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captainsimagines · 3 years ago

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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Eight

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 8 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; extreme canon violence (gun violence, hand-to-hand, baton use, knives); strong language; mentions of drug smuggling, drugs, and human smuggling; mentions of blood and blood loss; major/minor character death (not the mains, don’t worry!); angst; gunshot wounds; heavy alcohol consumption

Word Count: 14,600+

A/N: Listen... you know damn well I had to put some American Pie lyrics in this. The reader’s and Jackeline’s relationship is not modeled after Nat and Yelena lol it was literally the biggest coincidence.

MedBay - The New Compound, 2024, 1:52 pm

“He did what?”

Bruce smiles sheepishly as he lugs Steve’s practically lifeless body onto one of those beige medical beds. Dr. Cho is pacing calmly around the room, getting her instruments cleaned and ready. She tries to ignore the way you’re crowding her, inspecting everything she touches and in turn is going to end up touching Steve.

“He took a bullet for someone.”

“And where is that someone?” you bite. You immediately want to apologize to Bruce for your tone but you’re distracted by the tiny groans of pain coming from the pale super soldier beside you. You have to look away to avoid whimpering yourself, but you can’t exactly make yourself deaf. “Don’t tell me he took a bullet for you.”

Bruce rolls his eyes and steps to the side as Dr. Cho begins cutting away Steve’s pants. “Everyone else is on vacation. He has no one here to take a bullet for besides. It was a shitty liquor store robbery and Steve was, of course, being a hero.”

“Where’s he hit?” you ask, heading over to grab a pair of gloves yourself. No one questions it.

“Femoral artery. Seems like he was plugging his own wound until he could get help.”

Dr. Cho is right. There’s a massive gash in his thigh that’s leaking excessively and the skin surrounding the wound is raised like Steve’s own fingers had plunged so deeply it left an imprint. Not only that, but his hand is covered in his blood. So is Bruce’s, you realize, because he had tried to plug the artery as well.

“How is he not dead yet?” Dr. Cho more mutters to herself than to you guys. Steve’s head is lolling to the side and his lips are an awful shade of white. His eyes are fluttering open and closed… open… closed… and he’s still mumbling random phrases. There’s a rough tug at the bottom of your stomach that pulls and pulls and there’s a weird urge to crawl onto the table to keep Steve warm.

“He needs blood,” you say, even though all parties in the room know that as fact.

Bruce, however, winces. “Sam’s not even in the state right now and I don’t think we have enough time to fly him-”

“Is he Sam’s blood type? What’s his blood type? Why can’t Bucky do it? Bucky’s in Brooklyn, he can be here in five minutes if he runs.”

Bruce starts rummaging through the upper level shelves and freezer cabinets. “Can’t mix the serums. We’ve tried.” He finally finds the blood bags, pulling them all out and spreading them across the clean tables. “It’s - shit - do we not have?”

Dr. Cho is now covered in blood, working as fast as she can to close the wound. “What’s his blood type?”

Bruce repeats it out loud and watches as Dr. Cho’s face falls. “I ran out yesterday. The blood drive isn’t until this weekend. I had a patient come in yesterday, I - I ran out yesterday.”

They seem to be having their own conversation with their eyes and are too focused on each other to see you already stripping your long-sleeve shirt and wrapping that horrible blue rubber band around your upper arm. “Me. Take mine.”

Bruce immediately shakes his head, stuttering as he tries to remove the rubber band. “Nu-uh, I don’t know if you know this but you’re human. I need two bags, three tops. I can’t just take it all from you right now!”

“Then get me some cookies and a juice box. I don’t care how much you have to take to make him speak a coherent sentence. Do me.”

Bruce hesitates but he rushes to the cabinets for the needles, vials, tubes, whatever - “No, do it direct.”

Your words startle the two doctors but they don’t question it. They hook you up and poke the needle in the first vein they find, attaching the tube instead of a single vial and direct it to Steve.

“You sure your blood matches?”

You give Bruce a pointed look as if that isn’t something written on your dog tags or on your weekly personal reports.

In the end, you’re told that you gave him the equivalent of two pints of blood. Not that you were awake for the second anyway but you vaguely remember Steve’s voice ringing in your ears. You’re not awake as he regains consciousness or to witness his very confused glare at seeing you in the bed next to him.

He swears he heard small mumblings… ‘If you die because of some highway robbery, Rogers --- I’m never gonna fucking stop bullying your grave --- haunt it’.... ‘Stay --- with me, please’.... ‘---supposed to apologize first’....

He tests the waters, mumbling a name he only says with annoyance nowadays. But now, it’s gently said. Soft, a whisper that sounds like a fractured hymn.

Present Day, 2025, 12:05 pm

There isn’t a set emotion in the world that seems appropriate. What are people supposed to feel when they’re singled out and chosen to suffer a life of pain? Self-hate? Pity for themselves? Anger? Sadness? Remorse? Nothing?

You really don’t know what you’re feeling. In the middle of rubbing vaseline on your newly acquired cuts and scrapes and bandaging yourself up, biting on a belt as Bucky set your shoulder back in place, and lying with Steve discussing everything and nothing all night after your promise - well, what the hell are you supposed to feel? As inevitable as it was considering he had ordered you shot before, the one feeling you know you feel is betrayed. Because even though Ernesto has proven himself evil time and time again, to his own flesh and blood, there was still a small part in your heart that didn’t think any parent truly wanted to inflict pain on their children. And your heart keeps proving itself wrong again and again.

“You just... jumped out of the car?”

Ramirez’s voice snaps you from your inner thoughts. He was let out of custody this morning. He’s currently filling in anyone who asks about the shipment, about Ernesto’s future plans, about the role he thought he had.

“Against my better judgment, but yeah.”

He chuckles and grins like he’s a kid hearing the best story ever told. “That’s what superheroes do. At least, what I’ve seen in the movies. John Wick, Bond, esos tipos.”

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, Omar,” there’s a teasing tone, “but I’m a fucking Avenger.”

That makes him laugh louder and in turn pulls one from you. “Ya se, ya se. I’ve known you since you were born. It’s weird hearing stories about you saving the world and jumping from bombed cars.”

“Mm, wait until you hear about that time I went into space and landed on another planet. Or time traveled. Take your pick.”

He’s stunned into silence and after a few more praises, he lets you return to typing out your report. There are plenty of other agents around for him to busy himself with. The base is tiny and not at all what you expected, but it’s secure enough to fit Torres, Sam, Bucky, and about fifteen other agents as they prepare for tonight. The plan you and Steve outlined was simple: attend the wedding, butter everyone up, send Steve away to help Ernesto retrieve and move the shipment, Scott and Sam will infiltrate, Bucky would be on standby to help you fight, and the rest of the team at base will begin arrests and sweeps. If everything goes according to plan, at least.

It’s easy to speak negatively about these things - there really were only two ways this could go.

You finish your report and go to stand, only realizing a minute later walking through the base that Ramirez is following you. You send him a funny look over your shoulder and he returns with a small smile of his own.

“Tengo preguntas!”

You stop and let him catch up. “Hmm?”

“Okay,” he starts, motioning his hands wordlessly until he could form them. “Are you and the Captain actually... juntos? Or just Avenger partners?”

“That’s personal, Omar,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “But I guess? That’s weird discussing with you.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s okay, I was just curious. So, him being mad was just an act? He doesn’t really hurt and threaten you, no?” He’s treading lightly, but you can already see the cartel mind turning. He would order Steve’s execution if he had to, even if he believed it to be morally wrong in some situations.

“Never. It was just an act for Ernesto.”

“Ah, Dios. Thank goodness.”

“Yeah, keep your men in line. It’s fine.”

He chuckles at that. “And the other Avengers?”

“They’re my family, Omar,” you grin wide, waking slower for the old man to keep up. “They would never hurt me.”

“That’s good, but not what I was asking.”

“Oh?”

“What are they like?”

Handing your report to one of the agents at a handful of monitors, you laugh loudly. “Do you want to meet them officially?”

“Aye, I know my daughters would like that...”

You raise an eyebrow.

“But I would like to meet them, too.”

“That’s what I thought. C’mon.”

The rest of the team are all relaxing and discussing the past days events in the lounge area, which is really just a glorified break room. Bucky’s still in his morning sweats same as Scott, Torres is already suited up, and both Sam and Steve are wearing their Avenger gear (minus Sam’s wings and Steve’s battered shield). Steve is the first one to notice you enter and he instantly gets up from his chair to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Gross,” Bucky mumbles.

“You’ve been trying to get me a girl for over ninety years, Buck. And now that I’ve finally got someone who likes me back, you bully me for it?”

“Who’s bullin’? I said the same thing when Agent Carter smooched you in the weapon’s room and you thought you were alone.”

You pat Steve’s shoulder. “Think about it, Rogers. When Bucky settles down with someone, you have free reign.”

Steve pulls a thin smile and glances back at Bucky. “I’ll make them hate you.”

“Love and hate are the same thing, pal. It worked out for you two.”

“Okay, we’re done. Everyone, Omar wanted to formally introduce himself.”

Ramirez gives a shy wave. Torres returns it. It’s kind of hilarious to witness. Here you all are, Avengers and some standing over six feet with one of the most wanted drug lords in the world, and the all mighty drug lord is shy.

“I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” You notice how when Ramirez speaks to strangers or those he deems good people on his side, his accent is a little thicker. It’s like he wants to speak only in Spanish other than the Spanglish you were all accustomed to. “But it really is an honor to meet you all.”

Scott is the first to stand and shake his hand. “Sorry I pointed my gun at you, man. Habit.”

Ramirez chuckles, “Sorry I broke into your room.”

Steve interjects, “Thank you, though. For telling us what more we’re fighting for.”

Ramirez nods, a solemn look spreading over his face. “The minute I found out, I didn’t know who to tell. I’m lucky you were never truly on his side.”

“And what will you do after all this is over?” Bucky stands. “How do we know we can truly trust you?”

Ramirez sneaks a glance at you and you raise your hands. “Hey, I’ve got the same questions as him.”

Ramirez must know he isn’t getting out of this one because he answers quickly. “Drugs have a market where people choose. I just meet supply and demand protocols. I don’t do the unnecessary violence or blackmail. There is no need to. People will always want drugs.”

There’s a round of agreement throughout the small room. Ramirez continues, “But smuggling humans? There is no choice, nothing moral about it, it’s evil.”

“But people get addicted to drugs. They die from them everyday,” Sam argues.

“I produce and deal what you American’s call weed. Ernesto does the big stuff, as does White. I’m,” he laughs a little. “I’m their weed guy.”

“That is true,” you confirm. You’ve moved and packaged Ramirez’s product before. “Literally just weed.”

Everyone seems deep in thought, like their processing Ramirez’s words and the weight behind them. Ramirez ran with the big boys and was the biggest distributor of marijuana in Mexico and America alike, but he never messed with any other product. Besides producing, selling, and smuggling illegal weed, his only other crimes included conspiring with Ernesto on how to get the product over state lines.

“Okay,” Steve starts. “So how is tonight gonna work? We have to discuss that.”

Ramirez bows his head. “You’ve allowed me safety, you’ve listened to me speak, and you’re saving both my life and my daughter’s. If you must arrest me, then you arrest me.”

“The minute you’re transferred to a prison with less security, Ernesto’s men will get you,” you reason, already shaking your head no.

Ramirez gives a nonchalant shrug, “But you’ll get him and White. That’s all that matters.”

You look over to Steve for some other ideas, but like you he doesn’t have any. No one seems to have any.

Torres matches his shrug and his voice is small as he speaks, almost like his next idea is insane. “We can always put him in the Raft.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide.

“That’s where all the enhanced humans go, no?” Ramirez is stunned. “Do I count?”

“We’ve got no idea,” Steve rubs at his chin, looking at you for confirmation he knows you don’t have. “But it’s an idea.”

The plan is no longer singular. Fury had sent his best field agents for the job, the ones with the best aim, the ones with great strategic planning. Although you and Steve were still in charge, it was no longer just your mission. Your mission was to arrest the big three, big four when including Seda. That was it.

The plan goes like this: half the team will be focused on the venue itself, hidden in the shadows and monitoring the big three as well as your mics, and will aid you in the physical fight and arrests. Some are on the ground while others in the sky. Afterwards, they’ll sweep the estate and collect stolen property or priceless artworks. The other half is split into two, where one of those halves will be spread out for miles to capture anyone that might slip through, like guests who were on the most wanted list or guests that have helped Ernesto in the past. The other part of that half will intercept the shipment (once Steve radios in the location), save the hostages, and shut down the routes.

They instruct Ramirez to call Ernesto and to ask him if there’s a vegetarian menu offered. Ernesto responds with only a muttered groan and in a wild turn of events, asks if Ramirez can call you to make sure you arrive earlier than expected to make sure Jackeline walks down that aisle. He’s completely serious. Not only does Ramirez play along, but Ernesto doesn’t give any indication that he knows about the car bomb. So the team makes a judgement call: this was only Seda’s doing.

Ramirez is then told that the Raft is not an option; both the US and Mexican government want him and the only reason he hasn’t been arrested is because he still has many cards to play. The more he helps, the less time he’ll get.

One thing is known: this is the biggest mission anybody has been on in over two years.

Bucky remembers things in bits and pieces. Sometimes he’ll be minding his own business, enjoying this new world and the countless amenities it offers, and remember exactly where he was on the hottest day of the year in 1936. He remembers the blistering heat, boiling his once pale skin and giving him that beautiful olive he was now known for. He remembers the way his tongue dried almost instantly the moment he stepped outside and how he asked his next door neighbor, Ms. Kranshall, for a cup of water before work. He remembers her massive square glasses and how they nudged the tip of her nose as she nodded sweetly at him. He remembers her high but smoky voice and the way she patted his shoulder as he drank the cup down.

The first time he remembered Natalia was around the same time he remembered Steve. He sees a flash of ember in strands, speed almost matching his, and he sees those panicked green eyes he was once all too familiar with.

She was twelve when he first met her, forced to throw her around like a ragdoll until her ribs were bruised and her spirit broken. He went again and again, and when he wasn’t forced he would teach her how to fight properly and how to shield her most vulnerable areas. Scared as she was, she never showed it in those private moments, and decided to follow his lead in most things. And she learned to be fierce, no matter how hard he hit, and he still remembers the look in her eyes and the pull of her young face as they yanked him away for cryo before he could congratulate her on winning her first fight.

The first time he remembered you was when you leapt onto T’Challa’s back as the chase neared, tackling the young prince become king, and watched with sad eyes as both him and Steve climbed onto the jet for Siberia. He remembers your clumsy punches when you fought him with half his brain and how he kicked you so hard you flew. He also remembers how when you took that kick for Steve, the sound of his wail almost deafened the soldier.

Everytime he remembers something, a memory, no matter how strangled it may arise, the twinge in his chest is good. He’s remembering. He’s James Buchanan Barnes.

He feels that same twinge when a face full of freckles greets him at the entrance, documents raised above her head in a show of selfish glee, and a pep in her step that tells him she remembers him too.

“Sergeant Barnes!” Maribel gives a toothy grin. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Bucky tilts his chin up and rests the tip of tongue between his incisors. “What? Hydra wasn’t enough for you, you gotta infiltrate the Mexican cartel, too?”

She scoffs playfully, “Other way ‘round.”

He snatches the documents from her hand and leads her inside. “I hope you got something here. Steve put a lotta faith in you.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N does. That’s enough for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she snatches the documents back to turn the pages herself. “Follow me. We need to chat in private.”

“Shouldn’t we get-”

“I’d rather you know, and you tell them later. No audience.”

This causes Bucky to tense. He follows her in further and closes the door behind them both.

The left side of her face had less freckles back in 2012, he remembers, and now she’s covered in them.

Bucky remembers things slowly, but he remembers them.

It’s cold outside, air bruising your skin, and there are hundreds of goosebumps now erupting. You joke with yourself that in the end, you’ll most likely have to ask Steve for his jacket and ruin your overall look but hey, you’ll be warm. The wedding doesn’t start until five in the evening and it’s one’oclock right now, and there are white clouds in the sky instead of gray and the songs of some desperate birds searching for their lunch near your ears. It at least drowns out the constant noise of the agents hammering away at each other and preparing for tonight.

It makes your stomach roll: these agents are putting their lives at risk because of you.

You stepped through the discarded papers and tried not to leave your footprint anywhere important. His office was empty, left in a state of purgatory, and his lamp was still on. It’s like he stepped out for a minute.

You picked everything up: pens, computers, books, chairs. Under everything, there was dust.

He really did die.

As much as you wanted to step on his remains and spit on him, you couldn’t. The gash in your heart was still open and bleeding for everyone else and there was no room left for anger. You were indifferent, for lack of a better word. Frustrated?

A paper crumbles outside his office. No one had followed you in - a week after the snap and every single person on earth was still searching for loved ones or running from something - so no, no one else was supposed to be here. Mexico had been hit hard, it’s government shattered, and every cartel was picking up pieces or tearing the world further apart. There was no line anymore.

You twisted around and aimed your gun at the door, immediately lowering it when you saw Natasha raise her hands. She had this embarrassed smile on her face like she knew she had been caught.

“I meant to say hi over your mic. But you turned it off.”

You sighed deeply and dramatically shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I’m here. Guess who’s not.”

Natasha only nods and steps further into the room. She looks over the same things you did. “He’s gone? Good, good riddance.”

“But his death means nothing if trillions of others died also. It’s so fucking typical of him. If he’s going down, he takes everyone else with him.”

“He didn’t take them, Y/N.”

“I want to be happy,” you spit out through clenched teeth. “I want to feel relief. The fucking bastard is finally gone and I can’t even enjoy it properly.”

Natasha takes one more look at the hallway before letting her guard down almost completely. She envelopes you in a hug, squeezing tighter each time your breath hitches. “Hey, listen to me.”

“He’s gone.”

“I know,” Natasha’s voice is low and reminds you of the gentle hum of record static. “He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But everyone-”

“No,” she pulls away and places both her palms over your neck. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

It takes a while before you’re nodding along, repeating her words gently.

“You’re more than the pain he inflicted. You’re more than his name or crimes. You’re worth more than his impact ten times over. He can’t hurt you anymore. I know everyone’s gone, and we’re going to fight like hell to bring them back, but in this little moment, this little thread you can pull - pull it all out - he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would you do without Natasha?

The grass beneath your bare feet calms you down. It’s tendrils are a little ticklish and there are droplets of silver morning water fog melting as they touch your skin. Focusing on the feeling isn’t enough to get you out of your own head and for a wild second, you think the God of Thunder is going to come up behind you and hold your hand. It’s peaceful out here, but what you wouldn’t give to see him again.

The day before Steve and Carol returned the stones, he had been here. He did as he promised: the second the flood of happiness extinguished like a Christmas candle, he found you settled in the mass of pillows with only instrumental music playing. He left for two cups of tea, sat in silence with you as you both drank, and whispered a strangled ‘I’m sorry’ as if you weren’t meant to hear it. Apologizing for someone who did come back, and you for someone who didn’t.

‘You know I don’t regret what we did. We brought everyone back.’

‘Don’t try and justify your sadness. Not at all, not with me.’ His voice was stern and his eyes serious.

‘I’m sorry he didn’t come back.’

His eyes had closed, as if he was expecting that apology, and he looked out the window where the sun was just barely rising, shining on him and him alone. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

There are footsteps, though. Heavy ones, footsteps that announce his upcoming presence on purpose so as to not startle anymore. Bucky was too generous for his own good.

“Had a visitor.”

You remain silent as Bucky sits next to you, looking up from his spot and expecting you to sit as well. “There’s water on the grass.”

“There’s water in the air in this godforsaken state, now sit down.” A push of laughter escapes your lungs but you follow his instructions anyway.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, admiring the way the pine trees bend slightly with the gusts of wind and how the birds have changed their pitch. You expect Bucky to speak first so you occupy that time by playing with the strands of wet grass.

“In 1997, I was taken out of cryo for a mission.”

You wince on accident. This wasn’t how you expected the conversation to start.

Bucky continues, “There was this man south of the border.” He points south to prove his point. “Hydra wanted to take him out because he was interfering with the drug routes they were monitoring.”

“Hydra controlled drug routes?”

“Hydra had their heads in plenty of places. They didn’t control them, but they did monitor them.”

You shake your head in understanding. “And this man?”

Bucky sighs heavily. His eyes are focused on the gentle yellows behind the trees instead of you. “He was told to take out another man traveling through and out one of these drug routes. He made a different call.”

“Who was your visitor?”

“Maribel.”

“Wha-?” You go to stand but Bucky gently pushes your left shoulder back down. “Why are you telling me this and not her?”

“She wanted me to tell you. And I guess, in turn, you tell Steve and the rest of the team.”

“Bucky,” your voice trembles on accident. “Tell me.”

“The man I was ordered to take out was Maribel’s brother.” He chuckles at your frantic shuffling and pushes you down again. He continues, “Hey, it’s okay. She never knew him and she doesn’t hate me for what I was.”

You don’t really believe him. But his face isn’t telling you otherwise. You're stuck between wanting to dig for more information and giving him a giant bear hug. “Did you… succeed?”

“The soldier ever rarely lost.”

Your face contorts. “Bucky…”

“He disobeyed orders, Hydra didn’t like that since it disrupted the drug routes, and so I was sent to help. Hydra didn’t seem to care about the man he let go, though.” Bucky shrugs and starts playing with the grass behind your hand. “The thing was, Maribel’s brother had been doing this a long time. Ernesto was on Hydra’s radar but in a good way. Maribel’s brother was also given very specific orders from one other person - their mother.”

The story pieces are all discarded haphazardly, pieces that are from different boxes and don’t seem to entangle properly.

“She told him to let the man go. Because this man was an American, and killing an American on Mexican soil was something that was impossible to hide from the claws of the law. So, this American made it back on US soil safely and was never heard from again. Until 1998, when he tried to re-enter Mexico under a false name but with one purpose. To see his newborn baby girl.”

The yellow behind the pine trees fades into orange.

“Are you saying-?”

“Maribel’s mother kept everything your mother left her when she tried to cross the border herself. Your real birth certificate, her real birth certificate, you.”

Bucky looks over finally, sad smile and all. “Maribel thinks, and now I think, that Ernesto isn’t your real father.”

There are so many questions formulating at the base of your skull that you don’t really take the time to absorb the news. “What did she bring you? What was in those papers?”

Bucky seems startled that your reaction wasn’t one of shock. “Like I said, Maribel’s mother kept a lotta things.” He pauses momentarily before speaking again. “Blood results was one of them. Still trying to authenticate them. The American was a doctor, after all.”

“A doctor,” you whisper.

“A doctor. He changed his name but he’s alive. Maribel’s checked.”

“Why would she tell me this now? Why now just hours before the wedding? Isn’t that why you guys didn’t tell me about what was really in the shipment?”

Bucky winces and his expression tells you he’s sorry.

You continue, “Why now? Why does it even matter anymore?”

He inspects you quickly, scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. “You’re okay? I thought this would surprise you more.”

The chuckle you release is dry, kind of harsh. “It actually answers a fuckload of questions. Like, number one, why he fucking hates me.”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “You think he knows?”

“If he doesn’t, then he’s a super fucking asshole instead of just a fucking asshole.”

Bucky pauses again and smiles up at the sky. The clouds are white and extra large today, and he suddenly remembers the taste of that mini popcorn he had bought and shared with his little sister Becca… Becks… while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the theater. The salt and butter had stuck to Becca’s fingers and she had wiped them on Bucky’s sweater. He remembers scolding her for that but giving her a napkin in between his giggle fit. He feels the same swell in the meat of his heart listening to you. “We don’t deserve you. You’re like the moon. Always there, shaping yourself into what that person needs, crater after crater beat into you and yet, you move the tides.”

The little snort that leaves your nose hurts a little. “That’s pretty damn poetic for this moment of ‘you’re not the father!’”

Bucky bites his lip and smiles toward the yellow and orange hues. “Like the moon.”

The hotel had replaced the door, no questions asked. The reason Sam decided to bust open the door instead of using the very functional key you had given Torres? No one knows. But the poor receptionist was told that you couldn’t possibly change rooms because this was top secret business and you absolutely wanted to slap Scott upside the head for worrying her. So they fixed the bolts and gave you all new keys.

Didn’t matter much anyway since you weren’t sleeping here tonight. You had already packed and made the beds.

You lay your dress and Steve’s dress attire on the respective beds. The dress sent over was a backless red silk, spaghetti strapped and slit on the left side - you’ve wanted to wear it since it arrived when Scott did.

Steve knocked before entering the room. You almost laughed at the gentlemanly aspect of it. “Thought for sure they’d have kept you for another hour at least.”

“I gotta change sometime. That your dress?” Steve shrugs off his uniform and climbs on top of his freshly made bed.

“That’s my dress. Sort of skimpy for a wedding, no?” You hold it up to show him the front and back.

“Does ‘skimpy’ mean bad?”

“Means slutty.”

He gives you this disappointed look, like he’s judging your vocabulary. “I wouldn’t use that word. So no.”

You silently apologize and move the dress over to the end of your bed. Everyone else was also getting ready for tonight. Agents were posing as local police, many infiltrated the wait staff, suits were being double-checked for any malfunctions. There was so much going on, but all was relaxed in your room. Steve smiles at you from his bed, head resting in his palm as he leans up to stare at you. It’s impossible not to blush under his stare, so you move to climb into his bed. You lay down with your feet to his head, the sides of your hips pressing together; just two upside down puzzle pieces. He chuckles and goes to lay on his back, right arm coming up to lay rested on top of your right thigh.

“All this week I thought I wasn’t ready.” You’ve had no more nightmares. “But I am. I’m ready to end this.”

He runs his fingers delicately along your thigh. “I’m ready to help.” He sighs deeply and cranes his neck to try and meet your gaze. “We’ll make sure they get maximum time.”

“You know that’s not our call.”

“Still.”

You rest for another few minutes, gentle touches calming you. His body is so warm, emitting sweet thoughts like the beginning of spring heat, and it’s impossible not to curl up into it. Steve breaks the comfortable silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You suck in a breath and tell him the truth. “That in the matter of like… five days, you and I are basically lovers now.”

“Lovers?”

“Lovers.”

He laughs out loud and goes to sit up. “I intend on taking you out when we get back home.”

Lifting your head, you rest on your elbows and grin at him. “Oh? And where are you planning on taking me?”

He thinks for a second before pressing his lips together and giving up. “I have to ask Peter or Wanda. I have no idea where you go during the day to eat.”

You laugh, “Seriously? I could’ve sworn you tagged along once or twice.”

“Nope. I always refused.”

You frown slightly, “Riiight.” Not wanting to rehash the reasons why, you try to soften any wrong feelings about what that implies. “I’m sure you’ve been, though. I take Bucky places, too. Ask him.”

“Mmm, I have my pride. Can’t have Bucky thinkin’ he knows more about my girl than I do.”

You smile largely now and hope no lipstick rubbed off on your teeth. “Your girl?”

Steve averts his eyes like he’s just now asking for your name and if you’d like to go dancing. There’s a beautiful scarlet glow painting his pale cheeks. “Like I said, I’m taking you out and asking properly.”

“We’ve already surpassed third base. I remember it vividly.”

His smile falls comically and he turns to grab a throw pillow to smack you with it a couple times. “Crude! Crude as always. Goddamn.”

“I’m sorry! Hey, I’m sorry!”

He stops his attack and pulls you into his chest. He warms your back instantly. “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

“I really, really like french fries,” you hum lightly and tilt your head back to lean into his shoulder.

“That narrows it down, thanks.”

You chuckle due to his sarcastic tone. He rubs his hands up and down your arms. An idea formulates while in the warmth of his body. “You know what I really want to do after we finish with this?”

“What’s that?”

You tell him honestly. “Rent a cabin. Spend a Christmas there, maybe. Catch some fuckin’ fish. Experience the snow properly.”

His eyebrows furrow like he’s dissecting such a claim. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug, “Sounds cool though, right?”

“Got room for one more?” He looks down to meet your gaze and there’s a glint of hope shimmering in the blue of his eyes.

“Nat… Natasha.”

Natasha took in a sharp exhale as she lifted her head from the desk, left cheek numb and pink. Steve shot her a funny grin and continued shaking her shoulder until she fully opened her eyes. She slaps his hand away with a huff of laughter.

“Come here to do your laundry? You know, there’s only so many times I can help prevent shrinking shirts.”

Steve scoffs, “I used to do laundry by hand. I can figure out a few buttons.”

“You would think.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with the palm of hand before speed-walking into the kitchen. “It’s one of those days.” He opens the high cabinets and pulls a few vodka bottles.

Natasha pushes down whatever was starting to eat at her. She calms her deep breaths and rises from her chair. No words needed to be exchanged. She makes her way over to pull two glasses from the same high cabinets.

Steve watches her a little hesitantly, but she has that lopsided smile that pinches through only one cheek and her eyes are the slightest bit swollen from her power nap, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to the other side of the kitchen, that lopsided grin gracing her bare feet. Steve fumbles through a few cleaning supplies and some plastic bags before he finds the bottle.

“I hid it after… after Thor had that meltdown a year ago.”

Now, he was second guessing. It was a small bottle, only half left, but half a bottle of Asgardian liquor was enough to knock the God on his knees. For Steve, a few sips would do the same. But he needed it, he needed it, god help him. It’s been four years, he needs it. “Be my designated driver?”

“How about you spend the night? Y/N wanted to start a new show anyway.”

“I’ll be passed the fuck out during the opening credits.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Steve sighs and pops open the bottle. Natasha puts her hand up to stop him from pouring, “Check under that sink again.”

His eyebrows pinch together but he does as instructed. More cleaning products… more cleaning products. He tilts his head to look at the corners and there it was: a small, pink paper airplane taped mid-flight. Steve hunched his shoulders to grab it and crawled out carefully. “You know, you’re not supposed to tell me where you hide them.”

“Well, I felt bad! I’ve found like fifteen of your blue ones and how many do you have of mine?”

“That’s besides the point-”

“Say it. You’ve found six.”

His cheeks turn hot. “I’m not here all the time.”

“Excuses.”

“I leave mine in good spots. You probably got better eyes or something.”

Natasha laughs, loud and from her chest. “Sure. But hey - I’ll promise you somethin’.”

Steve pours the Asgardian liquor into his glass and straight vodka into Natasha’s. “What do you have in mind?”

“You find more than me by the end of this year, and I’ll take that vacation.”

Steve takes his first sip and tries not to pull a hard face. “You’re on. But what if you win?”

Natasha raises her glass and clinks it with his. He wants to apologize for forgetting to toast but her eyes are playful and forgiving. “You come with me. I’m not the only one who needs it.”

“So, I win regardless?”

She takes a sip and pulls a funny face. “Easiest battle, don’t ya think?”

They’re off their right minds twenty minutes into drinking and the common area is chaos. Pillows are thrown, the TV somehow ends up with dozens of fingerprints, and they’ve broken a couple flower pots. The cushions of the couch know Natasha’s bare feet and Steve’s boots; the walls fail to constrict their loud singing; Rhodey has already snuck past them to get himself a snack undetected.

‘And so I cry sometimes when I’m lyin’ in bed, just to get it all out what’s in my head!’

‘Hit the high note, Rogers!’

‘When you do, I will!... I scream from the top of my lungs-’

‘What’s goin’ on? And I say, ‘hey!’ ‘hey!’ I say ‘hey!’ What’s goin’ on?’

Steve’s still clear-headed enough to twirl Natasha around. She’s flexible enough to climb onto his shoulders.

‘I pray every single day - for a revolution!’

She’s starting to slur her words and Steve wonders if that blond streak in her hair was there last week.

‘The story of my life! I take her home,

I drive all night to keep her warm and time,

Is frozen!

The story of my life, I give her hope,

I spend her love until she’s broke inside!

The story of my life.’

She can longer feel her toes but seeing Steve let go makes her so incredibly happy and breaks her heart. I needed this too, she thinks.

‘So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die!”’

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would Steve do without Natasha?

“You wanna come?”

“Sure. I’ll cut down the trees for wood. Have a real fireplace.” He’s serious, you realize. Like, really truly serious.

Your heart swells with excitement and some other feeling you can’t quite place. But it’s good, like really good. The sigh you release is full of sweet wonder. “A real Christmas tree.”

Steve tightens his grip around your arms. “December’s right around the corner. Trees should be ready and standing tall.”

It’s almost too much to imagine. You have the sudden urge to talk specifics, to plan out this vacation. A beautiful, rustic cabin with only a coffee maker brought from the outside century, knitted quilts, real snow, Steve’s body heat, Christmas lights… inviting Sam, Scott, Wanda, Peter, and Bucky down for Christmas dinner and presents. A whole sleepover filled with ghost stories, candle burning, board games, Christmas movies. You’re up and tucking your knees under yourself to look down at Steve in an instant. “You’d throw on that checkered shirt, grow out your beard even more, and chop down a few trees for me? With me?”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Steve says, eyes crinkling. For a second, he’s worried you’ll realize that he’s quoted your letter. But that same moment, you’re giggling with excitement over your future plans.

“Well, we lasted a week here without killing each other. The holidays always hold a few surprises.”

Steve picks up another pillow.

Business is not conducted during the church service. It feels normal, with half the guests attending the service and watching the happy couple exchange vows, while the other half only arrives for the party.

Jackeline’s dress is modern with a mix of vintage - simple, with long sleeves of lace and fabric that isn’t entirely white but with hints of beige; the dress dips lower in the back than it does in the front, and it’s tight near the waist but loose as it drapes down her long legs. Her hair is left loose and her make-up is heavy, and she illuminates under the sun rays that burst through stained cathedral glass. You don’t even pay mind to Ernesto and Seda seated in the aisle in front of you - not when Jackeline looks the way she does.

As the service ends, Steve tells you to wait until most of the guests exit. The priest eyes him warily, inspecting his young face and build and obvious persona. He says nothing, but he places a gentle hand over the cross on his chest as he follows the guests out. Steve stands, and out of respect dips his fingers into the holy water provided near the heavy wooden doors. He signs the father, the son, and the holy ghost and dips his fingers in again to sign the same on you. With a silent thank you and tender wipe to your forehead, you don’t question it. He’s not Catholic, or at least you don’t think, but you know he does it for what’s to come. No matter your beliefs, he just wants something, someone, to protect you. You turn back to the cathedral and grip the door as you bend down to one knee and tip your head.

Everything is grander, that’s for sure. The decorations are tripled; the violet lights are reflecting like diamonds off every marble and glass surface; the chandelier’s are no longer gold sculptures but diamond; the clay flowers hanging from the ceiling yesterday are now a part of the centerpieces, squeezed in with the largest bouquet of roses and violets; the live bands (because of course there are two) are each still setting up as everyone is getting seated; and there are about fifty round tables circling the large dance floor. There’s still a nice view of the lake and the pine trees ahead, and the tarp was abandoned as there was no rain in the forecast. All in all, and there were a thousand other things you could focus on but didn’t have the energy to, everything was beautifully put together.

Jackeline wasn’t lying when she said half of Mexico was attending. Besides family, there were celebrities in attendance, famous musicians who were simply guests and not performing, family of some of the other biggest drug lords from both countries (minus Europe), and a couple politicians who dipped before the new couple even walked through the doors after seeing Steve. But Steve worked his magic like he had yesterday and had everyone eating out of the palm of hand in pure amazement. He even had a famous actress hanging off his shoulder in under three minutes. Walking away to go congratulate Jackeline, Steve doesn’t miss the quick, sarcastic flick of your middle finger aimed in his direction.

“You’d tell me if you needed my help, right?” Jackeline asks after a while, bottom lip dripping champagne. She wipes it gingerly, careful not to smudge her pink lipstick.

“I would if there was anything wrong,” you respond truthfully. She pauses to swallow her sip and squints. She follows your gaze to Steve, whose right arm is being tugged by a girl who looks about twelve with five multi-colored bows trailing down her french braid, and who is also trying hard not to blush at the very attractive actress he can’t seem to get rid of.

“You’re going to stop him, aren’t you?”

You glance to your left, but it isn’t really a question. Jackeline knows. “Yeah.”

She nods and tilts her chin up, eyes still on Steve. “Make him watch as you burn it down.” You know she’s referring to Ernesto. She continues, “Every last bit of it.”

Smiling down at your feet, you raise your glass at nothing in particular. Just to salute the night air and whoever is watching. A few seconds pass as you both watch the guests enjoy the music and appetizers. Jackeline shuffles in her heels but she doesn’t seem to want to leave your side just yet. “You run, you understand?”

She’s only momentarily startled by your words. “Okay.”

“I never meant to leave you here, Jackie. I just had to find a way out first.”

“You found a loophole,” she chuckles, but the next moment she’s serious. “There is no way out.”

“Might not be,” you admit, downing your glass in one shot. “But I know this. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

You don’t exchange more than a few words with Steve before he’s called by Ernesto’s men and motioned toward those massive dry lava rock doors; doors that don’t muffle sound but are strong enough to withstand a bullet wound. You watch him leave with them, and he shoots you a smile over his shoulder to simply look at you. Your eyes swell only slightly, burning the corners and blurring everything. He’s bright and brilliant, walking head first into Hell and shining like the bolts of Zeus.

Steve has faced giants before, from all backgrounds and all worlds. He has blocked their punches, taken near mortal injuries; stared them in the face with every ounce of anger and determination his cells could produce. There was always this whispered voice in his head that warned him of the last day he would pick up that shield. In 1945, the voice was loud and raging as he drove that nosediving plane into the Arctic. Over the last few years, however, the voice had quieted and let Steve ponder his fate himself. Steve swears the voice, or rather his own conscience, is getting tired.

He listens intently, responding only when spoken to, and prays his mic is picking up every bit of this conversation. Ernesto commanded the room as he screamed orders in both English and Spanish. His men fell in line; some as determined as the old man, some quiet, some bothered. Didn’t matter what the orders were. Steve noticed the few who would glance at one another and speak their distaste with their wandering eyes. And when Ernesto would speak directly to Steve, the same men would pinch their lips into a thin line and glare.

The shipment had arrived mid-conversation and as men were sent out to do their jobs, Ernesto kept Steve behind. I need you to stay with me until the shipment is secure and can be moved - you’re my bodyguard, Ernesto had told him, confident and only slightly bending his back in discomfort from the weight of the day. Steve agrees, and hears Bucky mention how they have eyes on the shipment from the sky.

