the window once more as the car speeds up, unwittingly chasing the motorcyclist who unknowingly caught your eyes as your hand tightens around the ribbon in your grasp.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

Xiao quickly revs his bike, weaving through traffic before a flailing hand enters the corner of his vision.

Curiosity blooms within him and he takes the bait as he slows his bike to match the car’s speed.

Being mindful to stay aware of his surroundings, his eyes meet yours once more and a small smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes you as the one from before.

Pretty. He thinks as he finally takes you in, too engrossed in informing you to keep your hands in the car to have noticed your beauty prior.

But you gently wave your hand in the wind, a smile stretching across your face as Xiao brings up his hand to grab whatever you’re holding.

He sees a faint flash of pink as your fingers brush against his and he swears he feels a buzz of electricity dance atop his skin.

The car speeds up and you maintain eye contact with him, a coy yet sweet smile on your face as you wave him goodbye.

Xiao is struck by a sudden fluttering in his stomach that distracts him enough for the car to enter the maze of cars along the freeway.

Realizing that he's lost your car, he sighs as he understands it'd be troublesome revving his bike through traffic to chase you.

Instead, he allows his eyes to drift down to what you had given him.

A baby pink silken ribbon tied into a cute bow.

A smile graces his face as he huffs amusedly behind his mask. His hand tightens around the bow as he quickly shoves it into the pocket of his jacket, noting to tie it to his bike’s keys.

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hockeyandhrsepwr · 2 years ago

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Abu Dhabi moments

Jack Hughes x Ferrari driver reader

Je T’aime Masterlist

** Vegas is the last race before Abu Dhabi & series takes place in 2024 with Danny, Seb & Mick still on the grid **

A handful of moments as the season come to an end because I didn’t want to write a full fic. Also how are y’all? I’ve haven’t been on here in a while because ya girl had finals and grad 🫶

Post Practice, Friday

Welcome back to sunny Abu Dhabi, as we prepare for the final race of the season!! This weekend brings us the most heated battle for the Drivers Championship we’ve ever seen!! Yes that includes Lewis versus Max 2021, the Mercedes battle of 2016 & Sebastian Vettels maiden win in 2010. Ferrari have the Consrtuctors trophy, will they clinch the Drivers too? Lets have a look at the possibilities

Y/n L/n currently sits first in the points, with Max trailing by only one. Charles Leclerc only sits only 5 points behind him. It will come down to whoever takes the win for this race. Three potential champions, one race. Will it be a third championship for Verstappen, a second for Leclerc or a first for L/n?

Are you excited? Because we sure are. They all had great practices today. Who will come out on top? Tune in all weekend to see what happens!

Lets send it over to Naomi, who’s with y/n now

Media Pen

Hi y/n, how are we feeling today?

I’m doing great, how about you?

You know, I’m pretty good but were not here to talk about me. What’re you feeling coming into this weekend, knowing that the championship could be yours?

Honestly, I’m trying not to think about that. It’s just a normal race. I dont want to psych myself out since anything can happen once we get on that track. Of course I’d love to win, but who knows. Charles & I have been able to bring that constrictors back to Ferrari which was incredible, and whoever wins will have absolutely deserved it.

Thats a great way to look at it! I’m rooting for you but we’ll see what happens. Now, onto something more important. You had an interesting weekend in Las Vegas, didn’t you?

Yeah, you know the race was a lot of fun and it was great to win, especially given the issues we had the week before

Girl you know thats not what I’m talking about!!! I mean your after race shenanigans Haha, yeah, so I got married which was a special experience.

Can I ask if you’d planned that going into the weekend?

Oh not at all! It was more a timing thing. So Saturday night Jack, my husband which is still weird to say, asked if I’d want to get married while we were there. He played a game in Vegas which is why he was there at all. Of course I wanted to marry him, but I didnt want to do it without some of our closest friends there. Luckily, most of them who play hockey were either in Vegas because they’re on his team or they were within a 2 hour flight range so we could get them there for Sunday night. And of course I was able to get the guys from the grid there no problem. So we just decided to go for it!

So no parents?

No, unfortunately not. Both of our parents live on the east coast and it was too quick to get them there, but we’re going to do a big party over the summer so they can celebrate with us.

At least they’ll have that!! Can I ask what the planning was like?

Jack took on all of the decisions which was really great of him since I had the race that evening, but Sunday morning we texted everyone with flight info & told them to get there asap. Then my best friend Thomas went & picked a dress for me, since Jack wasn’t allowed. I sent a message to our groupchat after the race with the chapel address once jack found somewhere & told the drivers to be there and look decent. It was a really great night though & I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Well congratulations!! Is he here this weekend?

Unfortunately not, hockey season is well underway, but I’m on the first flight to New York that I can get & we’ll have the winter break together.

Well, all the best to you and your new husband, and we’ll talk to you later this weekend I’m sure. Good Luck tomorrow!!

Thanks Naomi!

RACE DAY

Commentators

Oh my god, we’ve come down to the final lap to decide the championship. Who’s going to cross the line first?? Right now L/n is leading, but Verstappen is right behind her. Will he be able to get past?? The other Ferrari of Leclerc is a fraction of a second behind Verstappen.

There goes Leclerc!!! He’s trying to pass Verstappen, my word! OHHH he does it!! Charles Leclerc puts his Ferrari between the Ferrari of L/n and the red bull of Verstappen

Radio: “Tell y/n I’ve got verstappen, go & win it!!”

That was Leclerc, it looks like he’s going to defend against Verstappen so L/n can win. We have half a lap, can he hold off the Red Bull? Fantastic driving by Leclerc, and what a teammate!!

Here it it!!! Rounding the final corner in that iconic red car, its L/n!! The chequered flag is waving, SHES DONE IT!!!!

Radio: C’est toi y/n!!! Tu es la championne du monde!!!!!

In her 4th season in Formula one, your 2023 World Champion Y/n L/n everyone!! What a finish from the young driver. History is made here tonight as she becomes the first female driver ever to win the championship!! She’s also the second youngest driver to take it after former ferrari teammate Sebastian Vettel.

What a race, what a finish as Leclerc crosses in second, less than half a second behind.

You

Over the radio you hear the team celebrating but you have no words. It doesn’t feel real. There’s tears streaming down your face. All the shit you put up with, all the years of hard work, missing your friends and family, it’s all lead up to this.

“Y/n?” You can hear your engineer ask since you haven’t responded, but nothing comes out. Driving towards the end, you do your donuts and pull in to your designated spot. You just sit there for a second before “HOLY FUCK” and someone on the other end laughs.

You’re still crying but its all happy tears as you pull yourself up & step onto the front of the car. You sit down on the Halo & put your head in your hands, trying to collect yourself as the crowd goes mad around you. Pulling off your helmet you look over to your team at the barriers & smile. You want to run over & celebrate with them, but you can’t bring yourself to move, afraid its all a dream. Then you get tackled. You’ve completely missed the other guys pulling up, too in your own head and you jump when Charles grabs you and pulls you off your car. He pulls you into a hug & whispers congratulations in your ear before someone else grabs you & you see Mick.

“You fucking did it!” He yells and you laugh. It was the kick in the ass you needed and you release Mick to go over to your team, hugging your engineer first. After that it’s a blur, until someone passes you a phone.

“McQueen!!!” Thomas is on the one end of the FaceTime, jack also popping up on the screen. You laugh at the nickname, glad to see their faces.

“I’m so proud of you!” Jack says “Me too!!” Thomas yells, wanting to be part of the conversation. “Thanks Thom!” “I love you so much babe! I can’t really hear you so I’ll call you later?” “Go celebrate, I’ll see you soon. Je t’aime mon amour” You blow a kiss before handing back the phone. There’s one more person you need to see. You spot Susie and you rush over to her. She’s been a mentor and inspiration to you since you were a kid and without her who knows where you’d be right now.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You’re pulled into interview after interview, congratulations coming from all around and your phone buzzing like its possessed. You call your parents & Jack but thats it, grateful for all the love but too overwhelmed to deal with responding to all your messages. That night you and the boys go full send. You know its a good night since you can’t remember anything. Monday is filled with media, and then you hop on a flight straight to Newark.

Fourteen hours later, Jack & Luke are waiting from you when you finally make it through customs.

You’d think you’re racing or an Olympic gold to win the 100m with how fast you fly over to Jack & jump into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you hug him like a koala.

“Tu l’as fait” he whispers in your ear as you squeeze each other, your face buried in his neck. You can hear the emotion in his voice

“Je l’ai fais”

“Ma championne”

“Je t’aime tellment”

“Mon champion” you say back, smiling at the fact that both of you won this year

“Cough cough, Hi, hello, where’s my hug?” Luke says from somewhere behind you, causing you to giggle and pull your head up to look at him

“I’ll get to you in a sec”

Jack puts you down & you give Luke his hug. “Congrats y/n/n. You deserved it”

“ Thanks Moose. Now we match with our trophies.”

“We do!!” He passes you the big bouquet of flowers he’s holding, “from mom & dad”

“I love them. Let’s go home boys”

#jack hughes x reader #fast cars and sharp shoes au #f1 #f1 x hockey #jjwritesshit #je taime series #driver!reader #jack hughes imagine #f1 blurb #nhl blurb #hockey shit #formula one #hockey blurb

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cameronsbabydoll · 29 days ago

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BUFFALO 66 AU — CHAPTER TWO

WARNINGS — kidnapping, mean!rafe, creepy!rafe

the car reeks of cigarettes and something sharp — oil, maybe. gasoline. whatever it is, it makes your throat burn as you curl up small against the door, knees pulled tight to your chest like maybe you can disappear there.

but you can’t.

because he’s still here. he’s still driving.

and you’re still stolen.

your soft little sniffles turn into quiet, hiccuping sobs — hands shaking, wiping at your wet face uselessly, mascara smudging down your cheeks. the baby blue dress you'd been so proud to wear tonight feels stupid now — cheap and childish under his rough grip.

why.

it's all you can think. over and over.

why you.

why now.

why him.

