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thran-duils · 4 years ago

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Lost In Your Current (P.4)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,057 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always Warnings for this chapter: Controlling behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You ventured out of the closet timidly as the smell of fresh food being cooked downstairs hit your nostrils. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, and you grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the guest bed to wrap yourself up in. You were still bare and even though there was slim chance anyone would be looking through the window, you still felt better with it on.

Sitting down at the table, you watched Tony work. He had sent a glance your way when you padded in, the blanket dragging along the ground as you walked.

It was quiet as he worked, and you sat patiently.

When he put the plate in front of you, your mouth practically watered. Grabbing the fork, you thanked him as you were already bringing a forkful up to your mouth. He took his plate and sat next to you. You slowed down, embarrassed about how much food you had already put away before he even had sat down.

“I’ll get you set up on the streaming accounts so you can watch things,” he started to say. “And if you tell me what books you want, I can have them ordered and delivered here.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, in between bites. You were just going to let him talk; you did not want to ask any questions just yet. You were still feeling him out; you had only been around him for a handful of days before you had fallen into your heat. There was still much to know about his personality, what was expected of you.

He saw you were almost finished, and he picked up his pace to finish his plate with you. As soon as the two of you were finished, he picked up the plates. In the process, his hand brushed over yours and your hair stood on end. There was a fleeting smirk from him – he had done it on purpose, testing you. He was scenting you again and seeing how you would react and you just stared at him, still, waiting to see if he was going to do it again. He gestured for you to give him the fork and you had barely noticed you were still holding it. You held it out and his fingers brushed yours again and you bit at your cheeks.

Tony was proving to also be testing the boundaries with you.

Dropping the plates in the sink, he turned back to you, “You need to shower. So do I. Come.”

You got up obediently, holding the blanket still tight around you. You followed him upstairs into the master bathroom and your eyes widened at the large tub. There was a waterfall shower in the corner, complete with what looked like jets for a massage, and a detachable shower head too.

Tony called out as he went to one of the tall cabinets, “FRIDAY, run the jacuzzi.”

The water in the tub began running, startling you. What the hell was FRIDAY? You should not be surprised about the technology in this cabin though, it was Tony’s after all.

Tony came back with body gel, shampoo, and conditioner, a brand you did not recognize. He placed them besides the tub as you asked, “Who’s FRIDAY?”

“The AI system that runs the house,” he answered. “I need to program her to respond to simple commands from you. Lights on, lights off, run the shower, you know, simple.”

His hands were on you as you stood staring at the bath filling up. He pulled the blanket from you, tossing it onto the floor a bit away. With you bare again, his hands fell to your sides, and your breath quickened. His fingers were gentle as they traced over your skin, dipping as your body curved. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you barely held back a soft moan. His scent was clouding you and you were acutely aware you were slipping under its influence. You tried to move away as it became too much but he stopped you firmly.

“Omega, I told you that you need to shower.”

“T-that’s a bath,” you pointed out weakly.

“That it is. Fine, you need to bathe. Is that better, love?”

“But—”

“Quiet, Omega,” Tony cut in impatiently and you felt compelled to follow his order, despite the anxiousness he was igniting with all his touching. He meant to bathe with you. And you were still coming down from your heat. He could stoke the fire again and maybe that is what he wanted to do. Alphas you had heard were notorious for squeezing as much out of an Omega during their heats. “Get into the tub. Leave me room.”

Sinking into the water, you held yourself close as the water turned off, the tub full. Tony pulled his boxers off and followed you in, settling down behind you.

He was gentle, using his hands to rub away at your shoulders and down your chest. You felt calmed with him washing away the remnants of the last few days away from you. Alpha was taking care of you like he should. And you could not deny a good scalp massage was sorely needed, further relaxing you.

Tony pulled you in between his legs and you leaned back against his chest. His fingers trailed down your stomach and to the apex of your sex. Relaxation dissolving in a moment, you clenched tight, and he sensed your tension. He only slipped a single finger in between your folds instead of the two that had been sliding down. You mewled and he kissed softly at your ear. The one finger circling your clit.