Steve stays by Ernesto’s side even when Ramirez is called in. He’s prepared for a bloodbath, for two big men to cement their graves in this tiny office, but it doesn’t happen. Or at least, it doesn’t happen yet. Ernesto regards Ramirez as an old friend and finally trusts him enough to tell him what the shipment contained. Steve isn’t surprised, however, when Ernesto takes nasty satisfaction at Ramirez’s horrified expression. Because even though Ramirez had already known, the confirmation adds a multitude of terror. Steve can feel his palms sweating.

As expected, Ernesto tells Ramirez that he plans to use his lands for his gain. The safe thing to do would have been to agree, to nod along, and to live in the knowledge that the shipment most likely wouldn’t head out. But Ramirez, for some reason Steve can’t fathom, stands up and says no.

Steve understands now; the odd shaking of your shoulders even when your face was completely blank and emotions calm. He watches the beads of sweat drip from Ernesto’s forehead onto the tip of his nose; he watches the way his chest heaves as his voice becomes louder; he watches until he can’t take anymore and he enlarges the shield with Scott’s tech and tells Ernesto to move away from the other man. Steve understands now - the man really is scary, even if he wants to admit it or not.

“You really are a phenomenal actor.”

Swaying slowly, you try not to step on Seda’s feet as he guides you across the dance floor. The music is calmer than it was five minutes ago, the guests are enjoying dinner and conversing, and Steve had told you fifteen minutes ago that he would be right back. Ernesto had sent you a malicious wink, but you knew better. Steve’s name was written in blue and Ernesto’s real target had to be you.

“Acting with what? Acting that I enjoy this dance? Acting like I respect you?” Your upper lip twitches into a teasing smile. “Or acting like I don’t know it was you who planted that bomb?”

He matches your smile, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes. His grip around your waist tightens. “Acting like you’re really on our side.”

Lowering your voice just a fraction, you lean in, top of your head level with his chin. “I’m on Ernesto’s side. You almost had me and my Captain blown up.”

His left hand is settled on your shoulder and he uses the opportunity to dig his nails in. All around him, his men are watching. “How did you get away?”

You give a dry laugh. “You think that was my first bomb? It was childsplay.”

Seda scoffs, “You speak of this Avenger business like I don’t know who you are. You’re still that scared little girl who hid in her room when alien’s fell from the sky.”

“I may be. But there’s a difference between you and I. I actually stared them in this face and won.”

“The second time, maybe”

Sticks and stones, but goddamn did those words always hurt. Blame goes a long way but you and your team are used to keeping it close to home. “Why do you want me dead?”

His scowl deepens and the wrinkles by his eyes crinkle over each other as he squints down at you. “The Avengers are not secretly on our side. Tony Stark never was but Ernesto loves to tell people otherwise. Same about your Captain. You’ve been playing us for years.”

“What evidence do you even have? For years, we’ve done nothing but clear the roads for you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

He unwraps his arm from around your waist and sets both hands around your upper arms. He’s pressing down as hard as he can but still loose enough not to draw unwanted attention. He breathes a sharp exhale, and the puff of air hits your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to my men after you got what you deserved. They were good men and just like that, erased.” He smirks. “I know you had something to do with it.”

A guest with bright red hair laughs loudly to your side as she is twirled around by her partner. It’s not as vibrant as you’re used to, but you still imagine that lopsided smile you hadn’t seen in forever. “Does it matter? You know what they did, so why is my hypothetical revenge chastised?”

“Tell me right now that none of your Avenger friends did your dirty work. Tell me your Captain’s hands are clean.”

“I promise you, my Captain is clean.” Seda doesn’t show any signs of believing you. Still, your mouth twitches into a mocking smirk. “But our once mutual friends Tony and Natalia tell another story.”

“Am I supposed to believe that two people who are dead are responsible for this? Ironic,” he grits his teeth.

You repeat, clear and true. “My Captain is clean.”

He fakes a tiny gag but you know he means his disgust. “You turned over so quickly for him. For the heroes who destroyed the world. Pathetic.”

“You really need to stop underestimating me,” you practically order, voice full of warning and annoyance.

Seda continues, “Following orders from a fascist. Following orders from a country that only does harm.”

He turns you around as the dance instructs, a half-hearted waltz that didn’t have a beginning, middle, or end. You take that second to scan your surroundings and weigh your options. “I agree about the country part. But I don’t follow orders from the country, I follow them from my Captain.”

You’re facing him again and in those hellish eyes you see truth. “No, he’s a symbol of everything we hate. Of everything we need to destroy.”

“Touch Steve and I’ll blind you.”

His feet stop mid-step, as do yours. His eyes widen only a little, but it’s all the ammunition he needs. “I knew it.”

It’s barely a whisper, a tickle from a single strand of hair, but you catch it. No longer keeping it a secret, or rather a secret you didn’t care that you let slip, Seda now knows it was all a lie. All this time you had never referred to Steve as anything other than your Captain.

You feel the blunt head of a .22 press against your abdomen as Seda laughs, “You never could get a mission right.”

Twisting his arm and knocking the gun from his loose grip with your wrist was easy. So was catching the gun mid-air and elbowing him in the ribs. Seda falls to the floor in a state of shock, instinctively gripping his chest. You aim the gun at him and like you’ve seen in the movies, place the tip of your heel just below where his belly button would be. He releases a sharp breath and his eyes are challenging, practically begging you to dig deeper and get on with it.

You can hear the screaming and frantic murmuring from the guests surrounding you and the leveling of guns from Seda’s men. But you’re focused on the man trying so hard not to quiver beneath you, his nasty grin spreading wider.

“You’re alone,” he bites. “Your Steve is helping Ernesto right now, no? You’re alone.”

Your grin forms slowly, and you’re counting down the seconds you have until his men start firing, but you lean your upper body down slightly to make sure he hears you. “That’s never been a problem before. Don’t you remember?” You click back the safety as discreetly as possible. “I was trained by the Black Widow herself.”

You quickly raise the gun to shoot the closest of Seda’s men in between his collarbones, effectively starting the bloodshed. You jump out the way in a flash, rolling across the floor and behind a table. Tipping the table over is easy and it seems like a smart idea at first, until you realize the tables are all glass. The tablecloth had covered that detail, which sucks like hell, because now the bullets are shattering through and you’re forced to kick yourself away and run behind the pillars instead. The heels are kicked off at the same time you’re fishing underneath your dress.

A stray bullet hits the pillar’s side making you squeal. It makes you work faster, though.

Once you find the secure nano-tech ‘button’ (as Scott liked to call it), you strip as quickly as you can and slap the button on your bare shoulder. The nano-tech spirals and threads into itself as intricately as frost spreads on a window, shielding you in both metal and kevlar.

When a storm of bullets hits the pillar and cracks the marble, you’re forced to crouch and hope Seda’s .22 and the myriad of weapons you’re now equipped with are enough. Before your thoughts can creep into a ‘last man standing’ mode, a roar of wind sweeps across the estate and between the cracked pillars, causing your loose hair to slap your face and blind you for only a second. Quickly putting your hair up and pulling the metal batons from the back of your suit, you’re met with the best sight - one that was a little late, in your opinion.

“Kind of you to show up!”

Sam ignores your quip as he flies into three men at once, feet first with his wings extended with the might of a guardian angel. He immediately shields runaway guests who were caught in the middle. He takes the ones on his left, you take the ones on his right.

You let them swing first. They’re fast and pulling their punches and are clearly aiming for the end result of sticking you to the ground. But you’re quicker and deflect the punches. You manage to deliver a solid punch upward to crack the nose of one. As he reaches up as instinct, his ribs are open season.

He falls out cold easily after your batons do their damage and the next man isn’t nearly as fast as the first. He doesn’t move enough to his right to avoid the harsh kick to his sternum. Each ambitious kick to the chest seems to demolish the man’s protective wall he’s trying desperately to keep intact, but once you give your legs a break and switch back to the batons, he doesn’t stand a chance. There are bullets raining across the venue, but Sam is shielding you and deflecting them elsewhere. It allows you the freedom to rip into whoever you think deserves it.

You’ve got two men on your tail and after knocking their weapons from their hands, it seems like a fairer fight. The first doesn’t step back far enough to avoid your roundhouse kick and he falls hard on his ass, gasping for a lick of air. The second is closer, however, and manages to wrap you in a chokehold. Releasing yourself to fall deadweight for only a second, gravity tricks him and you use the momentum to kick up and fly over his shoulders. It’s hard to do without a wall to propel yourself off of. But your abs and thighs are clenched and you don’t quite think you’ll actually end up on this guy’s shoulders but you do. You don’t dwell on that moment of personal pride, though. Tightening your thighs, you use your upper body weight to lean downward and wring his neck. Once he’s down, you sweep your leg around across the floor to trip the other man who was just barely standing back up. With the .22, you fire point blank.

Detaching yourself from the gore has never been much of a challenge. Eyes rolling back and clouding, limbs dangling limp after having just been full of life, bodies thumping against the floor after eating your bullets - you don’t so much as grit your teeth anymore.

Sam is dealing with his own mess closer to where that poor cake is now destroyed, vanilla filling exposed and now two stories instead of four. The other cakes are no better. Sam pulls the trigger once more at someone charging at him and he averts his eyes. Sam, however, clenches his jaw.

“Where’s Seda?” you shout, firing at men who are jumping out from behind tables but giving away their location before they even surprise you.

“Lost him. I think he’s heading over to Steve!”

You look over the room and pray everyone got out safely. There are no civilians lying in their own puddle of blood, no guests begging for help, but you can never know for sure. “We need more hands. Where the hell are Scott and Bucky?”

A storm of bullets starts crashing into the tables and pillars beside you. Trying to duck doesn’t work and you’re grazed in the left arm. Sam tackles you behind the stage, wings extending further and out bending around you.

“I’ve been shot!”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat because of your dramatic tone. “You’ve been grazed. The nano-tech has already rebuilt itself.”

“I don’t care, I hate being shot. It’s not nice. I’ve been hit.”

“Dramatic.”

“Y/N?” a harsh whisper sounds from under the stage tables. Watching your eyes bulge paints a mournful expression on Jackeline’s face. Julian is right beside her, pistol out but not shooting. You wonder if he knows you’re the invader.

“What in the hell are you still doing in here? I told you to run!”

“I’m sorry,” Jackeline squeals as bullets continue firing. “Everyone crowded. I was scared so I just got down.”

“Sam.”

Sam nods, already reading your mind. You had to find Steve; you couldn’t stay here. But there’s bullets still blazing in your direction and you find yourself hopping on your ass slightly each time a bullet connects to the ground beside you. The nano-tech does great in deflecting the lead but it really isn’t an invitation to get shot more times. The graze on your arm is already starting to burn.

“Sam is going to guide you both out of here, alright? Julian, cover her. Sam will cover you.”

There’s a war going on behind Julian’s eyes. His face does a thousand things at once as he hears your orders and the scream of guns combined, but he nods. He grips Jackeline’s waist and pulls her in close, but before they can begin crawling Jackeline turns back to you.

“Mátalo. Okay? Para nosotras dos.” She’s got this fierce determination in her eyes and her accent is as thick as can be.

“Okay.”

Sam relays his location over his mic and who he has behind his wings, but before he can safely guide the married couple down the stage, a new wave of men enter and open fire. Sam’s wings can only take so much, and even though they’re vibranium, his suit is not. Ducking behind the table and reloading your gun, you then lift your head over to view the scene. It’s a mess and you could surely take them down hand-to-hand if you were close enough, but you’re stranded with your batons and seven bullets and a world of automatic machinery pointed at you.

The storm of bullets pauses and every single person looks up to the sky. You thank the Gods for no rain today because the absence of a tarp allows for the quinjet to settle over the chaos and create a much needed distraction. Sam takes his leave, wings still wrapped around your sister, and you do the same. Running from behind the stage with batons lit up and tazed, you knock out the closest men. They fall in a strangle of electricity, vibrating and convulsing as each shock travels through their veins, ultimately paralyzing them for however long it turns out to be. This gains the attention of almost everyone else but before they can train their weapons back toward you, the back of the quinjet opens. There were a few tables still standing and it seemed the super soldier liked them better than the flat floor.

The glass shatters from the impact of Bucky’s weight, glasses of champagne and plates with unfinished meals folding onto the shards. He’s dressed in his tactical gear and a dark navy blue jacket without a trusty sleeve. Even if the arm was covered and his hair was long rather than the short length it was now, the men would certainly know who just fell from the sky. Almost immediately, the men scatter. Bucky takes them down one by one, shot after shot, and decides to use his knives for the ones who don’t run. It’s tricky, but he manages to lodge his knives in the base of the spines of those who later changed their minds.

He catches your eye after you manage to snap the neck of one of the runners. He tilts his head toward the left and watches you run to give Steve the backup he needs.

The mansion seems longer, wider, just generally bigger as you rush through the rooms and halls to get to Steve. The stuffed exotic animals follow your gaze and you can’t ignore them for long. There are men following you and men leaving Ernesto. You duck behind the standing polar bear and wait until the footsteps sound farther. Checking the amount of bullets in your gun, just in case, you finally flick the safety off and run.

There’s really only one thing of importance floating around the padded confines of your skull - get Steve out. Another thing you two had in common: both sacrificial idiots. But there wasn’t any way that you would give up the chance to save his life, as he would yours. Didn’t matter if the man you were protecting him from was your father or not. It hadn’t really settled, hadn’t truly digested, and you didn’t think it ever would. Because for years, this man was your father. He was the only man with that title. He wasn’t fatherly, far from it, but he had the label and that’s what you were going to focus on. It made no difference.

You push the office door open and start stuttering over your words. You want to ask what happened, why there’s so much blood, whose blood it is, but all that comes is a fractured series of what the hell’s? The last syllables push through with necessary force, hardly intelligible, but exhaled at last.

Ernesto is kneeling with his head hanging low and his hands behind his back, defeated. But it isn’t Steve who’s holding a gun to the back of his head - it’s Seda.

No, Steve is in the corner clutching at his right hip and gritting his teeth, a wild look on his face that tells you he too was blindsided. He’s hurt. He’s gasping and wincing at the slightest of movements and it ignites the flame you’ll use to burn this world to the ground. It’s splitting your fucking ribs apart.

“Don’t move!” Seda yells, gun still locked on Ernesto’s head but eyes on you. “Put the gun down.”

“Seda-”

“Put the fucking gun down!”

Biting your tongue, you flip the gun in your hand so it’s facing downward and move to gently place it on the table. Flicking your eyes to where Steve is, you get your answer as to why he’s been so easily shot. His massive body and shield are draped over Ramirez, who is also disarmed and pissed.

The self-righteous idiot, you think, he’s always gotta save the little guy.

“We’re gonna talk about this like the gods we are, yeah?”

Your face pulls awkwardly, “Seda, what is happening?”

“Don’t act like you’ve been on this asshole’s side the entire time now,” Seda bites, shoving the head of the gun harshly into the base of Ernesto’s neck. “Go on, tell him.”

“The shipment was intercepted,” you tell him. But you’re not just telling Seda, no, it’s the first Steve is hearing the good news and it allows him to feel a bit of relief. “You’ve both lost.”

“What have you done?” Ernesto screams, cheeks vibrating and face red with anger. He pays no mind to the gun and dares to glare at you. “Tell me!”

The top of your lip greets a run of tears and snot and it isn’t until then that you realize your hands are shaking mid-air and your throat is closing. “My mission.”

Blood or not, this man had the power to tie your thoughts into knots. He only had this power at precious moments and sadly, this was turning out to be one of them.

Seda bites out a laugh - it’s wet and bloody and scares you half to Hell. “I’m not the only one here who wants to kill you. But I’m going to beat her to it. She brought you back, I can’t have that.”

“No!” You curse inwardly at your involuntary hiccup. “We’re not here to kill you!”

“Oh?” Seda raises the gun at you. “What’s the endgame? Que mas necesitas?”

“I don’t need anything. The shipment is intercepted. The estate is on lockdown. Your routes are down. You’re cornered. It’s over.” You let your shoulders drag just a little. “For both of you.”

Surprisingly, Seda doesn’t pull the trigger when Ernesto charges toward you. He doesn’t pull it when Ernesto wraps his hands around your throat, either.

It’s instinct for you to hold out your hand to stop Steve from doing what he does best. He’s already halfway up and wincing with each push to help you, to rip Ernesto from your capable body, but Seda clicks the gun in his direction. Steve watches the way your arm extends, all five fingers spread in a hopeless plea of ‘don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare’.

“I have done nothing but help you! I put food on the table and clothes on your worthless back! You spent my money!” Ernesto’s eyes are practically bulging and his thumbs are almost crushing your windpipe, but his placement is off. You can still breathe air, no matter how bruising his grip may be. “This is how you treat me? I should have killed you all those years ago. I should have ripped you limb by limb until your cries bled!”

“Please,” you whimper out, hand still extended toward Steve and the other attempting to push Ernesto by the chest.

“Please? Please? Te voy a matar aquí, ahora, porque siempre te lo mereciste!”

You let out a strangled scream and are about to fight back. To save yourself and to end Steve’s suffering of watching you suffer, of watching his newfound hope dwindle right before him, when a gunshot erupts. Everyone screams, ears ringing, and there’s blood splattered all over your cheeks and neck, spots and leaks that trail down into the collar of your bodysuit. A heavy weight lands on you and knocks you back into the shelves. You hold Ernesto’s now limp body as best you can, knees locking painfully. There’s a massive hole where the top of his head should be and for the first time in years, you have to look away to keep from throwing up.

“Dejalo.”

You open and close your mouth but regret it when the taste of copper lands on your tongue. You follow Seda’s order and drop Ernesto to your feet, the thud sending a shiver up every single one of your vertebrae.

“Por qué hiciste eso?” you ask him, voice small. You choke on another hiccup.

“Don’t lie to me and say you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

You look over at Steve. His eyes are just as wide as yours and the same red specks, now turning brown, are tainting the flush pink skin of his beautiful neck.

“No,” you whisper. Steve hears your lost accent returning and it clutches at his heart.

“It was for the best.” Seda marches over to grab Ramirez by the tie, ripping him up from the ground and pointing the gun to his head. Steve lunges forward and Seda fires another bullet into the same hip.

“No!” Your throat is raw, scratched, and Steve hits the floor in another heap of muffled groans. Seda returns the aim on Ramirez.

“Imagine my surprise when I saw this one confronting Ernesto with your Captain. Imagine my fucking surprise when I tried to find all our passports, all our files, and nothing was here! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucking idiot White being taken away by one of your agents!”

“Seda, please.” You were never much of a negotiator. It was always go in and let the others do the talking. Steve was the talker, he was the negotiator, but he was out of his element. He was always the enemy to Seda. He could never convince him otherwise.

“You’ve given me new purpose,” Seda grins and Ramirez is rather calm in his arms, like he accepts this. “Look at the crime scene. I’m using the gun Ramirez got from your team. My men are still loyal.”

He pauses and smiles with all teeth, blood in between most of them. “You shot Ernesto. You shot your Captain. You shot Omar.”

The frightened look on your face seems to fuel him even more. He continues, “We’ll never stop hunting you.”

“Try it,” Steve manages, standing up again and vaguely registering the flash of light to his right. His shield is no longer there. “You’ll have to kill me to win. You’ll have to kill all of us to win. Me, Y/N, Omar, Sam.” He breathes in deep but smiles. “The Winter Soldier.”

You swear Seda’s face pales but his grip around Ramirez’s waist only tightens. “Easy.”

“It won’t be,” you finally say, voice no longer wavering. There’s no plausible way Seda could win. But one thing is fact: whether they’re Seda’s or Ernesto’s men, they’ll never stop hunting you now. “You lost, Seda.”

All stills but there are shouts and the ring of gunshots still echoing near the lake.

“No,” Seda looks to you and to Ernesto’s body. “I didn’t.”

He aims the gun at you and fires.

Steve’s wail is grease to the fire in your soul and you accept whatever pain might hit. There’s space and then there isn’t. There’s emptiness and then there’s a space being filled by that horrid but lifesaving shield. There’s no one and then there’s Scott, blown up to his regular size with shield in hand and in front of you. The bullet bounces off the shield easily and hits the wall. You’re pushed into motion and in about two seconds, you’ve grabbed your gun again and do not hesitate to fire. The bullet hits Seda in his exposed chest and Ramirez fumbles to get the gun from him. Seda hits the floor and no one else follows.

The shot hits its target perfectly. Seda doesn’t so much as stutter.

“God,” Scott grumbles, eyes trying to focus on anything other than the pools of blood. “Was I late?”

You don’t pay any mind to Scott and rush over to Steve, where he’s barely holding himself up with his hip tilted on the edge of the desk. “Steve? Steve. Did he hit anything important?”

“Besides the fuckin’ meat of my stomach?”

There isn’t a way to see beneath the kevlar, but your fingers have a mind of their own as they try to dig in. “You know what I mean.”

Steve huffs a laugh and gently slaps your fingers away. “No, but motherfuck me Christ, I get shot way too much and it hurts no less.”

“Was the shield not enough? You had to sacrifice your one-hundred year old hips? Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I was caught off guard. What about you? I heard over the mics that you were shot and-”

“Are you two done?” Scott interrupts, clearing his throat awkwardly but half a mind still paying attention to his own mic.

It’s like you’re snapped back to reality. There’s not only Steve but others, alive and dead, and the smell of copper is all too familiar. “Sorry, I’m still in shock. I don’t really know how to proceed from here.”

“Y/N-” Scott tries, but you resume.

“We were supposed to arrest them. Just arrest them.”

“Okay, I think we should get you outta here,” Steve acts like he’s the one guiding you, but his weight is falling. You faintly register a phone ringing in the room but Steve, ever so persistent, is still acting like he is holding you up. He lunges forward with a sharp wince, and your hand immediately goes to his hip.

“Captain.”

Ramirez lowers his phone, call ended, and he wears an expression Steve recognizes immediately. It’s an expression that looks all too similar to Dugan’s when he relayed the news of enemy forces breaching their base. “...How many?”

“They’ve already sent the news to their men in Mexico.”

“Have they shut down the border?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“They don’t know two of their men are dead, so we can-“

Scott shakes his head, shield still in hand with specks of blood drying on the blue stripe. “They know White was arrested. That’s all they need. They’ll assume the rest, the worst.”

You sigh, “Seda was right.”

Scott literally pouts and he looks like he wants to wrap you in his arms. “No, don’t send yourself there.”

Steve, however, agrees with you. “If they know about White, then they know about Omar. Seda had time to tell his men.”

“Then we make sure he’s arrested and taken to a secure facility. We can keep an eye-” Scott starts, but you shut him down quickly.

“He’s wanted by the US government, not the Avengers. We can only transport him. We can’t guarantee his safety.”

Ramirez gives a small smile. “Mija, voy estar bien. No te preocupes.”

“I don’t know.”

Scott looks between the three of you. He places the shield against the wall near the door. He raises his eyebrows at Steve and looks to his wounds, but Steve waves him off. Reluctantly, Scott nods. “I’m gonna go check on Sam.”

There’s a pool of blood near your boots. You don’t want to know if it’s from the dead or from Steve.

“Doll, what are you thinking?”

He can’t hurt you anymore. “That I need you to go, too.”

Steve forgets about the pain in his hip and focuses solely on you. “What?”

“Go. If there’s one more thing you can do for me and my reckless family, go check on Sam.”

“You know I can’t leave you here alone with him.”

Your voice is steady and calm and it’s scaring Steve. It’s scaring him. “I promised myself that you wouldn’t be hurt by this mission. I stand by it.”

“I promise, Captain, I have no resentment. Whatever she does, I will follow,” Ramirez speaks, and Steve doesn’t even pay him a glance.

“I can’t just go.”

“Steve,” you interlock your fingers behind his neck. “Please. Listen to me.” He looks so confused, a million questions flying through his mind and almost escaping those sweet pink lips. Fierce, you whisper for only him. “He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He relishes the feeling of your soft hands behind his neck. They’re bloody, but yours. His neck is bloody, but you don’t seem to care. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” you confirm.

He pulls from your hold and turns to leave. He picks up the shield. Before he leaves, he grips the doorway and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pinched and jaw tense. “Two minutes, I swear to Almighty Christ, Y/N. I’m coming back for you.”

You smirk, the dim light from the office lamps creating nothing short of a sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t expect anything less, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates for a moment and then he walks away. Once his footsteps are no longer heard, you turn back to Ramirez. There’s a voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea and that you were an idiot to have your back turned on him for so long, but Ramirez is simply leaning on one of the chairs and grimacing at the bloody scene before him.

“Remember when Ernesto bought you that car when you were thirteen? And then another when your brother crashed it?”

Your nose pinches, “I don’t feel like reminiscing when he’s lying right there.”

“Do you remember what you told me when he bought you that second car? The sports one?”

You sigh. Ramirez was clearly going to continue speaking. “‘No lo quiero. Soy una niña. Get rid of it.’”

“And I did.”

“You did.”

He smiles, and for the first time you notice all the gray hair dusting his head, the most by his temples. There's a limp in his step too but you can’t remember if he had before or after the wedding. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“What?” you blink, unsure if you heard him right.

“I’m already a traitor. If I spin this, you can continue the mission. You can arrest even more of his men. They’ll come after me instead of you.”

It’s what he’s been trained to do. It’s what he’s done since he transported his first shipment. It’s what he’s done time and time again for Ernesto, for Seda, for some of his own careless men. He’s numb to it, just as you were a few days ago, but now you can’t stop thinking about the aftermath. Where would he put their bodies? Would they be buried here or back in Mexico? Would people really care if Ernesto was dead? They didn’t seem to care when he was snapped out of existence. But Ramirez has this sag in his shoulders that tells you he’s already calculating the best way to wrap the bodies and how deep he plans on sending them… or burning them. Burning them was always easier.

“They’ll come after your family. Your daughters.”

He shakes his head, “I’ve ensured their safety. They’re safe.”

Against your better judgement, you tap your mic discreetly and turn it off. “I can’t let you take one for the team.”

He chuckles, “I’m a part of your team? I’m an Avenger?”

You can’t help but laugh with him. It’s not a light moment, but it’s a moment nonetheless. “Sure, Omar. But we don’t trade lives.”

“I had this coming.”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t.” Straining your ears and shutting your eyes, you mumble a quick prayer in hope that this plan of yours worked. You pass Ramirez your own gun and speak low. “Go.”

He’s shocked and he stutters. “Que haces? Que esta pasando?”

“There’s no one on the east side right now. All the guests were moved to the front. It’s clear. But not for long.” Pushing him to the door, you make sure he’s not leaving any bloody footprints behind. He’s clear. “Go.”

“This will kill us both.”

“But it will give us a head start.”

“No puedo hacer eso! No quiero hacer eso.”

“Omar, they’re not going to protect you once you’re charged. I can’t protect you then. So I need you to go.” You reach into your suit and pluck that random Roman coin you had stolen just a few days earlier. It was a token of good luck but you didn’t need it anymore. You avoid looking at the carving for fear that the likeness to Steve will make you change your mind. You place it in Ramirez’s hand and clench his fist shut. “If there’s one thing you can do for my stupid, anti-hero mentality, go.”

“Que hago con esto?”

“No me llamas. But let me find this.”

He looks at you with pity. It’s so much pity and understanding for your situation that you have to look away. “I owe you my life.”

Eyesight now on the wall over his shoulder, you offer him a thin smile. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He stumbles at first, unsure if this is really happening, and finally passes by. “Y/N.”

You figure it’d be pretty rude not to answer. You turn slowly. He continues, face somber and head shaking with so much pity. “The amount of Hell that’s coming...”

It’s funny, really. You shoot him that famous smile you were known for. It tricks him like it’s supposed to. “I’m already going to Hell for the lives I’ve taken and the crimes I’ve committed. But the journey to my fate has been worth it.”

The estate is being swept as quickly as possible. There are agents dressing wounds, reading rights, snapping photos, on the phone, etc. It’s organized chaos and there’s so much happening but it’s never impossible to catch Steve’s side profile in a crowd. His nose is pinched up and he’s dealing with his wounds himself. No one is even looking at him.

Speed walking to him, you hook your arm in his and turn him around. He’s too tall, and your toes strain as you rise on them, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway. He returns the gesture and squeezes you as hard as you’re squeezing him. After a few seconds, he whispers quietly.

“Where’d Ramirez go?”

If he saw your eyes, he would know you were lying. You keep your arms in place. “He got away.”

He tries to push you away but fails. “Y/N.”

“He got away,” you repeat. Slowly, regretfully, you pull back. “We should go.”

There’s a horrible crease in between his eyebrows and he knows he’s caught you in a lie, but he also knows that if there was one thing he knew most about you, it was that you were just as stubborn as he was. Quick with wit, always asking to be punched, and stubborn to the point it made strangers worry. So he doesn’t question it, and turns with you in the direction of the jet. “Maribel has the safehouse set up. Montana.”

“You sure you can make it to the jet? Should I get Bucky to come with us?”

The quinjet is empty except for a few supplies, a medical bag, and Friday. There are only two seats and by the way Steve’s bending over to show his true pain, you’d be flying it. Once you land, you can fish out those bullets.

“No one else.” Steve bites. He can’t risk anyone else - hell, he doesn’t even want to risk you. “I’ll protect you.”

You board the jet and watch as the trees sway in rhythm to the movements of everyone doing their job. It’s dark, and you push the fact that you’re so horribly night blind to the back of your skull, and it’s starting to eat away at you that the mission didn’t really go as planned. No one seems to notice yet that you never brought them the two main players they were hoping for. It only makes you close the quinjet faster. You sit Steve down in one of the seats and kneel before him. “And I you.”

If anyone asked, Steve would lie and say he was tearing up because of the bullets piercing his skin in half. To protect and be protected.

“Let’s go.”

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress

#steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers x reader #reader x avengers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #to topple #a giant #by Moni #captainsimagines #mob fanfic #trigger warnings listed #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #mini-series #part eight #chapter eight #marvel fanfiction #marvel masterlist

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oddduckthatgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes you have to stop. Even August knows that. (I was terrified to write this so if you take the time to read it, thank you!)

Tagging @littlefreya who gave me a little nudge in the write direction. (see what I did there)

Warnings: safe wording, after care, mentions of abuse, mentions of emotional abuse, hints of pain play, anxiety, trauma, dom/sub dynamics, Cg(DD)/Lg (if you squint) If you aren’t comfortable with any of this shit please see yourself away from this fic!

“Aardvark.”

Your voice is muffled by a gag but you know what you said.

His eyes meet yours as he quickly removes the offending object. He cups your face in his hands and studies you with an intense gaze.

You try to pull away; you can’t stop crying. “Aardvark,” a ragged sound leaves your throat.

Before you can even register the movement, he has your body in his grip. He reaches up and quickly releases the knots that were holding your arms above your head.

You try to get away from him. The sharp stabs in your hands only serve to make the tears fall even faster. You have no strength to push back.

He gathers you in his arms, “Easy, baby girl. It’s alright. You’re okay. It’s safe. No more,” his voice soft but firm. You know you’re moving and can feel his body lower.

It’s like a dream and none of this feels real. “Stop Mike, please…,”wheezing out of you as the sobs take over you once again.

He pulls a blanket over you and holds you firmly against his chest, “ssshh, calm down my sweet girl. It’s me, It’s August. Come back to me.” His hand starts to rub small circles over your back. He can feel the heat coming from the raised skin just under his fingers, “You’re shaking so hard. I know you’re scared but I swear you’re safe now. It’s just you and me.”

Your chest continues heaving as you gasp for air. Everything is too much and not enough. You’re hot and cold all over. Your skin is touching his skin but you feel disconnected.

August knows this all too well. He’s discovered telling you exactly what’s happening makes things easier, “Y/n listen to me. I’m going to help you. We’re just going to breathe together okay? Just nod if you understand.”

You give the smallest nod against the wet spot now on his chest.

“Very good. Just do what I do Princess. You’ll be fine.” August has trained his body to follow his own desire. Even though he’s worried, he can regulate himself and take deep, calming breaths. He keeps a hand on your back and pays attention to the feel of your breath against his skin. Every time your body begins to relax, your mind clearly sends the alert back for pain.

He silently curses himself for not looking you over better.

Your eyes keep looking around for the danger but August won’t let you budge, “Where does it hurt? Can Daddy see?”

You stretch your quivering hands toward his. You can’t even form the words to say what’s wrong. You try to tell him that it feels like pins and needles in your hands but it comes out as noise. It’s frustrating.

He takes one of your arms in his large hands and holds it as if it was made of glass. He looks you over and sees the indentations from the ropes. He sees the raw skin on your wrists.He notices your hands are cool to the touch all the way to the fingertips.

He begins to softly work his thumbs into your hands,” I need to push into your skin to help get the circulation back. It will only hurt a little but I promise to be as easy as I can, okay?”

You nod your head and wince at the first bit of pressure. It makes you cry out and your head falls against his shoulder.

“I know baby. It’s okay,” he kisses your palms, “I know it hurts. Just let it out.”

He continues to work on your hands. Normally he would be completely breathless seeing the rope marks on your skin. This isn’t what he had in mind. You fought so hard you actually have broken the skin around your wrists.

The mention of your ex didn’t escape his attention either. Right in this moment, you aren’t in any condition to speak about that but August knows he inadvertently triggered a reaction in you. You may not have even been aware of it at all. Deep down, it makes his chest ache to know he caused you this emotional pain. He will fix this.

Your shallow breaths and cold skin start to worry him. Your hands don’t feel as cold as they were but there is a thin layer of sweat over your skin that isn’t going away. He pulls you tighter into him and reaches for the water he thoughtfully set out beforehand.

“Lover,” he coos while he takes the cap off the bottle, “I need you to drink this water for me.”

“Can’t,” you shake your head weakly.

“Yes you can,” he adjusts the way you are sitting so he can support your body with his leg and your neck with his hand, “just a little bit sweetie. Can you try? For me?”

He cradles your neck in his large hand as he offers the water to you. You swallow down the small amount he offers to you.

“That’s my good girl,” he scratches along your neck with his index finger, “can you try some more?”

“Mmmhmm,” you eagerly take it down. You grab his wrist, “more please?”

“It’s nice of you to use your manners, but you need to drink this slowly. Too much too fast will make you sick to your stomach,” he helps you take another small drink, “doing so good for me Y/n.”

He continues to offer praises and light kisses as he helps you to drink the water. Your eyes feel less heavy and the ringing in your ears has softened by the time you finish the water.

“Feeling a little better now yes,” his fingers tracing over the welts on your back. You jump once he runs over one place near your spine. He stops his hand over the spot, “I need to see your back,okay?”

You nod and try to control your breathing as he leans you forward. You can’t help the shiver when the blanket is pulled away and your body isn’t against his.

August finds a small cut that is clearly the source of pain. You took the cane so well and never asked him to stop. You weren’t even sure you could do that. He swelled with pride at how far you let him take you. He made sure there was nothing more than that.

He shifts you back to leaning against him, “it’s not deep. I’ll take care of it after we get you calmed down.”

“Please,” you weakly claw against his skin.

“Y/n. Tell me what you need,” he tilts his head toward your face, “even if you can only whisper it. Tell me.”

Your mouth makes a few attempts before you can quietly answer, “hold me.”

“Thank you,” he kisses you softly before taking you in his arms. He slowly sways his torso. He knows rocking is something you do to self soothe. He watches your eyes droop closed and feels some of the tension begin to move out from your shoulders. Your breathing is starting to even out and even slow. He smirks at how adorable you are when you’re completely wrung out.

“That’s my girl,” he strokes your hair and it earns a moan of approval from you, “but I can’t let you sleep just yet. Let’s get you all cleaned up all right?”

“Okay daddy,” a yawn creeps through. You try to sit up but your body doesn’t cooperate.

He chuckles, “let me take care of you sweetheart,” he doesn’t wait for your approval. He slides out from underneath you, keeping a hand around your waist to help keep you upright. He stands beside the bed and slides you to him. He lifts you with little effort and carries you into the bathroom.

“Okay baby. Can you reach out and grab a towel? My hands are a little full,” he wants to test your movements without you thinking about it. He also knows in this state you’d do anything he asks.

You reach out and take one of the special towels August keeps for you. They’re soft and they always smell so clean. He walks you to the toilet and closes the lid with his foot. You jump with the loud sound and turn your head into his shoulder.

“Sorry little one. I tried to be quiet,” another soft kiss to apologize. He takes the towel from your shaky hands and sits it over the lid, “can you sit without falling over while I fill the tub for you?”

You nod and pout at the thought of being away from him.

August softly places your feet on the ground while keeping your upper body pressed to him. He’s careful of the angry stripes on your back, “sit down now. Nice and slow.”

He guides your body down to sit. You become acutely aware of more pain and wince.

“I’m sure that ass of yours is sore,” he comments softly, “you needed correcting.”

“Yes sir,” you mutter as you stiffen your spine and pull yourself upright. It takes everything you have to tilt your head up to look at August.

He brushes his thumb over your cheek and then your lips. He kneels in front of you and rubs his hands over your thighs. Leaving one of his large palms on you, he reaches over to start the water for your bath. He carefully watches your face out of his peripheral vision. Your brow creases and he can see the tears forming. He pushes the plunger down in the tub and turns his full attention to you.

He caresses your thighs, tracing a long scar just over your left knee. He feels you jump but you don’t pull away, “Y/n. I know you don’t want to but you used your safe word. We need to talk about it.”

You lock your eyes on his, “are you mad at me,” your lip quivers.

He blinks back the shock from your question. He stands and holds his hand out for you. You place your palm in his and he helps you to get to the edge of the tub. He takes your hand and dips it in the water so you can test it. You nod to tell him it’s okay and he slides your legs over the edge and helps you into the water.

He turns off the nobs and then reaches to push the hair from your face, “Sweet girl, I could never be angry or mad at you for finding your limit and knowing that you can’t go anymore.”

“Then you’re disappointed.”

He shakes his head, “Not even close. You shouldn’t feel like you’ve let me down because you used your safe word. I’m proud of you for trusting me to stop when you said enough. Especially after what you’ve been through.”

Mike. Even that bastard’s name makes August’s skin crawl. That poor excuse for a man abused your trust. He broke your self esteem and made you hyper aware. You were young and didn’t know how to check him out. You couldn’t even have known then. This narcissistic sadist disguised himself as a dominant to take advantage of anyone who he could. The scars that were all over your body was evidence of that.

August began to wash your hair. He wanted to get every trace of him out of this space, “Look I know you don’t want to talk about this but we have to. I need to know what head space I took you to so that I don’t ever do it again.”

The feeling of his nails against your scalp was magical. You secretly wished he would do this every night. Tender isn’t the word that comes to mind when you mention August Walker.