“w-why are you—” you try, voice cracking — but the words fall apart around your crying, hopeless and messy and small.

you see it — the way his jaw tics. the way his hand tightens around the steering wheel, knuckles flexing hard enough to go pale.

“shut up,” he mutters. not cruel — just tired. tired in a way that sounds dangerous.

but you don't.

you can’t.

“w-why are you doing this to me?” you whisper, breaking on the last word.

and that’s when he snaps.

he grabs you — fast — a rough hand shooting out to grip your tear-streaked face, big palm curling around your jaw to force you to look at him. it hurts. everything he does feels like it hurts.

his eyes are so blue they almost look fake.

cold. mean. but there's something wild underneath them. something worse.

“i told you,” he growls low, “don’t talk. not unless i tell you to. not unless you wanna make this worse for yourself.”

your breath stutters out in a panicked little whimper. you flinch when he lets go — shoving his hand back through his hair like he hates that he even touched you.

the rest of the drive is dead quiet except for your shaky breathing and the roar of the shitty engine.

he pulls into a run-down, roadside motel hours later — flickering sign, soda machines out front, no cameras. It looks like the kinda place people go to disappear.

perfect for someone like him.

he kills the engine.

looks over at you.

his voice is low. steady.

“this is what’s gonna happen.”

you stare at him — wide-eyed, teary, pathetic.

“we go in there. you don’t say shit about tonight. you don’t tell them your name. you don’t tell them anything.”

a pause.

“you’re my girl. you’ve been my girl. that’s the story.”

it makes your heart drop.

he says it like it’s easy. like it's already true.

like it should be.

“and if you run?” he leans in slow — so close you can smell the sweat on his skin, the cigarettes clinging to his clothes. “if you fuck this up for me?”

that fake softness in his tone curls cold.

“i’ll find you. and i’ll be worse.”

you don’t say a word at the check-in.

you just stand there — limp and quiet, in your wrinkled dress and ruined makeup — while rafe gives some fake name and throws cash on the counter like it means nothing to him.

and then you're in the room — some gross little single bed, yellow-stained lamp, scratchy sheets. you stand there awkwardly by the door until he looks at you like you’re stupid.

“well?” his voice is rough, tired. “get in.”

you move slow — crawl onto the bed like a girl waiting for something worse.

but all he does is kick his shoes off and collapse down beside you — arm thrown over his eyes, like he’s the one stuck with you.

it’s quiet for a long time.

then — low, grudging, like it’s costing him something — you hear him rasp:

“go to sleep, angel.”

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 years ago

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Ultima Ex Nobis | ch. IV

Nessian AU word count: ~2,4k words warnings: mentions of bad mental health summary: Six years into a global pandemic which was caused by a mass fungal infection that turns hosts into zombie-like creatures and makes the whole of Prythian collapse, the former army general Cassian Cadell is tasked with one very special mission – escorting Nesta Archeron, one of the few immune survivors, across a post-apocalyptic Prythian to a group of people of the name L. Their identity is unknown but they can make an antidote.

masterlist

Exhaustion burns in Nesta’s lungs when she runs over the dry soil, through the high grass, her heavy feet aching. She was active, danced and did gymnastics once a week before the infection started. Now, after having been denied sports for nearly six years, she is weak. The muscles in her legs are not strong enough to carry her as fast as Cassian is running. But the general would never leave her behind, he slows down, Nesta trying to keep up with his pace. Cool morning air wheezes in an out of her lungs, a sharp stinging pain erupting in her chest. They are inside a forest now, the morning air so very cold, sending shivers down her whole body.

“FASTER!” the former army general shouts, but Nesta can barely hear him over the blood rushing in her ears. She wants to shout back that she is already trying to, but decides against it — it would only be a waste of oxygen and her lungs and torso are already aching, burning like she has swallowed poison, like she is being suffocated.

The engine once again gets louder, sounds nearer, and Nesta does not even have to look back over her shoulder. She knows who is behind them and she also knows that Keir is probably in one of those cars, hunting her like his own favourite little prey. But well then, he is a coward, so he probably did not join.

Cassian takes a sharp turn, his hand snatching out to grab Nesta’s. He brings her closer to him, somehow like his shielding her from the danger. He is her protector after all.

They take a path off the beating track, now blazing through wild bushes and grass. Dead leaves and pine needles are caught in furred clumps of moss, moss is also climbing up the tree trunks which tells Nesta they are very deep in the woods by now. There are acorns and pine cones scattered across the ground and Nesta has to make sure she does not stumble over them — she has to admit her Converse haven’t been the best choice of shoes, but the only. Cassian with his thick boots simply smashes the pine cones when he steps onto them and Nesta envies him for a moment.

The moment does not last too long. The silence of the early morning forest, only being disturbed by her heavy pants, soon gets interrupted by shots that are being fired behind them.

Pebbles crunch underneath their feet when the first shot reverberates through Nesta and she shudders, her legs slowing in shock. She feels like life has been sucked from her and she can't continue running, to caught in a stupor.

“They are shooting at us,” she brings out and realises how silly it is that she wasted energy and breath on in this statement. It was so useless, as the shot could not have gone unnoticed by Cassian.

“Fuckers,” Cassian grumbles next to her, still not letting go of her hand. It is the soft press of his palm against hers that brings her a little comfort in the midst of the uproar around them. Another shot is fire, and both don’t know where it landed or if it was close.

“Where to? We can never escape them,” Nesta queries, her voice ragged and horse. Her throat is one fire, so are her lungs and she can barely feel her legs anymore. She slows a little again, everything hurts too much.

Her stomach coils at the helplessness she is feeling — hasn’t she felt that weak in a long time. Not even when she was taken to the hospital did she feel like that. She is disappointed — in her herself, in her body. Could she really not make it? Could she really not bring herself to safety? Would this truly be her and Cassian’s end…because she failed?

“We can, I am not letting you die out here, Nes.” Cassian pulls her a little closer again, giving her hand a firm squeeze, his big feet hitting the ground in big steps while he tries to make Nesta follow his pace. He knows she is weak, having had no chance to train at all in the past years, but he needs her to go over her limits, to cross the line of pain. He needs her to be strong and deep in side he knows that she is strong — one of the strongest people he knows.

“Come on, Nes, you can do this—“

A shout of pain interrupts Cassian. The shout has sounded just a second after she has heard another shot and even though she does not dare look over she knows exactly what has happened. Knows exactly what has been done to Cass. But she does not want to believe it. It couldn’t have happened.

“Fuck!” Cassian growls and folds his hand over his lower belly where thick red liquid already starts to build up. What Nesta really admires in that moment is that he does not slow down, does not stop. He keeps up the pace, dragging his feet over the ground and pulling on Nesta’s hand, changing their directing again. The trees are standing closer together where they are heading now. There are even more pine needles on the ground and thicker, bigger bushes. They are now chopping their way through the undergrowth, shielding themselves from the attackers, hoping they go unseen.

“We hid here,” Cassian breathes and crouches down, pulling Nesta along with him. She topples slightly forward, tumbling onto Cassian and bracing her slim hands on his strong thighs, nothing but corded muscles underneath his pants.

“You have been shot,” Nesta shudders, and lifts her gaze to Cassian’s. Her right hand moves over her chest, hoping to calm her heavily beating heart, to regain her breath. “I’ve noticed that, Nes,” Cassian answers matter-of-factly. He brings both his hands up to lift the hem of his shirt and curses again. “Right through me,” he says and Nesta really does not want to look, does not want to see the wound, but she looks anyway. The bullet went write through the side of Cassian’s belly, blood pooling around it and running down his toned belly.

“Just a graze wound. It will heal.” He has noticed Nesta’s gloomy grimace, having felt her concern.

“We left all the medicine behind, Cassian, you need medical help.”

But Cassian gives his head a little shake and forces a weak smile onto his lips. “Are you worried about me, Nes?”

Yes! She wants to say, but does not. “I am worried about being alone out here,” she says instead and somehow wants to immediately take the words back when she sees how the smile falters from her companion’s face. But Cassian brushes it off and lets his hands fall to his thighs, his finger tips brushing Nesta’s. Oh God, why is her hand still there?, Nesta thinks and cringes internally.

She sharply pulls it back, pink splotches appearing on her cheeks and she quickly averts her gaze. “For how long are we going to stay here?” she hisses in a whispered voice.

They are only covered by a few bushes, it is not at all safe and once the sun has fully risen their cover will be for nothing.

Cassian does not answer immediately, he seems to deliberate, ponder about how their route should or would continue. He is unsure about what to do next, but he does not want Nesta to see his uncertainty. Also he does not want her to see his pain, because that damn wound hurts like hell. But he has to be strong fighter, the strong survivor, not only for himself but most importantly for her. He has promised to bring her to safety and to help her save the world. Yes, he does not like her that much, but letting her alone out here to die would never be an option. Even if it was the last thing he did, he would bring Nesta Archeron to safety.

“We need to listen now, figure out where they are. They turned off the engine, I assume.”

Nesta thinks so too. She doesn’t really think they have left — they are still out there, just waiting for them to make a move. When she looks back at Cassian she notices the thin film of sweat coating his forehead and his neck — cold sweat that is breaking out on his skin due to the injury.

If only she had taken the backpack with her… She could tend to his wound now, but no, obviously she had to forget about it. Doubt and regret fill her brain…is she really not good for anything? Has she not even been able to save her younger sister that one fateful night. She hasn’t seen Elain in nearly six years. She has no idea if she is alive. If Feyre knows, she has no idea.