Protective. Attentive. Possessive. Domineering. Alpha. Those are the first ones you think of. But this version of him, makes you weak. It’s something only you get to see.

You sigh, “I said his name didn’t I?’

“Mmmhmm,” he tilts your head back so he can rinse it.

Your eyes turn towards him, “you didn’t do it on purpose.”

He says nothing. He knows the power of silence. He gently pushes your head back to a normal position. He lifts your arm from the water and begins to wash your skin, taking care to look over the damage on your wrist.

You close your eyes to try to fight back the tears, “whenever M...I was with him, he would absolutely lose his shit if I so much as smiled at some guy. Not the same way you do; you’re just trying to watch out for me and protect me.”

He smiled at your understanding.

“If he ever had a passing thought that I may have spoken to another guy, he would really lay into me,” you sniffled back the sadness and pushed on, “he would call me a whore, slut, dumb cunt, whatever he could think of. Not his. But those words. He would do whatever he wanted to and call me all those things. Then he would just leave me alone. ”

August’s hands stilled on your back and he moved himself so he could meet your gaze. There was a softness in his eyes like you’d never seen before.

“I know you were just talking. You know I wasn’t flirting with anyone at the party. But when you said I was acting like a cheap whore, not yours…..something broke inside me,” tears rolling down your cheeks, “every strike with the cane was like it was against open skin. All I could hear was his voice saying those words again and I…..”

August crawled into the tub with you, got on his knees and wrapped you in his arms. You sobbed against him all over again, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you in a way you wouldn’t like. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “you didn’t know.”

“I do now. That’s what matters,” he squeezes you tightly. He lifts your face to his and wipes the tears away, “do you feel cleaner now?”

As it turned out, you actually did. This mystery of a man managed to help you wash away a memory you didn’t even know was lurking. This man who could easily cast you aside when things get murky. August, who was honest about not wanting a “relationship,” is right here with you when it’s hard, “I do feel a little better.”

“Good,” he gets himself out of the water and towels off. A cocky smirk drags across his face when he catches you drinking in his naked body with your eyes. The lust burning behind your eyes is something he craves, “see something you like?”

“Lots of things,” the blush is all the way to your ears, “even that face furniture. It’s a fun place to sit.”

“Easy now little girl. You need rest before I would even consider touching you,” he helps you stand in the tub, “maybe tomorrow morning.”

You feel his eyes on every movement. His hands are right beside your legs as you step out, a safe place in case you fall. Warmth spreads all over your body as he dries you. Seeing him on his knees before you, in such a submissive pose, you can’t help yourself. You drag your fingers through his wild, curly hair. He practically purrs and looks up at you.

“Thank you,” he folds the damp towel and drapes it over the tiled edge of the tub. His hand covers yours in his hair. Reluctantly he pulls you away from his scalp and tilts his head toward the towel, “sit.”

He watches as you lower yourself. He grabs another towel for your hair and gets the first aid kit he keeps in the linen closet. He also grabs the wet brush from a drawer in the vanity. You watch with complete contentment knowing he’ll take care of everything. You let a heavy sigh out which causes him to turn toward the sound.

He looks as you sigh and sees you tracing lazy patterns on the bath mat under your feet. There is a swell and a warmth in him that even Walker himself didn’t think was possible. He makes his way back to you and notices you’re softly humming to yourself. He thought it was cute. Only you could make him ever think anything is cute.

After toweling your hair as dry as he could, he brushes it out so it won’t be a tangled mess. Your whole body vibrates with happiness. This is the piece of this you love the most; someone taking care of your every need and being able to shut off your brain. All those thoughts that were screaming in your mind from before have fallen silent. All you can hear is the beautiful melody that is August and how he loves you. He doesn’t say it but the way he tends to you and ensures your happiness is enough for you to know.

August begins to rub lotion into your skin, concentrating on the welts and rough places. He also cleans and bandages any cuts into your skin. He kisses each place he bandages, which makes you giggle.

“I love you,” you can’t even stop yourself from saying it, “I love you August Walker and I don’t care if you won’t say it.”

He gives you a hard stare, “it’s time for bed.”

It’s his go to mode whenever you get too emotional. He takes control and becomes neutral. You slowly stand and shrug your shoulders as he puts a hand on the small of your back. You take the cue to walk to the bedroom. You slide into the bed and let him spread the blanket over you.

He settles into bed and pulls you into his chest. His fingers run up and down your spine and your eyes start to feel heavy. He softly kisses your forehead and begins to watch as you fall asleep in his arms. Never, in all the things he ever wanted for himself, was something like this on the list. He’s stripped this beautiful creature raw, took her apart and put her carefully back together. Taking the time to fix what’s broken so all her edges are polished smooth again.

Watching her sleep in his arms, he’s finally able to rest. He takes a deep breath and squeezes her to him. He breathes in her scent and opens himself to what he couldn’t think possible.

“I love you. More than anything.”

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker x you #august walker x y/n #soft august #sub reader #aftercare #henry cavill fanfic

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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Loving You is a Losing Game

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/Reader

Word Count: 2,602

Warnings: Gore, loss of limbs/appendages, medical procedures, implied experimentation, big Reader whump, Marcus is depressed, this is 99% angst, I’m sorry in advance, I promise it has a happy ending.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Two weeks before he was going to propose to you, you disappeared from Marcus’s life. With no idea where you went or who took you from him, Marcus devotes himself to finding you, even if it costs him his life. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to keep alive in a cell, wishing you had your hero by your side. What must you lose to reunite with Marcus?

A/N: An anon asked me to write some Reader whump with Marcus after I posted my Marcus whump, and boy oh boy did I deliver! I hope this satisfies you, anon, because I’m oddly proud of it.

Every second that passed was agonizing. Marcus was pacing up and down and up and down, waiting for Miracle Guy to return from his mission. To see if they’d caught sight of you.

You’d been gone from him for six months now. You’d missed his birthday, and Missy’s, and even your own. He’d been planning to ask you on your birthday, the ring heavy in his pocket even now. But you’d been taken, kidnapped by an unnamed threat that hadn’t shown itself again. He had been inconsolable for weeks, but dragged himself to work on the hope that one day there would be news. And today was that day. Or at least, he hoped it was.

“Marcus.”

Marcus looked up. Miracle Guy stood in front of him, worried, holding a piece of paper. A photograph. He surged forward, moved by instinct and instinct alone.

“It’s all we could find,” Miracle Guy said softly, handing over the photo. “They did DNA tests. It’s theirs.”

The photograph wavered dangerously as Marcus took in the contents. Three fingers, bloodied at the ends, lay on the pavement, the blood long since dried up into the ground. They were old.

“Marcus? Are you okay?”

Marcus shook his head. They had you. They’d injured you. They had no fear of hurting you. Would they kill you?

He looked up, vision blurry with tears and anger. “They’ll pay for this.”

Marcus didn’t rest for days. He was fueled only by coffee, anger, determination, and fear. Even Missy, who had mourned your loss as much as he had, was worried for him. He was killing himself to find you.

Finally, he found a lead.

Well, technically someone else found it. A smashed VHS tape found near the fingers. It took Tech-No days to fix it properly, but when he did, no one liked what they heard.

There was no image on the tape. The camera had been angled towards the blank wall, the faded patterns of bricks grey and fuzzy. The sounds though. Oh god the sounds.

It started with suppressed sobs. Marcus clenched his fists, trying not to scream. That was you, sobbing, shuddering breaths so full of fear. Heavy footsteps entered the room, and your breathing picked up, racing quickly to full panic mode.

“No, please,” you begged, voice thin and weak. “Please!” You sounded desperate, and there were rough sounds, the sounds of skin on stone. A sliding noise, like metal on fabric, and then a sound so loud and shocking that everyone in the room jumped.

You screamed, high and bloodcurdling. Frenzy entered your voice as you shrieked and shrieked and shrieked. Marcus was frozen, the complete terror and pain you were conveying with a single noise making him incapable of movement. He vaguely registered someone throwing up behind him, but all he could focus on was your continued screaming.

Finally, the tape stopped, cutting off one of your screams. Tech-No stepped forward, a bit paler than he’d been before he showed the tape. “Given recent evidence, we can safely assume that tape was of them removing three of (Y/N)’s fingers.”

Whoever had thrown up heaved again, the sick splattering sounds tame in comparison to what everyone else had just heard.

Marcus was the first to speak. “We’re finding them. Right now.”

———

You had lost all sense of day and night, and your only indicator of time was when your single meal arrived. A metal tray shoved under a flap in the thick metal door. Your food was typically meager and rotten, but you ate like a man starved. Mostly because in the beginning you had been.

As you crawled towards the tray, the chains binding your thick leather collar to the wall clinking, you tried your best to keep the weight off your left hand. Two weeks ago, the cruel men who’d kidnapped you had cut three of your fingers off and left you with nothing to fix the bleeding stumps. You’d eventually resorted to ripping up a pant leg to bind your hand and staunch the bleeding.

Today’s meal was a few bites of stale bread and a quarter serving of stone cold soup. You kept pace in eating, knowing that scarfing it all down would result in vomiting. And in the first months, it had. Your cell still stank from how much you’d thrown up in there, but it was buried among the other smells. Not that you could even smell it now.

You drank half the water they gave you, and used the other half to wash out your hand. It was the first major injury they’d given you, and you’d tried to take care of you. Despite your tending and the daily washings out, the hand was swollen and red, the site of the injury a sick sort of yellow with spots that were actually turning brown. It was burning hot to the touch and oozed something that reeked, even in the disgusting cell. You’d be lucky if you’d be able to keep the hand. Hell, you’d be lucky to keep the whole arm at this point.

“I’ll be lucky if I don’t die here,” you said bitterly to yourself, ripping another long strip of fabric off your discarded pants with your teeth and slowly wrapping up your hand, biting back tears. The only fingers left were your index and thumb, and they didn’t look good.

When your body succumbed to exhaustion, you curled up on the threadbare mattress and used the single moth bitten blanket to preserve body heat. Sleep was easy and dreamless now, and you often woke at the smallest of sounds. Like the man walking past your cell every so often, maybe every half hour? You wished you had a watch. You wished you had many things. Shivering beneath your blanket, you curled closer into the corner and wished for Marcus.

Marcus was not there when your eyes opened. You woke up to the harsh scrape of the door opening and two men grabbing you to drag you out. You kicked and screamed, but it did nothing. The men were stronger than you, and in your starved state, you were too weak to do much more than flail.

A rough scrap of fabric was tied around your face, killing your vision. A second one followed quickly, sitting uncomfortably between your lips and silencing your voice. Your feet didn’t want to carry you, so the men did it for you, carting around your dead weight as if it were nothing.

Just as suddenly as they’d lifted you, the men put you down, and you whined as harsh lights filled your eyes when the blindfold was removed. You were at the start of a long white hallway, branches of the hall snaking out and around. Had they put you in a maze?

A harsh jolt around your ankle sent you shrieking, kicking your feet to attempt to dislodge the heavy ankle bracelet you wore. It didn’t move, and a sharper stab raced up your leg as you danced around like you were possessed.

Finally, you started to run, racing down pristine white corridors and working yourself dizzy. You unwrapped your hand, hoping the dripping blood and pus would help guide you, like a gory version of Theseus’s yarn. But all it did was confuse you until every hallway was filled with smeared bodily fluids and you had no way to turn.

You had no idea how long you were in the maze. Hours? Days? Time was irrelevant here. Whenever you tried to stop, to rest or to find reprieve from the stabbing pain in your feet, the ankle bracelet would shock you harder and harder until you moved again. The blinding lights never dimmed, and finally, finally, your body gave out.

The anklet shocked you once, twice, three times and then yet again for good measure. All you did was twitch, lying exhausted on the floor, the world underneath you spinning like an out of control carousel. “Marcus,” you croaked, your dying voice a harsh scrape in your throat. You hadn’t had water in hours, was it hours? Spots swam through your vision as two people in white coats came to collect you, putting your limp body on a stretcher and wheeling you away. You were tossed into a cell, this one whiter and lighter than your last one. You had no time to investigate the new room as one person, the woman, poured water down your throat while the other shackled you to the wall again. The woman checked your vitals and wrote down some numbers while the man used white bandages and soft gauze pads to cover the ruin of your left hand. You weren’t coherent enough to tell if he’d put any disinfectant on the wound, but you could guess that he didn’t. No one here was that kind to you.

“Rest,” the woman said, putting a hand on your head in what you assumed was her idea of comfort. “We’ll try it again later.”

You couldn’t even argue as your body shut down, plunging you into the darkness of your dreamless sleep.

When you woke, it was not to the scientists or the bad men. It was to faint gunfire and a large figure bursting into your new cell. You scrambled upright, immediately tossing your hands up to protect your face, knees hugged to your chest to make yourself small and heavy. But no blows came, no rough hands touched your skin. Only soft shuffled footsteps and labored breathing. Braving a peak, you saw a man silhouetted by light, the familiar outline of katanas over the person’s shoulders breaking your heart.

“Marcus,” you said weakly, uncurling. As your eyes adjusted and the door slowly began to close, you were able to take Marcus in fully. He looked a wreck, exhaustion written all over his face and a broken expression twisting his usually kind features. He fell to his knees, and you crawled forward to meet him, throwing yourself into his arms and letting yourself be wracked by sobs for the first time in months. Your malnourished and anemic body shook violently, but you had never felt more steady, cradled in Marcus’s embrace.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Marcus breathed, voice unsure and wavering.

You shook your head. You had no words, no ability to speak right now. Instead, you just pressed yourself tighter to him, tears ruining his shirt. You could barely register Marcus cutting through your collar and discarding it on the floor.

Marcus stood, cradling your broken body to his chest. He carried you out, past other heroes who all fell silent at your current condition. Marcus lay you down on a stretcher once you were outside and rode with you to the hospital, holding your unruined hand the entire time. You focused only on his grip, grounding yourself to it. You would be okay as long as Marcus Moreno was holding your hand.

The next few days were very fuzzy. You were in and out of an operating room, usually asleep and always drugged. After so long in pain, the gentle numbness of not being hurt was worrying. You had been right, half of your left arm had been too badly damaged to salvage. Below your left elbow now lay nothing, no hand to hold and no fingers to squeeze. Marcus held your right hand instead, pressing kisses into your palm and slowly running his thumb over your knuckles while he read.

Aside from the arm, your injuries had been few and far between. A couple scrapes that needed disinfectant, a broken rib that had healed incorrectly and needed surgery, and the rubbed raw skin of your neck that had been healed. You’d slowly begun to gain weight again, no longer skin and bones. Your hair, which had been greasy and matted, had been shorn off and was now regrowing. Your body had finally begun to rework its circadian rhythm, your sleeps lining up with the rise and fall of the sun.

Marcus took a breath beside you, his thumb absently circling over your index knuckle as he read. He’d been touching you in some way ever since you’d been found. Gentle hands touching yours while he watched TV, shoulders pressed together when he told you about Missy, the softest of kisses against your temples when your head hurt. You smiled, turning to Marcus and blinking slowly. He’d been working for weeks to restore your smile, and now you had it back, albeit shaky and nervous.

“What’s that look for?” Marcus asked, turning to you, one corner of his mouth rising slightly in amusement.

Your grin only grew. “You,” you said. “I love you.”

Marcus leaned forward, turning so he was fully facing you. “The day you were taken,” he said softly, taking your right hand in both of his. “I was so scared. It was two weeks before your birthday, remember? And I had been bursting with joy, because we were going to spend the evening together, just you and me.”

“Marcus,” you interrupted quietly. “What are you saying?”

“Hush dear, indulge me,” Marcus insisted, moving one hand to trace his knuckles across the curve of your cheekbone. “That night, on your birthday, I was going to ask you something. Something that would’ve changed our lives forever. I’d spent months planning, making sure the night would be perfect, and then the universe stole you from me.”

You sighed, wishing you could cup Marcus’s face in your hands. Instead, you settled on resting your only hand on his right shoulder. He put his hand against yours, the warmth seeping into your skin. “Now,” he continued. “I wish I could ask you as easily as I had wanted to. This has all brought to light how precious you are to me. How much you make me happy. Darling, my light and my love, I want to be beside you forever, and I want you at my side. We will stumble, that I’m sure of, and there will be days where we will hate the very ground the other walks upon. But I’m willing to risk the fleeting bad for the abundant good.” He reached into his pocket and produced a slender ring made of twisted silver and shining gemstones. “Will you marry me?”

You had no words. Looking at Marcus, who was so sincerely pouring his heart out, you felt some kind of shame that you had no response except shock. Not shock that he was proposing, because you two had briefly talked about marriage. No, you were shocked at his emotion. His heart wrenching tone. The look of worry on his face as you sat there, silent.

It took a minute, but you finally managed to compose yourself long enough for a very strangled sounding “Yes.”

Marcus’s face brightened as you nodded, both of you tearing up. “Here,” he said, sliding the ring onto your ring finger. “It’s beautiful.”

You smiled, pulling Marcus close and hugging him as tight as you possibly could. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marcus breathed, embracing you as firmly as you had him. “I’m so glad I get to say that to you again.”

The pair of you spent the rest of the day pressed against each other, Marcus getting into your bed with you as you drifted in and out of sleep. While he watched some horribly violent fantasy TV show, you dozed against his shoulder, the gentle hug of the ring on your finger a constant reminder that no matter what threats came your way, you would always have Marcus.

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago

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I’m Pregnant - Jumin Han

Welcome to part “two” of the pregnancy series of one shots! Again, this is not gender neutral, lmk if you want me to write something gender neutral for y’all :)

Summary: Jumin hated getting birthday presents. So how will he react to a positive pregnancy test as his present this year?

You woke with a start, wiggling out of Jumin’s grip. Again. Every early morning you had the same turn of events: wake up around 4 am, get sick, drink something to calm your stomach, take a bath, go back to bed. It was getting exhausting.

Jumin was already behind you, holding your hair back in one hand and rubbing your back with the other, as you opened the lid to the toilet. He had been so good to you; you tried not to wake him, but he always seemed to catch you and comfort you when you were feeling your worst.

Once you had finally rid your stomach of everything bothering it, you leaned into Jumin, burying your face into his neck and groaning. “I’m sick of this. Literally I guess.”

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to grab some ginger ale. This was how it went every night. He sat on the couch, keeping you curled up on his lap, and opened the drink for you.

“I know...” he whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m worried about you. Can I finally call for a doctor now?”

You sighed, sipping your drink. You had reassured Jumin the past few days that I was some stomach bug, but it was getting challenging for either of you to believe. Regardless, the getting sick had to stop. You were starting to lose weight at an unhealthy weight. You groaned again, taking comfort in his arms. “Oh,” you mumbled, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

He stole a glance at the clock hanging in the room. 4:13 am. “I suppose it is.”

“Well happy birthday love,” you smiled, forcing yourself to ignore your pain and discomfort to make sure today was a good day for him. “Do you have to go into work this morning?”

“Unfortunately I do. I’ll try to get home before 4 though, and then maybe we can call a doctor? I know you don’t want to go to one alone.” He was so considerate. It made you uncomfortable enough when he called doctors or hairstylists or anyone to the penthouse, but it was unbearable when he wasn’t there. It just made you feel uncomfortable; you weren’t used to it.

“Okay,” you sighed. You had really hoped to get over your sickness on your own, but oh well. “You wanna take a bath or get some more sleep?”

“Whatever you want,” he responded, a reassuring smile on his face. You huffed at him. It was his birthday: he had to decide. He stifled a yawn. Looks like his body decided for him.

“Back to bed it is,” you slid off his lap, carrying the half-drank can of ginger ale with you to bed, Jumin right behind you, an arm resting on your hip as the two of you walked.

You melted into his embrace in bed. When the two of you first started sleeping together he was distant. Sometimes he would put his hand on yours, and that was exciting to you. Now, though, he liked to cuddle close to you, arms wrapped around you waist to pull you close and head nestled between your neck and your shoulder. You fell asleep almost immediately.

When you had woken he was gone. It was sweet of him to let you sleep in, but you wished he had woken you up to say goodbye. You sighed, sending him a text: I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you out. I love you. Can’t wait until you get home.

He didn’t reply. You hadn’t expected one; he was in meetings back-to-back so that he could get home early for you. He had arranged his schedule like this the past few days so he could get home early and take care of you.

You were going to be sick again. Repeating your daily ritual with the toilet (who had become your best friend as of late), you sat there for a while, unmoving. You groaned, reaching onto the sink to get your toothbrush and toothpaste to get the taste out of your mouth, and of course, you were out of toothpaste. You backed yourself up and opened the cabinet to grab toothpaste and oh shit. A box of pads. You hadn’t started yet, had you? How long had it been? That would explain things.

Disregarding the toothpaste, you pulled out your phone and dialed Jaehee immediately. She picked up on the second ring. “Good morning, is everything alright? Would you like me to call a doctor? Mr. Han has told me you haven’t been well...”

“About that...” you trailed off. You ran a hand through your hair. “Do you think maybe during your lunch break you can swing by the convenience store and grab some ginger ale and, uh... maybe a few pregnancy tests?”

“Did I hear you right?” She sounded excited. “Do you think you may be-“

“I’m not sure. But it could explain why I’ve been sick. I’d get them myself but someone might see and then... oh, please don’t tell Jumin about this. I’d hate to disappoint him if I’m not, especially on his birthday. I’ll, uh, I’ll call him and make sure he gives you a break.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

And that’s how, an hour and a half later, you were sitting in the bathroom staring at three positive tests. You had to do three to make positive you were pregnant. And you were. It made so much sense. You felt relieved and happy and... scared? You wanted to tell Jumin.

A half hour before he was due home, you put the test in an old gift box he had gotten you a necklace in. It fit perfectly. You wrapped it in white polka dot wrapping paper, tying a red bow on top. Now all you had to do was wait.

And wait.

He was two hours late. You hoped he wouldn’t be like this when you had a kid, them waiting at the door for their father for hours on end. You wanted him to be someone they relied on. You sighed, closing your eyes to compose your thoughts.

“Honey,” you were shaken awake. “I’m sorry for making you wait.” He whispered. Jumin was still in his work attire, undoing his tie as you spoke. “It was a ridiculously long day, but I’m happy to see you.” His face softened as he took you in. “My Love, have you been crying?” He asked, a gently hand reaching out to wipe tears you hadn’t even realized were on your face.

“I’m okay,” you sniffed, “I just missed you a lot. What time is it?”

He glanced down at his watch. “7 pm. I’m sorry again for making you wait. Oh! And the doctor. We can still have him come if you-“

“I got you a present.” You cut him off, picking up the box that you had accidentally left discarded on the floor when you fell asleep.

He looked sheepish, the smallest flush rising to his cheeks. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything. Your company is more than enough.”

“I think you’ll like it,” you sang, a small smile forming on your face. You really hoped he’d be happy.

He sat on the couch, pulling you out of your uncomfortable sleeping condition back onto his lap for the second time that day. You placed the present in his hands.

“What’s this? More matching necklaces?” He shook it lightly, listening to it clatter. “A watch?”

“Just open it! I’m getting nervous watching you shake it around,” you urged, feeling your stomach turn again. Not right now, baby.

He finally gave in, giving you a smirk as he untied the ribbon. As soon as he opened the box though, he practically dropped it. “This is...” his voice was quiet. You almost couldn’t hear it. “Is it real?” His eyes, glistening, looking up at you in disbelief.

“I took three just to be positive. Jumin, we’re going to have a baby,” you whispered, your voice soft in the moment. Seeing him cry, you couldn’t stop the tears forming in your eyes. He pulled you close, so close, peppering kisses across your face.

“I can’t believe it.” He had smiled like you had never seen before. “I’m going to do better. Make sure I get back from work earlier. Start working from home more. We need to get a house. How far along are you?”

“Jumin,” you giggled. “I just found out today along with you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, resting a hand lightly on your stomach, the other cupping your cheek. “Thank you for being with me, for wanting to raise a child with me. I could not ask for a better present for my birthday, or for the rest of eternity.” He pressed a quick passionate kiss to your lips, wrapping you into a hug and carrying you off to your bedroom.

“Jumin!” You squealed as he carried you.

He chuckled. “Nothing like that.” He plopped you into bed. “You need to get more rest. And eat more. We’ll visit the doctor tomorrow to see if we can help with your morning sickness. I’ll make some strawberry pancakes,” he winked, making his way to the doorway.

“Hey! But it’s your birthday!”

“And whatever the birthday boy wants, is what he gets. I want to have breakfast for dinner in bed with my wife and our child she’s carrying. Are you planning on stopping me?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe, a glimmer in his eye.

“No way.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #Jumin Han #Jumin pregnancy

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itawonka-creates · 4 years ago

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This Jewelry Will End Up Killing Me - CH 2

[Prologue] [Ch 1] [Ch 3]

“You don’t have to fight.”

Looking at the girl, anyone would’ve thought she was standing on an unstable platform. Her hands could barely hang onto the knife in her hand and she struggled to look straight. Marinette’s voice was weak as she pushed out a sad, “I-I can do it.”

“No, you really can’t.” She’d probably die. The toads were extremely large; what Marinette said about them eating whole goats and children suddenly made sense. The ground vibrated with each hop as they hung around the empty field. He looked down at his own sword and started to wonder if it would even cut it. In his world, cutting a toad with his blade would be like cutting butter. Here, he had no clue. “Look, I’m going to test it out. If my sword doesn’t work then we’ll have to buy one from a shop.”

She looked over his sword and asked, “Didn’t it help you get here? Why wouldn’t it work?”

He shrugged and looked at the different toads in the field. Damian was glad they stayed away from the hill they were using as a vantage point. He walked a bit away from Marinette to take a better look at the area before muttering under his breath, “Tikki, is this going to work?”

Tikki popped her head out from under the gold-trimmed black mantle and looked at the toads. She hummed, “I believe so. Your weapons are fairly similar, but the lack of magical ability may not work in your favor here.”

“What’s the plan then?”

“In an emergency, put on the earrings. You may not be the true holder, but you will still have heightened abilities.”

“Is the true holder even around?”

“Yes.”

Damian sighed, “Let me guess. You don’t know who though.” Tikki shook her head while nervously giggling, much to Damian’s dismay. “For a goddess, you’re more useless than my brothers.” Tikki pinched his cheek and he yelped. “HEY!”

“What?” Tikki quickly flew into hiding and Damian regained his composure. Marinette walked over and leaned forward, “Why’d you yell?”

“No reason.”

Marinette frowned and rolled her eyes, “Sure.” She looked him over and asked, “How are the new clothes?”

Damian stretched a bit and thought for a moment. He kept his original boots and utility belt but wore a dark red shirt and black pants. The mantle was the finishing touch, at least in Marinette’s mind. Damian shrugged as he continued scanning the area, “It’s comfortable, but I want actual armor as soon as we make some more money.”

“Why do you call it that?”

“Call it what?”

“Why don’t you ever use the money’s name?”

“It has a name?”

“We just call it Tikki after the great goddess.”

“That’s weird.”

“No, it’s not. What’s weird is the fact that you made your outfit look like the bizarre costume you first came in.”

He finally found one that seemed the smallest out of the few in the area. He decided that would be the first target and pointed it out with his sword, “How about you? How are your clothes treating you?”

She looked down and frowned, “I’d rather buy fabric and make something for myself.” After Damian pointed out that fighting in her dress would be “a preventable hazard” and “dangerously stupid”, he pushed her to buy a less compromising outfit. He noted how she was quick so anything she can run in was preferable. Still, female armor and clothing for adventurers were more revealing than she anticipated. How Alya wore these outfits with the confidence of the Demon King himself, she had no clue. She ended up going to the boy’s section and buying herself some plain pants and a short-sleeved shirt. If it wasn’t for her small, but visible chest and ponytails she’d probably pass off as a boy fairly easily. She hated it. Still, she was surprised he’d do that to make sure she could move around and stay out of trouble.

Damian went as far as to buy her more comfortable shoes, but that was the most of their funds solely used for wardrobe. The outfit was horribly unflattering, but this was temporary. She dropped their things quickly in her home, not giving her poor parents the chance to ask questions, and leaving while Damian was out of sight. She felt like whining, but Damian was right; she’d fight better in this.

“Later. We don’t have that kind of time right now.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Just stay back for right now. I want to see how strong these are first. Once I figure out the best way to take them down, I’ll have you help with the next one.”

The look on her face displayed disbelief, “Really?”

It confused him but he had a feeling she didn’t get to do too much around here. Why? He had no clue, despite the clumsiness she seemed fairly competent. However, Damian wasn’t about to push her in the deep end and have her fight like this. She’d just get herself hurt. “Yeah, but for now just stand back until you’re comfortable.”

“Gotcha.” He stared down the smallest toad and waited for it to turn its back before charging. “Woah.” Marinette realized that his stats did not lie whatsoever. Damian moved in a way she’d only seen by veteran adventurers. She watched as he effortlessly pushed his sword through the toad’s skin and slicing into its side. It tried to swat at him and its scream brought the attention of the other toads, but he stayed focused on the one he just injured.

It was odd for her to be in awe of other adventurers. Her friends always headed the top tier list in her head, but neither came close to the precision Damian displayed. She gulped and thought to herself, “If he just registered as an adventurer today and this was his performance at his base stats, what’ll happen when he levels up?” Seeing him take down the toad and then immediately set his sights on the next nearest one made her tense. She knew he just registered as an assassin class, but he was right. Given the death toll he was racking up, it was perfect for him.

A voice from behind her nearly gave her a heart attack, “Who exactly is this guy?”

Her scream must’ve caught his attention because he immediately made some space between him and his opponent. Damian looked up only to see the same girl he saw on the rooftops with her arms wrapped around Marinette. The girl must’ve caught her from behind and it seemed that she had another man there as back up.

Damian wondered if he was getting robbed. Wouldn’t be entirely impossible, they walked around town with a sack of coins the past few hours. If these two have been spying on them since the market, then they might think they still had money. Damian cursed under his breath as he jumped out of the way from an incoming tongue from the toad he was fighting. Damian looked over to the three and what he saw made his blood boil. The man somehow got her knife, toying with and examining it. The girl had adjusted Marinette in her grip in what seemed like a headlock. Marinette seemed to be struggling while the girl poked at her and, worst of all, looked down her shirt all with a smile on her face. Marinette seemed mortified.

Damian growled and looked up at the toad. It reeled its head back, most likely getting ready to use its tongue again. However, boiling blood and adrenaline was a deadly combination. Without issue, Damian grabbed the incoming tongue and cut it off. The screech from the toad was something out of a nightmare, but it simply irritated him. He slashed at the throat, easily making it fall over. There was no way he could celebrate. Damian ran around the body and charged immediately at the stunned trio.

“Get the hell off of her!” The girl didn’t react at first, still in shock over what she just witnessed, but the boy quickly came in between them. Damian didn’t hesitate to swing at him, but it was blocked by the boy’s shield. By the ring that came from the impact and the look in the guy’s eyes, his strength was unexpected. Damian jumped back, putting some distance between him at the three to plan his next step. From the growing vibrations from the ground, they caught the attention of the rest of the toads. “Move!”

“Steal!”

There was a flash of light and he looked over at the girl. She held one of his batarangs out of his utility belt. “What?!”

The girl still gripped on Marinette’s arm, but their contact was broken by a slimy tongue wrapping around it. The girl instinctively pulled back and managed to get her hand out of the wrap. Marinette was not so lucky. Marinette was yanked up into the air and she reached out to the girl for help. “ALYA!”

“MARINETTE!”

“Alya?!” Damian cursed under his breath and looked at her partner, “Are you Nino?!” He nodded, a confused expression on his face. “Oh my- Get ready to launch me up!”

Alya tried to slice at the toad with her new weapon, but was causing little damage. “Marinette! Hold on!”

Marinette was slowly sinking into the toad’s mouth, “Get me out of here!”

“Nino! Now!” Nino flattened his shield while Damian took a running start towards the creature. As soon as Damian set foot on the shield, Nino launched him up. Damian didn’t hesitate to thrust his sword into the toad and drag it down its side as gravity did the work. The toad fell over and Marinette slid out of its mouth in a pool of saliva and slime.

Alya quickly ran over and grabbed her, “Marinette!”

Marinette stood up and started frantically wiping herself down, “Gross! Gross! Gross!”

Nino sighed in relief, “Good, you’re okay!”

“Not for long.” Damian pulled out his sword and motioned to the last four toads coming towards them. “Give Marinette her knife back.” Nino didn’t hesitate.

Alya tossed over the batarang and pulled out a shortened machete, “Alright, hotshot. Now what?”

“Nino, you have the shield. Keep Marinette out of trouble.”

“Got it!”

Damian looked over at Alya, “You ready to fight?”

“These bastards just tried to eat my best friend, of course I am.” Damian liked the answer.

“Let’s go.”

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

The sight hours later could’ve been a headline; four adventures covered in slime entered the adventurers’ guild with sacks full of toad meat. Alya was trying to comfort Marinette, who still seemed shaken up by the entire ordeal, while Nino tried cracking some jokes. Damian went up to the nearest register and pointed at the bulletin board. “We’re here to collect the reward.”

The poor woman, clearly disgusted by the four, took their meat. “Thank you.”

The reward was hefty, but they all agreed that the first thing they needed to do was get their clothes cleaned and take a bath at the nearest bathhouse. “Marinette, where do we get cleaned up?” Marinette didn’t say anything, instead responding with a soft whimper and Alya patted her back.

“Well, it could’ve been worse! You could’ve been eaten!”

“I was eaten!”

“Well, digested then.” Marinette hung her head and Alya sighed. She looked at both Nino and Damian before suddenly smirking, “So, who’s your boyfriend?”

Damian nearly tripped over his own feet, “What?”

Marinette whined before answering her friend, “His name is Damian Wayne.”

“That is not the part to focus on here!”

The shlop noise from Nino putting his arm around Damian’s shoulders made him scowl, “Damian, huh? How’d you meet Marinette?”

“She stared at me.”

Marinette crossed her arms and huffed, “You were dressed so weirdly, what did you expect?”

“What do you mean? He looks fine. Now you on the other hand…”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “He left his clothes back in my room, you should see th-”

“In your room?” Slime flew into the air as Alya flailed her arms, “What do you mean he left clothes in your room?!”

Damian groaned and pinched the bridge on his nose, “Can we talk about this after we get cleaned up?”

Nino grinned and pointed towards a few buildings, “We got two options. The cheaper option is to go to the public bath. Or we could go to the inn there, wash up and have a nice place to sleep. We’d have to get our clothes washed elsewhere either way, but-”

“You want the inn?”

“We would love the inn, thank you so much Damian! After all, we did help you kill those last few frogs.”

Damian groaned, “Fine but they better have spare clothes.”

“That’s one of the more expensive inns, so yes. Most likely.”

“Maybe we can get Marinette looking like a girl again.”

“Alya.”

“Hey! You made a cute boy. I know-”

“Marinette?”

The four turned around and Alya immediately frowned, “Chloe.”

“Excuse you, thief. It’s Lady Bourgeois to you, Miss Césaire.” Alya wiped some of the slime off her face and flicked it towards Chloe. Chloe jumped back in disgust, “Ugh! This is expensive!”

“Nino?” Nino looked up and almost melted on the spot when he saw a familiar blond running towards him. “Nino!”

“Adrien!” Nino pulled himself away from Damian and ran to meet Adrien somewhere in the middle. If Adrien noticed the slime covering his friend, he didn’t show it. Instead, Adrien jumped into Nino’s arms and squeezed tightly. “Dude! When’d you get back? You look good!”

“You stopped sending me letters! I thought you two died! I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

“Yeah, right! If I leave you alone for too long with little miss silver spoon over there then you’d go crazy.” Adrien laughed and wiped away some of the slime from Nino’s face. “Gross, right?”

“Very. What happened?”

Nino turned and pointed at Damian, “Marinette’s boyfriend was fighting toads and needed backup.” Both Chloe and Adrien blinked and took a moment to process the information before asking questions.

“Toads?”

“Boyfriend?”

“Stop saying that!” Damian groaned and turned around, “Let’s just go and get cleaned up.”

Chloe snorted, “I don’t know, the slime seems like an improvement. Don’t you think Marinette? The color really works for you. Actually makes you stand out.”

Marinette frowned and looked to her feet, “Yes, Lady Bour-”

“Marinette, don’t take that.” She looked up to Damian who took out the same sack Chloe had given them earlier, now full of coins, and threw it at her feet. Some of the coins fell out, but what made Chloe irritated was the slime that got on her dress.

“How dare-”

Damian decided to lay it on thick, “Thank you for your generosity, Lady Bourgeois. You’ll find your loan in the bag along with some interest. I figured an indirect method would be preferable given our current state.”

Chloe gagged as she reached down and picked the bag up with a handkerchief, “Yes, thank you.” She quickly handed the money to Adrien and threw the piece of cloth to the ground. “Well, Marinette you look atrocious. For a mediocre designer, this is terrible even for you.”

Before she could get any further, Damian asked Marinette, “Why are you working for her again?” Marinette opened her mouth but Damian immediately shook his head, “Don’t defend her. Just answer honestly.”

Marinette gulped and played with her ponytail, “To help out my family. The bakery if doing well, but the high taxes put us in debt. I thought I’d help out.”

Alya snapped her head over to her friend, “That’s the reason you’re working for her? You told me it was to make connections!”

Marinette flinched, “I knew you’d try to intervene-”

“Of course I’d try to intervene! I’m your best friend! I could’ve paid for everything!”

“I couldn’t do that to your family!”

Alya grabbed her arms and shook her, “Marinette, sweetie, love of my life, both me and my sister are adventurers. My family is fine!”

Marinette pressed her lips together and was about to apologize when Damian interrupted, “She wanted to earn the money herself without relying on people.”

Alya looked between the two a few times before growling at Damian and pulling Marinette close, “Is that why you took her to the fields? She could’ve gotten killed! She’s a designer!”

“Stop treating her like a kid! How do you expect her to do anything by herself when you coddle her like a toddler?” Damian held out his hand, “Marinette, give me your card.”

Marinette nodded, shifting herself in a way to slip out of Alya’s arms before walking towards Damian. She pulled out her card and Damian took it. He looked it over before turning it to the group, “She’s an adventurer. We registered today.”

Chloe snorted but when no one else laughed along with her, she coughed and asked, “Wait, are you serious? Marinette can barely pour water without messing it up.”

Nino ignored the statement as he walked up and hugged Marinette, “Dude! Finally!”

“Nino!”

“Oh come on, Alya. He’s right, you totally baby her. You guys act like she can’t do anything.”

“Yeah, Marinette’s awesome.” The group turned to Adrien and he shrugged, “I’ve seen her interrogate nobles based on their clothes. Anyone that can criticize Sir Damocles at a public even for his suit and tie combo and live to tell the tale with an intact reputation is someone to be feared.”

Alya’s mouth hung open in disbelief while she read the Adventurer’s Card over and over. Damian muttered to himself, “So that explains your behavior earlier.” Damian looked over the group and asked, “Hey, Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“How much is your family’s debt?”

Marinette gulped, “Around twenty two thousa-”

“Considered it paid.”

Marinette blinked, “What?”

“Consider it paid.”

“Wha – How?”

“You acted as bait for the toads.” Marinette flinched and was about to protest but he continued to say, “You earned your share of the reward. Even after paying Chloe back, there’s enough to pay off the debt.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Oh really? How much did you get? A few thousand?”

“Thirty five thousand Tikki.”

Chloe choked and nearly screamed, “TH-TH-TH-THIRTY FIVE THOUSAND FOR A FEW FROGS?!”

“Seven to be exact. Although if Alya and Nino want a share of the reward then I’m sure we can go back tomorrow and kill some more.” He looked to the couple and Nino had to shake Alya’s arm to bring her back to reality.

“Huh?”

“Do you want your share of the reward or can we use it to pay off Marinette’s debt?”

Alya looked at Marinette and sighed, “You know I love my Tikki, but I love you too girl.”

Marinette thought for a moment before throwing herself at Alya and squeezing the life out of her best friend, “Thank you.”

Alya didn’t hesitate to return the hug, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Alya pulled back a bit and wiped a bit of slime from her friend’s cheek, “Oh my god, our little Marinette is an adventurer.”

“You sound like my mother.”

Alya took that as an invitation to play it up, “She’s growing up so fast.”

“Alya.”

“And with a man by her side, no less!”

“Alya!”

Nino sighed, “That doesn’t leave us enough for the inn though.”

Adrien sniffed his slime-covered self and nearly gagged, “Nino, I will pay you to shower at least.”

Chloe crossed her arms, “So I guess this is your resignation, Marinette?”

Marinette looked over to Chloe and nodded, “Yes.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “You’ll be back. I’m great-granddaughter of one of the founders! The goddess has a special bond with our family, you know?”

Damian turned his attention to Chloe and asked, “The goddess?”

“Of course!”

Alya dismissed her claim with an annoyed wave, “She always says that.”

“It’s part of my family’s great history! The great goddess bestowed onto our family a great amount of fortune and prosperity for building the first church in the city. Jealous?”

“No, but I pity whoever has to listen to your family milk that for all it’s worth.”

Adrien was quick on his feet as he grabbed Chloe by the waist and held her back as she tried to lunge at Alya, “Chloe! No! If you get another assault charge, your father will have to force you out of the city!”

“Let me go!” Chloe flailed about for a minute before going limp and sighing, “I’m alright. I’m alright.”

“So if I let go right now, you won’t try to hurt our friends?”

“She’s not my friend.”

Adrien lifted her off her feet and scolded her, “Chloe.”

Chloe squealed, “I won’t!”

“Or arrest them.”

“Adrikins-”

“Promise.”

Chloe groaned and threw her hands up in frustration, “Fine! Fine! Promise.”

Adrien set her down and hesitantly let her go, “Okay.” Her face was flushed once she was set down and looked down to her feet.

Alya snickered, “Oh look, she does have an off button.”

“Alya! Stop already!” Marinette glared at her friend while Alya tried to protest.

“But-“

“No.”

“C’mon-”

“No!”

“Just one-”

“Alya!”

“FINE!” Alya crossed her arms and huffed.

Damian rubbed his temples, “You guys are more exhausting than my brothers.” The group turned to Damian and he realized that he said that out loud. Damian mumbled a quick curse and started to do damage control, “Um – I mean –”

“No, no, you’re absolutely right.” Adrien clapped his hands together and stepped forward, “And how rude are we not to invite our diplomat from Gotham to at the very least rest at our manor. Don’t you think, Chloe?” Chloe grumbled and looked away, not responding one way or the other. Adrien continued, “So on behalf of our great city, we invite you to come back to our manor. You will be given a room to rest, a bath, and dinner.”

Despite Marinette’s pleading looks, Alya asked, “Does that include friends of the guest?”

Adrien shrugged, “Sure.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Chloe stomped her foot and pointed at Alya, “I REFUSE TO HAVE THAT-”

“My name’s Alya.”

“IN MY HOME! SHE’S A THIEF!”

“Just because I started out in the thief class doesn’t mean I’m a thief! I only chose it because the abilities available early on help me during my investigations! I’ve been working on my magic! I want to be a mage!”

“Right, like I’m supposed to believe that! Why don’t I just call-”

“CHLOE!” Everyone flinched at the sudden bark, the shock soon set in when they realized it came from Adrien. Adrien took a deep breath after noticing the looks on the group’s faces. “Sorry! Sorry. Just-”

“They can come.” Adrien turned his attention back to Chloe who shuffled her feet. She had the look of a reprimanded child. Whatever her relationship was with Adrien, he held a great deal of power over her. “They can come.” Chloe visibly gulped and turned to Alya, “Just don’t take anything. Please.”

Any hint of Alya’s previous mischievous demeanor had completely vanished as she nodded. It was more of a reaction than a response. Nino was the first to recover, “Sweet! Living the high life for a night!” Nino grabbed Adrien’s arm and threw up a fist, “Drinks on Adrien!”

“I don’t drink, though.”

“You don’t have to. Me and Alya do. Thanks man!” Adrien laughed nervously, but still seemed on board with it all.

Chloe turned on her heel and started walking, “I’ll call two carriages. You all stink.”

Alya walked over to Nino’s side and grabbed onto his arm. He must’ve noticed her heightened nerves because he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. “C’mon. We’ll be fine. Especially after Adrien shows us the wine.”

“I’m not showing you the wine.”

“He obviously showing is the wine.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and started walking after Chloe. He looked over his shoulder and his eyes immediately went to Marinette. By the surprised look on his face, he must’ve been expecting her right behind him with Alya and Nino. However, he noticed Marinette still hadn’t moved.

Instead, she walked towards Damian. Nino pushed his shoulder and nearly knocked him over, “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

Alya came up from the other side and nudged him, “Oh! Is Adrien jealous?”

“Why? Marinette’s just a friend and they just met today.”

“Really? Today?” Alya looked over her shoulder, “That doesn’t look like a couple whose only known each other for a day.”

The boys looked back and both were surprised. Marinette was awfully close and friendly with the newcomer. His expression was one of annoyance or indifference, but he still allowed her to be close as they walked together. Alya shrugged, “I think they’re cute.”

Adrien hummed, “Yeah. Cute.”

#TJWEUKM #konosuba au #fanfiction #au #damianette #daminette #damimari #damian x marinette #maridami #fantasy #fanifiction #crossover fic #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #maribat #marinette x damian

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hwalovs · 5 years ago

Text

Second Star to The Right

→ Pairing: Yunho, Reader → Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Pirate Au → Word count: 17.3k → Warnings: Fighting, blood, unprotected sex, low-key soft sex, (I’ve never written smut before give me a break), multiple orgasms, I mean- teasing??, yunho with a lot of RINGS, yunho’s an asshole sometimes, hes a softie to you, lots of whispering, ANGST at one point, mostly fluff. → Summary: Yunho once found a map leading to the island of Peter Pan, telling you the story that whoever found the island would be granted with immortality with the person they loved most. He promised you that he’d get you to the island, that you’ll live forever together. → Note: you wont see much of ateez at first in this, mostly Yunho, but i promise they do appear. also im very aware this isn't accurate, it isn't supposed to be. its a fan fiction. I’m also pretty shit at summary’s oops.

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The skies were absolutely beautiful in the morning, with the sun just peaking over the horizon. With the streets deserted and families home asleep, children are not yet ready to get up and torment their siblings or fathers. Near the docks, ships were tied off and empty. Their Captains all in Inns resting before having to put on their sea legs again. Only one or two ships still sail on the open waters, and those people were titled ‘Insane’ for staying up all night.

It was only when the village would slowly wake up, when the children would rub their tired eyes and cry out for their mothers. And to a normal woman, an everyday thing would be putting on their morning dress, heading down to the bakery to collect their morning bread and milk. Then heading home to commit themselves the rest of the morning to making breakfast for their lovely husband and four children. Afterwards, their lovely husband would go to work and they would stay home and take care of the kids, teaching the ladies how to do housework and how to be ladylike, and the boys would go out and run around with their friends. A certain group of boys would go down to the docks and point out the different types of government ships, to the bright ones that were just built, to the ones that just came back from fighting the filthy pirates. On some days, they would see a giant ship on the horizon, black flag blowing through the skies. The dark wood contrasting against any other ship, the sails large and intimidating, a pure white that made the clouds seem like impostors.

This ship was their favorite out of the other pirate ships that they saw, the others were faded more, looked broken and scary, intimidating them when they would slowly come closer and closer, but they never docked. Some would be so close you could be the men on board, pushing other people around and laughing gruffly, their swords reflected off the sun and their skin looked so dirty, these ships didn't even compare to the one that actually docked.

If they were lucky, the ship would dock. Of course, it would be after all of the government ships had left. They would watch the men leave the ship with torn clothes, the small bags at their sides full of gold coins. The men would leave the ship by rank, they came to learn. The last leaving always being the captain and his girl, they didn't know if they were married or if he just kept her around for fun.

Today was one of those days, the seven boys crowded by the dock gates, watching the crew walk off of the ship in uniform. The captain was wearing a large brimmed hat, a feather adorning the top. There were chains hanging around his waist and the black jacket he wore was unbuttoned to show off the crisp white shirt underneath. Following him was his girl, she was in attire close to his. Tight black pants with a crisp white shirt, the sleeves flowed around her arms, stopping tightly at her wrists, the ends hanging limp around her hands. She smiled shyly at the captain, linking her arm with him. The other men that came off before them quickly went into the small village to the nearby jewelry stores to pawn off what they stole, others going to the pub to drink or the market to stock up for their next journey. The captain and his girl always stayed by the docks, waiting patiently for their crew to come back. The girl sometimes came and talked to them, but would be called back over not a moment later by the captain. She always gave the excuse that he was just protective over her.

“Hello boys,” You said quietly as you walked closer to the boys, they all scrambled around each other to get Seonghwa, the oldest of the bunch, to talk to you.

“H-hi, ma’am,” He said with a small smile on his face, you smiled back, bending down so you were at their height. He glanced back to see the captain watching them, leaning back against the storage boxes with his arms crossed. Seonghwa glanced back at the others, watching the smallest out of the bunch, Wooyoung, make his way even further away from you. He was the shiest of the bunch, and did this every time you would come around.

“How’ve you guys been? I’ve missed all of you so much~” you cooed before reaching out and pinching his cheeks, seonghwa smirked shyly before leaning towards you a little.

“I bet I've missed you more,” he said, almost letting a stutter pass, shoving his hands in his pockets. You looked shocked for a moment, noting his sudden confidence. Suddenly smiling and reaching forward, grabbing the sides of his vest and pulling it back into place.

“Aw~ how sweet~ How about you boys come with me this time? We’d have lots of fun together,” You said with a wink, testing the small boy. Seonghwa gulped, his cheeks dusting a deep red. You laughed, standing at your full height and looking back at the rest. Smiling at how small Hongjoong and Wooyoung were, how San and Mingi were looking back at the captain. Watching him slowly walk closer, it was evident that they liked the look of your captain.

“How old are you now, Seonghwa?” you questioned, watching how he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. You knew that his birthday was sometime in the summer, remembering that he told you one spring morning how his father was going to buy him a new practice sword.

“Uh, 14?” he said back, almost as a question. You hummed, nodding your head while looking back at the Captain, who was close to standing next to you now. The brim of his hat covering the honey blonde hair on his head, the chains on his hips tapping together as he walked.

“You hear that, Yun? Our boys growing,” You cooed towards him, the captain looked towards you and sighed, shaking his head while putting his hands in his pockets.

“He’s not our boy, you know that. None of them are, actually,” you pouted and leaned against his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Yet, you decided to stay a little further away from him, so you didn't gross the young boys out. Yeosang was glued to Jongho’s side, as usual, the baby of the group seemingly the most buff. He didn't talk to you much, but Mingi said it was from his mother asking him to rip apples apart. The captain looked towards the village and then back down towards the kids, taking note of the stars from the old fisherman and the pristine looking women by the tackle shops.

“Can we take em with us? Please?” You said again, leaning your head against his shoulder. The other boys looked towards each other, silently fighting. Some of them wanted to go with them, some of them didn’t. Seonghwa looked back and made the decision for them.

“We’ll go once we’re all of age, Jongho’s only 12. So come back once he’s, uh, 16!” he said rushed, stepping back from the two adults. you looked back down towards him and sighed, leaning back down. “Seonghwa, we’re not going to come back for a long time, hell, we might not come back at all,” you said softly, reaching out and softly grabbing his free hand. Seonghwa frowned, not fully understanding what she was saying. Mingi and San glanced at each other, then back up at the captain, who just looked back at them. Smiling softly at Mingi, he smiled back, eyes turning into small crescent moons.

“What?” Seonghwa said, brows furrowing. You pursed your lips, turning to look at the captain.

“Yunho? Help me out here,” you said softly, Yunho looked at her for a moment. He knew that you cared about the 7 kids, and that you only got off the ship so you could come and talk to them. He took his hat off with his free hand, blonde locks falling into his eyes. Bending down onto one knee and smiling softly at the young boy.

“We’re going on a journey, a very important one in fact,” he said, still holding his hat in hand, leaning forward towards seonghwa, he taps the brim on his nose. Seonghwa scrunched his nose and rubbed it.

“What kind of journey? We can help!” Jongho said from the group, you let out a laugh, leaning towards Jongho for a moment to ruffle his short brown hair. Yunho smiled brightly at Jongho, shaking his head with a glint in his eye.

“Have you boys ever heard about Peter Pan? And the story of his island?” He spoke, amusement lacing into his voice.

“No, but we would if you told us,” Yeosang said, Yunho glanced at you with pursed lips, who nodded in a silent agreement to tell the boys. Yunho side eyed the boys, smirking before fully looking at them again.

“Well, it's said that if you manage to find his island with the one you love most, you’re granted immortality and can forever live on the island. I found part of a map that leads to it, and we’re going to go off and find the island, but people also say it's hard to find since the waters around protect it from invaders coming to use the power for evil,” Yunho said, the boys looked at him with intent, seonghwa stepped forward, his shoes almost touching the captains.

“We can help find it, my mom used to read Peter pan to me when i was little,” Yunho chuckled at Seonghwa while shaking his head, standing up and grabbing your hand, tilting his head at the small boy.

“Maybe in a few years if we still haven’t found it,” yunho said with a slight smile, bringing the large hat up and dropping it down onto seonghwa’s head. It covered most of his eyes, him having to push it back to see up towards the two adults. The other small boys looked towards seonghwa with a bit of jealousy in their eyes, since they also wanted a Pirates hat.

“Now dont you let anything happen to that hat,” Yunho said, a smile gracing his face. Seonghwa gave him a thumbs up, feeling Mingi pull at the feather that adorned the top.

“And don't you let any bad guys think you’re a pirate now, you’re still a babe,” You said, watching how his cheeks tinted pink at the title of ‘babe’. Only his mother called him that, he didn't even consider himself a baby.

Yunho bought a hand up to his lips, bringing in a large breath and whistling loudly, the small boys jumped in surprise, still not used to it even after hearing it every time they came to town. The two adults in front of them looked back down, You smiled while leaning back down and kissing seonghwa’s cheek softly, leaning over him afterwards to pinch at Jongho’s chubby cheeks and ruffling San's hair. you linked arms with Yunho, both of them waving goodbye to them before turning and walking back to the ship. Their feet walking in sync.

“Do you think they’ll come back, Seonghwa?” Yeosang said softly, his brows furrowed. Seonghwa pursed his lips, bringing his hand up to push his hair back.

Walking back onto the ship, yunho turned towards you quickly and softly slapped the back of your head, you yelped and brought a hand up to rub at the spot he slapped.

“What’s that for?” you said, glaring at him.

“We can't take them, (y/n), you know that. If we do it’d be kidnapping and child endangerment,” He said towards you, you just grinned, shrugging your shoulders.

“I just wanted them to think they could come with us, I've seen them with their mothers yunho, they're so mean,” you said softly, brushing your hair back from your shoulders.

“They may be mean, but you know they wouldn’t survive with us,” he said softly, watching the way you signed and nodded your head.

Both of them walked up to the upper deck, looking back at the village. The crew was rushing to get back to the ship, some with large back of food and others with medium size bags of gold coins they managed to get from pawning. Yunho glanced at you, noting the way you watched the group of small boys running down the main road, the large hat slowly disappearing from sight.

“You’ll see them again, maybe if we manage to find the island, we can somehow find a way to get them there,” he whispered, causing you to turn towards him. Stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist, he put an arm around your shoulders, noting how small you were compared to himself.

“Every time you guys get close like that, it makes me wanna throw up,” A voice stated, causing you to turn and glare. Woohyuk smiled at your expression, carrying a small barrel of gun power. Changmin followed closely behind his brother, walking past quickly and slapping the back of his head. Changmin looked towards you both and gave a sweet smile, you began to mirror it before you remembered Woohyuk’s comment.

“At least I have somebody to do it with,” You said with gritted teeth, taking pride in the way Woohyuk’s cheeks tinted pink. Yunho rolled his eyes and watched as he set down the large barrel next to the others, disgust settling in his gut when he saw how dirty his hands were. Changmin quickly disappeared with whatever he was carrying, but you knew he would be back to collect his brother if nobody else did.

“Go wash your hands, they are filthy,” Yunho stated, Woohyuk only smirked and walked closer to the captain, holding his hands out in a teasing way. “Oh no~ My dirty fingers are gonna taint your purity~”

Yunho quickly let you go, stepping backwards with a harsh glare on his features, "Woohyuk, I swear to god if you touch me with those filthy hands, I’ll throw you over myself,” He growled out, watching the way Woohyuk wiggled his fingers as he got closer.

“I’m gone for one moment, and he’s already acting up,” You heard Jinhyun say from behind you, you looked back towards your boatswain with a smile. He had two bags of oranges in his hands, his eyes glazed with fatigue of running around trying to find everybody. “Looks like you missed this one,” You said softly, crossing your arms and leaning onto the large pillar housing the main mast.

Jinhyun groaned before stomping his foot on the ground, grabbing the attention of the Powder Monkey and Captain. You laughed at how mad Yunho looked, paired with Woohyuk’s small smirk.

“Would you get your ass back to work? We set sail in ten,” He said, causing Woohyuk to roll his eyes and walk away. He was more than likely going down to the lower deck to tend to the cannons, he couldn't forget to clean them before they parted from shore.

You glanced around and noticed Eunhyuk already on board, he was up by the wheel watching everybody on the main deck. He didn't have a smile on his face, but that didn't stop his eyes from showing amusement at the current quarrel. “Can somebody help, please?” You heard Chan say softly, his arms full of large white bags filled with different foods.

You were about to rush over and go help, but Minhyun, your quartermaster, was already there behind him. He grabbed one of the heavier bags and helped him carry them to the kitchen. Chan was always soft spoken, but Minhyun was always there to listen to him.

Looking around and taking roll, you pushed off of the pillar and made your way up the stairs towards the wheel. Yunho was hot on your heels, nodding towards Eunhyuk.

“Everybody here?” Yunho questioned, brows furrowing and looking towards you.

“All crew have been accounted for,” You said with a smile, you quickly covered your ears when yunho brought his fingers up to his mouth once more, letting out a shrill whistle. Everybody on board began to move around then, Woohyuk appeared from the lower deck and began to crank a pulley to bring up the anchor. Jinhyun began to bark orders to everybody, his voice wasn't as demanding as Minhyun’s or Yunho’s, but it still got the point across.

Changmin quickly rushed over to the main mast, pulling on many ropes and letting the main mast fall from its ties. You never got over how beautiful The Aurora was, her main masts were a beautiful white. The flag that adorned your ships insignia was a white compass, with a blue and black background.

“Let’s begin,” Yunho said, and with that the ship began to move slowly away from the docks, the village slowly leaving your sight.

----

It had been a few weeks since your last visit with the 7 boys, and being on a ship wasn't all that bad. Sure, there was the occasional sea sickness and rough storms that happen sometimes, but there was also the clear blue skies and the water that was almost see through on sunny days. Currently, you were on the main deck, leaning over the side of the ship. Looking down, you could see the waves crashing against the side of the boat, the paint fading with time. Yunho was currently inside his room, probably talking to Eunhyuk about navigation. Eunhyuk was a nice guy, he was a giant flirt, but he was able to get the ship to any point in the ocean.

With the skies being clear as can be today, it was the perfect time to steer the ship in the correct direction. Eunhyuk was able to somehow pinpoint the location of the island, he was just trying to locate different villages to stop by for food and clothes. Yunho didn't want to stop, you knew he didn't, but Eunhyuk said it was vital. Your Yunho was a determined one, he promised in hushed whispers that he would get you to the island.

You met Yunho when he was 16, he was a mere boatswain at the time. Being in charge of ensuring the condition of the ship, the captain was an old man who favored him way too much, taking him in when nobody else would, but the quartermaster, the man who ensured the captain's orders were fulfilled, didn't. He saw his position as second to the captain threatened, and brought you onto the ship so Yunho would get distracted, enraging the captain. The quartermaster was right, you did distract yunho. With sneaking around and stolen kisses throughout the day, the captain noticed it all. While the quartermaster thought he would get mad, in reality he was anything but upset. He was happy the once small and closed off boy was happy, holding hands and running around like an idiot in love.

After the captain died, giving his position to Yunho, the quartermaster left, cursing the now 18 year old to hell. Yunho closed himself off afterwards, staying locked away in his room and cursing the world for taking away the only father figure he had. He didn’t lock out though, he let you hold him when he cried, let you kiss away his tears and brush his tangled hair in the morning when he was too tired to do so. After a month of his sulking, you finally kicked him into gear. Yelling at him that the crew needs him to be a captain, and the ship needs to see the world. He was able to put on his fresh black brimmed hat and step up to the plate.

“What’re you doing out here, Little girl?” Speak of the devil, you heard Yunho call out from behind you, hearing him walk closer. You smiled and turned your back to the ocean, leaning up against the low rail, tailbone resting against the dark wood.

“I’m just waiting for you, Captain,” He raised an eyebrow, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning back to look down at you. Smiling, you brought your hands up to his shoulders.

Leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder, his hands came down to rest on your hips, giving them a squeeze. You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Feeling him lean down and put his head against your neck. He’s gotten taller over the years, you use to be the taller one, now Yunho towers over you. It sometimes amazed you how much he’s grown, from the scrawny 16 year old to the now wide-shouldered and healthy 21 year old. His skin had a healthy glow from the ocean sun, and his eyes showed a mature shine you’re sure you didn't reflect. Yunho was a man, while you considered yourself still a child. Yet, you weren't that much younger than him, only 2 years younger.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long, baby,” he said softly, turning his head and kissing your cheek softly.

“It’s alright, time passes quickly when you look at the pretty waves,” you replied softly. You felt him smile against your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you. Sighing, you brought your head back and looked at him, Yunho reminded you of a bear, with his soft blonde hair and honey colored skin, he gave off the aura of a teddy bear a small child would get.

“But, I did get lonely, the waves can only do so much for a lovesick woman,” You said with a hum, slightly swaying from side to side. Yunho smiled, leaning back and looking down at you. The wind blew through his hair, making it seem messy and unkempt. You reached your hand up, brushing your fingers through it.

“What should I do to make it up to you, baby?” He said, tilting his head slightly. You hummed, bringing a finger up and tapping your chin softly. “Can I have a kiss?” You questioned, he laughed, nodding and leaning down.

The first time you kissed Yunho, it was messy and wet. Neither of you knew what you were doing, but it was okay. You remember how his hands were trembling on your waist, you felt him hold his breath, having to stand on his toes slightly to kiss you. Now when he kisses you, it takes your breath away, how his soft lips felt against yours. His kisses range from soft and loving, to fast and desperate. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer. He let out a sigh, breaking the kiss for a moment before continuing. His lips moved against yours easily, learning what you liked after so many years together. You wrapped your arms further around his neck, playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck.

You felt him groan, pushing you against the railing. Feeling your balance slip, you quickly slapped a hand against the railing to ensure you didn't fall backwards off the ship, even though you knew Yunho had a tight grip on you. He pushed further, his knee coming between your legs and moving between them. Reaching both arms down to grab under your thighs, lifting you up onto the railing. You laughed softly, breaking the kiss and looking at him, his cheeks were a soft pink, opening his eyes and showing you how dilated they were. Whining softly, he chased after your lips. You met him halfway, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access, biting his bottom lip softly.

His hands slowly made their way up your thighs, slipping the tips of his fingers underneath your shirt. You arched your back, feeling heat beginning to pool at the bottom of your stomach. Feeling Yunho smirk against your lips, he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You gladly accepted, the both of you fighting for dominance, but Yunho easily won. His hands slipping fully under your shirt and holding your back.

Suddenly remembering where you were, you pulled away and put your hands on his chest. He frowned, taking his hands away and placing them at the top of your thighs.

“As much as I'd love to continue this, we’re in public,” You whispered to him, glancing around and noting the eyes that glanced at you both every few moments. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows, looking around as well and glaring at the onlookers for ruining his fun. Looking back at you, he gave you a smirk.

“That hasn’t stopped us before,” He teased, stepping as close as he could, his hips pressed against your, you could feel the outline on him on your thigh, not surprised that just your kissing riled him up so much. You blushed, lightly smacking him on the shoulder.

“That was after everybody went to bed, not in broad daylight, idiot,” you hissed, glaring at him while pushing him away. Jumping down from the railing and walking towards his room. Turning around and walking backwards, you winked softly at him. You laughed when you saw him pull at his collar, looking around and further glaring at the other men.

“Get back to work! I don't pay you to play around,” he hissed, you laughed, turning and climbing the stairs to the upper deck. Walking down the hallway on the side of the ship, you heard quick footsteps behind you. Already knowing who it was, you slowed down. Feeling arms coming to wrap around your waist, kisses being laid on your neck. You laughed softly, grabbed the hands that were wrapped around your waist.

Twisting the knob to your and Yunho’s bedroom, he pushed you both through, turning you both around so your back was pressed up against the wood. You gasped when his kisses got more rough, more desperate than the ones before. Yunho reaches down, grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, arms tightly around his neck. He connects your lips again, this time more desperate and rushed. Dominating your mouth, he pulled you both from the door, navigating his way to the bed on the other side of the room.

You let out a yelp when you were suddenly dropped, back being cushioned by the soft bed. Looking up at yunho, you felt yourself getting wet with the sight in front of you. His eyes were dark, lips red and swollen, the collar of his shirt loose, he looked absolutely amazing. He tilted his head slightly, smirking down at you. Reaching up and untying his shirt, the multiple buttons and ribbons holding it tight to his body, you made yourself with also untying your shirt, being only left in your thin nighty, it was see through, a pale nude color against your tan skin.

Yunho looked at your skin with hunger slowly clouding his eyes, watching the way your nipples grew hard when hit with the rooms air.

“What were you thinking, hm? Looking at me like that on deck?” He growled, putting a knee on the bed while throwing his shirt to the floor, you gulped, throwing your shirt and leaning back on your elbows. He reached down, pulling at your nighty’s elastic strap before letting go, making contact harshly with your skin, making you jump back. It didn’t hurt, he only pulled it back slightly.

“Answer me, baby,” he said, bringing his hands back up and unbuttoning the top of his pants. The gems on his fingers shining in the light, his fingers looked delicious.

“I was thinking about you, and how good you look,” you said softly, goosebumps rising on your skin from the way he looked at you. He bit his lip, leaning over you and kissing you again, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of your mighty, pulling it up and away before throwing it with the other clothes on the floor. He pulled back, turning his head and kissing down your jaw, sucking on the skin. You moaned softly, reaching up and pulling at the hair at the base of his neck. He groaned against your neck, reaching up and grabbing your jaw to keep you in place. His rings brushing against your skin, he pushed your legs aside to fit between them.

“You look even better than me, baby, do you know how hard it is for me not to fuck you on every surface this damn ship has?” he said, pulling back. You moaned softly, pushing your hips up against his, feeling him getting harder through his pants. He groaned, reaching down and unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down slowly.

You knew your panties were soaked, you saw it while he was pulling your pants down. He must have seen it too, groaning and throwing them to the floor, leaning back down to your neck and sucking another mark onto it, he began to kiss down your chest. Stopping to bring a nipple into his mouth, you sighed, letting your head fall back against the sheets. He pinched your other nipple with his fingers, feeling your legs wrap around his waist and grind up into him, making him even harder than he already was. He pulled away from your chest, reaching down and pulling the rest of his clothes off.

Yunho’s cock wasn't big to where it would hurt you, but it wasn't small to where you couldn't feel anything. It was perfect for you, being able to reach your sweet spots and make you see blinding pleasure. Pressing his hips against yours, his cock rested between your lips, moaning out, you lifted your hips the same time he pressed down, his tip catching onto your clit, causing both of you to moan out. Yunho leaned back down, taking a nipple back into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin, biting it softly while grinding into you.

“I assume its very hard, but right now you have an opportunity to fuck me, why not take it?” You questioned stupidly, he pulled away from your nipple, he looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, “What do you think i'm about to do, baby?” He said, coming back up and kissing down your neck, his tongue darting out to swipe against your sweet spot. You arched your back, his hips not faltering in grinding against you. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten, breath coming out in short bursts, “Please move faster,” you whispered, he smirked at you, slowing down his movements. You cried out, the tight coil disappearing as soon as it appeared. You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “I was about to cum, you bully,” you said with a breath, slapping his arm. He laughed, leaning down and biting your ear before taking the lobe between his lips, sucking on it softly.

“Please fuck me, i need you,” you pleaded, feeling the way your wetness coated your thighs from the grinding, glancing down and seeing how it coated both you and him. Yunho reached down between you, fingertips dragging up your slit, collecting your juices before bringing his hand up to his mouth, looking at you while sucking his fingertips clean, groaning softly while licking down to the rings.

“You always taste so good for me, baby girl,” he said, you moaned at the sight. He brought his hand down again, this time sinking a finger into you. Moaning out, you brought a hand up to his forearm, gripping it tightly. “Baby, please,” you gasped, feeling him add another finger, curling both up against your sweet spot. His thumb slowly began to circle your clit, pumping his fingers at a brutal pace inside you, he ensured that his rings would touch your skin, he didn’t want to hurt you with the metal. You groaned, elbow collapsing from your weight, falling back onto the bed. “I know you want me to fuck you, but you have to be patient baby girl,” he said roughly, your legs tightened around his waist, the coil in your stomach coming back. You arched your back off the bed, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, gasping out, “I’m gonna cum- please, let me cum-”

“Then cum baby, all over my fingers,” he said, pumping his fingers faster into you. Crying you, you felt the coil snap, pleasure running down your legs. Tightening your thighs around his waist, he slowed his fingers inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. “You’re such a good girl for me, always have been,” he said quietly, pulling his fingers back and popping each digit in his mouth, licking them clean.

He leaned back down, kissing you, licking into your mouth and tangling your tongues together. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the taste making you sigh softly. Pulling back, you reached down and grabbed his shaft, pumping it slowly. He groaned, leaning down and sucking on your neck. You leaned closer to him, “Fuck me now, Yunho, i need you,” you whispered, he growled, sitting up and grabbing onto your thighs, bringing them higher onto his waist and shuffling closer to you. Slapping your hand away and grabbing his cock, leaning forward and rubbing against your slit. You whined, bringing your hips up in hope you’ll catch his tip.

“What’s the magic word, baby girl?” He growled, glaring down at you. Gulping, you spread your thighs wide for him. “Please,” you said softly.

“Good girl,” he said, pushing into you in one smooth motion, hips pushing fully against yours, you moaned, gripping the blanket in your hand and arching your back. He always filled you up perfectly, his tip just kissing your cervix. You took little time adjusting to him, moving your hips slightly.

“Move, yunho, please,” you gasped out, hand coming up and gripping his arm again. He groaned and moved his hips, setting a slow pace at first, but it quickly sped up, a steady rhythm with him moving into you with skilled movements. You moaned out, pulling his arm softly to get him closer to you. He leaned down, one hand resting on your waist, the other resting on your thigh. He looked so pretty like this, his hair messy and tangled. His cheeks were red, lips swollen, eyes dilated. You whined, letting go of the blanket and wrapping an arm around his neck. He smirked, reaching down and looping an arm around your leg, bringing it up higher. It allowed him to reach deeper into you, bringing more pleasure. You moaned out, nails digging into his shoulder. He hummed, “What is it, baby?”

His hips didn't stop, his pace non faltering, you could feel the coil in your stomach appear again. This time stronger than the last, you knew you wouldn't last long. “Please, don't stop,” you said, looking at him. Sweat beading his hairline, you probably didn't look any different, you could feel your hair stick to the back of your neck, baby hairs sticking to your forehead, evidence of you both and the sun’s heat outside.

The coil in your stomach tightened, about to burst, yet it wouldn’t, you needed more. More of Yunho. “Baby- i need more, please” you rushed out, watching the way his lips tugged up into a smirk. He leaned back slightly. Licking his thumb and reaching down between your bodies, he began rubbing your clit with quick, tight circles. You yelped out, a loud moan following. He could feel your cunt tighten around him, groaning out at the feeling.

“I’m so close baby, please-” you said quickly, feeling him pick up his pace, hitching your leg higher until it was on his shoulder, leaning back and rubbing your clit harder. You reached beside your head and gripped the blanket there, arching your back off the bed and feeling your orgasm quickly approach. You could hear the bed softly creak under you, how Yunho groaned every now and then, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Cum for me, cum all over me sweet girl,” He growled, pressing his fingertips into your skin. By now, you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises.

Feeling your orgasm wash over you, you moaned loudly, walls tightened around Yunho, causing his movement to falter. Slowing down to help you through it, he leaned down and kissed you, swallowing your moans. You pulled away from him, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his forehead, turning his head slightly, he kissed the pad of your thumb. “Cum for me, Yunho,” you said softly, causing him to groan and pick up his pace again. You moaned out, feeling the waves of pleasure become overwhelming. He leaned down, kissing your collar bone, feeling the coil in his stomach tighten quicker than he wanted, you just felt so good he couldn't stop himself.

Gasping, he felt his orgasm wash over him, pushing his hips against yours, feeling him paint your walls white. He groaned out softly, “Fuck,” he whispered to you, causing you to moan softly, feeling him drop your leg from his shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his neck. While holding him close, you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him against you.

After feeling him relax against you, you relaxed your legs and let them fall from around him. Feeling drowsy already, humming to yourself in content while closing your eyes. Feeling him push off of you, pulling out while he does so, he fell beside you. Turning his body and pulling you against him, you put your hand on his chest, drawing small circles as sleep began to take over your vision.

“Do you miss them?” Yunho suddenly whispered, looking up to him you noticed his head turned towards the open window on the other side of the room. The sun was slowly setting, casting orange and red hues over the ocean. “Them?” You questioned, voice small and masked with fatigue. He nodded, glancing down at you and reaching up to run a hand through your hair, making you hum in contentment.

“The boys in the village, the ones you always talk to when we dock,” he said, turning his head back to look out the window, you looked out the window as well, watching the waters become more and more calm as time passed.

“I suppose so, i think it was San’s birthday last week,” you said, breaking the silence.

If you had to pick a favorite boy, it would have to be San, he always had a passion for doing what he loved. Whether it be singing or learning taekwondo at his father's small studio. He was quiet when you first met him, he was so young, but after you broke through to him he warmed up to you so quickly. He would run around and sing with the other boys, but he warmed your heart so much when he told you that he loved singing the tunes you taught them, whether you learned it while sailing or from your own mother. Seonghwa was protective of the other boys, so was Hongjoong, Hongjoong introduced them all first, acting as a little leader to them all. And Mingi was so sweet to you, anytime he smiled his eyes would disappear into crescent moons. Yes, they all managed to squeeze into your heart, but San did it first. If he was alone, you’d gladly adopt him, take him with you and show him the world.

“Was it? Maybe we can bring him something from the island,” Yunho said softly, his hand under your body pulled you closer, rubbing your back with small circles that matched your own.

“Why would you bring them up if we’re not even going to take them with us?” You questioned, raising your head to look at him. He pursed his lips and avoided your gaze, keeping his eyes locked on the ocean.

“We’re running out of supplies, we didn’t grab enough when we were at the village, and it's the closest one to us right now that doesn't crawl with government ships. We can either risk it at another village and get supplies there, or turn back and lose the progress we have now,” Yunho huffed out, eyebrows beginning to furrow with stress. “We’re already out in open ocean, by the time we get back it’ll be the end of summer, and then the water would be cold, who knows if the water around the island freezes during winter.” he said, bringing his free hand up and brushing his hair back. You stayed quiet, thinking of what to say to him. Yunho was always the stubborn type, once he set his mind to something he tended to keep going at it until it satisfied him.

“What do you think, sweet thing?” He questioned, finally looking down at you. Looking into his eyes, you could see the conflict in them, for once this was something he couldn't decide on his own. You gulped, weighting over the options he gave you.

“I think we should keep going, turning around would only make us lose more materials and time, no?” You said quietly, licking your lips. He hummed, looking up to the wooded ceiling. It was dark in the room now, only a sliver of sun peaking over the horizon.

“Yeah,” he said softly, chest rising and collapsing with a sigh. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. With the sun gone, it was slowly getting colder in the room, the waves crashing against the side of the ship made it sway in a slow rhythm.

“For now, lets just sleep. I’ll speak with Eunhyuk tomorrow about it, get his input,” yunho said.

You nodded your head, feeling him move into a more comfortable position while reaching down and pulling the blacker up and over your shoulders. He hummed a bit, a tune he remembered from childhood. He would hum it to you after days like this, either pull of pleasure or stress, or both. It always managed to lull you off to sleep.

—-

For the following days, you’ve been at a nearby town. It was small, the people from one side knowing the people on the other side. You and Yunho were currently in a small inn that was near the shore line, you could easily look out the window and gaze over at your ship, currently it was being cleaned down and restocked by your crew. Yunho decided to stay the night, saying it would be better instead of staying up late to ensure navigational correction.