Nesta clamps down on the rising emotions, biting the inside of her cheeks to stop the tears from building up in her eyes. Crying would be the last thing she would want now. Her chest still aches from sucking in the sharp breaths of cool air and her knees and legs and feet still hurt from running. Nesta moves into a kneeling position, hoping to be as calm as possible, and sits back down on her heels. “Your wound needs to be checked.”

She couldn’t lose another person because of her doings, of her failing. Back then Elain followed her outside when she went looking for Feyre. It was and still is her fault.

And if Cassian now as well —God forbid— dies because of her, she would never forgive herself for it. Yes, she does not like him that much but still, he has been kind to her and he has not chosen to escort her through Prythian, he has been tasked with it, has been pushed into just like she has.

She can barely finish the thought when another engine howls in the distance, a car nearing with great speed. Tree branches get smashes and crunched. More people are coming.

Nesta’s eyes widen in panic and she searches Cassian’s gaze. There is a gloomy grimace on his face and he opens his hand for Nesta to take it. “We make it out alive, Nes.”

Shots sound from all around them like thunder — there are so many and they are so loud their ear drums nearly burst. One can hear shouts, wails more shots and then there is nothing but silence.

Irritation coats Nesta’s insides and she folds the hand that is not in Cassian’s palm over her chest as if in pain. Her heart beats in her throat, her chest heaving with deep inhales. Cassian closes his eyes for a moment, waiting.

“Cass!” A male voice sounds and the former general’s eyes immediately snap open. He looks relieved, some colour returning to his face.

“Cass, where the fuck are you? The pager shows that you are close,” the male shouts, foot steps all of a sudden sounding closer. One can hear pebbles crunch, wood being shoved away. Nesta’s throat works on swallow and she tries to search Cassian’s gaze. The corner of his mouth lifts a little and then— “Az?” Cassian says loudly. “We are.”

Still holding Nesta’s, hand the general straightens up, pulls the young female with him and brushes the weathered branches out of their way.

A blood bath and several dead bodies are revealed to them and in front of them stands a male. Nesta has to admit that he looks incredibly handsome, wearing army pants, a black tight shirt that leaves little to nothing to imagination. His hair is dark, his skin tanned, he holds a huge rifle in his hand and when he sees the two of them, his lips form a smile. “There you are. I have been looking for you,” he says and stalks forward.

“You did that?” Cassian breathes and gestures to the dead bodies, his other hand still holding Nesta’s.

The male of the name Az inclines his head with graceful simplicity, cool indifference etched into his features.

The males makes bigger steps forward and Cassian slips his hand out of Nesta’s hold, pulling his friend in for a tight hug. “You saved our asses, Azzy. We owe you.”

Something dips low in Nesta’s belly — is this envy? Envy that Cassian has someone who saves his life, who comes to his rescue, who hugs him like a brother? Probably it is envy, mixed with disappointment. And sadness, hasn't she hugged her sisters in nearly six years.

Once having pulled back from the hug, Cassian decides it is time to introduce the two of them. “Azriel, my brother from another mother,” he says and grins, slowly bending forward when a rush of pain floods him. “Nesta Archeron, my immune companion.”

What a nice way to be introduced, Nesta thinks and extends her hands for Azriel to shake. The skin of his hands is marred with deep scars, but Nesta does not let her sympathy show, not knowing if he would appreciate it, and shakes his hand.

“He is hurt. Cassian got shot, he needs to be taken care of,” Nesta quickly says and practically feels how Cassian rolls his eyes next to her.

“Isn't the first time that happened, but thank you for informing me, the bastards wouldn’t have said anything for days. Again,” Azriel chuckles lowly and extends his arm, showing them to truck.

“But first we get out of here, back to where it is safe.” “Where to?” Nesta queries. Azriel's presence, and she really does not know why, makes her feel safe. With him she feels just as safe as with Cassian and that is odd, but also somehow a very welcomed feeling.

“Starfall basecamp. We just need to head a little north, it is a thirty minute drive,” Azriel explains when he opens his door, Cassian on the other side, but letting Nesta go in first.

“You have been watching me? Making sure I am safe, Azzy?” Cassian muses when he slides into the seat, his hand pressing down on his wound. He swallows a groan when he sits down, biting down on his lower lip to clamp down on the rising pain.