Sitting down on the bed next to Yunho, you leaned your head down onto his shoulder. You felt him slightly shift, opening the compass in his hand. He had gotten it from his old captain, said that it’ll point to what he desired most. As he opened it, the arrow began to spin wildly, pointing off in a different direction and then back at you.

“If it doesn't stop on me, I’ll cry,” you said softly, a chuckle following. A moment later the arrow stopped on you, causing a smile to grow across your face. “Looks like you wont be crying,” Yunho said softly back, leaning his head on top of yours. You both sat in silence for a moment, listening to the footsteps outside of your door, you could even hear the lady at the front desk if you listened hard enough.

The small in you both were staying in wasn't that fancy, but it wasn't that bad either. The bed was freshly cleaned and there wasn't dust anywhere. The dresser had four drawers to hold your belongings, but you both did not have any, yours were on the ship.

“Do you wanna explore the town?” Yunho said suddenly, tilting his head slightly to look down at you. “Not really, can we just stay here until they want us to come back?” You replied, feeling his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. He shrugged your head off, standing up and walking towards the window. You didn't mind that he shrugged you off, he did it often when he had nothing to do.

Yunho looked like a fallen angel standing by the window, but he was far from an angel to you. He had on a white long sleeve shirt that was paired with a dark vest. His pants were black, tan boots paired with it. Usually he had his long jacket on, a gold intricate design etched into the sleeves and down the back. Currently, it was thrown across the bed, his new hat resting on top of a pillow.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to find the island? There's already things going wrong,” he said, voice breaking you from your thoughts. Humming, you stood. Walking over to him and grabbing hold of the hand that held the compass. Feeling how tense he was, you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I don't know,” You said, honesty lacing in your voice. With the way Yunho was pouting, you could say he looked like a puppy, maybe one of those puppies that the king and queen would get.

“You look like a puppy,” you said suddenly, causing yunho to furrow his eyebrows and look down at you in confusion. “What?” He said, glancing over at the bed quickly to toss the compass onto it. Turning back to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“A puppy,” You started with a smile, “One of those gold ones the king and queen would get,” Giving off a laugh while pulling you closer. You watched with a smile how his eyes formed into small crescent moons, and how lips curled into a perfect smile.

“I guess I’m your puppy then, huh?” He said as he stopped laughing, but his beautiful smile stayed. You could feel butterflies erupt in your belly, and how your chest felt light and airy.

“If you want to be, then you can be,” You replied, your hands rubbing up and down on his upper arms. You could feel how much muscle he’s gotten over the past few weeks. Some of the crew managed to get another few barrels of gunpowder, even some more ammo if it was needed. Yunho decided to help, carrying a barrel and even a few balls of ammo. With that, and the constant pushing and pulling of ropes and crates, his arms had gotten much bigger.

“I just want you to be happy,” He said, his voice sounding serious. That caused you to stop smiling, the butterflies and the heavenly feeling both disappearing as well.

There was a dark side to Yunho that the crew didn’t know about, how he has his own demons he sometimes has to fight each and every day. You tried to help him every chance you got, but sometimes he just wanted to be alone and work though it by himself. Today must have been one of those days.

“I’m happy, honey,” You said softly, watching how different emotions clouded his eyes. “What’s wrong?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Yunho was known to have major mood swings sometimes, one minute he would be in a good mood, then the next he would be on the edge of tears.

“I don't want you to think I'm doing all of this for myself,” he said, voice low. You sighed, shaking your head. Why did he have to start thinking of this now?

“I don't think that, i never have,” You replied, bringing your hand up to his cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth. Yunho pursed his lips, hands gripping at the white shirt you were wearing. You tilted your head at him, hair falling off of your shoulder.

“Are you sure? The compass doesn't point to just you anymore,” he said, bottom lip beginning to shake a little.

“Just because the compass doesn't point to only me, doesn't mean you don't want me anymore,”

“I know, but i don't want you to think that i don't want you anymore. You’re the only person I actually want,” he whispered, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You brought your hand up, running your fingers through his hair.

There was a sudden knock at your door, causing the both of you to pull away from each other. Yunho huffed, walking over quickly and throwing open the door. Woohyuk stood there, sweat ran down his forehead and his clothes were a bit disheveled. His chestnut hair was frizzed out from the humid weather and he was panting. Yunho leaned out to look down both sides of the hallways before glaring at the young boy in front of him.

“What is it?” He questioned, glancing back at you.

“S-sir, its Jugeom- he has Aurora pined-” Woohyuk said, his usual sarcastic attitude gone.

Aurora was your ship, Yunho decided to use it after kissing you under the Aurora Borealis, and you couldn't agree more. Aurora was pinned? Who would wanna pin her? Had the government finally caught up with you both?

“What?! When did this happen?!” Yunho yelled, turning and rushing over for his hat and coat, pulling his coat on harshly before nodding to you as a sign to follow. After all, Aurora was your ship.

Yunho ran out of the room, you and Woohyuk hot on his heels.

“How did this happen?!” Yunho yelled, causing the lady at the front desk to look at you all weirdly. You ignored her, trying your best to keep up with Yunho and Woohyuk.

“I don’t know, one minute me and Changmin were helping take stock, then the next fucking Jugeom was shooting up the place-”

“Shooting up the place?!” You shouted, boots slapping against the brick street. Woohyuk looked back at you with pursed lips, his forehead shown to the world with all the running. How he wasn't out of breath astonished you.

“Yeah, he was spewing some shit about that compass you always have cap, but none of us know what he’s talking about,” Woohyuk said, turning his attention back towards the front.

As you all got closer to the coast, you could see the bright red and black flag of your enemy, Kim Jugeom. The man had his ship right up against yours, sails tangling together and black smoke rising from your beautiful ship, evidence of the fire he had set to your main mast. You could feel your gut fill with worry, where the hell was your crew? Are they all okay?

By the time you made it to the docks, you could smell the broken barrels of gunpowder, and you could hear Minhyun putting up a fight, could hear him yell out to get off the ship, how he’ll shoot him if he doesn't. It only made your gut drop, wishing you had your sword or your gun with you to be able to protect them.

Yunho suddenly stops, arms stretched out so you and Woohyuk run into them. Woohyuk glares at his captain, not appreciating the arm to the throat. “Woohyuk,” Yunho said coldly, not taking his eyes off the Aurora.

“Yeah?” He replied, staring at Yunho with furrowed eyebrows, Yunho only pursed his lips.

“Do you still have that compass i gave you?”

“Uh, Yeah? Don't know why you gave it to m-”

“Let me have it, now.” Yunho growled, he reached down and unhooked his compass, he had managed to swipe it off of the bed along with his coat back at the Inn. Woohyuk did the same, reaching down to his belt to untie the old compass. The old thing was Yunho’s first ever compass, it broke not long after he bought it, causing it to never point to true north. Yunho held out his hand and Woohyuk gave it to his quickly.

“(y/n), Take this, and don't you ever give it to anybody,” Yunho said, thrusting the good compass into your hands, you glanced down at its black casing before looking back up at Yunho.

“What’re you planning, cap?” Woohyuk said, the sword at his side glimmered, the golden handle tinted with gunpowder. “Something neither of you are going to like,” He said honestly, deciding not to look back at both of you.

“Yunho- Yunho!” You called out behind him, watching him for a moment how he began to stride forward. Woohyuk followed behind you, making sure that you were okay.

You stopped behind Yunho once you both got onto Aurora, the gut feeling only getting worse when seeing Chan tied up by the stairs, his eyes wide with fright. You could feel your eyes begin to burn, looking up and seeing Minhyun bloody and bruised on the floor. Yunho glared at the men dressed in old dirty clothes before him. Jugeom stood in front of a kneeling Minhyun, the way the older man was smiling made your stomach curl. Yunho could only stand before him, he didn't have his gun or his sword. He didn't know that this was going to happen at all. Minhyun leaned down onto his hands, his head following forward.

“Ah, Welcome to the party, Yunho,” Jugeom stated, the cigarette between his lips moving with every word. Yunho glared at him, not moving from his place. You slowly put the compass behind your back, tying it to your pants and sliding the bottom of your shirt over it, hoping that nobody could see it. Changmin was near Minhyun, also knocked out cold. There was a pistol not too far away from his body, meaning he tried to fight for The Aurora. He didn't look too bad, only having a split eyebrow.

“How are you here?” Yunho questioned, staring at the old man while taking into account where the rest of his crew is. Jugeom sighed and rolled his eyes, not wanting to explain everything to the younger.

“We simply tracked you, took note in where you stopped before and followed you every since. You know- You all are pretty dense to another ship following you,” Jugeom stated, a chuckle following.

“The hell do you want, Jugeom?” Yunho growled, hands curling at his sides. The man next to Jugeom smirked, walking over with another man to further surround you and your crew. Woohyuk turned around behind you, pointing his sword at one of Jugeoms men.

“You know what i want, little boy-”

“We both know i'm not little anymore, ass-hat,”

Jugeom only let out a deep laugh at that, the hat on his head tilting back to reveal an ugly scar that covered the side of his face. You had only seen him once before, and that was when you were little. Yunho went to take a step forward, but was stopped by the man on the other side of Jugeom, a blade now pointing at Yunho.

“And we both know i'm not going to give it to you, what's mine is mine, now get off my ship,” Stated Yunho, you could feel the dark aura pulse off of him, how he was holding back from jumping past the man and tackling Jugeom to the ground. Minhyun was trying to stand, blood trickling past his broken lip, but another one of Jugeoms men walked forward and pulled his foot back, releasing it to kick Minhyun in the ribs, a sickening crack following. You jumped, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from how Minhyuk cried out in agony. You didn't look at how he slumped to the ground, how the same man kicked away his sword before stepping back in line with the others.

“But I have a proposition for you, little boy!” Jugeom said with a smile, glancing back and nodding his head. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows, hands relaxing at his sides. You peered around his body, feeling dread creep up your spine with what you saw.

Seonghwa looked horrible, his hair was matted and he had a black eye beginning to form. His clothes were torn and his skin a sickly pale, tripping over himself. He came out first, the other boys soon following, but they didn't look any better.

This is when you rushed forwards past Yunho, but his arms circled around your waist to keep you further away from the sick man in front of you. Jongho and Wooyoung cried out for you, trying to rush forward and into your arms. Yet, the men that held them pulled them back, causing them to fall onto each other.

“You’re sick!” You cried out, gut curling with the way Jugeom only smiled at the way you were acting. Yunho quickly put you down, yet pushed you behind him and into Woohyuk’s awaiting arms. You continued to cry out and yell, but they soon died down when Yunho turned and looked at you.

“Now, if you want the boys, then you give me what i want,” Jugeom stated, nodding towards the boys and then back at you. Yunho cursed under his breath, the last thing he wanted was to give him the compass and the maps leading towards Pans Island. Even if he gave him the items, he would more than likely kill the boys before letting them go, Yunho knew Jugeom way too well.

“What if you take me instead, they won't be able to find it without me. I’m the only one who desires it the most. Plus, we both know you won't leave unless blood is spilled,” Yunho stated, stepping forward while holding his hands out. You could feel all the air leave your body, you could only hear static after he said that.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You yelled out to him, yet Yunho didn't look at you. You could feel the way Woohyuk froze behind you, and how your other crew mates were staring at Yunho like he grew three heads.

“Hm, and whose blood will I shed, eh?” Jugeom questioned, stepping forward and shrugging his shoulders.

“You already beat the kids, and Minhyun. You’ve burned my ship, and now you’ll get the captain. Yet, once i go with you, you’ll never bother The Aurora again, or i'll kill you in your sleep,” Yunho growled, watching the way Jugeom’s smile turned into a smirk.

“Yunho, we can figure something out,” Jinhyun said, you hadn't even noticed he was tied to the main mast. Next to him was Eunhyuk, the younger having a cut running down the side of his cheek. Yunho shook his head slightly, sighing through his nose. Jugeom had a sick smile on his face now, his teeth an ugly yellow.

“Not this time, we’ve been avoiding confrontation for awhile now, haven't we, Jugeom?” Yunho said, his voice was hard. You could feel your energy draining, you couldn't even tell if you were breathing or not.

“I suppose we can solve it with you coming with me, huh?” Jugeom said, making you look up at him. Even with your vision blurred with tears, you could see how the boys looked petrified, how Wooyoung and San were trying to cling to each other.

“You let those boys go first, then i'll go,” Yunho stated, watching the way Jugeom sighed and looked at the seven kids.

Once Jugeom nodded his head, the boys were released. Each one flying past Yunho and into your awaiting arms, Woohyuk let you go slightly to let you grab onto them. You clutched them to you, a sob escaping past your lips when you felt their hands grip at your shirt. You looked back up at Yunho, but already found him looking back at you. “Please, don't do this,” You said softly.

Jugeom’s other men slowly began to make their way back onto his ship, their smirks and smiles made Chan’s eyes fill with tears. Minhyun was still losing blood on the main deck, his body looking broken and beaten, the wood underneath beginning to color red. Jinhyun had a hard glare on his face, his hands red from being tied tightly. Changmin was slowly starting to wake up, but was kicked by one of the men that was walking past, causing him to let out a grunt before losing consciousness again.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him say softly, causing your heart to shatter. You could feel the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks faster, the boys you were holding hid their faces in your shoulder, some being held by Woohyuk’s free arm. “Yunho!” You cried, but he ignored you. Walking forward and coming nose to nose with the other captain. Jugeom smiled, bringing his hand up and patting his shoulder.

“No! Yunho- please!” You yelled, attempting to free yourself from the smaller boys, but with Woohyuk’s arm around you, you couldn't go anywhere.

Yunho glanced at you once more, his eyes rimmed with red. Another sob escaping you when you watched him turn around and walk onto the neighboring ship with Jugeom, the thin board connecting the two looked close to breaking from the mean body weight.

The last man following your Yunho and Jugeom held a gun up, pointing it at you and Woohyuk. Changmin was still knocked out cold, you could hear Chan cry quietly, his arms probably rubbed raw. Jinhyun and Eunhyuk stayed tied to the pillar, tears falling down their faces slowly at hearing your cries.

“Yunho!”

----

“(y/n)?”

There was a knock at the door, the soft voice and knocks breaching through your silent sanctuary. You were curled up in bed, eyes swollen and probably red. The thin blanket was wrapped around your body making you seem like a butterfly in its cocoon. You knew that whoever was on the other side didn't leave, you knew they’d come in anyways, just like everybody else did.

Yunho has been gone for three days now.

The yunho shaped wound left by him still stung just as bad as the day he left. Each time you closed your eyes you could still clearly see him walk away, not even giving you a second glance. Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he just give them the stupid compass?

“(y/n) I’m coming in, please be dressed,” you heard the voice say again, but you didn't shift your eyes away from the window. The soft blue and pink tones gave off the first glimpses of the new day. The beginning of the fourth day without Yunho there, without Yunho to kiss you goodnight or mess around with Eunhyuk or Minhyun.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” with the voice clear, you knew it belonged to Chan. Suddenly, you could see how scared he looked when tied up. How his wrists were bleeding when Woohyuk took the ropes away, how his lips trembled with fear of losing his life. He was young, he had never experienced an enemy ship boarding.

The bed dipped behind you, and you heard Chan sigh. “How’re you feeling?” He said softly, his voice cutting through the air like a thick knife. You didn't say anything, didn't move, just kept breathing. That didn't stop Chan though, he kept talking like you were going to respond.

“The little ones are doing okay now. Sure, they’re still shaken up, but they’ll manage,” He said, a chuckle following.

He swallowed, licking his lips. He knew that you weren't going to respond, not after Yunho leaving. He watched the way you broke down, how you cried until your throat was cracking and raw. He was the one who got you to drink and eat his food, though it was difficult at first. You cried for hours on end, he and everybody else was there for you.

“We need you, (y/n). Y- He may have been captain, but you’re our first mate. We need somebody now,” he started, turning to look down at your form. You still hadn't moved, your breathing still even. It made him wonder if you were asleep, or just ignoring him completely.

“Minhyun said that once the ship is in working order, we’re heading for him. Seonghwa said that the village’s gone. It was in flames by the time Jugeoms ship left the dock, seonghwa said that they don't have a home to go back to; so we’re going to have to take them with us,” Chan said, his eyebrows furrowing. He listened closely how your breathing stopped for a moment, then how your shoulders began to shake. Small whimpers passing by your lips.

“Just come out when you’re ready, please, we miss you,” Chan said while standing up quickly, walking to the door and exiting quickly. He shut your door softly behind him and walking back out onto the main deck.

“Any luck?” Minhyun said, Chan responded with a shake of his head.

Minhyun had been the first to get treated after Woohyuk had untied Chan, after recognizing that his wrists were injured, he ran to Minhyun’s side, evaluating him and yelling at Woohyuk to get a crap ton of bandages from the med room. Currently, he was leaning against the railing right by the wheel, his waist was wrapped with bandages, and his face had been clean and stitched.

“You know, i might as well become the new damn captain if she isn't-”

“She’s devastated, Minhyun!” Chan yelled, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. The other boys on the deck stopped what they were doing to look up at the two.

Chan had only raised his voice one other time, and that was when Woohyuk took it too far with him in the kitchen and almost blew the entire ship up. Now here he was again, making Chan yell.

Minhyun could only stare at Chan with a glare etched onto his face, hazel eyes covered in a mix of pain and anger. Chan couldn't match up to his glare, but his dark brown eyes showed guilt, sorrow, and pain.

“You need to understand where she's coming from,” Chan seethed through gritted teeth, he clenched his hands (even though he could feel pain pulse form his wrists, wrapped in a layer of gauze).

Minhyun lost his glare for a moment, looking at him like he was crazy. “I have two broken ribs, a cut eyebrow, and a cut lip. You really think i don’t know where she’s coming from?”

Chan was then reflecting the look he was given, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing for a moment to recollect his thoughts.

“She practically lost her husband, she actually lost the love of her life to the enemy,” Chan paused for a moment, lowering his voice, “Usually they kick ass together, but i think seeing us all hurt and unavailable made him recall his shots, and i guess she thought the same after seeing all the kids she practically calls-” Chan stopped himself, knowing that he was starting to rant off. Minhyun sighed and brought his hand up, rubbing at his jawline where it didn't hurt.

“Calls her own, i know.” Minhyun said softly, his hand falling down to his side. He glanced off to the side, looking down at the kids, one or two of them being tended to by the remaining crew on board.

“They all talk about her like she’s their mom, or older sister. They’re really worried” Minhyun said softly, looking back at Chan.

The two of them stood in silence for a moment, listening to San’s small giggles at Changmin. Even though they were all hurt, emotionally and physically, they pulled through in the last four days. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon now, the blue hues turning into beautiful golden rays. Tonight was the first night everybody stayed awake, all telling stories to take their minds off of the chaos around them.

Eunhyuk had found that the map room was ransacked, they took the maps leading to the Island. He was devastated, even almost started crying if it wasn't for Yeosang who came up and held his hand for comfort. Minhyun was trying his best to keep everybody together, from the maps to the compass, he really was trying. He talked to the boys a little bit, learning about each one. Jongho was his current favorite, but don't tell Wooyoung that.

“She’ll come around, she just needs time,” Chan was quiet when he spoke, but Minhyun was able to hear him. The amount of comfort in Chan's voice made his stress levels decrease just a bit.

The next following days had some, peculiar progress. You had managed to come out of your room, a frown was still etched onto your face, but the Seonghwa and Wooyoung managed to make a smile crack onto your features.

The ship had managed to get back into shape, and was now at sea. The mask was ripped in a few places, and the flag that bared the ships insignia was still burned on the edges. You managed to take over as captain of the Aurora, but you let Jinhyun and Minhyun do most of the heavy lifting. There was still a dark shadow over your heart, the events of that day still haunting your every waking moment.

The boys had found home on the ship, the makeshift bunk beds on the lower deck was more than enough. They were read to before bed, Eunhyuk did that. He would read them some of his books he used to study English literature with; he would read the books when the sky was clear, and when the seas would rock the boat slightly to give off the illusion of the rocking chair his mother used when he was a baby.

Chan went back to cooking, his mind getting lost in the various ingredients and combinations of different flavors. Hongjoong would help with the cooking, but he was in charge of watching the water and telling Chan when it was boiling. Mingi also helped, his job was to mix all of the chopped vegetables together in one large bowl. Jinhyun went back to barking out orders to everybody, and Changmin went back to the lower parts of the ship where he and Woohyuk played poker every moment. The two brothers were inseparable, Woohyuk would always win the games, making Changmin yell so loud everybody on board would be able to hear him.

Although, with Yunho gone, there was a constant shadow. Not just over your heart, but over everybody's. Eunhyuk was trying his best to find out where they might have gone with the remaining maps that were left, and he once said he was close to a theory on where they could be.

That was where you were currently heading, off to a nearby village that was fairly small, but made profit off of their large fishing market. Eunhyuk said that when he got a glance at the ship before they boarded, they looked to be low on materials. You jumped onto the idea quickly, telling him to take the Aurora there as soon as possible so they wouldn't miss them.

It had already been a week, you knew that if you were lucky they would still be there. It was a long shot, but you were willing to bet Yunho made them stay for a dumb reason.

You were sitting next to Seonghwa, his hands had gotten dirtier over the days helping Woohyuk and Changmin clean spilled gunpowder from the lower decks. You were leaning against the railing, elbows perched on it. Seonghwa was more daring, sitting directly on top with his legs dangling over the edge. You had yelped in fright when seeing him jump up onto the railing, instructing him to hang onto the rope that connected to the main mast next to him. Stating that if he were to fall, he would be able to hang on until you saved him.

Your eyes were closed, listening to the waves crash against the side. You imagined for a moment, that Yunho would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist while peppering kisses down your neck.

“I really like it here,” Seonghwa said, causing you to turn your head slightly to look at him, cracking one of your eyes open. Smiling softly, you hummed.

“Everybody's really nice, and everybody likes it here too,” he said again. By everybody, you guess he meant the other boys. You knew they did, from the way they all ran around and had fun. To the way their laughter filled the empty parts of the ship, and how they brought the bright aura back. Almost chasing away the lingering sadness, almost.

“I’m glad,” you said softly, turning back and closing your eyes. Drinking in the sun and hearing the birds sing above you. The little boy next to you was silent though, but you knew his mind must have been working a million miles a minute.

“Do you think I belong here?” you suddenly heard seonghwa ask, you opened your eyes and turned to him. He pursed his lips and looked at you creepily.

“Hm,” You hummed, furrowing your eyebrows. Seonghwa sucked in a breath, holding a hand up to you.

“It’s just that- well- after what happened to my village I- we,” he paused, eyes brimming red for a second, “We don't have anywhere we belong,” he stated, his voice breaking off at the end.

“Well, nobody really belongs anywhere,” you began, watching the way his eyes snapped to meet yours, “we all choose where we want to be, we all choose our path in life. I think that wherever you want to be the most is where you belong. Whether that belongs with us, or with a family in a village,” you said, thinking of your Yunho.

He had said those same words to you once, when you were both young and stupid. He had taken to the back of the ship, kissed you senseless and made you breathless. Whispering how much he loved you, how much he wanted to run away with you and get married. How he wanted to get your own ship, name it after you and let you run it all by yourself, a woman captain. You had asked him suddenly ‘where do i belong then, with you or the ship?’

Even though you said it in a teasing way, he only smiled at you, pulled you closer and kissed your nose briefly. Telling you that only you could decide where you belong.

From that moment on, you only wanted to belong to him. To grow older with him and marry him, but now he wasn't here, and you felt so lost without him.

“Then i wanna stay with you and the captain,” seonghwa said suddenly, causing you to look at him in shock. He smiled at you, teeth a bright white, eyes a cute crescent moon. You smiled back at him, leaning over and pulling him into your side for a small hug. You paused for a moment, looking over at the horizon with teary eyes.

“Yunho,” You said, it was the first time you uttered his name since the day he left. It felt like heaven leaving your lips again, but it hurt all the same that it wasn't Yunho himself you were saying it to.

“What?” seonghwa questioned, looking up and raising his eyebrows at you. Laughing for a moment, you licked your lips, a sad smile taking over your face.

“The Captain, his name is Yunho,” you said softly, tears quickly blurring your vision. You blinked a few times, successfully making them disappear.

“I never really knew the captain,” he said in a hushed voice, lips forming a small line. You looked back out towards the sea, the sun's reflection making it seem like there were a thousand diamonds floating on top.

“Can you tell me about him?” He said again. His voice was hesitant, as if he was scared to ask you.

You only smiled at him, bringing your hand up and brushing his black hair out of his eyes. “When we get him back, you’ll be able to talk to him all you’d like with the others,” You said. Leaning your weight on one foot, crossing the other one over. You hand went back down to support your body weight against the railing, and you were sure there would be wood indents on the bottom of your arms.

“You’re going to let the others stay too?” Seonghwa said excitedly, a smile creeping onto his cherub face.

You nodded, “of course, i love all of you guys, how could i not want you all to stay?” he couldn't help the smile that fully took over, looking at you like you blessed the world with candy before looking back out to the open water.

Glancing behind you, you noticed Chan coming out of the door that led to the kitchen. He looked towards you and smiled, raising his hand and waving. He then turned and rushed up the stairs, going towards the bell and grabbing the short robe connecting to the pendulum inside. Covering the ear closest, he began to swing it widely, the high pitched ringing breaking the calmness the ship possessed before. Seonghwa jumped, eyes wide with shock from the sound. You laughed, pushing yourself away from the railing and grabbing his hand to help him off.

“Let’s head to eat, I'm sure you're starving.”

---

With the sun just peaking over the horizon, blue water painted a gold. You saw the village, the small homes dark and the streets empty. The sight of Jugeom’s worn ship made your stomach twist, the thought of Yunho on board making you sick to your stomach. You were standing beside Eunhyuk, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white. Changmin was sitting with Minhyun not too far away, and you turned to them slightly.

“We need swords, guns, and ammo. Make it happen before we anchor down,” You said, eyes narrowing when looking back up. Changmin nodded before shooting up and running to the lower decks as quiet as he possibly could

You managed to make it to the village unseen, the familiar sight of Jugeom’s boat caught you off guard since you thought he would have made a break for the island by now. You told Eunhyuk to anchor the boat further away from the docks so you wouldn't be seen, and you left Chan to watch over the six boys. Although they were sleeping currently, you knew that wouldn't last long.

You quickly turned and rushed back to your room, slipping on your jacket and switching out your deck boots for the thicker boots you use when you go into any type of battle. The compass Yunho gave you was sitting peacefully on your desk, untouched since you took it off the day you stumbled into your room and sobbing mess. Looking beside it, you saw Yunho’s favorite ring. He wore it when he knew he would be fighting a battle that was going to be difficult to win, just like you were now. The band was thick and silver, while the diamond placed in the middle was a beautiful blue, there were engravings on the side, and even a few smaller diamonds placed throughout. You smiled softly, sliding the ring onto your thumb. Reaching over and grabbing your glove.

While Yunho often held a sword with his left hand, you held it with your right. He said it felt more natural that way, but you still called him weird. One day a year or two ago, he brought home a pair of gloves, one being bigger than the other. He stated that the leather will help with gripping the sword better, and he thought that it’d be cool for the two of you to be matching while kicking ass. So your right hand now adorned a glove, while the left held a gun.

“Are you sure about this?” Minhyun asked while you walked out of your room, you nodded your head. The only sounds in the hallway was the clicking of your boots.

“We’re getting him back, not tomorrow, not the next day, today.” You seethed, wanting to get yunho back as soon as possible. You knew Minhyun was worried, after all, he wasn't able to go with you. It would just be you, Changmin, and Eunhyuk.

“It’s dangerous, (y/n),” Minhyun said, voice hard. You glared at him, seeing Changmin holding guns and swords in his arms.

“Yunho would do the same for any of us,”

“But Yunho would want everybody to be safe-”

“All i want to do is slip in and out- even though i really want to kill the son of a bitch, i won't. Right now, my main priority is getting Yunho,” you said harshly, not feeling sorry for how Minhyun flinched.

The three of you made your way off the ship, stopping to give Minhyun a quick hug. The sword on your hip tapped against your thigh as you walked, and the pistol strapped against your thigh itched to be used. Eunhyuk and Changmin walked closely behind you, their feet in time with yours.

As you got closer to the small town, you took in how pretty it actually was. The houses were different colors of an off white, light blue, brown, and even some soft pink. All having the same brown details, white curtains hanging on the inside to bring out the windows. The roofs a dark brown, sloped towards the sky. The streets were paved with stones, flowers and bushes occupying some corners.

To ensure that you didn't get caught by any of Jugeom’s crew, you stayed pretty close to the sides of the streets, making sure to quicken your feet as to not alarm anybody who could have just woken up. You stopped for a moment, turning sharply into an alley with the two other boys to talk to them.

“He has to be at an inn somewhere, any ideas?”

“I saw a town map at the entrance, there's only one,” Eunhyuk said, you sighed in relief for his keen eyes, since you didn't see it. You raised your eyebrows and waved a hand around for a moment, “Well? Where is it?” you said, causing him to let out a quiet “oh,” before looking around a moment, pointing down one of the adjoining roads.

“It could possibly be down that way, i could be-” You didn't give him time to finish, already making your way out of the alley and to the street. Changmin chuckled softly while slapping his shoulder lightly, rushing over to keep up with you, “wrong.”

The inn was an adorable place, the building a soft pink while the shutters were a pristine white. It shocked you for a moment to think that Jugeom would actually stay there. You noticed two of his men sitting out at a table, the umbrella still up from the previous day. One was a blonde, he was sleeping with his head resting against his arms on the table. The other, a brunette, was sleeping on a chair, his head rolled back uncomfortably.

Changmin coughed softly to get your attention, “should we kill em?” he said, unsure of what you wanted to do. You shook your head, pursing your lips, “Yunho wouldn't want that, but do it if they are in the way,” you spoke softly, making sure to keep your eyes on the sleeping pair.

“Damn,” Changmin whispered, you could feel a laugh rise in your throat, having to swallow it down.

You huffed a breath, crouching down slowly and rushing to the side of the building. There was a window that overlooked the harbor, the curtains open slightly from the inside. You peered inside and saw an empty bedroom, quickly ducking and going to the next. This window was open slightly, the curtains’ edges softly kissing the morning air. Walking closer and peering in, you quickly pulled back once seeing who was inside. Turning around and heading back to where the other two boys were across the street.

“He’s not over there, and there's no windows on the other side. We’re going to have to go inside,” you said, causing the two boys to nod. Eunhyuk's fingers danced over the hilt of his sword, the gold fading into silver from how much he had to grab it.

“We’re going to have to sneak by those two idiots, once we make it inside, leave the doors cracked,” as you spoke your voice got lower and lower, pursing your lips once the boys gave you an agreement.

Turning back around and walking closer to the main double doors, you could hear the soft snores of the men get louder and louder. The main two doors were wooden, you were certain they opened to a large empty area.

Slowly getting closer, you managed to make it directly next to the brunette before he began to stir, you froze in place, feeling fear creep up your spine, but his head fell to the side, hand coming up to rub at his nose before his movements settled down again.

You let out a silent sigh of relief, reaching your hands forward and grasping onto the handles, slowly turning them and pushing the doors open slowly, the hinges creaking loudly once or twice before going silent. You stood corrected, the doors opened up to a restaurant type area, a few tables and chairs being draped over with table clothes. There was a podium by the door, probably where a server stood to sea you. There was a hallway to your right and left, probably leading to bedrooms.

You glanced back at the boys and watched how the doors were left slightly cracked, giving them a nod and heading down the right hallway. It was the hallway that didn't have any windows, you assumed they’d put Yunho here so he wouldn't know where he was.

Stopping by the first of three doors, you grabbed the knob slowly. Turning it, only to find it locked. You grimace, if they were to keep Yunho here, of course they'd lock him up.

That meant you needed a key, you needed to find Jugeom.

You had already done that, peering in through the open window that faced the ocean. You had also noticed how he was awake, sitting on his bed while looking down at maps. You leaned your head forward and placed your ear against the door.

Changmin and Eunhyuk had taken to the two entrances of the hallway, eyes peering out and feet ready turn turn and rush back if one of them saw anybody.

You couldn't hear anything, not breathing, not rustling, nothing. It was dead silent and you breathed a small sigh of relief that the doors were so thin. Moving onto the middle door, you grabbed hold of the door knob slowly, turning it. You cheered internally when finding it wasn't locked, and pushed the door open softly, the hinges did not creak.

Walking in, you almost started to cry. Tears welled in your eyes, breath choking.

On the bed in the far corner, was Yunho. His body curled against the pink tinted sheets, hair matted with blood, hands and feet being tied together, that must have kept him from running. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his body only being covered by the pants and boots he put on so many days ago. There was an oil lamp still lit, giving off just enough light to see around. You brought a hand up to your mouth, keeping in the small whimper. He looked asleep, with his body slowly rising and falling with his breathing.

Picking up your pace towards him, you brought your hand down to touch his shoulder. His body shooting up, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher.

He froze when he saw you, and you took that time to give him a proper look over. His jaw was bruised, eyebrow cut along with his lip. Red marking covered his neck, his chest had a large cut across it. From the look of him, it made your stomach clench with dread and breath come out in short spurts.

When he finally regained himself, he reached as far as he could forward and grabbed onto your shirt, pulling you harshly forward. You did your best not to hurt him as you circled your arms around his shoulders, hugging him as tightly as you could. Tears fell freely down your cheeks, emotions bubbling to the surface quickly. You could feel his tears hit your neck, his hair covering his eyes.

“I knew you’d come for me,” he whispered, his voice so quiet and broken you almost didn't hear him. You smiled, pulling back to crash your lips against his. His lips were dry, but that didn't stop any of the love he felt for you to be shown through the kiss. You felt his hands grip at your shirt harder, a sigh escaping from both of you.

You heard a throat clear from behind you, turning harshly and snapping your hand down to your sword. Your eyes met with Changmin’s, his arms up in a surrender.

“Hey cap,” Changmin whispered, Yunho only nodded his head back, knowing that if he were to try and speak, his throat would be too dry to produce any words.

Changmin looked to you, “the suns almost fully over the horizon, it's time to go,” he rushed out, turning around and quietly walking down the hallway to tell the same thing to Eunhyuk.

You turned back to Yunho, taking a step back before unsheathing your sword. He knew what your plan was and held out his hands, pulling them as far apart as his strength would let him. You slipped the tip of the blade between the ropes, stepping to the side for an anchor and using a quick motion to easily cut his hands free. He pushed the now cut rope form his wrists, reaching down and pulling it away from his feet.

You chose not to sheath your sword, having a bad feeling about trying to leave with Yunho injured as badly as he was. You noticed the bruising on his rib cage when he stood, stomach lined with black and purple splotches. Taking a step forward and wrapping your arm around his waist, he holds onto his stomach with the other.

“Let's go home, Yun,” you said softly, walking out of the room quietly. Eunhyuk and Changmin were waiting at the end of the hallway, watching with worried eyes and sad smiles at the two of you.

Your small group began to walk out into the main room, the main doors still cracked just like you left them. The room was starting to brighten with the rising sun, the rays shining through the windows. Getting Yunho back to the ship seemed so close, you just had to pass through the main doors and down a block or two.

Suddenly, the main door were slammed shut, and a chuckle was heard from behind you. Your stomach dropping as you turned, Changmin and Eunhyuk unsheathing their swords.

“If you really thought you’d be able to get away that easily, you’d be mistaken,” Jugeom said, three of his men appearing from the shadows. You let go of Yunho, dropping your hand to your side. While your fingers slowly traced your gun, you spoke out, “We knew it wouldn't be easy, yet that didn’t stop us, now did it?” you managed to pull your gun from the holder silently, turning it so the handle brushed against Yunho’s fingers.

Jugeom kept talking though, his old eyes not being able to detect the transition you just made, “that boy belongs to be now, he gave himself to me,” he seethed, his hand reaching up and unsheathing his sword, his men followed. Eunhyuk and Changmin focused their attention on one crew member each, yet always managed to glance quickly back at you, waiting for your signal.

“He doesn't belong to anybody but himself,” you growled, rushing forward and lifting your sword.

Eunhyuk and Changmin took that as the signal, quickly raising their swords and rushing towards a crew member. Yunho stood, gun pointed at the last. His eyes holding a fire of pure rage, finger pressed unhesitatingly against the trigger. The man in front of him widened his eyes, beginning to drop his sword and raise his hands, but it was too late. Yunho pulled the trigger and he let out a painful scream, filling to the floor while holding his shoulder.

First it was the gunshot, then it was the sound of your sword hitting Jugeom’s. The blades cutting across each other once, before hitting twice. It was almost like a deadly dance, whoever misses a step, death for them. Jugeom’s sword was bigger than yours, but that just meant it was harder to use. While you were quick and nimble, cutting at his arms and body. He was slow and steady, only able to cut at the air around you when you were able to dodge his attack.

Yunho felt his legs give out then, the lack of food and water taking a toll on his body. His knees hit the floor first, and when he raised his gun back up at the man in front of him, his arm was too tired to take aim and fire. Then, as quick as a bee, Eunhyuk dashed in front of him and slid his sword across the man's chest, his shirt ripping and skin tearing under the blade. He yelled out again, his blood dripping down onto the wooden floors.

You were still fighting with Jugeom, his actions still going strong. You were becoming tired, getting a few cuts on your arms. You could feel your thighs go numb from having to push your body in different directions to dodge some of his fatal attacks, but he wasn't letting up at all. “You should’ve heard him cry out for you,” Jugeom seethed through gritted teeth. The remark made you chest tighten, your other hand coming up to hold the blade. You tried to stay focused, “shut your damn mouth,” you growled out, anger rising further in your chest at the sight of his damn smile.

“Oh, and you should've seen the blood,” you glared harshly, kicking your body into full gear. He was now the one to block your attacks, the both of you jumping and pushing tables and chairs around, “his blood was so red too-” That made you snap, a cry reigning from your lips as you kicked your leg up and into his side.

His body fell into a table then, the top breaking off. His body fell to the ground, white shirt tinted with blood from the cuts littering his body. You could hear Eunhyuk and Changmin behind you, swords meeting. You could also hear the cries form his men, their knees hitting the floor.

“I could kill you,” you said, fury laced deeply in your words. The sounds from behind you drawing down into small groans and whimpers from Jugeom’s wounded men.

The man in front of you only smiled, teeth on display. You brought your foot down harshly again, this time the toe of your boot came into contact with his face. Pulling it away, you saw the way his nose was turned the wrong way. How blood quickly spilled from it, his eyes still having that teasing look.