“I am making sure she is safe,” Azriel answers matter-of-factly.

~~~~~~

tags: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt@crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me@swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @headcanonheadcase @banasheefan56

#nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #acotar #nessian #nessian fanfic #acosf

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onyourhyuck · 3 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚 [ Season 3 ]

synopsis; • Fast forwarding six years, Park areum is coming back to the journalist industry. A case from thirteen years ago re-opens when Areum finds something suspicious around a drug ring in clubs and her parents car accident from thirteen years ago have suspicious links. However something always trails back to past that she’s never knew about.

warnings; • mafia jeno Au, mystery, thriller, SMUTTT NO MINORS, ANGST, police exo au, romance, park areum and lee jeno are married , minjae and nayoung are cuties, horror (scary death scenes). gruesome graphic detailed language.

Now Part 2 !! || —> Next Part 3.

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“How did you and dad meet?”

Areum turns around with slight surprise to the sudden question encounters to the surface, ever so slowly the blank expression on the boy’s face brings the woman to retrace her words, thinking before she speaks.

It was hard to explain, for anyone honestly. If only they knew the truth, in which Areum swears neither will ever know because this will go down to her grave.

“Ah well, Y’know. Work, honey. We met through work.” Areum slowly speaks, nodding her head, perhaps hoping it would make it much more believable for the little boy.

Minjae wasn’t sure what made him so sure that Areum felt so distant on the subject. The boy tilts his head, at the woman. “What made you fall in love with dad exactly? I mean, he seems kinda boring.” Areum’s face crumbles into surprising laughter, a banterous amount of serotonin to hear the quiet boy.

She comes forward to the dining table standing by the corner of the wooden antique, hand rubbing down Minjae’s soft silk black hair, through the fingers lovingly petting him downwards to the nape neck. “That’s a first I’ve ever heard.” Areum chuckles.

“I’ll be completely honest with you, Minjae-ah. I didn’t fall for your father at first. Nope nope, not at all.” Areum moves to the side until she sits by the end of the chair next to the boy nicely dressed in a white cottontail knitting sweater. His eyes timber worn out the sparkles. “Really? Then who did you love?”

There was something so nostalgic to hear your own son ask about the life you’ve lived before he was born into this menacingly large world with billion people living. Areum couldn’t put her sharp tongue on it even if she tried. The woman looks down, breaking away the eye contact as her fingers strut their way on the surface of the spruce wood.

Tracing along, until her finger wraps around Minjae’s smaller hands in her palm. Areum softly smiling as she looks up at the soft looking child. “I first fell in love with a person who was an amazing painter.”

Minjae quietly whoas. “Can i meet him someday, he sounds way cooler than dad.” Areum takes a moment to respond although she nods willingly, a thought came across that maybe she should speak truth to the boy; but that would be crushing the boy’s dreams.

“Of course you can, one day.” Areum stands up from the chair. “But, for now you should get your jacket and shoes on alright? we don’t want to keep auntie mina and uncle jisung waiting do we.”

The boy goes up leisurely and calmly, rather than an energetic child like nayoung would do— Minjae is much more reserved and soft spoken. “Okay mom.” minjae said, leaving the kitchen as Areum trails behind watching the boy get ready in the corridor where hung up jackets and laid shoes are on the storage shoe-holders.

the stairs creak showing a girl in a soft baby-pink dress and white knee high socks with elegant pin pointy princess shoes. Black hair tucked into a half up half down ponytail. The little girl jumps up and down all ready to go, awaiting. Behind her, appears a taller man in a fancy loose button shirt and black straight pinned trousers on the snatched waist.

“minjae let me fix your hair.” jeno said in almost demanding tone when he saw the still-made up before hair. areum smiles consciously at the sight, bringing Nayoung towards her to help put on the white jacket.

the boy protests when pulled into jeno’s hold in front of the hallway small mirror, groaning at the feeling of the large hands brushing through the hair and then styling it with a brush to make it fancy and neat. “Dad i don’t want my hair fixed.” he huffs out the chubby cheeks, Jeno smirking at the boy. “You’ll thank me later when young girls will come crawling to you.”

minjae let’s out a gasping raspberry. “ugh please never say that again. might Throw up.” the boy stands still when jeno pulls away laughing a little. he opened the door, with the car key button pressed allowing the parked car outside to make an audible beep.

“get in the car kids, me and mom will be right behind ya.” he tells them, watching the twins run out the door leaving the parents alone. areum slowly putting on shoes as she reaches to take the nearest jacket, but a hand stops her.

jeno ghosting hand onto hers where he grabs the jacket for his wife, slowly giving her the obvious look for areum to turn around and take the damn hint. the woman rolls her eyes jokingly, turning around now facing the mirror, jeno slipping on the jacket from behind right into her arms through and out.

she sighs dramatically. “I could’ve done it myself.” areum throwing the obvious out but jeno clicks his tongue, his structured face moving on the left side near the neck, the chin laying on the shoulders. He teasingly whispers, rasping out the words to rile areum up just for his own amusement to see the embarrassment. “Ah ah ah, you know a thank you could’ve been better to hear.” jeno throws.

“a thank you for something i could’ve done? how rich.” areum shot quickly, raising an eyebrow. jeno grins, hands moving to place themselves around the waist. “well, where is my thank you mrs lee?”

“Hmm.” comes out the uncertain sealed lips, areum shifts around her back where her face meets jeno’s closer, she leans and then stops. Looking down at the shirt’s collar where her fingers start to fix and fold it. “Thank you, my dear husband.” areum said, watching her lover’s expression go from teasing to smiley.

their lips connect together for a small loving kiss, the warmth passing through each other gracefully as if they could never get over their physical love as well as mentally too. the sweet moment, not wanting to break from the kiss, something had to interrupt. loud honk outside reveals their car shaking as the twins were clearly running rampage in the vehicle.

areum breaks away from the kiss in hurry, glancing back to the black car, shaking her head with a soft sigh. jeno removing hands from areum, watching the same scene as the woman.

“Look’s like someone’s impatient.” jeno quotes. In through the car window, seeing a tiny glimpse of the girl in the front driver seat pressing harshly on the stirring wheel to honk one more. “More like Nayoung.” He tells again grabbing the hung up house keys on the wall, areum following out of the door and then into the car. Jeno locks the door, securing the security to the fullest. Then joining his family in the car.

Off to pay a visit somewhere important.

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“You think they will come soon?” mina brings up, fiddling by the thumbs as she nervously glances to the side of the boy with a reassuring smile. he gently sweeps the hair on the side, tucks it in her ears behind. “of course, they are on their way. i just got a text.”

she sighs loudly. “okay, okay yeah.” jisung chuckles, he never saw his girlfriend be so nervous before, of course there were times where she did get anxious at times, but not effected this much. i mean, mina was practically shivering in her boots. “hey, babe. everything will be fine.” he’d tell.

mina looks at him lovingly, feeling the genuine love from the words of affirmations he spoke so gentle. he wasn’t impatient or portrayed himself annoyed at the overthinking mindless thoughts and scenarios that aren’t true. he told her the most important thing she needed to know.

that everything will be okay. she smiles as her forehead leans close, resting against his head on the very edge with his hair. “you’re right. this is only a scouting for a wedding dress.”

“mhm,” jisung sang. “so enjoy the moment. you’re supposed to be happy and excited to find the dress of your dreams, and your dreams only.”

Their gaze breaks when the younger girl pin points the family coming in the shop where they would be in the waiting reception marking area. the little boy and girl gasp as they saw mina and jisung sit up from their seats to greet them.

areum and jeno trailing behind the excited kiddos, each and everyone sharing smiles and exchanging happy eye glances.

“hey nayoung and minjae!” jisung tells and then mina kneeling down to hug the two children. areum stops crossing arms, “i’m going to cry.” she announces, one look at jisung and mina it took for her to get emotional.

jeno on the other hand wraps a hand round the devastated woman next to him, cheering up encouragingly to someone who hit rock bottom. jisung and mina share a gentle smile. especially, mina, shares an empathic look at areum. “Now now, don’t cry yet, hold it in. You can do it.”

it must be difficult for areum on this day, as well as jisung, though he was handling it pretty well. areum was trying her best. These two were on their own all their life, and a wedding was meant to be special. parents are a big part of wedding ceremonies and in general too; they didn’t have the generous experience to have their father walk them down the aisle, or their mother to give vows.

The same emotions crept up on the day areum married jeno, except jisung bawled heavily on the same night as he said his toasting wishes and gratitude at the wedding dinner table with many guests who possibly remember him for his crying face.

jisung laughs, provokingly nudging his older sister’s elbows. “I’m not at the aisle yet so don’t go crying on me yet.” areum scoffs looking up and down the tall 6ft boy, don’t ask when he had a growth spur, the boy catches her by surprise every-time.

“shut up, don’t tease me.” areum trails and looks around, noticing that the twins started wedding dress hunting without them. “Oh god the twins are already gone in the dress section.” she exhales.

Mina smiles. “I’ll go with them, but I’ll be needing your help areum.” the younger girl softly asks with her palms out to be held. areum never hesitated to hold those hands, walking with Mina to the dress sections in the large shop. “let’s go Mina.”

The boys were right behind them like guarding dogs, the shop was pretty crowded so not only were they looking at other newly engaged couples walking about the shop sections for tuxedos and dresses— their eyes had to maintain watch on the hyperactive children while the two girls would be busy.

minjae glances around the few mannequins as Nayoung was completely lost in the tuxedo section. now, these two mini beasts were separated. not a great sign.

“i’ll go and watch over minjae, stay and keep an eye on nayoung.” jeno sets commands as he leaves leaving the boy alone with the girl standing next to his long extending legs. the tiny human below him looks up, giggling.

jisung whispers under his breathe as their eyes maintain eye contact with the little child. He can’t help but beg and pray in his mind ‘please lord, give me strength to look over this girl.’ With honesty, Nayoung was a difficult child to maintain.

not that she was a bad child, not at all. she’s an angel, but the amount of energy she can take and make is unnecessarily overpowering. Not only is she such an extroverted child, she speaks for days and days.

Sometimes it’s a bit too much to comprehend and listen to. jisung doesn’t have that much brain power. he waves a short smile at Nayoung. “You like any of these dresses, Nayoung?”

the girl looks about, she shrugs those small carve shoulders. “i haven’t really looked properly at them yet. Uncle Ji, do you have a suit yet?”

“I do, you’ll see it at the wedding. How about we help search for wedding dresses for Mina?” jisung crouches down, holding nayoung’s side as he lifts her up. the brave girl looking about with such height comparison to her own. He walks about, where Nayoung has view of everything and anything, she’d gently exclaim in small fonts waws and awes. The pleasant face on her was key to jisung’s success to the talkative young girl.

On the other side, Jeno would be watching Minjae look around the tuxedos with a curious eye. The way his son loses himself in so many clothes hung up and wore on the mannequins seems to be overwhelming the sight and bland it a little bit.

Minjae lowly expresses. “Is marriage important, dad?”

Jeno shifts about as he was taking his time looking at the suits wrapped in the plastic bags, with keen eyes admiring the expensive beauty of the branded clothing. He looks away, pulling his hands and body off, turning around with hands slipping down the front pockets as eyes lower to watch Minjae.

the little boy would be sitting down on the shop’s fancy cushion chairs, hands tucked under the legs and feet dangling on the chair side by side. “That depends, I’m afraid Minjae.” jeno sighs out.

it seems like his son has always been thinking deeply about things and those would be many things. Minjae comes up with philosophical questions about the most ponderous subjects— whether it would be about earth ending, something scientifically new discovered, or heavily religious. The boy has his thirst of knowledge from his mother, it shows.

“What do you mean about that?” Minjae trails, raising eyebrows confused. Jeno hums, comfortably enjoying the mere silence away from the chattering outside. Seems like most customers are here for dresses rather than tuxs. “Well, depending on person. Many people have different views on marriage I’m afraid.”

“What’s your opinion on marriage then?” Minjae was quick to ask, Jeno smiles at the sudden hurried question, he approaches the boy and decides to sit next to him. “It’s important. I married your mother.”

The boy smiles hearing the words from his father’s lips. In all honesty, Minjae admires his father a lot but he never tells him much, unlike when he is with his mother he speaks his entire life away. But with his father, he talks the right amount of silence and words all in one. You suppose it would be their dynamic.

he’s a mommy’s boy at heart and nayoung’s a daddy’s girl at hers, nevertheless, minjae and jeno have a good relationship enough where Minjae can roasts his father but as well as ask for advice.

Minjae looks around trying to figure what else to ask, but jeno caught on quick when the small eyes falter away from his own. “shhh,” jeno sways as he stands on the chair closing his eyes shut, enjoying the final silence. Minjae murmuring. “don’t tell me you’re going to sleep here?”

jeno chuckles. “what if i am?” Minjae chills out a silent scoff. “fine sleep, i’ll go and join others .” Jeno hears the boy say, standing to walk away. Seeing the boy make his own decision, jeno has no choice but to stand away, following with a soft yawn from the lips. he can’t sleep if Minjae moves around, after all he’s keeping an eye on him.

The shorter lean woman turns around the small landing mirror hanging to the left wall on her side. The reflection of herself in the mirror makes her sigh, unable to make a conclusion herself of what she looks like— if it looks good ok her, if she should look at different styles because mayhaps this one wasn’t right for her. Who would’ve known shopping for a dress was this tiresome and stressful?

Mina turns around, she pulls the black curtains off revealing the shuffling noises. The family in the fitting section sitting on the fancy cushion couches while jisung was sitting on a cushion chair next to them where anticipating the look on mina. Areum told them to stay excited, because this was the best dress out of everything they saw.

The fancy white heels scrape the floor, every echoes sends the waiters in the oblivion, but when the sight of the flowey fabric, v heart shape necktie exposing right amount of cleavage, with laced beadings and patterns imprinted on it as well as downwards to the skirt wrinkles. Mina’s small arms lift the skirt up, going up on the alter where she spins herself around on a much bigger mirror reflecting back. There was silence from her, but from the mini audience, far from silent.

Nayoung croaks out quietly under her breathe, usually, she would be loudly cheering like the youthful child she is, but this time she’s quiet. the princess-like girl was lost for words. “wow, auntie mina…”

The boy in the middle besides Nayoung, sparkles glancing up at mina. “is this what a real princess looks like?”

jeno smiles turning to look at the other boy next to him, sitting all alone. The side profile scene of seeing jisung’s face lit up with full blown heart eyes coming out his eyes, the younger man felt exactly like he’s in love again with his college sweetheart. Teasingly, Jeno pats the boy’s shoulders.

He sighs mentally, he told himself and areum he wouldn’t feel emotional, but he surely did feel something when he saw Jisung’s grown up face, realising that he no longer is this nineteen year old kid he was once years ago. He’s a man getting married, starting a family with his fiancé.

“Do you…like it guys?” Mina nervously brings up. “Like it?” Areum repeats, shakily breathing. The family turn to watch the older woman, who stands up approaching Mina. The younger girl squeaks anxiously, whispering aloud. “Do you hate it? I’ll take a look elsewhere if it isn’t great, Areum.” The girl was met with a soft smile, tears running down Areum’s face.

“No, it’s perfect Mina. I love it.” She chokes out a sob, bringing Mina down the altar and wrapping arms around the young girl ready to be wedded any moment now. Mina tries her best to not burst into tears with areum, but eventually joins her in the overwhelming emotions. “You’re beautiful in any dress however this one…you look like a true bride.” Areum speaks softly pulling her face from the side, facing Mina.

Areum wipes those salty tears away with her thumb very carefully, Mina looking up at Areum. “Thank you, sis.” She whispers. “I think the boys are probably crying more than us.”

The grin grows on both their faces as they turn around, seeing the two men looking away wiping away their tears. Jeno crying on the inside however, Jisung was the opposite where he cries outwardly a waterfall.

“God you’re beautiful Mina, I- I still feel like this is a dream.” Jisung stutters standing up, Mina chuckles bringing the boy in an embrace. “Gosh, you’re crying this much and it’s not even the wedding day.” Mina teases.

Jisung could only laugh, returning the embrace back with his arms around the back. The fiancée couple taking a moment for themselves, leaving their family stranded for a moment or two. Nayoung jumps up on Jeno’s lap, cheering.

“Yay, auntie found her dress right before the wedding is round the corner.” Nayoung happily sways with the princess-pointy shoes, standing on the muscle thighs of her dad with ease. He would maintain hands around the legs and clothes she’s wearing to hold the young girl balanced to not fall. Jeno murmuring, “be careful, you don’t want to injury yourself before the wedding right?” The little girl arrogantly scolds.

“Me? Fall over? Could never happen.” She cheekily adds an extra daring step ahead, Jeno warningly putting a hand following each footstep. Areum on the other hand busily wipes away the tears, Minjae calmly passing more tissues for his mom.

Then a slip casually happens so quickly before their eyes where areum gasps to see the young girl sleep off the very edge and fall backwards right above a glass table where she could, possibly shred herself on the glass and hurt herself. Minjae and Areum were froze to shock, unable to get themselves to catch Nayoung. But a hand pulls on the young girls arms, roughly pulling her back into a tough chest in the white button up shirt.

Jeno silently took Nayoung pulling her with enough reach, where the girl did not fall on such dangerous antique. Areum moved over Nayoung and Jeno, glancing at the scared girl with a scolding worrisome face.

“Lee Nayoung don’t ever do such a dangerous thing again.” Areum whisper shouts, holding Nayoung’s hands. The girl going slightly pale, her life flashed right before her eyes but thankfully her father pulls her to safety. She nods quietly, whispering. “Sorry mom and dad, I won’t do that again.”

Jeno sits up resting Nayoung on his lap seated, deeply sighing. “Okay, don’t do it again.” He looks up to his death-scared wife, holding the little girl. “It’s alright, I’ve got her Areum.” he said.

Areum shakes her head, holding her own chest, heart beating so fast it’s far from unable to count. “God, that scared us all.” Nayoung sniffling on the side, moving to her mother’s arms, to be in her motherly embrace because she felt bad and now only that— she’s still paralysed with a little fear.

Her mother tucks her into an loving hug, hushing the little cries from the girl, rubbing the neat straight black hair on her palms. “It’s okay baby, sorry i yelled” areum tells softly. Nayoung clenching her face on her mother’s shoulder leaving it there. “Please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

Areum softly smiles. “I was never mad at you in the first place, so don’t cry anymore, it’s okay.” She’d lift Nayoung to look at her, grabbing a tissue which Minjae hands over to console his sister and mother. Jeno pulls the wet hair strands sticking to her cheeks, tugging them behind her ears. “Cheer up, princess, I’ve got you didn’t I?”

“Yeah, dad saved you.” Areum brings up magically, Nayoung giggling at the nickname. Minjae whispers to his sister as he holds her hand, also comforting her. “I’m glad you’re smiling again.”

Mina and jisung arrive in their normal clothes with the wedding dress nicely packaged away into this plastic bag container. The couple look at them with a smile, as then all of them together walk out of the shop. Nayoung and Minjae running around the parking lot carefully, with the adults speaking together.

Jisung brings himself to his silver car, opening the back of the boot where he places the dress down neatly. Mina sighs out, grinning.

“Thank you for joining us again.” Mina trails, she has many things to be grateful for and Areum with Jeno we’re one of them.

Areum groans out. “Come on, we’re family. You don’t need to thank us.” She tells and hugs Mina once more, then letting go. Jisung approach’s as he hugs Jeno and then let’s go off the man too.

“Come, Jisung where’s my hug?” Areum spoke out, opening the arms. Jisung whistles looking away, annoying his older sister to grunt out and hit his arm. “Ow ow relax” Jisung chuckles out, moving to hug Areum seriously this time.

Areum huffing. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Jisung raised an eyebrow when he lets go off the woman, facing her. “You make it sound like it’s impossible.”

“I mean, honestly I thought it would be. I always thought you were going to be this nineteen year old boy stuck with me forever.” Areum let’s out, watching Jisung. The boy softly smiled, he knows that she was his parent as well as his sister.

At times, he thanks her the most. She raised him to the person he is today, he’s grateful for her sacrifices she’s made just to make sure he has a life to enjoy. By any means, from his teenage years up until old he, Areum made it worth living for. Even when the times were dark for both.

Now, he hopes he can be more reliable for his sister where she has a shoulder and pillar to cry for, where she doesn’t need to overally exceed herself for him. It’s his turn to take care of her now.

“Thank you, noona.” Jisung said, smiling. He sees the woman raise her eyes up confused by the sudden confession, but nevertheless a sweet smile nervously forms on the face like sunrise on the sky. “Don’t be silly why are you thanking me.” Areum looks around.

“For everything, but I’ll save that speech for the wedding.” Jisung replies and turns to Jeno with a grin. “Thank you as well for marrying my sister even though she’s crazy to handle.” The boy bows his head dramatically with respect where Jeno smirks tucking hands in the front trousers.

These two boys will always clown Areum. The woman pouts half annoyed, containing the smile to laugh. She rushed to Jisung, where the boy was already running away from her knowing she would chase him to get revenge on his words. Seriously? Her crazy? Underestimation. She’s unhinged.

Jeno and Mina stand side by side watching their lovers simply run about like lunatics, Areum yelling out ‘Me crazy? Oh Park Jisung I’ll show you crazy. What do you mean crazy!’ While Jisung simply replies with ‘Sorry, my bad let me rephrase. You’re a nut case.’

Mina wasn’t sure, if these two were the biggest kids or if Minjae and Nayoung were the kids out of them.

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The woman sighs in her bedroom, a laptop on her thighs as she was laying down half way, in a sitting up position with her back pressing on the bed’s wooden frame. Scrolling past the case file she found online, thanks to an unique source of being the mafia’s wife.

It comes with handy powers that helps Areum with work, especially the source called Lee Haechan. Her best friend was her little spy and not like he has much choice anyways, aruem always ends up having haechan around her finger tightly wrapped and unable to escape her and her tricks.

While Jeno and the children were having dinner, Areum wasn’t quite hungry yet so she began to work on the case finally again, it was a long day but might as well do something a bit productive at the end with work.

Although nothing major and out of the ordinary was found and Areum hits a dead end. With a sigh crossing those lips, she looks away from the screen rubbing the eyes, feeling them ache and born due to watching the screen for so long.