“Then do it, i won't stop you,” he said.

You brought your sword up then, but hesitated, remembering that if you killed this man, you’d be a murderer. You had never killed anybody before, you only injured them and left them for the government to let them be arrested. Yet, with the way he took Yunho, how he almost beat him to death, it made your chest fill with rage.

“You got in the damn way of my happiness, you vermin,” you said, bringing the sword down quickly. The blade impaled into his throat, his hands coming up and gripping around the blade, palms being sliced int he process. His eyes widened, the life slowly beginning to leave them. He choked out, blood spilling from his lips.

Pulling the blade, you cringed at the blood the dripped off the tip. When you looked back down at Jugeom, his eyes were lifeless, hands limp by his chest.

“I thought you said no killing,” You heard from behind you, looking towards Changmin, you glared at him.

“This was different, leave everybody else for the government,” you said, yet when you looked towards the kneeling Yunho you felt all the anger in your chest be replaced with worry. Sheathing your sword quickly and rushing over to him, you helped him up. He groaned at the pain that spread from his stomach, the large cut on his chest being split open from the sudden movements.

“We need to get back, you’re lucky there was nobody here, but,” Eunhyuk started, coming up to Yunho's other side and taking the gun from his grasp, throwing it to Changmin. He lifted Yunho's arm, draping it over his shoulder, “Chan’s gonna have a field day when we get back,” He finished.

Yunho smiled, trying to keep up with the quick footsteps as Changmin threw open the door. He lifted the gun in his hands, cocking it quickly and firing two shots in the two waiting crew boys who were asleep this morning. He shot them in the stomach, blood beginning to stain their shirts as they fell to the ground.

Some women on the streets screamed upon seeing you four rushing down the street, but none of you cared. Yunho did his best to keep up, but his feet slipped a few times, leaving a wince to cross his face from the pain that would bloom in his ankle at the feeling.

When the boat finally did come back into view, Yunho felt relief. He was finally home, with you and everybody on board.

“Chan!” You yelled out once you got close enough, seeing the man's head pop out, he did have a smile on his face, but it vanished once seeing the state Yunho was in. He rushed away, coming out a few seconds later with a pillow case type bag filled with all the types of bandages and medical items a doctor would love to have.

There were a few boys awake, but they were still downstairs in their room. Woohyuk and Minhyun came running right behind Chan, their hand coming up and stabilizing Yunho to the best of their abilities.

“Take him to the bedroom, i’ll help him the best i can,” Chan managed to get out, you quickly let go of Yunho, letting the other boys take him back into your bedroom. Yunho turned his head to look back at you, lips turning into a small smile before all the boys disappeared into the bedroom.

---

“(y/n),” You heard Chan call out from behind you, you spun around quickly. He looked tired, eyes lined with red. You glanced down to the boys, you were telling them a story about one of your childhood stories.

“Can i?” you said softly, with a smile Chan nodded. You took off in a rush towards your bedroom, knowing that Chan would stay and keep the small boys company. Minhyun was leaning against the wall outside of the door, giving you a small smile paired with a nod before opening the door for you.

It had been a couple hours since you brought Yunho back, the Aurora was back on the open ocean, heading in the direction of the island. You figured that with Yunho around the strange compass he left with you, and the maps, you’ll be able to head straight for the island.

“Hi baby,” he said, a smile gracing his beautiful face. He was tucked in nicely, his wrists and arms wrapped in bandages. His head had a bandage around it, but his lip was still cut. His jaw was still bruised, but that didn't stop him from smiling beautifully.

When hearing his voice, his pure voice. Not the one from the room, the one that sounded broken and fearful. You could feel the way your chest swelled with this bright light again, eyes brimming with tears again. It only increased when he reached his palm open. You rushed over to his side, interlacing your hand with his and bringing it to your lips for a kiss. He chuckled at that, pulling you forward and making you crash down on top of him.

Pulling away from him and lifting yourself up, you finally smiled at him. Even though your vision was blurred with tears, he loved your smile. He reached up, thumb wiping away the falling tears.

“Welcome home, my love,” you said softly, leaning down and capturing his lips in a chaste kiss.

“It feels good to be back, but i won't fully be back until i can lead again,” he said, helping you when you began to lean over him so you could lay down beside him. Your fingers were still interlocked.

“You’ll always be captain, just because you can't yell at people freely, does not change facts,” you said, your voice quiet. He hummed, leaning forward again and kissing you.

You didn't blame him for wanting to kiss you, you wanted to kiss him just as hard. You wanted nothing more than to lay down and kiss him until your lips were swollen and numb, but he needed rest, you knew he did. He pulled away from you with another sigh, his nose rubbing against yours.

“We’re heading towards the island, the boys are coming with us-”

“I know, Chan told me,” Yunho said softly, kissing the tip of your nose.

“You’re alright with it?” You said, slightly shocked that he would just agree so suddenly. He nodded his head, licking his lips.

“I don't want them to go somewhere they feel like they don't belong, and if i remember correctly, Chan also mentioned something about them wanting to stay. I don't mind, I think it'd be nice having them around-” he paused for a minute, collecting his thoughts while closing his eyes.

“You don't mind having kids run around?” You said, him nodding in response.

“I’ve already thought about, you know, our kids running around. I wouldn't mind having them here too,” he said softly, your heart warmed at the mention of your future kids. Yunho only mentioned kids with you once before and that was right before he became captain.

“And the island?” You said, chest already so full with happiness.

“It was my goal to get us there,” he said, and you furrowed your eyebrows suddenly. “Now it’s my goal to get everybody there.”

The sun had managed to hit the ocean just right, the reflection caused streaks of light to invade your room. It made Yunho look ethereal, like he was an angel sent down to love and cherish you and everybody around. It almost looked like a scene out of a fairy tale, the light shining into the room, making shadows more prominent, you and yunho curled up together on the bed whispering sweet nothings to each other. The day was spent with just you and him together, occasionally one of the boys would come and talk. Seonghwa stayed the longest, and the way Yunho and him spoke and looked at each other made your heart flutter. Mingi also stayed for a long time, Yunho and him made a connection rather quickly.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, making you open your eyes and lift your head from his chest.

It was now sunset, the sun casted beautiful colors into the bedroom. The boys were gone, probably helping Chan make dinner, or help Eunhyuk read maps. Yunho smiled at you, bringing his hand up and running his hand through your hair, stopping to cup your cheek.

“I love you,” he said softly, and you smiled back at him, reaching your hand up and lacing your fingers together.

“I love you too,” You replied, the sweet warm feeling returning to your chest.

Stay Tune for the next one!

Next: On my fingertips (Wooyoung)

ending note: This is my very first story I’ve every done, so im sorry if it isn’t that great, but I’m proud of it no matter what.

My asks are open 24/7

#ateez #yunho imagines #ateez imagines #san imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fics #ateez fluff #kpop #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 5 years ago

Text

Pursue - Jim Hopper x Reader

Summary: How far can you push Hopper before he loses control?

Characters: Jim Hopper x female reader

Words: 5,310

Warnings: smut, language/dirty talk, light bondage, throat fucking, praise kink, implied age gap, I think that’s it? This is dirty smut so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.

Author’s Note: This was written for sherrybaby14′s Fall Into You writing challenge. My prompt was to use the line “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

Pursue

Grinning with amusement, you twirled the phone cord around your finger and tried to sound innocent, though you both knew it was all an act. The mission was to drive Chief Jim Hopper mad with lust, and so far, your plan was working brilliantly.

You had been teasing him all day, starting in the morning when he had received a call right as he got to the office. You could practically feel his surprise at your bold words, detailing to him how you were still laying naked in bed and wrapped up in sheets that smelled like him, wishing he was there to satisfy the lust you were currently feeling. He had growled out that you were going to regret teasing him when he got off work, and when you baited him further by saying that maybe you should just pull out your vibrator and pretend it was him, he gave a strangled groan and hung up. You had called about an hour later, and when Flo answered and said Hopper was busy, you asked her to relay the vague message of, “I took care of the situation myself.”

It was now his lunch break, and you had, of course, taken advantage of the opportunity to call again, knowing that he couldn’t resist his curiosity about what else you’d have to say. You mentioned buying some new lingerie, a black lace teddy that clung to your curves like a second skin.

“The neckline goes down a bit too low, so that I’m almost popping out. And I had no idea that the back would be a thong, but oh well, too late to return it now,” you said with an exaggerated sigh, listening intently for his response.

Satisfaction darted through you at the unmistakable sound of increased breathing on the other end; you could clearly envision him in his office chair, leaning forward over his desk with a death grip on the receiver. The thought of him sitting there with a hard-on and trying to imagine what you looked like only served to ramp up your own desire, thighs squeezing together where you lounged on the couch in the aforementioned lingerie.

“Don’t you want to know why it’s too late to return it?” you pouted, biting your lip to stifle a giggle.

“Why?” His voice was raspy with desire, making it sound so low and commanding that you shivered.

Giving a slow grin, you whispered, “Because I’ve been wearing it all morning, so it’s soaked from me thinking about you.”

Dead silence. He must be holding his breath, body taut and unmoving. You knew because you were doing the same thing. Then, the smallest click...and the following silence lasted only a few seconds before the beep of a disconnected line sounded.

He hung up?!

Annoyed at the thought of him ending the conversation right as it was getting good, you redialed the station. Poor Flo was probably getting sick of transferring your calls to Hopper’s office, but she did so anyways. After the dozenth ring, it was obvious he had either left or was purposely ignoring you. Hanging up the phone, you puffed out an irritated breath that the game was over...for now.

Getting up from the couch, you decided to make a sandwich for lunch. You grabbed your purple house robe and put it on over the black teddy before going to the kitchen to hunt down some lunch meat and bread. You really should go to the store later, seeing as how Hopper’s frequent visits had dwindled the fridge down to practically nothing. You and the Chief had officially started dating about six months ago, but it was only the past month or so that he seemed to spend more nights here than at his cabin.

Getting the tall, brooding man’s attention hadn’t been an easy feat. It had taken weeks of you finding various excuses to stop by the station for him to finally get the hint. He later admitted that his cop buddies had all but begged him to ask you out, and that he genuinely hadn’t thought you’d be interested, the silly man. Usually you preferred playing a little harder to get, but from the moment you moved into Hawkins and met Chief Jim Hopper, you wanted him. And if you had to act a little too obviously interested to get his attention, then so be it. Otherwise he’d have never gotten a clue, since he’d had some warped idea that you were too young and pretty for him.

But once you had gone on that first date, the rest was history. It had been hot and heavy from the start, especially after he’d asked what you were doing at Enzo’s with him and not someone younger and more carefree, someone who had their life together. You had smiled, grabbed his hand where it laid on the table, and told him that none of the youthful boys around town made you wet with just one glance, and none of them made you feel both recklessly turned on and completely safe at the same time. But he did.

He had practically eye-fucked you for the rest of dinner, and you barely made it back to your place in one piece, Hopper unable to keep both hands on the wheel during the drive there. He had fucked you up against the wall right inside the front door, and it would be a miracle if the neighbors hadn’t heard your screams of ecstasy.

The chemistry between the two of you was off the charts, and it was by far the best sex you’d ever had. Just the thought of the things Hopper could do, of the reactions he was able to elicit from your body, had a shiver going down your spine as you cut the sandwich in half and took a bite.

You had just finished chewing and swallowing when there came the unmistakable sound of tires screeching recklessly into the driveway, followed shortly by the loud slam of a car door. Putting down the sandwich, you walked from the kitchen into the living room. Right as you were starting to feel a bit alarmed, someone came up the front steps and crossed the porch, and your worry instantly turned into excitement. Those heavy, booted steps could only belong to one man...

Standing there with bated breath, you heard the key you had recently given him turn in the lock, anticipation making your thighs clench. The door swung open and there he was, filling the entrance with his broad shoulders, gaze immediately zeroing in on where you stood in the middle of the living room. He walked inside, the door slamming slightly as he forcibly closed it with his boot. Dressed in his snug Chief’s uniform, your mouth watered at the sight of all that sexually frustrated man focused in your direction. His eyes trailed down over your form, nostrils flaring as he realized that all that stood between him and the lingerie you had teased him about was a thin layer of purple terry cloth.

He took a step forward, but then halted when you danced backwards two steps. Brows furrowing, he took another step to test the waters, and sure enough, you backed up again. A teasing smile and cocked eyebrow signaled your enjoyment of the game, though Hopper looked far from amused. He suddenly came at you with a growl, but before he could get within arm’s reach, you turned with a squeal and fled.

Adrenaline, fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement, pumped through your veins as bare feet darted from the living room and across cool kitchen tiles. The roles were suddenly switched from earlier, and the pursuer was now the prey.

Skidding around the counter island in the kitchen, you grabbed the edge of the surface to help halt your forward movement, breath accelerated as you saw Hopper storm into the room only a second later. He eyed the counter with disdain then looked up and locked eyes with you, the intensity in his stare causing hair to stand up on the back of your neck.

“You’re only digging yourself a deeper grave, sweetheart,” came the gruff warning.

“That so?” you taunted back. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me then...if you think you’re quick enough, old man.”

You saw the flash of anger in his eyes at your jab a split second before he charged around the counter on your right. Almost falling for it, you started to run to the left before realizing at the last second that he had only feinted going one way before abruptly turning around and charging the opposite. His intent was to cut you off before you could make it out of the kitchen, but you ruined the plan by skidding to a stop on the tiles. He was almost within arm’s reach when you flew back the other way, careening around the same side of the counter you had entered from and making a break across the kitchen back towards the living room.

Heart in your throat, you sprinted through the lower level of the house, the bottom of the robe flapping out behind you like a beacon. There was a dart of euphoric satisfaction that you had thwarted him, as you beelined straight for the staircase with the goal of making it to the bedroom and closing the door. If you could get it locked in time, then it would be beyond entertaining to see what his next move would be. Images of him begging you to open the door and let him in flashed through your mind, making you smirk with sadistic glee. However, you should’ve known he wouldn’t let you get that far. Despite his size, Hopper was swifter and lighter on his feet than most people would suspect. In fact, you’d later look back and wonder if he had purposely let you think you were winning, and had actually been toying with you the entire time before waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and capture his prey.

You hadn’t even heard him gaining on you, so it came as a surprise when you only made it halfway up the staircase before strong fingers wrapped around your ankle, causing you to fall to your knees on the carpeted steps with a cry. Refusing to admit defeat, you continued to try and move forward, leg kicking against his grip, but he was unrelenting. You felt him come up the steps behind you, the presence of his large body hovering expectantly, waiting for you to turn over and accept your fate.

“You should know better than to run from the police, baby,” he drawled in a raspy, lust-ridden voice.

A shudder of arousal went through you at the words, and you slowly turned over onto your back, his hand still holding your ankle captive. He was looming over you, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the world. Looking up at his face, you saw that his pupils were blown wide with lust. The sight caused a smirk to twitch at the edges of your lips, satisfied to know that you weren’t the only one physically affected by all of this.

“You think this is funny?” he growled menacingly, leaning down until his face was inches from your own. “Did you enjoy making me chase after you? Perhaps I should show you what happens to bad little girls who play games with the chief.”

With that, his grip left your ankle as he all but tore into the tie of your robe, flinging it open and off your body. A groan of masculine arousal accompanied his hand diving between your legs, and you gave a soft cry at the feel of his fingers pressing into the soaked crotch of the teddy.

“You weren’t lying about not being able to return this, baby. Even if the wetness wasn’t enough evidence, they’d be able to smell your cunt on it from a mile away.”

Gasping at his filthy words, you were so focused on arching up into his fingers for more friction that you barely registered the sound of clinking metal. The realization of what he was doing hit a second too late, as Hopper lifted his hand from your crotch, grabbed both your wrists, and had the handcuffs clicked into place in the span of mere seconds. Even though it was futile, you still pulled at the cuffs, which only served to press the unrelenting metal into your flesh. You gave a huff of frustration that instantly turned into a squeal of surprise when he picked you up off the steps and threw you over his shoulder. Desire swirled in you at how his strength made you feel light as a feather, while the world also swirled as your head was suddenly upside down and staring at an absolutely delectable ass in tight, beige pants.

Your own ass must’ve also been a distraction, as a warm hand came down with a smack on your left buttock that was bared by the thong of the teddy. He gave a second smack to the other cheek, causing you to groan and clench your fingers into the back of his shirt as he started up the rest of the steps and down the hall towards the bedroom.

Once inside the room, he tossed you down onto the bed, back bouncing on the mattress from the force. Immediately trying to roll over and away, unwilling to admit defeat, your escape plan was cut short before it even began. His unyielding body came down over your own, thick thighs straddling your waist as he gathered your cuffed wrists in one hand and pinned them to the mattress above your head.

Leaning down, he took your earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “Ah ah, baby. None of that. I caught you fair and square, and now you’re mine.”

Shivering at both the feel of his mouth and the words coming out of it, your body squirmed underneath him with anticipation, declaring its surrender without your brain’s permission. Moving down to your neck, he sucked the flesh roughly, bringing blood to the surface so that you’d carry the mark of his possession around for days to come.

The hand not holding your wrists captive ran down over your side, mapping the curves of your waist and thigh, his calloused fingers causing goosebumps to erupt on your flesh. He continued to skim past the places that wanted his touch the most, tracing fingertips lightly along the sides of your breasts in the black lace and along your lower stomach, before changing direction up and away from the part of you that wept for him. He caressed you slowly until every nerve ending was straining for him to do more, to give your body what it was craving. In response to your panting whimpers, he brought his mouth up to hover mere centimeters from your own, teasing you with his warm breaths.

“What wrong, baby? I thought you enjoyed playing games?”

Damn him to hell. You had no clue how he still had any control left, but apparently he was keeping a tight rein on his desire until he paid you back in full for your earlier teasing. You had meant to drive him mad with lust and be in control of the situation, but had apparently underestimated Hopper’s revenge tactics, which left you as the one panting and begging for more.

Giving a groan of frustration when both large hands lifted from your body, you felt cold and bereft. Frustration turned to excitement at the sight of his fingers undoing the front of his pants, and you subconsciously licked your lips at the sight. Giving a deep chuckle at the motion, Hopper rasped, “Yea, you got the right idea, baby.”

When the pants were unbuttoned and unzipped, he reached inside and pulled out his thick cock, the tip already weeping with desire. Unable to help the impulse, you lowered your hands towards it like a moth to flame, but they were grabbed roughly before you could even make contact. Shoving them back into the mattress above your head as he once more covered your body with his own, he leaned down and growled, “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

A raspy moan and frantic nod was your response, the teddy becoming even more soaked at his words. A slow, arrogant smirk curled his lips; Hopper knew how much you got off on being praised, and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage.

“Then do as I say and keep your hands just like that, sweetheart. If you don’t move them while I fuck your pretty little mouth, then maybe I’ll let you come.”

Another panting nod was all you could manage at the moment, your gaze fixated on the cock bobbing closer to you as he moved up the bed until he was straddling your shoulders. Grabbing his dick with one large hand, he gave a few slow, rolling strokes before placing the tip against your lips.

“Open up, baby. Time to show the chief what a good little cock sucker you are.”

You obeyed instantly, lips parting on a moan as Hopper fed you his cock. He started off slow and easy, barely moving his hips, which automatically motivated you to take control. Moving your head back and forth, you took him in with no added assistance. Grunts of pleasure fell from above as your tongue swirled around his tip and mouth worked his length. Looking upwards, you felt another gush of wetness between your legs at the sight of Hopper staring back down at you, heavy-lidded gaze focused on the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips.

Suddenly, he went from passive recipient to once more being in charge. His hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled forward while thrusting his hips. The movement forced his cock down your throat until his balls hit your chin and dark pubic hair tickled your nose, a strangled, fuck coming from the man above you. Eyes instantly watering as you gave a slight gag, you looked up at Hopper pleadingly, even though you knew the sadistic part of him loved watching you struggle to take him.

It was all you could do to keep your wrists in place and not try to buck him off, but then his other hand came down and gently cupped your face as he rumbled, “What a good girl. You look so fucking sexy while choking on my dick, baby. I can’t decide if I want to come down your throat or wait until I get in that beautiful pussy.”

His words caused your throat to instantly relax and loosen in submission, while your pussy clenched tightly with jealousy that it wasn’t the one being currently filled. As if he knew your body’s new dilemma, he reached back and down between your legs, which instantly spread to make room for his hand. Shoving the soaked fabric to the side, he ran a thick finger down your slit, causing your hips to buck and throat to moan around his cock, the vibrations wringing a strangled snarl from his lips. Two fingers easily slid inside your dripping cunt, his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of your arousal gushing around his digits. You felt dizzy, both with desire and the lack of oxygen, as you laid there with his dick down your throat, clenching on his fingers. Both your mouth and pussy provided him with a warm, wet welcome and begged for more, the two of you groaning simultaneously at the sensations.

Disappointment and oxygen hit your lungs when he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva hanging precariously between the tip of his cock and your lower lip before it broke and fell. Giving a cough and taking a deep gasp of air, you felt his fingers also leave your body as he reached into the front pocket of his undone pants and pulled out a set of keys. It was obvious by his pulsing, reddened cock that he had been close to coming but decided to wait until he got between your thighs, a decision which made your cunt pulse in eager anticipation.

Jingling the keys teasingly between his fingers, he said, “You still going to be a good girl if I take these off?”

Nodding frantically, you arched your body underneath him, panting, “Yes! Please, Jim!”

Satisfied with your submissive response, he leaned up over your head, and you felt the cuffs fall away as he unlocked them. He set both cuffs and keys on the bedside table before taking a moment to bring your wrists down in front of his face, rubbing them gently while inspecting to make sure there hadn’t been any damage done. The gesture sent a flutter through your chest; even during intense moments such as this, Hopper’s protectiveness still reared its head, reinforcing that you were always safe with him.

Once satisfied with his inspection, he moved off the bed before turning to fix desire-blazed eyes on you, thighs spread and chest panting as you awaited his next move. Without hesitation, he reached down and shoved the teddy’s straps off your shoulders, roughly peeling it down your body as if he were a kid tearing into a long-awaited present on Christmas morning. The fabric scraped down over your rock-hard nipples, causing a faint shiver, then was pulled off your hips and legs so that the cool air of the room hit your desire-glazed cunt.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Smiling at his praise, you arched your back a little and cupped both hands under your breasts, offering yourself up to him.

The animalistic sound that came from his throat sent chills down your spine, and he wasted no time in tearing off his uniform. You watched greedily as more and more skin was revealed, biting your bottom lip to muffle the moan of arousal when he stood naked and proud. You got a fine view of his muscled ass when he walked across the room to his chest of drawers, yanking the top one open and pulling out a condom. He came back but stopped at the foot of the bed, his sharp gaze searing a path down the length of your curves before lifting and locking onto your own.

“Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for the chief, baby,” he commanded in his best cop voice while tearing open the condom and rolling it down his throbbing cock.

Body begging to be filled, you immediately obeyed, flipping onto all fours on the mattress, ass up and legs widely parted in presentation. Unable to resist a little teasing, you slowly rocked your hips back and forth while looking over your shoulder at him with a knowing grin. A jolt of excitement went through you at the expletive hissed from a clenched jaw, his predatory gaze raking downward, greedily taking in the way you were spread out on the bed and waiting for him. He had frozen for a moment with your movement, but quickly recovered and moved forward onto the bed at record speed, his body radiating heat and hunger as it came up behind your own.

His rough hands trailed down over your sides while his cock bumped against your inner thighs, causing a shudder to ripple along your flesh. Arching back into him, you let out a whine of impatience, tired of the games and just wanting him to fuck you.

Knowing you were getting desperate, he leaned down so his front fit to your back with mouth at your nape, as he whispered, “You ready for my cock, sweetheart?”

His words stole your breath, so that you could only nod frantically before pulling enough oxygen to breath out a shaky, “Yes.”

Unable to deny both of you any longer, he reached down with one hand to line his dick up at your entrance, and slowly pushed inside. Mewling with pleasure, you tried to widen your thighs even more on the mattress and gripped the bedspread as your walls stretched around his thick length. Fuck, but he was big, and your body never failed to remind you of that. No matter how many times the two of you had sex, that slight burn of possession always made itself known during that first thrust.

Once he was balls deep, he went still for a few long moments, both of you savoring the feel of him deep inside. Then he planted his left hand down on top of your own on the mattress, the gesture dominant and possessive, yet also reassuring, while his other hand snaked around the front of your waist and dove between your open thighs. The tips of his fingers unerringly found your swollen clit, zeroing in with tight, fast circles in the rhythm needed to make you moan and instinctively push back into him. If there was one thing Hopper had learned over the past months of dating, it was exactly how to touch you in a way guaranteed to make come.

And if there was one thing you had learned about Hopper, it was that dirty talk affected him just as much as it did you.

“You can go again later, right?” you tried to sound seductive and saucy, but it came out as more of a breathless whimper.

“Was that an insult, little girl? You think I can’t keep up with you?” he growled in your ear, fingers speeding up into even faster and tighter circles on your bundle of nerves.

Shaking your head, you gasped, “I just really...w-want…I want to...”

“Want to what?”

Almost convulsing at the carnal, deep command in his voice, you panted loudly for a few moments before answering. “I want to finish what I started...suck you off. I want to feel you come in my mouth.” The words were puffed out in a rush at the end, head dropping forward from the overwhelming pleasure of his body over and in yours.

“Fuck,” was the only verbal response, followed by the hand on top of yours lifting to grip tightly onto your hip. His thrusts increased until you had to clench the bedspread for dear life to keep from being forced face-first into the headboard.

Even though it was usually him using filthy words to take control, to make you beg and come, the idea of turning the tables caused more wetness to run down your thighs. He might be dominating your body right now, but you had the key to dominating his mind.

“Do you want that? Me taking your cock in my mouth, deep down my throat.”

“Sweetheart…” he groaned warningly, his hips stuttering out of rhythm for a moment as he fought off his orgasm. The fingers at your hip dug in painfully as he jackhammered into you, while his other hand kept its punishing rhythm on your clit. Toes curling, you could feel him start to lose his iron-tight control, and fuck if that didn’t amp your own arousal up to new heights.

“I want it...I want to suck your dick and...swallow every drop of your cum,” you gasped between heaving breaths.

“Jesus fuck!” he cried, and a dart of triumph went through you as he upped his movements in a way that was pure carnal instinct, his control flying out the window and body taking over. Cock pounding so hard that his balls slapped your clit with each thrust, the wet sounds coming from your bodies was so obscenely erotic that you could only moan in response and hold on. The coil drew tighter until you were unable to speak even if you wanted to, knuckles turning white and every muscle in your body tensed as you hurtled towards the peak.

With an animalistic groan, Hopper went over the edge, his large body shaking behind yours as the throes of ecstasy hit him. Not wanting to leave you behind, he kept thrusting, trying to drag you down with him. When his hand lifted away for a split second, only to then come down hard in a slap directed perfectly on your throbbing clit, you exploded. Sparks of pleasure radiated through your entire body, making your back arch and cunt pulse as you wordlessly cried out Hopper’s name like a litany.

It took a while to come down from the high, both your bodies shuddering against one another with aftershocks. Giving a whimper when his now-limp cock left your body, you collapsed onto your side at the same time he also rolled onto the bed. Snuggling up behind you, his body spooned along your own so you could still feel his chest rapidly rising and falling, his breaths loudly puffed out against the back of your neck and causing goosebumps on your sweat-dampened flesh.

You laid there in silence for a couple minutes, just soaking in the moment and allowing your heart rates to slow down to a more normal rhythm. Rolling over to face Hopper, you ran soothing fingers over his chest and looked up at him, happy to see his usual brooding expression had relaxed and the usual lines of tension he carried in his face and shoulders had eased.

“So?” you asked expectantly, trying not to grin when his eyebrows raised in question.

“So, what?” he grumbled, voice already taking on a sleepy quality that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.

“So...was I a good girl? Or do I need to try again?”

His eyes, which had been drifting shut, shot back open and locked onto yours. He studied you intently, cop face firmly in place. “Ma’am, are you purposely trying to kill me? Because murdering a police officer is a serious offense.”

Giggling with delight, which made his own lips curl upwards at the edges, you leaned in and whispered against his lips, “Even more serious than running from said police officer?”

Closing the distance so that his mouth covered your own, he kissed you breathless before pulling back and murmuring, “They’re both serious, and you’ll be punished accordingly once I get feeling back in my legs.”

Smiling, you traced fingers down along the side of his stubbled cheek and across his strong jaw. “I think it was only fair, considering.”

“Hmm?” was the rumbled response, his eyes once again closed.

“I just figured that after all the pursuing I did in the beginning to get your attention, it was about time you were the one who had to chase me.”

Groaning in exasperation, he wrapped large arms around your waist and pulled you in close, body pressed full-length against his own. “You and the boys at the station are never going to move on and let me live that down, are you?” This was murmured in a low tone that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer, and you internally preened that he was so worn out.

Since it was obvious he didn’t plan on returning to work anytime soon, you laid your head on the pillow next to his with a contented sigh. A quick nap couldn’t hurt before you roused him for round two and made good on your dirty words from earlier. You could hardly wait to try and make him lose control again, and maybe you could even sneak those handcuffs back in somehow.

A soft snore broke the silence, Hopper unable to stay conscious long enough to finish the teasing conversation. However, knowing he was asleep made you bold enough to answer his question in a more honest way, the words a whispered confession of commitment.

“If it means more afternoons like this, then no, I won’t move on...ever.”

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arsnovacadenza · 4 years ago

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Jeanpoleon fic- Hope is a Dish too Soon Finished

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Jean, Napoleon, Sebastian, Yukari (MC), mentions of Mozart

Pairings: Jean x Napoleon, Mozart x MC (minor)

Rating: G (can be read as pre-slash)

Word count: 2756

It had been well past midnight when Yukari finally left Mozart's music room. The man had kept her after dinner, saying 'the quill would only feel inspired enough to move if Yukari was around' or 'no notes would come to him if Yukari didn't call upon them".

She chuckled fondly every time she recalled Mozart speaking those exact words without so much as an exaggeration in his voice.

Although, Yukari did dread having to walk down the long hallways this late. With no lamp to guide her, there was only the moonlight illuminating the path ahead. It was eerie, vampires lurking around in the shadows or no.

But Yukari had full trust in the residents, now that she's become a member of their eccentric clan. Even Arthur was at least respectful to leave her alone (maybe it was because of Mozart's protection, but who knew).

Yukari tried her best to distract herself from the unsettling surroundings. Failing to shake off her trepidation, she broke into a small run.

Of course, sprinting while closing your eyes was never a good idea, and it didn't take long before she was knocked back by a sturdier body, one that she didn't notice was advancing towards her in the darkness. "Ow, ow," she stumbled back before focusing her sight on the other person. "I'm sorry! Are you hurt?"

Greeting her back, however, was the haggard face of a specter. The figure appeared gaunt, looming over Yukari with a hollow eye and what looked like a hole on the other side of its head. She immediately yelped.

"Eeep!" Where's Mozart? Where is he when you need him the most?!

Yukari cautiously watched the strange creature before her, which seemed to be coming to its senses.

"Oh," a deep voice reverberated. "It's you, Mademoiselle."

It was a voice Yukari knew so well. "Jean? I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?" She fussed, despite knowing that nothing could injure the stout former soldier.

But Jean just blinked vacantly at her, and without a word, gently shoved her to the side. The man went his way, visibly staggering despite going in a straight line.

Yukari stared at the ghost’s back as it disappeared into obscurity.

"And just like that, he glided out of sight! He looked, well, he looked dead! I mean, I know he's undead, but—"

Yukari had to pause when Napoleon interrupted her with a loud snort.

Sebastian regarded him with an uncharacteristically stern look. "With all due respect, Monsieur Napoleon, this is an especially concerning matter."

The addressed man held down his laughter immediately. "Forgive me," he changed into a grave expression. "But, Sebastian, you know how he likes to go down the cellars for some Rouge. At least we know he's not starving himself this time."

"Although, to be completely honest," he added. "I'd been momentarily afraid that he'd attack and bite Yukari out of thirst, but I'm glad he didn't. In any case, I apologize on his behalf." He bowed his head slightly towards her.

"No! No!" Yukari interjected, "It was also my fault for not looking where I was heading! But, the point is, I was concerned because he seemed really out of it. I thought the way he moved was sluggish. At least, he seemed very different from the Jean that likes to join Mozart and me, or the Jean I see in the stables with you, Napoleon. I don't know, can vampires get sick?"

Sebastian nodded. "Correct. Even lesser vampires can experience physical ailment from time to time. And indeed, Monsieur Jean, in my observation, is likely in....less than ideal health."

He moved towards the shelf to align some Blanc decanters. "It's as Monsieur Napoleon says, his intake of Rouge and Blanc has so far been stable. But lately, I've been retrieving his meal trays to find most of them left uneaten."

He looked towards Yukari with a smile. "It was disheartening, considering his appetite had gotten better since you began helping out in the kitchen."

"Eheheheh, not really! I only repeat what you've taught me, Sebastian!" She chuckled as a blush spread across her cheeks. "I mean, I do admit I'm a bit proud of myself for mastering French cuisine one dish at a time. But, I don't think I can hold a candle to Napoleon here."

"You flatter me, Yukari." The emperor smirked. "Unfortunately, he rarely ever leaves his tower, much less come down to the kitchen when I'm cooking."

"Still, it bothers me that he hasn't been attending our sparring seasons lately," Napoleon examined the knife he was holding in contemplation. "Yukari, has he been visiting Mozart lately?"

The girl shook her head. "No. Mozart seems bothered about it as much as you do."

Sebastian chimed in, "Now that you mentioned it, this morning Herr Mozart himself asked me whether I'd seen Monsieur Jean lately. As far as I know, Monsieur Jean only comes down to the stables to take his horse out into town.”

"Trying to manage his weapons shop without help from Mozart?" Napoleon asked humorlessly. "I can't let this continue."

He strode towards the kitchen door. "Sebastian, come help me in the library after finishing your work. Yukari, do you mind if I borrow him later?"

"Oh, no! He's all yours!" Yukari eyed Sebastian, who was grinning discreetly. "Are you planning on doing something?"

“I am.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Just you wait.”

Ages ago, Jean would have wandered the brightly lit halls early in the evening, spooking everybody he reached out to like a man in a desert aching for water.

Right now, however, the pitch darkness made it easier for his nightly strolls to the cellar, where he'd empty vials of Rouge before returning to his cot. Without anybody finding out.

But he did bump into Mozart's lover, whom he startled as much as she did him. This time, he'd have to proceed more carefully, or he'd run to others like Sebastian —or even worse, Leonardo.

He'd caught wind of Isaac barging into the kitchen and drinking every single bottle of Rouge on the shelf. Not only was Jean trying to avoid needless company, but he also wanted to prevent awkward encounters the morning after.

His frame cast shadows on the wine-colored carpeting, which now looked blue under the moonlight.

Within this condemned body is a ghost longing to be erased from this undesiring world.

So lost was Jean in thought that he wasn't aware of a hand that gently pushed against his chest to stop him.

Napoleon smiled upon gazing into the (sadly devoid) eye of his quarry.

"Caught you," he spoke softly. "Come with me. This is what you get for missing our training sessions."

Wordlessly and without a fight, Jean allowed the former emperor to pull him by his wrist.

So thin. Napoleon contemplated. My judgment was correct.

Jean followed Napoleon into the warmly illuminated kitchen, where a rich, meaty scent greeted him upon entering. He spotted an earthenware pot sitting on the stove.

"Come over here, Jean," Napoleon had already pulled a chair at the table where he and Isaac (and sometimes Sebastian and Yukari) gathered every time he made a dish.

Jean only looked at the table, then back at Napoleon's face.

The emperor laughed, his voice akin to the ringing of bells in the otherwise silent kitchen. "Why look at me like that? Come on, let's get you to your seat."

Jean allowed the other Frenchman to take his arm gingerly and lead him around the table. After making sure that (the still dazed) Jean is comfortable in his seat, Napoleon took off his cape and draped it on the opposite chair. "Wait there. I'll join you in a minute,"

Jean quietly watched the back of Napoleon's white shirt as he moved about by the stove, scooping and pouring its content into a smaller bowl.

Why is he doing this?

Why...for me?

Napoleon turned, carrying the bowl and placing it on the table. He pushed it closer towards Jean until the steam rose in front of his face.

Jean inspected the surface of the soup. He could make out carrots, cabbages, potatoes, chunks of turnip, and what seemed to be pork.

The scent was a familiar one.

Seeing that Jean still didn't move to pick up the spoon that he had set, Napoleon called him out. "What's wrong?"

Jean averted his eye from the dish and looked down at his lap instead. "Where's yours?"

"Huh?"

"Shouldn't you have some yourself before offering them to me?"

Napoleon waved away the question with a smirk. "Oh, this is an experiment I've always wanted to try. I won't feel confident unless you test it for me."

Why me? "This is Potée Lorraine."

Napoleon nodded (somewhat too enthusiastically to Jean's liking), "It is. What about it?"

"It should be... never mind." Jean wanted to say: It should be a simple recipe. A man as capable of you can't possibly spoil it even if you try.

But Jean knew better than to dishearten a friend over a bad mood. His body might have been yearning for blood, but his senses were now urging him to indulge him something else.

For once, he didn't object to the idea of satisfying his (real and very human) hunger.

He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the edge of the bowl, picking up some bite-sized carrots and meat (Napoleon was always considerate, right down to the smallest things). When he slowly lifted the spoon towards his face, his heightened sense of smell was immediately overwhelmed by the fragrance.

Eventually, Jean blew at the spoon and gave himself a taste. The broth slid easily down his throat.

Napoleon watched him intently as Jean closed his eyes, seemingly trying to decipher what he'd just eaten. "Don't stop, Jean. I still have enough for both of us. And more.”

Obediently, the soldier went for another scoop. And then another, and another. With every gulp, Napoleon could see the color returning to his moon-pale skin.

In the middle of working through his soup, however, Jean lifted his face with a fully open eye.

"What is this?"

After uttering the short (but significant, at least to Napoleon's ears) question, Jean resumed devouring the entire soup.

Noticing the quiet hum of life returning to Jean's body, the former emperor leaned back in contentment.

Ah, this is why I cook for others.

It was always an encouraging sight, seeing Isaac gasp in awe at a Dijon chicken sandwich after a full day of overworking his brain. There was Sebastian's appreciation as a piece of a cara-age cured his homesickness.