“A dead end, freaking fantastic.” Areum mutters, sarcastically, the workaholic woman slides the silver laptop on the bed stand table next to her bed, leaving the shared master bedroom.

Lounging down the stairs where she was met with children watching the tv, a Disney classical movie: frozen, On the screen. She smiles, Nayoung and Minjae tucked in the same blanket together, leaning on each other peacefully with their smiles growing every time Olaf the snowman was on the screen.

But no sign of Jeno. Areum quietly walks away from the tv living room, moving around the long hallway with multiple passages, going through the first one by the big open doors.

Jeno would be standing by the counter with a warm brewed tea with a bag, where his hands flip it up and down in the boiling water in the cup to squeeze out every flavour in it. He would be making two rather than just one.

She stands by the hallway, whistling as her eyes watch his back from behind admiring the view of the waist and back muscles, even though he wore a white shirt it shown through. The V shaped back and broad shoulders with arm muscles were to die for.

The man hears her, calmly turning around to bin away the used teabags after using it, he looks up seeing the comfortably woman, dressed in a pair of pyjama shorts and a soft cotton tank top. Hair in a messy bun, leaving baby hairs to poke out. She has quite the sore eyes, as they were tearing up from the amount of screen time she has on the laptop.

Guess that’s the payback you get for being a journalist always documenting things online.

He smiles flashing Areum the warm mug of tea in her hands, she takes it with a short smile, goes to sip the warm brew flavour. “You finished work?” Jeno states.

Areum hums loudly. “Yeah, I’ll need to find better leads tomorrow it seems.”

“I think,” Jeno paused as he puts his tea down no longer drinking it, he wraps himself around Areum where those same warm hands pull the woman by the waist, staying there like they were a permanent resident. “You need to forget work for at least twenty four hours.”

She scowls a pout, even the sound of that sounds quite literally impossible. She’d sigh out. “What about you hm? Don’t think i know what you’re up to when you’re working on the weekend just as much as i am.”

Busted, Jeno thought. He lets out a managed groan, although he smirks when he goes to kiss her forehead. “So stubborn.”

Areum agrees, no doubt. “That’s my charm.”

He audibly laughs. “And so darn insufferable.” Areum raised her eyes, repeating. “That’s also my charm.”

“Always have a comeback for everything i say.” He’d tell, rubbing circles on the waist with his thumbs. Areum tensing up by the actions although she smirks, keeping composure. She leans closer, giving a soft kiss on his lips leaning the man stranded in his surprise.

One soft kiss turns to a long term seal, where jeno goes in for the action with passion, kissing areum deeply. Their eyes closed, lost in each other’s love for a second before Areum pulls away with enough strength. It was hard for these two to stop after they only just began. But you’d suppose it’s not.

Areum breathes out, the flavour of the tea lingering on each other’s swollen warm burning lips. “Love you,” areum whispers, reaching for a final peck on the lips.

She then leaves with her tea to go and watch frozen with the children so casually, as if she just didn’t makeout with him in the kitchen, and as if she didn’t start it first by kissing him and leaving him flustered and hot bothered now.

Jeno blinks at the empty space where she left him, he stutters out a sigh. “I love you, she said. She kissed me like there was no tomorrow.” He turns around rubbing the red cheeks, looking in the kitchen window reflection. “This is all your fault.” He murmurs.

Seriously, Areum did this to mess with his head, he knows it. Little does he know, his wife was smirking so much with proudness that she was able to effect Jeno this much; guess a little torture didn’t sound too bad to do.

Masterlist to chapters link here.

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bearseokie · 3 years ago

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A PRICE WORTH PAYING.

never a freelance worker, hyunwoo has always had his tie a little too tight around his neck. when bullets fly at your innocent head, he realizes those that are after you aren’t out for a bounty, but for blood. palm around his gun at his waist and you in his peripheral, it’s not a day’s work well done until you’re safe.

DETAILS — [ 18+ | hitman: agent 47 | 6.3k ] GENRES — hitman! au, romance, thriller, smut, angst WARNINGS — mature content, violence, organized crime, victimization, uncomfortable situations, intense situations, kidnapping, blood, severe injuries (gunshot wounds & cuts), language, self defense, height difference, death. SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, unmentioned but protected intercourse, love-making. RELEASED ON — JULY 30TH, 2022.

spotify playlist // a price worth paying

LAST | FATAL LOVE SERIES MLIST | TAGLIST | NEXT

prologue.

His features, stern at first glance but gentle with a stare. You had caught his sight as you turned onto the walkway, closing in on the hotel door. Hat placed perfectly, outfit fresh from the cleaners inside the hotel, and his guidance of a nod as his large hand opened the door for you.

He seemed to fit in so well. His coat fit perfectly, shoes so shiny you could see the reflection of the lights above as you walked by. It was almost believable that his current occupation was his only one.

Losing his eye contact, it was the first mistake.

You felt the air shift behind you as you moved inside, the doors closing at your entrance. With no one else inside the main lobby except the man at the front desk, you could have been convinced the two-in-the-morning arrival was considered the safest route.

Things had gone so awry, all you wanted was one night of good rest. Being placed at a motel seemed fit for the situation—but no one would call for help over destructive noises occurring until they witnessed a scene themselves. A safehouse—secluded and mundane, the peace could only distract you for so long.

The man at the front desk peered up momentarily, finishing the last few words on the keyboard of his computer. Unlike the silence of the door-man, his gravelly voice found you odd.

"Isn't it late for someone like you to be out alone?" Ignoring all sense of what could have happened to get you to this point in time, the man went on. "And, I mean—shouldn't you have a partner?"

The prying of a stranger, it sends chills up anyone's spine.

"Is there a problem?" You wanted the voice to be his. To be just as the same as you had heard it be once. The way he had swooped in, stuffed any sort of uncomfort from your situation—but he didn't disturb the humanity in act.

It had been the man at the front desk's voice, your diverting eyes merely upsetting him as the redness in his face brightened and the vein in his forehead became visible.

"I-I am sorry." Your voice was always so small when someone bit at you like this. "May I have a room for the night?"

"Just one night?"

The first time you had noticed his placement was so vivid. How he always matched the settings, didn't stand out—he couldn't stand out. Always watching you from afar.

All you had seen of him was the right side of his face, the man sitting in the driver's side of your car being the complete opposite of what you know him as now. He hardly spoke, only repeating your directions and asking if the air being on was alright.

All it took was a second. A blink of an eye for his work to turn upside down, and for him to find himself saving the one he was meant to be taking out.

The bullets had shot into the vehicle so fast, his knuckles turning white around the wheel as he gripped harder. He took sharp turns, his only instructions for you to check your seatbelt and stay tucked down.

There was an unsaid rule that when danger seeps past the target and heads for him, he has to get involved. Seeing things out, keeping the blood on his own hands instead of yours—it was a priority that could cost him everything and more. What he knew, what he was capable of, who he worked for, and why it was him in that driver's seat that day—if he didn't get answers, all of this would have been for nothing. And something he believes most of all, nothing happens without a cause or reason.

Even in his world, he can't help impulses.

"Just one night."

You rocked on your heels awaiting a card to give you fortress, attempting to avoid the itch you could never scratch. So close, so far—how could you be so stupid to believe someone would take a chance on you like this?

Your soft breath in was enough to help you hold in your desires, to quiet your mind from its racing thoughts. A card between your middle and index fingers, and all you could want was for someone else to be by your side at this moment in time.

Dragging along one lonesome bag almost too heavy to be on your shoulder, the weight began to float off of you. It was just around a corner when your eyes matched a pair of dark irises, the man that allowed you to enter the hotel in the first place now carrying your bag at his side like it was his.

His walk, left hand at his waist, right hand tight and strong carrying the bag—moving along like no one could ever get in his way.

The security of the elevator doors opening at the touch of his finger, the ding ringing out and giving you enough leverage to finally give him a better glance.

Tall, focused, and wearing a bell-boys outfit.

His figure stood over yours, eyes straight forward and alleviating every nerve in your body. You could feel the cool air seeping back into your pores, feel the release of your tight temples, and even more so—feel the heat radiating off his body as he stood so close to you in such a small space.

"Please tell me this time will be different."

You hardly caught the inhale making his chest expand, the lift of his cheek as his lips made a short-lived smirk.

He didn't even have to look back at you, his voice only sounding from his face. "With your life on the line?"

Hyunwoo always knew what to do or say, almost as if the man had telekinesis.

"Not a chance."

one. | change of plans.

In order to gain your trust, Hyunwoo had explained everything to you that evening. As the car sped in the fast line down multiple main highways to deviate your trace, he had rattled off everything he knew about you.

"This doesn't make any sense." The first sentence was under his breath, his eyes capturing your figure beginning to move back into the seat instead of the bent over position he told you to hold during the intense car chase.

"My order was for you." The way his top lip bounced, spasmed from the words he was speaking and giving a tell of where his anger lied. At first, you couldn't differentiate if he was upset about not taking out his target, or being in the line of fire now, himself. "What would the exchange even be for?"

Your head shook, eyes diverting to the extremely clean leather interior to attempt to side track your racing thoughts. As you clung to your single bag, the one you had already been living out of for almost a month when more and more people mentioned you seemed to be getting followed—it was hard to not shake from the sudden announcement of your once hitman now being the one in charge of your life, and practically holding you captive in a vehicle moving at the highest speed legally possible.

It only took two of the people in your life to be overtaken by fear on their face while telling you something was wrong. A family member you had been with all your life asking why there was someone following you, a tall man who stayed at a far distance. A close companion who you spent almost every day with finally became able to explain the man's features, and even more importantly—the pistol he carried, shown by its shape against the black dress shirt he wore.

"The order came from my boss." His knuckles would turn white every so often as he drove, eyes mainly focused on the road and only blinking from bumps along the highway. "There has to be something more than this."

"Uhm—" That small voice, always an octave lower than it should be when you're trying to get someone's attention. Even with the sound of the wind whipping against the large SUV, with Hyunwoo's mind trying to relap every step he took to get to this dangerous point—he still looked up through the mirror to meet your gaze for a split second.

"Yes?" The man was cold, he had to be to work this job. And yet, there was something about how he always had to make eye contact with you at least once when conversing with you.

"Wh-Who are you? What's your name?"

The man's quick blink made your brows thread together from curiosity. Why was the question so perplexing?

"You clearly know who I am. Or at least, I hope you do from the way you're speaking about me. I just—" He sat in silence, listening to every syllable of your words like a song on the radio you haven't heard in years. "—w-want to know what's going on."

That was the first time you had witnessed Hyunwoo take in a deep breath. The way his chest rose, the buttons on his dress shirt beneath his coat merely snapping at the thread from the muscles he gained from his healthy lifestyle and life-threatening occupation. His thumb tapped at the steering wheel in such a human way, you began to focus on the things that make him more and more like a man working a job instead of some trained assassin he actually lived and worked as.

His brow lifted, shiny features and dark eyes finding you quickly in the rear-view mirror once more. "My name is Hyunwoo. I work for the International Contract Agency as a hired assassin. My job today was to take you to a secluded area and clean, but our sudden chase changed plans. Now I believe that there is something wrong with the situation, and someone gave me orders to put me in danger with you for a reason, as a ploy."

His response sounded robotic, his grip tightening on the wheel and eyes suddenly sinking into themselves as he spoke. The man seemed too picture perfect, seemed to already have the answers to the questions that would leave your mouth—and very quickly was becoming the ally you needed to survive this mess.

"Hyunwoo." His name rolling off your tongue caused him to look at you through a glance of the mirror once more, the final rise of his eyes for the hour making a shiver go down your spine. "Where are we going, e-exactly?

"We're taking this SUV to a far away repair shop. It'll be enough of a reason to stop."

"Why do we need a reason to stop?"

He always answers your question to the best of his ability, and almost right on queue.

"We're being tracked through a device hidden underneath the vehicle." His words made your eyes grow and hands shake, but this time he didn't have to look back to feel your discomfort. "It's okay. There's not a microphone, we can converse as necessary. We're taking this SUV to the repair shop to make it look like a casual stop for help, while it's actually a diversion to slip away."

"You really do this full time, huh?" Your question was the first normal sounding sentence during the entire conversation.

What followed up to such a casual question was something you had been biting your tongue instead of asking—the one you knew he would have an answer for, but that you probably wouldn't like hearing.

"Hyunwoo—" The use of his name again only made his eyes flicker, an obvious sign that the use of a title, one not numbered, was new to him. "What's the plan?"

"We make a run for it. Together."

"Why together? I-I mean—" You stuttered, but meant what you were saying. "A matter of minutes ago you were meant to be putting a gun to my head and blowing my brains out."

"It's not like that." First, he spoke under this breath again as you ranted.

"Then you realized they were shooting at you, too." You carried on like you didn't hear him speak. "So you jumped to conclusions that you're part of this now."

Hyunwoo was the exact description that had come from your close friend. Dark brown hair, even darker—almost scary eyes, the black dress shirt, the pistol at his waist, tall according to the shallow sight you had of his high knees letting you know his legs are long, and clearly on a mission to carry out something considering his stalking. Now the man that was once to be your killer was a sudden main companion—things seemed too strange to be true.

"Jumped to conclusions?" Secondly, his nose scrunched at your words and knuckles tightened again around the wheel.

"And now if we're both not careful, we'll end up dead!"

It was his sudden press to the gas pedal that made the vehicle fly even faster than it had. A swipe at the blinker to show he was changing lanes, the car swaying all the way over to the far right, and his last movements were placing the emergency lights on and putting the SUV in park.

Just as he turned around in his seat—those dark eyes matching your own face to face for the first time making your heart race—did Hyunwoo speak directly to you, not at you.

"You're scared, right?" His words were snappy, you could only nod your head like a child. "I'm right here."

You could feel your temple releasing at those three words, feel the tears that had been threatening to drip from your eyes falling down your face and splattering your shirt with small dots. Everything that had occurred in such a short time was finally coming to you all at once, and Hyunwoo was making it a point that you're not alone in this anymore.

"I've been following you for a month."

"I-I know."

"I never follow anyone for that long." For once, the man was only spitting the truth without sugar-coating or speaking of it without emotion at all. "Something told me you were different. That this was going to be different. I just didn't understand why my conscience knew more than I did."

A man, trained and signed to the largest assassination company. Clearly a hybrid of something else to make everything about him and all he needs to do his job sharper. And slowly beginning to find a more human side to himself based off the way his voice shook and eyes watered for what seemed like the first time ever in his life.

"I can promise you one thing will come out of this. Only one."

"Okay." Your voice was small again, just above a whisper from his close proximity. His entire self focused on you and your response.

"I am going to protect you with my life."

two. | diversion.

The first time you witnessed Hyunwoo raise his pistol—you got the official wave of just how weak you were considering the circumstances.

It didn't take long for someone to come looking for the two of you once the SUV was held still. Raised and being worked on, an attending employee just doing their job—and the entire building exploding minutes later.

You could hear the blast, even at the distance Hyunwoo managed to get both of you by that time. All it took was the car sitting still for ten minutes before the ones in your pursuit configured the vehicle to be parked, and the two of you may still be in it.

Hyunwoo's strong hand grabbed at your wrist, tugging you along the busy streets and looking like nothing more than an overbearing boyfriend or husband to all the wandering eyes. Everyone was soon diverted to the sudden explosion, your limbs shaking while you got out of sight.

"W-What is going on?" Even with Hyunwoo in your lead, his promise to protect you, and his quick witted responses and actions—your body still naturally held enough anxiety to make you pop.

"Hey." His voice had gone softer, the fear in your eyes making him halt in place and press your back into the wall.

His index finger lifted your chin, those dark eyes you had seen so few times now in direct line with your own, and easing your worry in a second. "Look at me."

Your blinking eyes, shivering limbs, and hair-raised skin was enough to tell him you were in over your head, and he needed to be the one on alert. "I've got us. Let's just get somewhere out of the public’s sight."

But the footsteps tailing you sounded just as loud as Hyunwoo's. Movements are quick, just far enough behind the two of you to not be in sight. Hyunwoo was well aware—it seemed almost too obvious that no one would be right behind you.

But watching him grab you and place your body behind his, your back to another chilled wall, and his pistol raised and cocked—he was really someone with complete control.

A true example of just how far into this world Hyunwoo was—the unknowing man ran right into his bullet. A graze to his skull, not a bad enough shot to kill him—but still enough to put him down for good.

Hyunwoo's eyes studied the man, his brows knitted but not in confusion. His facial expression concluded that he had seen the chaser once or twice before, a familiar look in his eyes. The man wept on the ground, reaching up to try and grab at Hyunwoo, but ultimately failed. "Come on."

And soon enough, that exact situation seemed to repeat itself over and over. A far distance that seems like enough, a chase of rushing adrenaline and you clinging to Hyunwoo's frame like he was your human shield, ending in someone's severe take down giving you and him more time to keep running.

Easy to say, you didn't sleep for at least two months while on the run.

Every motel seemed the same: the dim lighting, early 2000's style cable TV, barely any heat or air conditioning, snacks from vending machines becoming meals, and hard mattresses with years of use in every fiber of them.

His fingers would tap at the suitcase style laptop, programs and dissectors making it easier for him to narrow down information. Be it the company he worked for, older clients with a sudden need for a bounty on his head, or something involving yourself—he spent countless nights digging for any kind of red flag.

"You—" His words sounded stuttered for the first time, your eyes from across the room catching his stunned face. "—are you an h-heir?"

"An heir?" You lifted yourself from the bed, pacing in his direction only to find exactly what he had been reading over for an hour now.

Lines of code broke down three subtle sentences of an email sent to whoever was chasing you, found by Hyunwoo who now could only tap his foot against the old carpeting in wonder.

"Heir to millions. Hitman in service. Target to be apprehended."

"Hyunwoo—" Your sight reading the words made your knees feel weak. "What does this mean?"

"It means you've been given a beneficiary title by someone, and will be receiving millions of dollars."

"I don't even think anyone in my family has made this much in their life."

"They don't actually have to be family." He spoke with softer words, watching as your body moved into the seat beside him at the small table before you fell over. "Anyone can give someone an inheritance through their will."

"H-Hitman in service?"

"That would be the ones who keep following us." His eyes quickly reverted back to the screen of the laptop, pupils dilating at the sudden change of brightness from the dark motel room to the device. "There hasn't been an update since the day you got into the SUV. Which means more has been devised, it's just not addressed in any more emails or messages—unless it's coded."

"And they had sight of me." You had caught on to what the lines meant by now, Hyunwoo only nodding.

"This is all—" If tears could flow, they would be rushing like a waterfall in this very moment. "—because of me? Something I didn't even know was happening?"

"Greed." The word slipping off Hyunwoo's tongue was like the bullets he had shot rounds of trying to protect you. "It's the worst human desire."

You watched him close the laptop and stretch his back, the man's sight soon falling back on your own.

"We've been here almost twenty-four hours." You winced at the idea of having to run again, the pained look on your face making him shake his head.

"Does it ever get easier?" So simple to you, but a question that would linger in his mind forever.

"Not without a direct link to who is calling the shots." Hyunwoo spoke with the same emotionless voice you had come to know, except this time it seemed to leave him for just a moment. "But until then—"

How can a stranger become a lifeline to you in a few months time, and yet still feel like you don't even know him?

"You've got me."

three. | when I take your hand.

You had seen more bloodshed in the months you resided by Hyunwoo than you would ever see in your life. Every chance he had to take, pushing you ahead of him to aim or jab at the ones in pursuit—he took it.

But Hyunwoo had once been the one with blood pouring from him, your shaking hands trying to hold a cloth to the wound. The crimson liquid only soaked through every piece of fabric you placed against it, a sudden flash of worry across your face.

The two of you had finally fallen inside a safehouse completely unknown by anyone else but Hyunwoo, and now yourself. The walls were stiffened by plates of armor within the drywall, bulletproof windows still giving you sight to the world outside you could no longer live in, and Hyunwoo—leaning backward as his arm took yours to capture your attention.

“I’m okay.”

“Okay, meaning you need stitches.” The gash had run deep, the ongoing blood being a sign that the wound wouldn’t just heal itself without medical attention.

“Hand me that box there.” His chin pointed in the direction of the first aid kit, a small tin box being what his eyes glanced at before finding your dilating pupils again. “And go find something else to do.”

Your fingers matched his as the box lifted and left your grasp. It only took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was inside, a nylon string and metal needle enough to make you deviate your eyes.

“Fuck.” You winced.

“That’s why I said leave.” The corner of his mouth rose with what seemed like a smirk, fingers pulling at the needle and string until it was placed through the eye and being tied. Dipping the needle into a disinfectant, he pulled at the skin around the injury before poking at himself with the sharp object.

The limited dribbles of blood that left him was nothing like the full wound, itself. Although he kept the items disinfected, there wasn’t anything placed along the wound to numb the pain he was about to feel. But nothing caused him to wince or breathe harder, a steady pace of Hyunwoo’s breath as he stitched himself up making you wonder just how many times he had done this to himself.