Yukari, too, always complimented his macarons, but it was the sight of her delightfully nibbling away at the sweets that rewarded him more. He couldn't even stop himself from smiling too when Dazai remarked fondly on his successful recreation of tofu miso.

But this? This was another scene entirely.

Napoleon wasn't just discovering another side of Jean he'd always been longing to see, he was also expelling the toxicity that plagued the beautiful soldier from head to toe. Gone was the sullen and thirst in his eyes, replaced by a spark that got brighter and brighter every time Jean took another bite of the hearty meal.

The man could picture ghost-like smog pouring out of every part in Jean's body, eventually dissipating into the air. The humble Potée Lorraine didn't just serve to neutralize poison, but it also exorcised Jean's demons.

At least for now.

Jean dropped the spoon inside the bowl with a loud clunk and leaned back on the chair. His (now glove-less) hands moved to unbutton the top of his overcoat, showing off a patch of healthy, flustered skin underneath.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Napoleon finally saw Jean sweating and taking in deep breaths, as he always did every time they finished sparring.

"It was good," Jean spoke, his head still tilted towards the ceiling. "Hit the spot, you might say."

Napoleon chuckled and pulled up a chair right next to Jean. "My hypothesis was correct," he dabbed Jean's moist forehead with a napkin. "You really were starving, but not for blood."

Jean peered at him through a half-lidded eye. The light that the Potée Lorraine restored was swimming in it. "What do you mean?"

The emperor lifted the eyepatched soldier's wrist and showed it to him. "If you only needed blood for nourishment, your wrist shouldn't stay this small after drinking all that Rouge. What's more," He continued, still not dropping Jean's wrist. "The unusual paleness of your skin, your sunken eyes, and lack of enthusiasm for daily activities clued me in on your condition."

Napoleon finally settled the hand on Jean's lap. "As the Chinese saying goes, food is medicine. It can't cure your entire body in a short time, but it should lighten your heart enough to make you want to feel better."

"It's not much, offering you comfort food. I don't even know what your favorite food is. But Potée Lorraine was a popular dish in my time, and then I discovered that it had been around during your period too." He then smiled apologetically, "Forgive me if I didn't get the recipe correctly, though. You were born in Lorraine, so of course, you'd be more familiar with the original recipe."

"No," Jean shot back with a surprising amount of passion in his voice. "It was better. Much better than the elaborate dishes le Comte wants us to eat."

Napoleon couldn't quite comprehend what le Comte had to do with this. "Come again? "

Jean sighed, his previously serene visage changing into a regretful one. "I don't mean to undermine both Yukari and Sebastian's work. They did well, producing wonderful dishes that everybody enjoys."

"But?"

"But my body can no longer take it," Jean toyed with the edges of his cape. "I... My body rejected them. I felt repulsed at ingesting such luxurious food that I didn't deserve. I tried staving off my additional starvation with more Blanc, but it hasn't gone too well."

"In the end, I had no choice but to consume Rouge. With Yukari in the mansion, I can't risk attacking and drinking blood directly from a human. It was either forcing myself to drink that wretched thing or cause trouble."

Jean took a swig of the clear water that was offered to him by Napoleon. After wiping his mouth, he resumed. "Yet, no matter how much I drink every night , my hunger persists. I’ve been feeling immense guilt at the thought of Sebastian worrying over a depleting Rouge supply."

"But your simple dish," Jean lifted the bowl close to his face to inhale the lingering aroma. "Somehow melted away this stubborn craving of mine. As expected of our Napoleon."

The red that tinted Jean's cheeks as he spoke the words made Napoleon unknowingly blush too.

"W-well," Napoleon's embarrassment was still palpable. "There's more to your reluctance to eat extravagant dishes. I've been checking the menu, and it seems your body has been rejecting all that oil and fat. However,"

He put a hand on Jean's shoulder and gripped it. "Even you deserve to nourish yourself once in a while. I can talk at length about the finer points of French food, but we can all agree on one thing: whether it's a peasant dish or haute cuisine, good food is still good food."

"It seems that the stew hit more than just your taste buds," His finger jabbed at Jean's heart. "It probably went straight to your homesickness too. I learned that this dish originated from Lorraine, where Domrémy is—'

Napoleon felt Jean's cold fingers enveloping his.

"Please, no," Jean whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of his dark eye. "Let's not talk about Domrémy tonight."

Napoleon could only abide the plea in Jean's voice. He uncurled Jean’s fingers and noticed how easily they surrendered to being handled.

"In that case," Napoleon walked back to the stove and retrieved the pot. "Let's talk about something else while you help me finish this soup." He then carried another bowl and spoon, along with another glass of water.

Jean gave him a look of genuine astonishment. "Are you not saving it for others in the morning?"

"Nah, I made it just enough for the two of us," Napoleon sat back down. "I mean, assuming you're up for some more."

Jean seized the ladle with a determined expression, despite the flush under his eyes.

"Well, don't mind if I do."

Lots of love and thanks to Marine @weird-konpeito. I was alternating between wanting to write in onion soup and garbure, but she suggested Potée Lorraine instead .

According to what she told me, it’s a dish from Lorraine, where Jeanne/Jean’s birthplace (Domremy) is located. It’s also a popular dish in the Napoleonic Era. So, again, big thanks to Marine for contributing that idea!

@kisara-16 @thedollarstoresatan @delicateikemenmemes @ikesensrandomninjagirl24 @ashavazesa @hokkaido-the-hellbeast @nuclearwinterexe @lulu-the-hedgehog @longingkisses

#ikevam jean #ikevam napoleon #ikevam fanfic #ikevam bl #jeanpoleon #riri tries ikevam

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years ago

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31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 21

Prompt: Trust Rating: G Words: 791 Characters: Cameron Buchanan Summary: Trust is a thing that must be patiently earned.

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

It was obvious that she was from the Echo World from her clothes and the confused stream of what the people who discovered her mistook for babbling, and it was only luck that the Agency had people in the area who spoke Echolian that had managed to convince her to come with them for help.

“We haven’t been able to perform tests,” one of the agents who ran the scientific wing of the facility reported.

“Of course you haven’t,” Cam all but sneered. “The poor girl is scared out of her mind. There’s no telling what she went through to get here or who she may have left behind on the other side.”

The agent tipped their head. “You think you can do better, get her to do some tests so we can see what tier she’s working with?”

Cam crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Even if I can’t, she should have at least one friendly face in a strange world.” He didn’t have to stay to know that Nicky was already making bets with the other scientists, but he didn’t care. Let the others have their fun, he had a frightened girl to help.

She didn’t speak for the first week she was there. Cam would knock on the door to her room and smile at her before politely sitting the furthest amount of distance away. His grasp of Echolian was intermediate at best, but he patiently told her who he was and let her know that it was okay if she didn’t want to talk with him, but if she ever did, he’d be here to listen. Every day he’d spend an hour with her, talking about the new world she was now a part of and sharing a little of himself at the same time. Sometimes he would read to her and while he knew she couldn’t understand the words he spoke, she would perk up and scoot just a little closer to him as the days went on.

And then one day, she spoke.

“My name does not fit any more,” she whispered, voice cracked and hoarse from disuse. “I need a new one.”

Cam looked down and hid his surprise that she was so close, the thin ring of gold around her dark brown eyes visible. “I could help, if you like.”

She nodded. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and showed it to her, looking down as she peered curiously at it from his side, her cheek pressed against his arm. He really didn’t know where to begin, so he pulled up a website for baby names and started reciting them, beginning with all the names that started with the letter A.

It took a while, he saying a name and she shaking her head, but suddenly, she perked up. “This one,” she told him, carefully, cautiously poking her finger at the phone’s screen like she’d seen him do.

“It’s a good name,” he replied, smiling down at her. To his surprise, she gave him the smallest of smiles back. “The people who run this facility would like to do some tests,” he started. “Nothing dangerous, and nothing that would hurt you.”

She shrank back in on herself. “Did you do these same tests?”

He nodded. “I did. Most, if not all, of the people who call this place home have done them.”

Gently, she ghosted a finger across the burn scar on his forearm. “Did any of the tests do that?”

Cam shook his head. “No, lass. Those were there before I got here. The people here helped me to heal.”

She curled her arms around her knees. “I can’t go home, can I?” The tone of voice she used made it sound as if she already knew the answer, but she had to ask the question anyway in case there was a fraction of a chance that she’d be told something to the contrary.

He gave her a sad look. “I’m very sorry.”

She sighed, but rested her cheek on her knees. “Will you be there? When they do the tests?”

Cam nodded. “If you want me to be, I will.”

She nodded. “Please. I trust you, Cam.”

He smiled and carefully bumped her shoulder with his. “Thank you. I’ll not misuse your trust. Can I tell them that you’ll be ready for tests tomorrow?” He watched as she nodded before he stood up.

“Then get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She turned and moved away to the corner of the room Cam knew she had been sleeping in all week before hesitating and cautiously sitting on the bed. It was progress. “Good night, Cam.”

He smiled, standing and opening the door. “Good night, Winona.”

#31daysofwayhaven #my writing #Unit Charlie #cameron buchanan

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an-annyeoing-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Baëkhyun x Reader: derision.

Word count: 1 787

Warnings: mind games, drug use, unethical human subject research.

Rating: M (+16) for the warnings stated above.

The man sat down on the opposite side of the room, legs crossed and a folder with documents seated on his lap. To anyone else looking at him now, his face would seem emotionless. But you saw a hint of derision in his beautiful eyes; his head raised proudly as he looked you over for a few long seconds before opening his documents.

He was barely three, maybe four meters away, but the distance looked like an abyss. The way he sat, the way he behaved, the way he was clothed, so clean, neat and rich, so unlike your dirty, ripped clothes and your limbs stripped to the chair, put up even more distance than there’s ever been before.

You wished there were none, as before, when none of such things mattered. But your wish was not to be granted.

Your head hung lowly.

“Now, shall we start? Miss [L/n], our newest subject. How nice to see you here.” A polite smile crossed his feature, but it wasn’t directed at you, because the man didn’t even look up from his papers. “Let’s talk a bit. It must be a very sudden change in your life, but I hope you’re being treated well. Tell me, is the food alright?”

You wanted to scoff, but a broken sob was all that left your mouth instead. Was he even serious now? He knew how bad it was, how painful. He knew how the guards acted towards the subjects, what the place you were kept in was like, and, although the least important, how nasty the food was, in right amounts to satiate hunger, but stinky and awful in taste, a white butter-like substance consisting of all the ingredients your body would need, but nothing above that.

The man in front of you was nothing but a mocker, taking his time relishing in your misery.

“I’ll take it as a yes, then. We’ve been taking a lot of tests lately, and I must say, your results are promising. What a surprise a diamond like you had been right under our noses all along.”

“Stop talking like this” you whimpered out. “You weren’t working here. You don’t belong here. Stop talking like you’re one of them. It makes me sick.”

Putting his documents together and folding in front of him, Baëkhyun finally looked at you.

“If not one of them, then who I am, Miss [L/n]? And, more importantly, who are you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but simply couldn’t. You managed to handle his gaze for a long time before dropping it miserably.

“I-I was good to you…” you whimpered.

“Sure you were” Baëkhyun scoffed, but his tone was rid off amusement.

“Weren’t I…?”

The man stood up from his chair so suddenly that you flinched, startled, making him smirk without even glancing at you. Putting hands behind his back, he started pacing around the room, sometimes disappearing behind your back, but making no effort to get closer to you then necessary. You swore it drove you crazy. You ached to hold him, to have this littlest amount of comfort that was so close, almost in your reach.

“Miss [L/n], let’s get back to business. You’ve been given the same exact treatment as all of the subjects in our center are. Can you see any differences in your behavior, body, your sensations? Has anything changed in your opinion?”

You weren’t interested in answering his questions. Thousands of thoughts ran through your mind, flashbacks of everything that happened ever since you met him.

You hated every single memory because they were the reason for the pain of both of you, but you loved them just the same, knowing they were the reason you met him, started to grow fond of him, just like, you were sure, he grew fond of you.

You hated the syringe you had to put in his arm because he was struggling so much that the doctors called you over to sedate him, not wanting to get any closer to the dangerous subject. But you loved the way his lips parted slightly at your sight, and he found himself relaxing the very moment you spoke to him, calm and warm, so unlike anything else he’d experienced in the center.

You hated the fact you were the one to always interrogate him, being educated enough to do that, but so low in the ranks that no one cared if he’d hurt you. But you loved the fact that he never did, and that those hours you spent together brought you closer to each other. You loved that you could say him all these comforting things, ease him into this life, and tell him that it won’t last forever, and that his sacrifice will bring a better life to so many. You saw that it worked to calm him down. But you hated that he was the one who had to be that sacrifice. Because you swore you’d rather see him free and well, not beaten up and sedated because he tried to run away again, again and again.

You loved that he was free now. But you hated the fact that you were the price of such luxury.

He was considered a finished case, a subject that nothing more could be done with. And as a successful case, he was given an offer to join the center.

And at the same time, you were accidentally diagnosed as an X-gene carrier, and taken into the custody of the center. What a cruel joke it was, you thought. Almost like those stories about evil kings who tormented their people, only to become a slave to them later on.

But you weren’t like those evil kings. In your opinion, you did your best to ease the suffering of the subjects, and you wanted the X-gene to be used in a way that’d help them, not destroy them furthermore. The X-gene was supposed to be a blessing, something that could help improve the human race, not a reason to dehumanize its carriers.

“You aren’t replying to my question, Miss [L/n]. Should I repeat it for you?”

However, in the subjects’ eyes, all of the doctors were the same: they’ve seen enough of evil kings to deem all of them just as cruel, and maybe, just maybe, you weren’t doing it well enough to make them realize your intentions.

Maybe, in fact, you were nothing but another evil king, relishing in the safety of your superior position.

But even despite all of that, your feelings were no illusion, and the way Baëkhyun acted towards you right now simply broke your heart into pieces, shattering them all over this cold, dark room with every step he made, pacing around you in circles like a hungry vulture over dead meat.

“Baëk…” you whimpered. “I’m so sorry…”

“That’s not the answer to my question, Miss [L/n].”

“Why won’t you use my first name… I told you you can…” Your body shivered at yet another memory that appeared in your head.

“Ah, that’d be very unprofessional.” His voice echoed in a whisper right behind you. You could tell he was leaning down to speak to you, words seeping like a venom, his sweet voice deprived from mercy, ringing in your ears, so beautiful, yet so, so relentless.

“Please, stop tormenting me, I can’t stand this being you, Baëkhyun…”

You tried to turn your head towards him, but your neck hurt too much to move it freely; you thought that there was something wrong with your muscles, but it didn’t stay on your mind for too long, because the sound of shuffling quickly distracted your attention.

Something cold and thin touched your neck; it felt like a knife at first, but you quickly realized it was a syringe, pressed flat against your skin. Your heart skipped, but you forced yourself to stay still. Syringes never meant good, you learned. Upon experiencing them yourself, you found yourself regretting every single one you’d used on someone else.

“You’re very uncooperative today, Miss [L/n]. What should I do with you?”

You sobbed quietly.

“Ah, I know. You seem to be sad these days, isn’t it so?”

The syringe disappeared and for a moment you panted heavily, right before you felt the man’s touch on yourself; it brought as much relief as it brought terror, when the man wrapped his arms around your neck from behind, hanging them loosely in front of you, with the syringe still present in one of them and documents – in the other. The gesture was so intimate, taken out of a completely different story, so nice and comforting; especially as Baëkhyun’s cheek brushed against yours when he leaned down, holding his head right next to yours.

“But you don’t have a reason to worry, I’m here to take care of you after all, aren’t I? So, sweetheart.” His voice rung in your ear; he was so close you could hear even his breathing, and the quietest clickings of his tongue. “Don’t worry about anything. It won’t last forever, you know? And your sacrifice will bring better life to so many.” He mocked you, repeating your own words, you could tell. Yet, the closeness that he provided you, gave you the smallest sense of comfort; you turned your head to glance at his face, and he returned the glance. The proximity took your breath away.

Baëkhyun smiled, softly, but still mockingly.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten all we went through” he whispered. You were sure that his voice wouldn’t be registered on the sensitive cameras placed in the room to film the interrogations that took place in it. It was husky, meant for your ears only. “But let me tell you. I’ll put you through hell, and through way worse things that you’ve seen being done to me or any other subjects. I’ll break your body, your soul, I’ll shatter you and put back together the way I want. And then, sweetheart, then, I’ll take you back. I’ll destroy this forsaken place and all the people who brought this misery upon all of us. We’re no different now, [F/n]. You’re just as cursed and hopeless as I’ve once been. So have a good taste of it, sweetheart. Have a good taste of this hell. Atone for your sins to be worth being saved later.”

Straightening up, the man held the documents in front of himself, re-reading them yet again, which you couldn’t really see, with your gaze fixated blankly on the floor between your knees.

“Now, next question. What is your opinion on sedatives used here? Do you remember the types we use, or should I refresh your memory in that matter? Your feedback will be very much appreciated.”

Since my tags aren’t working again, please, reblog if you enjoyed!

#bbh-net #exosnet #exowritersnet #x-exo #exo x reader #x-exo baekhyun #baëkhyun #exo baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo imagine #exo fanfiction #exo drabble #exo scenario #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun imagine #vg: exo #vg: baekhyun #vg: drabble

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write-a-bad-romance · 4 years ago

Text

Jeanpoleon fic- Hope is a Dish too Soon Finished

It had been well past midnight when Yukari finally left Mozart’s music room. The man had kept her after dinner, saying ‘the quill would only feel inspired enough to move if Yukari was around’ or 'no notes would come to him if Yukari didn’t call upon them".

She chuckled fondly every time she recalled Mozart speaking those exact words without so much as an exaggeration in his voice.

But Yukari had full trust in the residents, now that she’s become a member of their eccentric clan. Even Arthur was at least respectful to leave her alone (maybe it was because of Mozart’s protection, but who knew).

Yukari tried her best to distract herself from the unsettling surroundings. Failing to shake off her trepidation, she broke into a small run.

Of course, sprinting while closing your eyes was never a good idea, and it didn’t take long before she was knocked back by a sturdier body, one that she didn’t notice was advancing towards her in the darkness. “Ow, ow,” she stumbled back before focusing her sight on the other person. “I’m sorry! Are you hurt?”

“Eeep!” Where’s Mozart? Where is he when you need him the most?!

Yukari cautiously watched the strange creature before her, which seemed to be coming to its senses.

“Oh,” a deep voice reverberated. “It’s you, Mademoiselle.”

It was a voice Yukari knew so well. “Jean? I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?” She fussed, despite knowing that nothing could injure the stout former soldier.

But Jean just blinked vacantly at her, and without a word, gently shoved her to the side. The man went his way, visibly staggering despite going in a straight line.

Yukari stared at the ghost’s back as it disappeared into obscurity.

“And just like that, he glided out of sight! He looked, well, he looked dead! I mean, I know he’s undead, but—”

Yukari had to pause when Napoleon interrupted her with a loud snort.

Sebastian regarded him with an uncharacteristically stern look. “With all due respect, Monsieur Napoleon, this is an especially concerning matter.”

The addressed man held down his laughter immediately. “Forgive me,” he changed into a grave expression. “But, Sebastian, you know how he likes to go down the cellars for some Rouge. At least we know he’s not starving himself this time.”

“Although, to be completely honest,” he added. “I’d been momentarily afraid that he’d attack and bite Yukari out of thirst, but I’m glad he didn’t. In any case, I apologize on his behalf.” He bowed his head slightly towards her.

“No! No!” Yukari interjected, “It was also my fault for not looking where I was heading! But, the point is, I was concerned because he seemed really out of it. I thought the way he moved was sluggish. At least, he seemed very different from the Jean that likes to join Mozart and me, or the Jean I see in the stables with you, Napoleon. I don’t know, can vampires get sick?”

Sebastian nodded. “Correct. Even lesser vampires can experience physical ailment from time to time. And indeed, Monsieur Jean, in my observation, is likely in….less than ideal health.”

He moved towards the shelf to align some Blanc decanters. “It’s as Monsieur Napoleon says, his intake of Rouge and Blanc has so far been stable. But lately, I’ve been retrieving his meal trays to find most of them left uneaten."

He looked towards Yukari with a smile. "It was disheartening, considering his appetite had gotten better since you began helping out in the kitchen.”

“Eheheheh, not really! I only repeat what you’ve taught me, Sebastian!” She chuckled as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I mean, I do admit I’m a bit proud of myself for mastering French cuisine one dish at a time. But, I don’t think I can hold a candle to Napoleon here.”

“You flatter me, Yukari.” The emperor smirked. “Unfortunately, he rarely ever leaves his tower, much less come down to the kitchen when I’m cooking."

"Still, it bothers me that he hasn’t been attending our sparring seasons lately,” Napoleon examined the knife he was holding in contemplation. “Yukari, has he been visiting Mozart lately?”

The girl shook her head. “No. Mozart seems bothered about it as much as you do.”

Sebastian chimed in, “Now that you mentioned it, this morning Herr Mozart himself asked me whether I’d seen Monsieur Jean lately. As far as I know, Monsieur Jean only comes down to the stables to take his horse out into town.”

"Trying to manage his weapons shop without help from Mozart?” Napoleon asked humorlessly. “I can’t let this continue."

He strode towards the kitchen door. "Sebastian, come help me in the library after finishing your work. Yukari, do you mind if I borrow him later?”

“Oh, no! He’s all yours!” Yukari eyed Sebastian, who was grinning discreetly. “Are you planning on doing something?”

“I am.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Just you wait.”

Ages ago, Jean would have wandered the brightly lit halls early in the evening, spooking everybody he reached out to like a man in a desert aching for water.

Right now, however, the pitch darkness made it easier for his nightly strolls to the cellar, where he’d empty vials of Rouge before returning to his cot. Without anybody finding out.

But he did bump into Mozart’s lover, whom he startled as much as she did him. This time, he’d have to proceed more carefully, or he’d run to others like Sebastian —or even worse, Leonardo.

He’d caught wind of Isaac barging into the kitchen and drinking every single bottle of Rouge on the shelf. Not only was Jean trying to avoid needless company, but he also wanted to prevent awkward encounters the morning after.

His frame cast shadows on the wine-colored carpeting, which now looked blue under the moonlight.

Within this condemned body is a ghost longing to be erased from this undesiring world.

So lost was Jean in thought that he wasn’t aware of a hand that gently pushed against his chest to stop him.

Napoleon smiled upon gazing into the (sadly devoid) eye of his quarry.

“Caught you,” he spoke softly. “Come with me. This is what you get for missing our training sessions.”

Wordlessly and without a fight, Jean allowed the former emperor to pull him by his wrist.

So thin. Napoleon contemplated. My judgment was correct.

Jean followed Napoleon into the warmly illuminated kitchen, where a rich, meaty scent greeted him upon entering. He spotted an earthenware pot sitting on the stove.

“Come over here, Jean,” Napoleon had already pulled a chair at the table where he and Isaac (and sometimes Sebastian and Yukari) gathered every time he made a dish.

Jean only looked at the table, then back at Napoleon’s face.

The emperor laughed, his voice akin to the ringing of bells in the otherwise silent kitchen. “Why look at me like that? Come on, let’s get you to your seat.”

Jean quietly watched the back of Napoleon’s white shirt as he moved about by the stove, scooping and pouring its content into a smaller bowl.

Why is he doing this?

Why…for me?

Napoleon turned, carrying the bowl and placing it on the table. He pushed it closer towards Jean until the steam rose in front of his face.

Jean inspected the surface of the soup. He could make out carrots, cabbages, potatoes, chunks of turnip, and what seemed to be pork.

The scent was a familiar one.

Seeing that Jean still didn’t move to pick up the spoon that he had set, Napoleon called him out. “What’s wrong?”

Jean averted his eye from the dish and looked down at his lap instead. “Where’s yours?”

“Huh?”

“Shouldn’t you have some yourself before offering them to me?"

Napoleon waved away the question with a smirk. "Oh, this is an experiment I’ve always wanted to try. I won’t feel confident unless you test it for me.”

Why me? “This is Potée Lorraine.”

Napoleon nodded (somewhat too enthusiastically to Jean’s liking), “It is. What about it?”

“It should be… never mind.” Jean wanted to say: It should be a simple recipe. A man as capable of you can’t possibly spoil it even if you try.

But Jean knew better than to dishearten a friend over a bad mood. His body might have been yearning for blood, but his senses were now urging him to indulge him something else.

For once, he didn’t object to the idea of satisfying his (real and very human) hunger.

Eventually, Jean blew at the spoon and gave himself a taste. The broth slid easily down his throat.

Napoleon watched him intently as Jean closed his eyes, seemingly trying to decipher what he’d just eaten. “Don’t stop, Jean. I still have enough for both of us. And more.”

Obediently, the soldier went for another scoop. And then another, and another. With every gulp, Napoleon could see the color returning to his moon-pale skin.

In the middle of working through his soup, however, Jean lifted his face with a fully open eye.

"What is this?”

After uttering the short (but significant, at least to Napoleon’s ears) question, Jean resumed devouring the entire soup.

Noticing the quiet hum of life returning to Jean’s body, the former emperor leaned back in contentment.

Ah, this is why I cook for others.

It was always an encouraging sight, seeing Isaac gasp in awe at a Dijon chicken sandwich after a full day of overworking his brain. There was Sebastian’s appreciation as a piece of a cara-age cured his homesickness.

Yukari, too, always complimented his macarons, but it was the sight of her delightfully nibbling away at the sweets that rewarded him more. He couldn’t even stop himself from smiling too when Dazai remarked fondly on his successful recreation of tofu miso.

But this? This was another scene entirely.

Napoleon wasn’t just discovering another side of Jean he’d always been longing to see, he was also expelling the toxicity that plagued the beautiful soldier from head to toe. Gone was the sullen and thirst in his eyes, replaced by a spark that got brighter and brighter every time Jean took another bite of the hearty meal.

The man could picture ghost-like smog pouring out of every part in Jean’s body, eventually dissipating into the air. The humble Potée Lorraine didn’t just serve to neutralize poison, but it also exorcised Jean’s demons.

At least for now.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Napoleon finally saw Jean sweating and taking in deep breaths, as he always did every time they finished sparring.

“It was good,” Jean spoke, his head still tilted towards the ceiling. “Hit the spot, you might say.”

Napoleon chuckled and pulled up a chair right next to Jean. “My hypothesis was correct,” he dabbed Jean’s moist forehead with a napkin. “You really were starving, but not for blood.”

Jean peered at him through a half-lidded eye. The light that the Potée Lorraine restored was swimming in it. “What do you mean?”

The emperor lifted the eyepatched soldier’s wrist and showed it to him. “If you only needed blood for nourishment, your wrist shouldn’t stay this small after drinking all that Rouge. What’s more,” He continued, still not dropping Jean’s wrist. “The unusual paleness of your skin, your sunken eyes, and lack of enthusiasm for daily activities clued me in on your condition.”

Napoleon finally settled the hand on Jean’s lap. “As the Chinese saying goes, food is medicine. It can’t cure your entire body in a short time, but it should lighten your heart enough to make you want to feel better.”

“It’s not much, offering you comfort food. I don’t even know what your favorite food is. But Potée Lorraine was a popular dish in my time, and then I discovered that it had been around during your period too.” He then smiled apologetically, “Forgive me if I didn’t get the recipe correctly, though. You were born in Lorraine, so of course, you’d be more familiar with the original recipe.”

“No,” Jean shot back with a surprising amount of passion in his voice. “It was better. Much better than the elaborate dishes le Comte wants us to eat.”

Napoleon couldn’t quite comprehend what le Comte had to do with this. “Come again? ”

Jean sighed, his previously serene visage changing into a regretful one. “I don’t mean to undermine both Yukari and Sebastian’s work. They did well, producing wonderful dishes that everybody enjoys.”

“But?”

“But my body can no longer take it,” Jean toyed with the edges of his cape. “I… My body rejected them. I felt repulsed at ingesting such luxurious food that I didn’t deserve. I tried staving off my additional starvation with more Blanc, but it hasn’t gone too well.”

“In the end, I had no choice but to consume Rouge. With Yukari in the mansion, I can’t risk attacking and drinking blood directly from a human. It was either forcing myself to drink that wretched thing or cause trouble.”

Jean took a swig of the clear water that was offered to him by Napoleon. After wiping his mouth, he resumed. “Yet, no matter how much I drink every night , my hunger persists. I’ve been feeling immense guilt at the thought of Sebastian worrying over a depleting Rouge supply.”

“But your simple dish,” Jean lifted the bowl close to his face to inhale the lingering aroma. “Somehow melted away this stubborn craving of mine. As expected of our Napoleon.”

The red that tinted Jean’s cheeks as he spoke the words made Napoleon unknowingly blush too.

“W-well,” Napoleon’s embarrassment was still palpable. “There’s more to your reluctance to eat extravagant dishes. I’ve been checking the menu, and it seems your body has been rejecting all that oil and fat. However,”

He put a hand on Jean’s shoulder and gripped it. “Even you deserve to nourish yourself once in a while. I can talk at length about the finer points of French food, but we can all agree on one thing: whether it’s a peasant dish or haute cuisine, good food is still good food.”

“It seems that the stew hit more than just your taste buds,” His finger jabbed at Jean’s heart. “It probably went straight to your homesickness too. I learned that this dish originated from Lorraine, where Domrémy is—’

Napoleon felt Jean’s cold fingers enveloping his.

"Please, no,” Jean whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of his dark eye. “Let’s not talk about Domrémy tonight.”

Napoleon could only abide the plea in Jean’s voice. He uncurled Jean’s fingers and noticed how easily they surrendered to being handled.

“In that case,” Napoleon walked back to the stove and retrieved the pot. “Let’s talk about something else while you help me finish this soup.” He then carried another bowl and spoon, along with another glass of water.

Jean gave him a look of genuine astonishment. “Are you not saving it for others in the morning?”

“Nah, I made it just enough for the two of us,” Napoleon sat back down. “I mean, assuming you’re up for some more.”

Jean seized the ladle with a determined expression, despite the flush under his eyes.

“Well, don’t mind if I do.”

Lots of love and thanks to Marine @weird-profiterole. I was alternating between wanting to write in onion soup and garbure, but she suggested Potée Lorraine instead .

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captain-azoren · 4 years ago

Link

The Spirit Forged, Chapter 3 - Tame

“Uhg, he reeks," Ginger said as she pinched her nose. "Have you been bathing him?"

"Well I could try to hose him down again." Varrick said as he grabbed a leaky fire hose from the wall. Raiga hissed and hid behind Ginger, his hair standing on end and his tail puffing up.

"Let's try a bathtub instead…"

Varrick tests Raiga's abilities, and starts to civilize him with the help of Ginger.

FF.Net

AO3

Raiga paced back and forth in front of the steel bars, reinforced since his escape the other day. The staff had managed to tranquilize him again, but not before he had gotten a better look at where he was. Raiga was being held at Varrick's lab on the outskirts of Republic City, away from the prying eyes of the public. It was a large facility where Varrick Global Industries conducted its research and development projects. This was the place where many scientific breakthroughs had been discovered in the last decade. Varrick wanted to keep his new discovery a secret until he was ready for a big reveal.

Since Raiga's capture, Varrick has been testing and observing what he could do. Raiga had already proven strong enough to bend steel bars without too much effort, but Varrick needed to know more. To gather data, the scientist ran some experiments.

First, Varrick placed a steak inside a metal crate and covered it with a massive lead weight, over one-thousand kilos. Raiga smelled it, and heaved the weight aside as though he were moving an office desk.

Next, Varrick tested Raiga's speed, which in hindsight may not have been the safest experiment. He took the beast-man out into an empty airstrip that he owned. Varrick held a roasted turducken out the back of a jeep and began to drive off. His assistants opened Raiga's cage, much to their reluctance, and Raiga darted out after the meat. Raiga caught up with the jeep in a matter of seconds. Thankfully, they had brought plenty more meat to lead him back into his cage.

With those out of the way, Varrick was ready for the next stage of tests; intelligence. Varrick started simple, with some basic shape puzzles. Children's toys, really. He had gotten some for whenever he and Zhu Li decided they wanted a baby, but she said they weren't ready. Varrick figured he could put them to good use.

Raiga fit the square pegs into the square holes, no problem. He stacked the rings in order from largest to smallest. It seemed he was at least smarter than a wild animal. From there, Varrick tried harder puzzles, like a jigsaw puzzle, albeit one with large pieces. The beast-man was able to place the six pieces where they all belonged after a couple of minutes, and for each puzzle Raiga solved, he got a nice fat salmon-trout to snack on.

What really interested Varrick was Raiga's ability to speak. The beast-man had uttered a few simple words, like "yes," "no" and "meat". Varrick reentered the observation room, a box of flash-cards in one hand and a bucket of chick-bacon in the other. Raiga sniffed the air and his eyes lit up when he saw the food. Varrick sat down on a stool in front of the cage, and the beast-man sat down cross-legged.

"Alright Raiga, here's the deal," Varrick began. "I'll show you some pictures. Every time you say what's on the card, you get one of these," Varrick held up the chick-bacon bucket, Raiga's eyes following closely. There were steel bars between them, but Varrick learned quickly to stay more than arm's length away from the cage when there was food around. "Understand?"

Raiga nodded, and his eyes darted back to Varrick as he pulled out the first card. It had the picture of a tree.

"What's this?" The scientist asked.

"Rrr, trrreee?" Raiga said.

"Good!" Varrick tossed him a chick-bacon strip through the bars. Raiga caught the crispy meat in his mouth and chewed it up. "Now, this one?"

"Mmnn, apple!"

"Good, next!" Another strip and another card.

"Cl-c-cloud."

"You're on a roll, tomcat. This one?"

"Mmmountain."

"And this one?" Varrick held up a picture of a Satomobile. Raiga squinted at it, stumped. He growled as he scratched his head, trying to remember what it was called. Suddenly, the door opened, and Raiga turned his head to the sound.

"Gingerrr!"

"Huh? No, sa-to-mo-bile," Varrick said.

"Ahem." Came a voice. Varrick turned around to see his favorite mover star Ginger standing in the doorway, looking just as bemused as ever.

"Ginger, what are you doing here?" Varrick asked as he set the bucket down a little too close to the cage and stood up.

"I've been trying to reach you for over a week now," Ginger said in annoyance. "My agent finally found out where you were and… is that him?" The actress asked as she finally took note of Raiga. Varrick turned to see the cat-boy chowing down on the chick-bacon and making a mess.

"Oh yeah, I've been running some tests to see what he can do," Varrick replied with a grin. "I'm gonna teach him how to talk, maybe even sing."

"Whatever," Ginger sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Look, if we're not doing the mover anymore, would you just pay me for my time and end my contract? I have other projects I could be doing."

"No, no, Ginger: Warrior Princess is still on, we've just had to do some rewrites to the script," Varrick responded and he gestured to the cage. "And we've given you a new co-star!" Ginger raised an eyebrow, then grimaced.

"Him?!" Ginger asked. "He's an animal!"

"Animals can be actors, remember Pabu and Naga?" Varrick asked. "Look, I'm telling you, people are going to be fighting over tickets to the premiere of this mover, just to see this guy! Oh, and you too, of course."

Ginger gave Varrick a skeptical glance. "No one else even knows about him though…"

"Oh, they will," Varrick said as he went to sit back down. "The whole world will know when I give him his big debut, but first, I've got to civilize him." The scientist shuffled his flash cards as Raiga finished the chick-bacon.

The cat-boy looked to Ginger curiously, and they locked eyes for a moment. He seemed so unearthly to the actress and so savage, but she did not feel as afraid as she did in their first encounter. Maybe it was just the cage he was in, but Ginger was more intrigued than anxious now.

"Gingerrr…" Raiga said softly, his tufted tail swishing back and forth.

"I think he likes you," Varrick said. "Hey, I'll double your money if you stick around the lab and help me teach him how to act on camera."

"…Okay." Ginger answered to Varrick's surprise.

"Really? Well alright!" Varrick took out another card and held it out. "What's this?"

"Rrriverr."

"No Raiga, it's clearly a stream." Varrick sighed and the beast-man growled with annoyance. "I'm gonna need more chick-bacon."

-----

Over the course of the next week, Varrick and Ginger began teaching Raiga basic speech, as well as honing his dexterity. It took a while, but they managed to get him to sit down at a dining table. What took even longer was teaching him how to use utensils. Spoons were not too difficult, but chopsticks were another matter. One step at a time, Varrick said. It was frustrating work, but worth the extra pay.

"Uhg, he reeks," Ginger said as she pinched her nose. "Have you been bathing him?"

"Well I could try to hose him down again." Varrick said as he grabbed a leaky fire hose from the wall. Raiga hissed and hid behind Ginger, his hair standing on end and his tail puffing up.

"Let's try a bathtub instead…" Ginger muttered. Soon enough, the staff had dragged in a large metal tub and they filled it with water.

Raiga carefully approached with a little coaxing and dipped a finger into the water to test the temperature. It was lukewarm, but he was used to swimming in pond water anyway. The cat-boy trilled happily before hopping in the tub with his loincloth still on, submerging himself in the water and spilling it everywhere.

"I guess jungle cats really do like water," Varrick said as he picked up a bottle from the floor. "Alright, let's soap him up."

"Uh, no way," Ginger said as she crossed her arms and turned up her nose. "I'm not some nanny. Can't you get one of the staff to do it?"

"I would, but they're all too scared for some reason." Varrick replied while he shook the shampoo bottle.

"I need a break anyway." The actress began to walk towards the exit. Raiga saw her leaving and let out a long whine.

"Gingerrr, nnnoooo…" The cat-boy pleaded. Ginger looked back at him and his big, sparkly blue eyes.

"Uhhg, relax, I won't be gone long, just getting some lunch." Ginger said as she left. Raiga grumbled sadly as Varrick squirted some shampoo onto his shaggy head.

"Aw cheer up, Fuzzy," Varrick said as he lathered up the shampoo. "You know what girls like? Clean hair. I know from experience."

Meanwhile, Ginger made her way to the break room and fetched her box lunch from the fridge. Normally, she would have liked to have gone to a café, but the lab was a little too far from any. Besides, reporters had been getting a little too nosey lately, and she preferred her privacy. The actress had packed a simple noodle salad and poured some tea. She still preferred to be waited on, but it was not as though she could not take care of herself. Ginger was not born a mover star, after all.