“How does that not hurt?” The question left you without thinking, speaking aloud as you watched him snip at the nylon thread once it was secured properly.

“I’ve had lots of practice.” He answered, eyes not looking back up at yours as they usually did.

“On yourself?”

“And on others.”

“You have too much experience in everything.” You sighed, shaking your head.

His eyes finally found you, catching a glimpse at the small cut on your shoulder showing through the ripped fabric of your shirt. “Looks like you were in the crossfire too.”

“We both were. That was too close of a call, Hyunwoo.”

Two men had trailed you down the longest road, your security being in every object that got you out of sight as Hyunwoo searched for a vehicle that was easy to break into. Ducking, weaving, clasping at the man as he led you away—you were both still hit by the strings of bullets sent in your direction, only his was worse.

“It won’t happen again.”

The bulletproof vest he wore beneath his clothes didn’t protect any more than his chest and heart. The outfit he wore, that of someone completely different from himself, didn’t provide much coverage when it came to the fact that the men who chased you had seen you both multiple times before. Each and every month there were new men, sometimes weekly depending on Hyunwoo’s allusive ways of getting you both out of a situation. For the two of you, this pattern seemed never ending.

As the lights turned on throughout the safehouse, the outside world grew darker. AsHyunwoo sat across from you at the table—you could almost wish time would freeze in place.

"How did you get here?" You had bounced around asking him about his world, his life and secrets, for so long. But now that you had both come this far, saw the way his eyes grew softer at the question and his chest released a deep breath—you could tell: he was finally going to speak of himself.

"Me?" He asked, sounding as if he was questioning even himself.

You never took into account that someone like Hyunwoo, with such a tough exterior and focused mindset, may have never been asked anything so personal as this was.

"I just do as I am told."

"That's a lie, Hyunwoo."

Your hands fell between your knees to warm your cold fingertips, leaning in closer to the man's short distanced frame. His brows could only raise at your sudden catch of his slip, head tilting in confusion.

"How am I lying?"

"You're moving on your own right now. You took me under your wing, are protecting me—all on your own accord."

"I never looked at it much like that."

"Then how do you see me?"

You never dug this deep. Never stepped over the line in all this time, asking Hyunwoo a question he could no longer waver an answer to.

"Yeah, you saved me that day. Maybe it was to save your own ass because you were in just as much danger as me."

He could only listen.

"But you're still here."

"I am." His voice, so sincere and careful.

"Although you gave me your word, you could have left me long ago."

Now it was Hyunwoo moving in closer. His form lifted, shirt pulled from his upper half a while ago giving you a sight of his muscles. The mental image had long been shown to you not long after you were paired with him. His habit of walking around in a towel, changing his clothes in front of you—from normal ones to some type of uniform to become a matching person in an upcoming scenario, you had grown used to his body.

The way he appeared to you now, skin tanned and shadowed by the lamps within the home—it seemed almost sensual the way he closed in on you.

Standing over you, right at your side with his head tilted down at you—you could only bite your tongue as he offered you his hand and helped you rise to his level.

Hyunwoo, a man who leapt into action for a stranger, was now staring at that same person with love and lust in his eyes.

"What if I saved you for a selfish reason?" He asked, voice finding your ear at the same time his opposite hand found your waist. The other, his fingers moving between yours to clasp them together and hold you tighter—your head was swimming.

"Months on the run like this. My life has always been this way. Follow instructions. Don't speak unless spoken to. Follow through with your actions no matter the consequences. Never get a blink of real sleep. Eat quickly. No sense of peace or release."

This was the most he had spoken since you met him, and you only wanted him to keep speaking.

"What if I saw you as an opportunity to get out? To run and chase something that is freeing?"

"When's the last time you were touched?" The words left your mouth faster than your brain could register the question in your own head.

And it was just what he wished to hear, the gap between your forms being closed and his lips landing on yours. His mouth was warm, inviting, his tongue dancing along with yours.

He was like a sweet drink—the ones where you drink too many and only realize their power once you're too drunk to stand. His taste intoxicating on its own, your head could only tilt to his height for him to kiss you deeper.

You could only feel the heat radiating off his bare skin as he backed you against the wall. The chill of the house was sent back up your spine as you met his tall form, the small dots of chills showing along your skin only making him groan and kiss you for longer.

His strength, his tight build still strong enough even throughout his tiredness from the injury to lift you again. He pressed you against spaces in the home that seemed restful, giving himself enough time to discard any pieces of clothing he could.

And when your back finally met the large mattress inside the bedroom—your mind was clear. Your fingers played with his hair that had grown longer each week. You found such comfort in him, the same as your mouth did when he kissed you, and even more so for when your eyes found his.

No matter how strong he appeared, fearless and conducted—you were breaking down his walls all while he was slipping into yours. His name being the only word on your tongue, his knuckles turning white holding onto your form to hold you as close as he possibly could. And your sweet release brings you to find small drops of his tears on your skin, his head falling into the nape of your neck.

"I am so sorry." His voice was like shattered glass, the sharp edges of your reality beginning to hurt him ever so slightly. "That this is happening."

"Hyunwoo." You spoke softly, but meant your words. "I'm not scared anymore."

The room's chill found your skin again, nothing but a fire going in the living room's fireplace bringing light into the master bedroom as he lay sprawled on top of you with tears still streaming down his face.

Of all the things he had ever said, of all the soft words spoken to you that night—the first ones that had ever stayed solidified in your mind were the ones he barely said.

"You should be scared of me."

four. | don't turn around.

"Please tell me this time will be different."

"With your life on the line? Not a chance."

His words found your hearing like music notes leaving the strings of a piano being played by an unknown musician. The man had taken bullets for you, had found himself falling in love with you, and here he stood—pretending fate wasn't so hurtful.

You had done everything he told you to do for months. You followed his instructions no matter where you were or what the circumstances could be. Even when you were acting them out, trying to hide your shaking hands—you always followed through.

You could even hear yourself breathing a shaky breath now, hearing the small ding of the elevator seconds before the doors opened to a floor that didn't have your room.

Hyunwoo's arms were tight, not reaching back for you this time. Not as he usually did in such an enclosed and easy to reach space. So few times had you felt his distance, the one leaving your frame cold and in his shadow. With each step you both took, you could feel the eeriness of what was to come.

You paced behind him closely, knew the drill—and heard the door of the stairs open and close before your eyes adjusted to the situation.

Hyunwoo, silent and moving at a slow pace, could not seem any more strange than he did now. No more words, no more instructions, and no more kisses to alleviate any worry for you.

You had become so used to him pulling you into a dark corner, away from anything happening around you—all to just place a kiss on your lips. He knew it kept you going, kept your mind on him and your safety and to help you settle yourself for whatever was to come.

Love had found itself between two people who were meant to have a short meeting. A glimpse of what could be, your time together so shallow to an ocean of life meant to be spent in peace and harmony.

But as each dark corner was passed, his swinging arms slowed by his side until he was only towering over you—you couldn't help but shutter at the sight of him spinning to match the end of his pistol at your head.

Alone. Secluded. And those same stern eyes staring back at you without a single bit of emotion in them.

"H-Hyunwoo?"

Every night his fingers tapped at the keys of the laptop inside his briefcase, and you wondered just what he was doing. Was there a code to break? Someone to speak to for the next move? Had he gained information to help free you both?

"W-Why did you trust me that day?" Was it the bullet being loaded into the chamber, sounded by a click from the weapon that made him stutter—or your watering eyes? "When we met, you trusted me so quickly."

"You had a plan." You didn't stutter again, couldn't find it in yourself to be fearful of him—even now. "You're doing this for a reason. I could tell you knew what you were doing."

The man could only rock on his heels, a pained expression on his face making you blink at the silence. Hyunwoo, the man you had grown to love and make love to, seemed to shift back into that same man you met the first day you slipped into that SUV while believing he was only your driver.

When the realization had hit you that he was the exact figure that had been described to be following you—you almost couldn't catch your breath for long enough to take into account that you were being followed.

"When that chase started off, and you realized that they weren't just shooting at me—" You spoke to him softly, but there was a small pit of concern in your voice. "You only thought of me. Of getting me out of there. Of figuring out what was happening."

"I knew what was happening."

His voice didn't fluctuate. He didn't hesitate, didn't waver his eyes over your body like a scan to capture any physical response from you, and most certainly didn't care for your racing mind full of questions.

"It was—" He had wanted to say it all along. You could see it in the way his shoulders relaxed as he spoke. "—all a set up."

His growing closeness, all the way down to the first night you pressed together in a way that was delightful and loving. It was a ruse to get what he needed.

"Even if I did love you." This was the first time Hyunwoo had ever spoken of you with the word love in his sentence. "This is just my job."

Do what he does best. Follow orders. Be the bodyguard you needed. Gain your trust. Get closer. Take action, and bullets for you. Get even closer. Play with your mind, your heart has to follow. Be the closest you can be.

He needed a DNA sample, a path to keep him from being a suspect, an alibi, and a way to rid himself of you in the end.

And here he was, and there you were.

"Hyunwoo."

"I have all the evidence that I need to make a headline without getting myself involved. You were just a pawn."

"You don't mean that—" His gun only pushed towards you closer.

The path he had taken you through the halls from the elevator put you in direct sight of the CCTV, and made you disappear without a trace.

You were his target all along.

"I am what I am." His teeth were clenched, pearled bones pressed together making his jawline sharper and brows thread together.

Hyunwoo was in a battle with himself. His heart thumped at the same, rapid rhythm as yours—it reminded him he was human. But following through with his orders, the money being the dire need for him to be the one freed—he had no other choice.

"You're not selfish." You whispered, keeping your eyes on his and not the silver pistol closing in on you until it was pressed against your forehead.

"You don't know me." His words were broken, like he was trying to say one thing but something else was spoken instead. "All I wanted was to feel love—feel the humanity you could give me—just for a moment."

Those hot tears were a dull image in your mind. Watching someone so strong become completely fragmented, it was the most painful experience you've ever felt.

"And I did."

"You did what, Hyunwoo?"

You could feel his hand jolt, knew what was coming next. But his words comforted the pain that soon followed. Your body shook, falling to the ground as the ear piercing sound of the gunshot echoed inside the staircase. Once and for all—beyond the belief that one day you would lose him to this life, it was you who left him.

"I really did love you."

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