Sitting down to eat, Ginger opened a newspaper that had been left on the table. As she stirred her food a bit with her chopsticks, Ginger spotted a column titled "The Equalist Fallout." The actress frowned as she skimmed it. The column was a retrospective of the Equalist movement from several years ago, from its modest beginnings to its violent end. A few Equalist cells were reported to still exist, but the organization had all but died after Amon's fall.

"Hmph, good riddance…" Ginger muttered. She sipped her tea as she looked down at an archived photo of one of the earliest Equalist rallies. It was a crowd of people standing in front of a speaker, with a banner of Amon in the back. The image was one Ginger was familiar with, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary… save for a leaf-shaped hat among the crowd…

Ginger nearly choked on her tea. She coughed a few times to make sure none of the warm liquid went down into her lungs. The actress took a long look at the picture again. Indeed, there was someone in the crowd wearing a leaf-shaped hat, but they had their back to the camera, their face turned away and the rest of their body obscured. She took a deep breath, sighed, and went back to her food. It was nothing to worry about. It was just history now…

Back in the observation room, Raiga emerged from beneath the water and took a gulp of air, the soap rinsing off of him. Varrick shielded himself as Raiga shook his shaggy head and sent water flying everywhere.

"Ladies also love a good haircut," The scientist said as he tossed Raiga a towel. "Don't worry, I know the best stylist in the city. Not Zhu Li good of course, but close enough."

As Raiga began to towel dry his air, Ginger entered back into the room, having finished her lunch.

"Varrick, you should really have a cafeteria for this place or-WAH!" Ginger caught a glimpse of Raiga's bare naked backside and covered her eyes, blushing furiously. "What happened to his loincloth!?"

"Came off in the wash I guess," Varrick said as he fished out the piece of fur from the tub. "Don't worry, he's pretty much human down there."

"Can we please get him some real pants to wear already!?" Ginger asked.

"Can do, but not before he's all dry," Varrick said as he went to plug in a handheld hairdryer. "Raiga, come 'ere!" He turned on the hair dryer, the device whirring loudly. Raiga hissed and jumped away, dropping his towel and landing right in front of Ginger. The actress let out a squeal when she saw him and covered her face once more. She hopped around in fright as Varrick chased the cat boy around the room, causing a mess.

-----

Raiga slipped his tail through the rear end of the new pair of sturdy blue pants and secured them around his waist with a light brown belt. He trilled as he moved his legs, testing them.

"Specially tailored just for you," Varrick said as he put away his needle and thread into a box. "Good thing I asked Zhu Li to teach me how to sew. Now you just need a shirt, some shoes, the whole shebang! Then you'll be ready to hit the town."

"We go town?" Raiga asked, his tail flicking back and forth.

"Not quite yet, but soon," Varrick reassured him and tossed Raiga a white tank top with a V-neck. "We've still got to work on your vocabulary, it's WILL we go TO town. Now, I think it's time we gave you a manicure. Those claws are a danger to all furniture-kind."

Raiga growled in disappointment. He had decided to stick around the lab because Varrick kept feeding him all sorts of delicious meats that he had never found in the forest. The cat-boy was starting to get tired of being cooped up though. The idea of a giant forest made of stone and metal made Raiga excited and curious. As soon as he learned what Varrick and Ginger were teaching him, then he could see it.

He picked up his lessons quickly. It was as though he was merely remembering how to ride a bicycle. Raiga's grammar improved, to the point that he could say what he meant with one simple sentence. Even still, he could not hold a conversation, and often became anxious and restless when he had to sit still and talk for too long. Nevertheless, Varrick was happy with their progress, and felt confident that Raiga would soon be presentable.

-----

"Left, right, right, left," Ginger said as she moved her feet to the rhythm of the music. "Raiga, pay attention." The cat-boy was fascinated by the sounds coming from the record player, but he snapped to attention and began to mimic Ginger's dancing. "Alright, you're getting the hang of it. I bet Varrick wants us to do a musical number. Okay, together now."

Raiga tilted his head as Ginger took his right hand in her left. She placed his other hand on her waist and held onto his shoulder.

"One two three, one two three…" Ginger said softly as they moved across the smooth floor.

"Left, left, rrright, right, left, left." Raiga said as he concentrated on his feet, moving in sync with the actress to the beat.

"You've got it!" Ginger said in an uncharacteristically cheery tone. She looked up at Raiga and felt a shock when they locked eyes. The beast-man's eyes were still startling. The bright, saturated blue of his irises almost seemed to glow. They were unlike the calming, icy blue eyes common in the Water Tribes, much less Ginger's own dark grey. Framed by the rust-colored markings on his face and with the vertical slits of his pupils, it seemed to trigger a deep, primal fear in the actress.

That fear was kept in check by her innate human curiosity. How did Raiga come to exist, Ginger wondered? Was he born this way? Did something happen? She wanted to know.

"Raiga, what are you?" Ginger asked him. Raiga let out a low, soft growl, looking away as he thought.

"Don't know, don't remember," The beast-man answered sadly. He looked back up at Ginger and reached for her face. She let out a small gasp as he ran two fingers through her red hair. The actress blushed, and Raiga tilted his head curiously. "You… like me?"

"Uh, um, I…" Ginger became flustered as she pulled away. Raiga let out a soft whine. What kind of a question was that? She turned away to hide her embarrassed expression, and went to the record player to change the music track. "Let's just move on to the next dance. You're doing really well, Raiga, don't get distracted now…"

Raiga stared at Ginger forlornly a moment longer, then gave a shrug as he tapped his foot to the new tune. There was one more reason Raiga decided to stay and play along.

-----

"Alright, try it one more time," Varrick said as he sat down in the arm chair. "The rice is nice with Fire Nation spice." To his right, Ginger lounged on the sofa, fanning herself with a gold-trimmed palm-leaf fan. In front of him sat Raiga on a stool. Raiga scratched his head and cleared his throat.

"The rrrice, is nice, with Firre… Nation… spice."

"Again."

"The rrice is nice with Fire, Nation, spice." Raiga repeated, his growl softer this time, but his voice louder and more confident.

"Again!"

"The rice is nice with Fire Nation spice!" Raiga stood up and shouted with perfect articulation, startling Ginger.

"What's nice?" Varrick asked as he pointed to Raiga.

"Rice!"

"And where's it from?!"

"The Fire Nation!"

"And why is it nice!?"

"Spice!"

"I think he's got it!" Varrick cheered as he pulled Ginger to her feet.

"Yeah, he's got it," Ginger said with irritation. "Are we done now?"

"Yep, I think we're done." Varrick said with a grin. "Raiga, you've gone from an unwashed, primitive animal to a civilized human being. It's time."

"Time to hit the town?" Raiga asked as his eyes lit up.

"You're gonna knock 'em dead, kid."

Author’s Notes:

Another short chapter. If it's not obvious, this one is inspired by My Fair Lady. I know it isn't much for such a long time between chapters, but I've been busy, and I kind of wanted to get this out of the way. I don't know if I've written Ginger in character, but there's not much to go on from what little screen time was given. I might as well write her the way I want, and I have plans for making a backstory for her. Things are going to get more exciting in the next chapter, don't worry.

#Spirit Forged #The Spirit Forged #Ginger #tlok ginger #Varrick #tlok varrick #Raiga #fanfic #fanfiction #LOK #tlok #atla #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #legend of korra #the legend of korra #avatar the legend of korra

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commander-rahrah · 5 years ago

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RESIDENCY (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART SIXTEEN

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating and Warning: T (Swearing, alcohol consumption, surgery)

Word Count: 6300+

Description: Tragedy strikes Boston when a subway line derails, and Jordynne has to face it without her favorite Attending while he is off “coping”.

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: I DID IT. The longest update of my life. My laptop gave me so many issues, and essentially it has turned into an editing only machine now :( I have also struggled a lot with posting anxiety.

Thank you to the mutuals for checking in on the fic and for giving me inspiration to finish! You know who you are <3

ALSO, I changed up the diamond scene with Bryce -- It is a cute scene going go-karting, but I just felt that realistically MC would be so exhausted after the day she had, so I changed it up. And my fic was already at 6k... so I skipped the dinner with Raf. But it is definitely is implied at happening!

As always any comments, likes, reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you would like to be tagged in future updates please feel free to reply or DM me! Thank you <3

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374 @lahelable @mayar-mahdy@paisleylovergirl @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @mindlessdreaminxo @lapisreviewsstuff @themingdynasty

jooous

Previous Updates: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part ElevenPart Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen

Previous chapter: Part Fifteen

PART SIXTEEN

Cape Cod was beautiful this time of year. The sand was as golden and soft as brown sugar. An orange glow casting through white fluffy clouds, and the soft caw of seagulls and waves crashing could be heard down the beach.

Though Ethan Ramsey really couldn’t appreciate it.

He was sitting on the painted porch of his small beach house, his head lolling back against the lounge chair he was in. A tumbler was tightly gripped in his hand, the smallest amount of amber liquid remaining in it. Jenner was laying loyally at his feet — his little body moving up and down as he slept.

His mind wasn’t swirling at the moment — a consequence of the copious amounts of alcohol Ethan had been pumping into his body over the last few days. He had stayed sober long enough to drive his Mercedes the one and a half-hour drive to Cape Code, before fumbling with the cap of yet another bottle and pouring yet another glass.

He had needed to escape the city. His phone was continuously ringing and vibrating with messages, a few buzzes at his apartment door.

Harper was being insistent — demanding to know when he was coming back, what set this all off. Ethan had finally caved and answered her call long enough to tell her that he wasn’t going to be in the city and to leave him the fuck alone.

Naveen had called to let him know that he had settled in at his house. He could barely stand the thought of him all alone up there.

And Jordynne. He couldn’t answer her calls. Just the look on her face was still haunting him, her calling out after him. He couldn’t even imagine what she had to say to him right now — he had thought of too many versions in his head by now and had no idea what the real one would even be.

All at once Ethan felt exhausted — completely drained from the past few days. The crying and kissing and goodbyes and more crying and drinking. It was all too much. His stormy eyes fluttered closed right there on the porch.

His phone buzzed on the quartz countertop inside. The muted TV played images of a flustered news anchor and a crashed subway.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne and Jackie glanced at each other nervously, taking a deep breath before nodding at each other.

Okay. Let's do this.

“Work fast! Those people are counting on you!” Zaid shouted over his shoulder, before turning to hand out more triage tags.

Jackie sprinted towards a howling woman quickly, leaving Jordynne with an unconscious young man and a quiet woman bent over herself. Moving over to the woman, Jordynne eyed the unconscious man in the gurney before focusing her attention on her new patient.

She squirmed and moaned from the pain.

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Dr. Holland. Can you tell me your name?” Jordynne did her best to keep her voice steady, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves as she spoke.

The woman looked up at her through her black fringe — her face covered in dirt and blood. “Tamara,” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Grabbing the sharpie from her lanyard, Jordynne scribbled it onto one of the triage booklets. “Can you tell me why you’re whispering, Tamara?”

“Hurts…” She wheezed out, gesturing to her stomach. Holding up a gloved hand, the young doctor asked silent permission before pressing her hand lightly to her stomach. The patient gasped in agony.

Jordynne took in a deep breath, her mind whirling. Stomach is distended, but rock hard. Internal bleeding. A lot of it. And fast.

Jordynne called out, “Dr. Mirani! This woman needs immediate surgery. She’s bleeding into her abdomen!”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with worry. “Tag her, get her somewhere safe. The surgeons will be with her as soon as they’re available.”

“But…”

“This is triage, Holland. I know you want to stay and help, but you have to assess and move on. More patients are on the way.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Furrowing her brow, she tore the other tags away, leaving her name and red tag showing. Helping her into a bed that was visible from the OR door. “Someone will be with you soon, Tamara. Focus on breathing, okay?”

The woman nodded profusely, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Good work, Holland. Let’s keep going.”

Remembering the unconscious young man in the gurney, Jordynne sidled up next to him as she heard furious footsteps.

Sienna whirled past the pair, her hands pressed to the bleeding chest of an older man. “I’ve got your sir!” She said, her eyebrows set in determination.

Grabbing the flashlight pen from her chest pocket, Jordynne shined the light into the unconscious patient’s eyes — his pupils don’t budge.

Pressing her trained fingers to her neck, she felt a shallow pulse — barely there. “Come on, man. Show me something.” She muttered to herself, grabbing a cuff from the sidewall — she tested his blood pressure. It was low — too low to sustain brain function. Grinding her molars, Jordynne scribbled John Doe onto a black triage tag. “I’m sorry — whoever you are.”

Suddenly, more doctors poured into the ER — grabbing triage tags and assigning themselves to patients quickly. Even Chief Emery rushed in — her hair pulled back into a quick bun, her silver hoops shining.

A nurse called out to Emery. “Chief Emery! Should we call Dr. Ramsey? We could use the help!”

“He’s not even in the city right now… But we can handle this. Stay focused.” Her voice was strong, determined.

Jordynne froze at the mention of Ethan — standing still for a moment in the middle of the chaos. Jackie’s brown hand found her shoulder, shaking her back to reality, “Keep moving, Jordynne.”

Turning around she saw a middle-aged man with a pale face, clutching his arm. “What’s your name, sir?”

“M—Manuel.” He stammered. His shirt was covered in blood, a cut just above his eye had blood running from it still.

Changing her gloves, she put some pressure on the wound, “I’m Dr. Holland. I’m going to need you to tell me where it hurts, Manuel.”

“I was with my daughter. She was trapped… I begged them not to take me without her…”

Jordynne noticed his anxiety — he wasn’t going to be concerned about his health. She needed to distract him, get him talking and calm down. “What’s her name?”

“Lucia.” He breathed.

“Lucia’s in really good hands, Manuel. The paramedics are doing their best to get her out and safely to the hospital. And I need to do my best to make sure you’re safe and well enough to hug her when she gets here. Okay?”

“O-Okay.” He nodded, starting to calm down.

“Holland! What are you doing? Keep up the pace, a lot more people need you!”

Her jaw set in a hard line, before she let out a deep breath, “Manuel, can you tell me where it hurts?”

“It’s just my arm,” He held it up with his other hand, “I think I broke it when I hit a handrail.”

Gently feeling his arm, Jordynne located a minor fracture. Grabbing her sharpie again, she scrawled his name on yet another triage tag and statused him green. “You might be waiting in the atrium a while, but someone will look at your arm and stitch up those cuts as soon as they’re free.”

“When Lucia turns up, you have to get me, okay? I have to see her.” His eyes were filling with tears, panicking starting to rise in his voice again.

“I will. I promise.”

Each patient got harder and harder — their pain and anxiety whiplashing Jordynne.

“You’re not in immediate danger. Relax and let me work.” Landry said next to her during one of her patients — cold and calculating. He whirled through the assessments like a robot — ignoring the patient’s tears and cries.

Jordynne locked her jaw again as she overhead him — how he was treating the patients, how he had treated her. All of them were just a means to an end for Landry — something along the way to get him to what he wanted.

It made her sick thinking of what he had done — the patients he had potentially put at risk, hiding those charts and turning off her pager. All for a stupid competition.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Jordynne changed her rubber gloves once again. She could feel her fingers trembling, her heart pounding in her ears. What was she doing here?

Opening her green eyes, she moved towards the next patient.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne was sitting in the cold stairwell — leaning against the wall as she sat on the very first step. She was taking a break — a forced break. Zaid had pushed her pink water bottle into her hand, gently telling her that she needed to rest. Eventually, she had agreed and she found herself in the quiet corner of the hospital — away from prying eyes and ears.

Taking out her phone, she quickly responded to a few messages from her family, asking if she was okay.

She wasn’t. So she lied.

Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hesitated over his name before she finally clicked it.

The sound of the phone ringing echoed in the concrete stairwell.

“Please pick up. Pick up. Pick up.” She muttered to herself.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey. You know what to do.

The sound of his voicemail hit her ears again — causing her shoulders to drop. Of course, he hadn't picked up. He hadn’t picked up over the last few days — why would he now.

His voicemail beeped at her.

“Ethan, it’s Jordynne.” She played with her ponytail nervously as she spoke, “I know you’re not answering your calls or texts and you’re probably already deep into like your third bottle of scotch by now… But there was a really bad accident on the subway, and I know Ethan Ramsey would never take the subway in his life, and I overheard Chief Emery say you were out of town but I just really need to know if you’re okay. Please. Tell anyone... it doesn’t have to be me. Please, Ethan.”

With trembling hands, she put her phone back in her pocket. She put her head in her hands, staying there with her eyes closed for a moment — suddenly overwhelmed.

“Dr. Holland?” The stairwell door squeaked open, and a soft voice called out. Jordynne wiped at the tears brimming in her eyes, before turning around.

Nurse Mahiri gave her a sad smile, “Sorry, your patient in 517 is asking for you.”

Letting out a sigh, she moved her hands to her knees and pushed herself up, “Right. Back to reality.”

_______________________________________________________________________

In a blur of patients, and father/daughter reunions, and mild panic attacks, Jordynne found herself scrubbed in and standing over the operating table. She did her best to stare anywhere but at the vulnerable body below her. Rafael. Her breath sounded loud and frantic behind her surgical mask — God, what was she doing?

Jordynne gulped as she watched Chief Harper make a long incision across his abdomen. This was too much. What was she doing in here?

“Clamp.”

She handed her the tool silently, watching her work on her friend’s exposed body.

“Suction.”

“Yes, doctor.” She did as she was told, placing the suction cup into the open cavity, cleaning it to give Harper a better view of the damage. She did her best to keep her breath under control — the pounding in her ears echoing.

“Thank you, Holland. Do you see it, Dr. Lahela?”

“There’s a lot of damage to his spleen and kidneys.”

“Good eye. Let’s get to work.”

Jordynne became mesmerized by the two surgeons — watching them work so skillfully. Both of their eyes were shining as they made complicated incisions and stitches, working diligently side by side. Gratefully taking the distraction of watching them working, forgetting momentarily of the anxiety and worry she was feeling over her comrade.

“Suction.”

Suddenly, a geyser of fluid came out of the cavity. “His appendix just burst!”

“Dammit. I can’t get to it right now, can you?” Harper gestured to the tools in her hands.

Bryce shook his head, “Not without giving up on this kidney.”

They both stared at Jordynne.

“Okay… Holland, you need to remove his appendix.”

Jordynne’s green eyes turned wide. “What?”

“Calm down. Just follow my instructions and you’ll do fine.”

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she listened to Emery’s instructions — making the incisions carefully.

“Oh god, I’m actually doing surgery.”

“Welcome to the big leagues, Jordy.” She could hear Bryce’s smile in his voice, despite the mask covering his mouth.

“Locate the appendix.”

Jordynne’s fingers gently wrapped around the organ, and she couldn’t help but look up at her friend’s face — bruised and bloodied, put peaceful under the anesthesia.

“Feel for the opening of the appendix, and place a staple to seal it from the intestine.” Jordynne did what she was told, and looked back up to the Chief with a giant gulp.

Her eyes were filled with approval, “Good job, Holland. That should buy us a few minutes.”

Bryce gave her an encouraging nod, “Okay, now I’m going to need you to help me with this kidney. I’m going to need you to train a light just here…” He grabbed onto her hand gently, moving the light into just the right spot. His hands were warm through the latex gloves. “Good, that’s it. Now keep this area suctioned. Repairing this valve is delicate work…” His brown eyes were darker than usual — training onto the careful work he was doing.

After a few more harrowing minutes, Bryce lets out a huge sigh of relief. “The kidney’s stable.”

Harper glanced up from her work, her mask pulling as she smiled, “Excellent work, Lahela. I know surgeons with ten years on you that couldn’t pull that off.”

Bryce’s eyebrows moved up into his blue cap, “I’m glad that it's up to your standards, Dr. Emery.”

“Alright, Lahela, finish removing the appendix. Holland, over here.”

The hours crawled by — many bags of blood replaced, Jordynne’s feet were starting to ache. But her mind was spinning at least — she was focused on the surgery and Rafael. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Finally, they all stepped back as the irrigation proved successful.

“We did it!” Bryce let out, his fist-pumping up in front of him.

“Yes, we did. Lahela, that was incredible.” She gave him a stern nod, “And Holland, I have to say, I’m impressed. Not many doctors could step up like you just did.”

Jordynne’s eyebrows furrowed, noticing the look in Chief Emery’s eye — “I’m just happy Rafael’s okay.”

“Without you, he might not have been. You should be proud of the work you did today.” Her face was unreadable.

Suddenly, the door to the OR opened, and another surgeon stood in the frame, “Dr. Emery, do you have a spare set of hands?”

“Take Dr. Lahela,” Harper jerked her head over to him, “He’s done some excellent work today.”

Bryce gave Jordynne a quick wink, as he threw away his gloves and headed towards the next OR. “I’ll see you in a bit, Jordy.”

Emery continued to instruct Jordynne as they finished closing Rafael back up — the room returning to silence as they worked. Jordynne could feel anxiety creeping up again — suddenly very aware of being completely alone with Chief Emery.

“I know you did it, Holland.” Harper broke the silence.

Jordynne looked up, meeting her dark eyes — doing her best to keep her face neutral.

“And what’s more, I know why you did it. Mrs. Martinez was a wonderful woman. If I’d met her when I was young and idealistic, I’d have been tempted to break the rules for her, too.”

She looked up at her, her mind whirling — but said nothing.

Emery let out a sigh at Jordynne’s silence, “I know you want to save everyone. Many doctors do. I did once before I was an administrator. But since I’ve grown familiar with the realities of this life. And the reality is that you can’t. I regret that you’re learning that lesson the hard way.” She gave her head a shake.

Jordynne gulped before speaking, “I heard there was no evidence it happened.”

Putting down the suture tool on the tray, she didn’t look up to her as she spoke, “There’s always evidence. And I will find it.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “You want me gone that badly?”

“No. I wanted to see you build on your potential and become a great doctor. But it’s too late for that. And I call I can do is use your mistakes to show your fellow doctors that rules exist for a reason and that every decision has a cost. Unfortunately, your decision is one that may cost you your future…” Taking off her rubber gloves, Harper headed over to the sink, “We’re done in here, you can scrub down.”

Taking a large gulp, Jordynne did as she was told.

_______________________________________________________________________

Leaning up against the hallway wall, Jordynne put her head back and closed her eyes. She was back in her another pair of blue scrubs — cleaned up from the surgery. She was just around the corner from Rafael’s room — taking a breather.

She had just had her hands inside another human — no, not just another human, her friend. Relief had washed over her once they said the surgery was successful and he would be okay. But the anxiety had crept back up as she waited for him to awake.

God, what a day.

Digging in her pocket, she pulled out her phone. Her eyes raked through her notifications — mom, dad, Jason, Kenzie, roommate group chat (minus Landry)… But no Ethan.

Chewing her lip, she clicked on his name once more and put the phone to her ear.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey, you know what to do.

Jordynne let out a long breath, not bothering to say hi or her name. “I’m really torn between wanting to talk to you so badly and wanting to get over you. Maybe if I — no, if I heard your voice it would probably just make things worse. I like the sound of your voice so much, I hate it.

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Ethan. I— I really needed you today. And I know a good doctor wouldn’t admit that, and I need to do this on my own. And I needed you as more than just a mentor. I really, really hope you’re okay Ethan. ‘Cause I’m not.” Her voice broke.

She trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing as she closed her eyes, “I don’t mean to put that on you. I know — I know you have enough going on. I’ll stop — Just don’t do anything stupid. Please.”

Ending the call, she felt a hot tear run down her cheeks as she shoved the phone back in her pocket. And all at once, she felt so alone. And it had nothing to do with the empty hallway.

_______________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the hospital was finally calm — the hallways no longer filled with lingering families and patients without beds. Jordynne was perched awkwardly in the chair next to Rafael’s bed — her knees pulled up to her chest and head resting on her shoulder. Her green eyes were fluttering as she fought off sleep.

“Unhhh,” The sound caused her to sit up. Opening her eyes wider, she noticed Rafael stirring.

“Raf! You’re awake!” She moved her legs back down, pulling her chair closer to his bed.

“Mmff…,” He blinked slowly, “I think… so? Jordynne?”

She grabbed onto his tan hand, a rush of relief waving over her to see his eyes open.

“Yeah, it’s me.” A small smile spread across her face, “Do you remember what happened?”

His dark brow furrowed, “I was at work? There was a subway… subway thing?” Looking down at his bandages, he spoke again, “I guess I was hurt?”

“Yeah. You saved a young girl’s life.”

A weak smile spread across his face. “Is she okay?”

Jordynne nodded, “A twisted ankle, and a few scratches. She’s back with her dad. She’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Confusion spread across his face as he felt the bandages on his torso again, “Did — did I have surgery?”

“You had major surgery. And surgical was short-staffed, so I had to help.” She grimaced, remembering the sensation of feeling his appendix with her own hands.

“Hold on. You mean you were, uh… in here?” He gestured to his bandages, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Wrist deep, actually.” She pursed her lips and scrunched her nose.

A laugh escaped him before he winced and grabbed his stomach, “Well, that’s intimate.”

She rolled her eyes, “Bryce was there too if that does it for you. But don’t laugh. You’ll pop a stitch.”

The room turned quiet, and Jordynne stared down into her hands, “I keep thinking about how your face looked when you came in…” Tears welled up in her mind as images of him first being rolled into the E.R. and the surgery flashed into her mind. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

A line formed in-between his brows, “What? My job?”

She shook her head at him, “It’s not your job to die for your patients.”

“But it is my job to save them.” He said matter of factly.

Letting out a sigh, she repeated the advice Ethan had given her. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I didn’t at least try. And I know you’re the same — I know what you’re like with your patients.” He grabbed onto her hand tighter, gripping her fingers.

“I don’t put my life at risk Raf. What if trying kills you?” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she did her best to keep them from falling.

His dark eyes noticed the tears forming, and he gave her a sad smile, “Then I’ll die well. I am who I am, Jordy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she looked over her shoulder and noticed Bryce through the window. He waved through the glass, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

Rafael noticed Bryce and beckoned him in.

Taking her hand away from him, Jordynne stood up just as Bryce entered the room.

“Hey, bud. How are you feeling?” Bryce asked, his voice more quiet than usual.

“Good, all things considered.” He pointed down at his bandages, “Jordynne told me that you had a lot to do with this. So, thank you.”

“Now I can tell people I saved Superman.” He flashed him a smile, before turning over to Jordynne. “Do you mind if I steal your doting Doctor away?”

Licking his lips, Rafael nodded. “Of course.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Jordynne said, grabbing onto the edge of the door and heading out with Bryce into the hallway. The lights were dimmed down — she could see the downtown lights of Boston through the window at the end of the hall.

“Hey.” Bryce breathed out, catching her eye finally.

“Hey.” She met his eye, studying his face, “You look exhausted. Have you been in surgery this whole time?”

He let out a breathy laugh, flashing her a smile, “I’ve been on three more since I saw you last. Today’s been — insane.”

“It sure has,” She rubbed at her face — not able to match his energy.

“Hey, don’t worry. I looked over Rafael’s vitals… he’s doing great. Barring any complications, he’ll make a full recovery. Superman’ll be back throwing himself into burning buildings and saving kittens from trees in no time.”’

Wrapping her arms around her torso, she looked down at the ground, “That’s great news, Bryce.”

“Man, talking about looking exhausted.” He eyed the dark circles under her eyes, “When did your shift end?”

Looking down at her smartwatch, she heaved out a sigh, “Two hours ago?”

“Yeah, mine too. You should head home.” He rubbed her shoulder.

“I’m not sure I want to do that…”

He nodded in understanding, “Then let’s get outta here and find something fun to do. With everything that’s been going on, I know I could blow off some steam. I’m guessing you could too.”

She chewed her pink lip, “Today has been pretty stressful…”

“And I know just the cure for that.”

Jordynne raised her eyebrow, questioning.

“It doesn’t have to be that. Unless you want it to be.”

Jordynne didn’t know how to reply — her mind already whirling from the day, never mind with the complex situation that had arisen between the pair of them. She hugged her torso a little tighter.

Looping his arm around her, he started pulling her down the hallway, “Come on, I know exactly what you need.”

Ten minutes later, she found herself sitting outside of a small restaurant on cheap patio furniture. She was picking at the large plate of cheese fries sat between the two of them.

“Elijah told me about Landry. I really didn’t have him pegged as that kind of guy.” Bryce said as he put a large fry in his mouth.

Jordynne played with the straw of her drink, not looking up, “Me neither.”

He shook his head, his blonde highlights falling over his face, “What kind of person can just lie like that?” His face twisted in disgust.

“… Me?” Jordynne said, her voice cracking. Looking back down at the table, she started chewing the inside of her lip harder than before.

His eyebrow’s furrowed in confusion, “What? No way! You’re lying to protect yourself!”

She shrugged, “Maybe he was, too.”

She finally caught his eye — his golden-brown eyes were crinkled with worry. “Well, I was trying to make you feel better, and I can see I’ve done a terrible job.”

“No, Bryce, you’re great.” She sighed, feeling guilty, “I just wish I knew if I was going to survive this investigation. All of this waiting and dreading… it’s killing me.”

He pushed the plate of food in between them away and grabbed her hand, “You will. I know you will.”

“Bryce… this is a situation where confidence won’t help me.”

His fingers gripped onto hers tighter, and flashed her his megawatt smile, “Sorry, confidence is pretty much all I have on tap.”

Her mouth twitched, “If I get through this with my career intact … and that’s a big if… I’m gonna play by the rules from now on.”

His touch on her loosened, and he looked taken aback, “You don’t mean that, do you?”

“Absolutely, if it means I get to keep being a doctor.” She nodded.

“But fighting for what’s right is what makes you a great doctor.” His voice got louder, more passionate, “Mrs. Martinez wouldn’t want you to change or surrender. She’d want you to keep helping people stuck in the system.”

Jordynne’s green eyes locked with his brown ones — they had turned dark and intense. He hesitated for a moment, before leaning across the table and kissing her lightly on the mouth. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that anymore…”

She bit her lip, “Me neither.” Looking down at her hands, she spoke quietly, “Thank you for believing in me.”

“I just don’t want you to stop being yourself.” His knuckles stroked the back of her hand.

The pair ate in silence again — the only sound was the cars rolling by and the soft music from inside the restaurant was all that could be heard.

“Have you heard from Ramsey?” Bryce asked breaking the silence, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“No. And at this point I really don’t think I will.” She put down her fork, before looking up and giving him a sad smile. Suddenly, she had completely lost her appetite.

“You’re not going to go home tonight, are you?”

She shook her head — her blonde hair moving wildly, “I’m going to head back to the hospital and see how Rafael’s doing.”

“Let me walk you back?” He offered, grabbing onto the back of his chair and helping her up.

The pair walked back Edenbrook in silence — Jordynne was unsure if it was comfortable or not. She wasn’t very sure of anything right now.

Outside the hospital entrance, Bryce hugged her tightly at the hospital entrance, “Just make sure you get some sleep sometime tonight too, okay?”

She gave him a small smile, “I’ll try.”

______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne did her best to keep her promise.

She was propped up on the chair in Rafael’s room — the flickering, blue light of the television flashing over the pair. Her sweater was thrown over her torso to keep her warm — her feet thrown over the armrests.

Raf was long passed out now — his face peaceful as he rested on the white hospital bed. His hand was dangling off the side — having fallen asleep holding her hand, watching the TV.

Her eyes flickered open once again — blurry from exhaustion. She was stiff — from sleeping in the chair and being on her feet all day. A tension headache was building in her neck and behind her ears.

Her mind was reeling again. She was thinking about what Bryce had said. And Rafael. And Chief Emery.

She didn’t regret what she had done for Mrs. Martinez. She didn’t. Would she do it again? What would be the cost?

Getting out of the chair as quietly as possible, Jordynne tip-toed out of the room.

Danny gave her a small smile from the nurse’s station — a phone glued to his ear and wedged between his head and shoulder.

She gave him a nod, ducking her head as she tried to avoid anyone else still working the night shift. Finding the secluded corner in the stairwell from before, she slumped down against the cold wall.

She fumbled through her contacts once again — putting the phone to her ear as she listened to the ringing.

Her heart leaped as it picked up, and she heard a quiet voice, “Hello?”

“Dad?” Jordynne croaked out, his voice breaking.

“Kiddo?” Her dad said groggily. “Hold on, one sec.” There was a sound of shuffling, before he came back, “Hey, everything okay?”

“I’m sorry I woke you... I — I wasn’t thinking,” She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“That’s okay, kiddo. What’s going on?”

She let out a sigh, “I don’t know...”

“I saw what happened on the news with the subway — your mom said that you were okay.”

She gulped, “I may have lied... I’m not okay.”

“What’s wrong, Jordy?” Her dad asked — his voice attentive.

A sob escaped her, and she heard him take a sharp breath at the sound. “I—I’m under investigation at the hospital. One of my patients -she, she died.” She finally got out.

“Did you do something wrong?” She could hear the frown on his face.

She sniffed, trying to calm down, “Technically? Yes. Morally? No.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Yes.” She answered quickly. She hadn’t meant it when she told Bryce she would just play by the rules — that wasn’t her. She didn’t regret what she did.

And she was sick of hiding and sulking around the hospital like she did.

“Then you have your answer, Kiddo.” He took a deep breath, “What are our rules?”

She wiped at the tears streaking her cheeks, reciting them, “Do the right thing. Do the best you can. And always show people you care.”

“They applied when you are six and they still apply when you’re twenty-seven.” He let out a soft laugh, before turning serious again, “You have a such a good heart. You always have.”

“Thanks, dad.” She closed her eyes for a moment — envisioning him and her mom and their family home in her mind, “I really miss you.”

“I miss you too.” He let out a yawn, “Love you kid.”

“Love you too,” She mumbled, before ending the call.

She stares at the blank screen for a moment longer before pushing herself off of the cold, contents floor.

Tightening her ponytail, Jordynne marched down the hallway towards the elevator.

She knew what she had to do.

_______________________________________________________________________

A weird wet sensation caused Ethan to stir awake. Looking down, he realized that Jenner was licking his hand.

Swallowing hard, Ethan forced himself to open his eyes — even the sunlight coming in from the next room was enough to cause excruciating pain. His last few days of “coping” has finally caught up to him — and his head-splitting migraine was making him recall just how many glasses of scotch he had actually had.

Stumbling out of his bed, he kicked at the white sheets tangled around his bare ankles before making his way to the bedroom door.

Like a zombie, he padded his way into the kitchenette in the beach house and prayed he had coffee somewhere in the cabinets. He let out a sigh of relief as he found a rolled-up bag of grounds and began to pour it into the coffee maker.

Grabbing the remote for the TV off of the counter, Ethan lazily turned it on — standing behind the island in only his boxers. He rubbed at his sore back and neck — lazily scrolling through the channels with no sound on.

He heard the satisfying sound of the coffee beginning to pour through the filter from behind him. His eyebrows furrowed as he came across the news — images of Boston, ambulances, and EMT. He recognized the street instantly — it wasn’t too far from the Edenbrook.

Fumbling with the remote, he turned on the sound and he heard the news anchors voice fill the living room. “Early yesterday afternoon, a red line subway derailed crashing into the —“

He didn’t hear any of the other words the anchor was saying — his heart pounding in his ears drowned her out. Heat spread across his neck, his chest tightening. He stood dumbfounded for a moment — watching the video capture of EMTs and firefighters running around the scene.

“Authorities have reported that there are over one hundred injured, with several in critical care. There have been no reported deaths from this incident. City officials are sure unsure of what causes the derail — but the investigation is still ongoing.”

With wild eyes, Ethan scrambled around looking for his cellphone. When he found it, he clutched onto it failing to put in his password several times. Finally getting in, Ethan scrolled through the countless notifications — missed calls, texts, voicemails from Edenbrook’s reception, Naveen, Harper, Jordynne...

It was five in the morning, he shouldn’t call them. Especially those still employed at Edenbrook — they probably only went to bed a few hours ago. He knew what that day would be like that — he had had too many of those days.

But Jordynne hadn’t. Her first triage and he had left her high and dry. Instead, he was drunk on the beach in Cape Cod. He ground his molars together despising himself — that was the point of all of this wasn’t it? That he couldn’t help her anymore. He wasn’t what she thought he was.

Putting the phone to his ear, he quickly went through his voicemails — most of them were pleas from the hospital and Emery asking for him to come in. He quickly deleted them, not being able to stand the desperation in their voices. But one voice made him stop.

“Ethan, it’s Jordynne. I know you’re not answering your calls or texts and you’re probably already deep into like your third bottle of scotch by now… But there was a really bad accident on the subway, and I know Ethan Ramsey would never take the subway in his life, and I overheard Chief Emery say you were out of town but I just really need to know if you’re okay. Please. Tell anyone... it doesn’t have to be me. Please, Ethan.”

Ethan gulped, shutting his eyes. She knew him too well.

“I’m really torn between wanting to talk to you so badly and wanting to get over you. Maybe if I — no, if I heard your voice it would probably just make things worse. I like the sound of your voice so much, I hate it. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Ethan. I— I really needed you today. And I know a good doctor wouldn’t admit that, and I need to do this on my own. And I needed you as more than just a mentor. I really, really hope you’re okay Ethan. ‘Cause I’m not.”

His heart twisted with guilt — filled with conflict. Chewing on the inside of his lip, he saved the messages and hesitated before clicking the next one. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another voicemail listening to Jordynne’s aching voice.

“Ethan...,” It was Harper’s voice this time — but unlike her other messages, she didn’t sound desperate or angry. She sounded exhausted. “I knew you wouldn’t answer. But I thought you should hear it from me — I suspended Dr. Holland. She admitted to administering the drug to Mrs. Martinez. We are having an ethics hearing — If doesn’t change anything, and you can’t do anything to change it. I just — I guess I just figured you would want to know.”

Staring blankly at the wall, Ethan processed what he had just heard. Suspended? She was being investigated? She hadn’t told him…

Feeling angry at himself, Ethan pulled his fingers into a tight fist. He hadn’t given her the chance to even tell him — he was being too selfish to even ask.

Stumbling into the bedroom, Ethan pulled on the first clothes he could find — crumbled up trousers and a well-worn sweater. Jenner jumped up at his sudden movement, suddenly on alert. He searched desperately for his car keys and wallet, the only things he had brought with him on his spur of the moment trip. Dumping his coffee into a travel mug, he grabbed water for Jenner before whistling for the dog to follow him out of the door.

Sitting in the leather seat of his Mercedes, Ethan took a giant swig of coffee, settled Jenner onto his lap and reversed the car out of the driveway of the beach house and towards Boston.

The bottles of scotch sitting in the house were long forgotten.

Next Chapter: Part Seventeen

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