“Knees up, precious,” he ordered. You did as he asked, and he added a second finger, delving deeper.

Your pussy was sensitive after the last few days, but his touch set you alight, and you shuddered against his touch. Tony hummed in approval, caressing at your nub. You began rocking your hips, trying to increase the contact. Tony tsked you, nipping at your ear and you let out a disappointed whine. He was working you back up and you were just focused on getting more. You wanted him inside you.

“There are gonna be rules and you just need to follow them. You get to stay here. With me. Safe. Loved.” His free hand came up to touch your stomach. “Hopefully become round sooner rather than later…”

“Alpha…” the thought of that sending you even further down the spiral.

His fingers entered you and he kissed at your cheek, vowing in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

<><><>

The front porch creaked, and you thumbed the page of your book, calm, thinking it was Tony coming back inside. But then there were a second pair of footsteps and hushed tones. You froze. There was a loud knock on the front door, and you sat up in alarm. Your book dropped to the floor as you got up quickly. Who was here? No one had come here in the weeks you had been here. And Tony had not told you anyone was coming. The hair on your arms was on end at potential danger.

Thankfully, the blinds were drawn on the living room window. You could not go up the stairs though because that was by the front door and the person – whoever they were – would most certainly see you since the door was open, letting the fresh air come through the screen. Tony was outside getting the boat prepped. He was going to take you out on the lake with him while he fished.

Another loud knock came, and you hesitated. The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere. And if someone was knocking… that was a good sign, right? If someone meant harm, they would not take the time to knock.

Tony had told you specifically to not answer the door though.

But… you were curious. You had not seen anyone else for weeks. Your bond tugged at you, jostling deep inside as you turned back towards the door, considering to ignore your Alpha’s direct order. The bond was warning you to be good. But…

<><><>

Outside the cabin, Carol peered in through the window, scanning the front room.

She shrugged, looking back at Natasha. “There’s no one inside that I can see from this window.”

“Well, he’s obviously here if the door is open and his car is here.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs…?” Carol said, hinting at the bedroom activities they were sure Tony would be engaging Y/N in if he had not already.

Natasha exhaled sharply, turning from the door, and going back towards the stairs. She spotted the boat house and also the large shop on the property. He could be in there as well. She sure as hell was not going to be entering his cabin without his permission for fear he had not mated Y/N yet. Or if he had mated her and Y/N was pregnant. Even if she was Beta, he would be threatened by her presence, especially without being invited.

Just as she stepped onto the gravel, she heard Carol behind her say, “Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Natasha stopped on a dime and whirled around on her heel. “Remember me?”

There she was behind the screen door. She looked healthy enough, like she had been eating and drinking enough. But she was timid, not opening the screen door. She still wanted that barrier between her and Carol.

Y/N must have answered Carol, but so quiet Natasha could not hear as she approached because Carol asked, “That’s good. I hope I’m not forgettable. Where’s Tony?”

<><><>

You eyed Natasha as she came back up onto the wrap around porch and looked back at Carol, answering, “In the boathouse. He was getting it ready to take it out for lunch.”

Noticing that both of them had stolen a glance at your exposed shoulder, you shifted uncomfortably. You knew they had been seeing if you had been mated. That was apparent in your tank top; there was no hiding the mark at the base of your neck.

They both acted unperturbed by it though, carrying on with pleasantries.

“Tony fishing. That’s something I wouldn’t expect to be happening,” Natasha chimed in, giving a small smile. “But times have changed.” She looked over her shoulder towards the boat house and she asked you, “Mind if we go out there to talk to him?”

She was… asking you for permission?

You shrugged in response, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“You wanna come with us?” Carol offered. She was trying really hard to be friendly and gentle, and you appreciated it.

But you shook your head immediately, “I’m not allowed outside without Alpha.” You had already broken one of his rules by answering the door, there was no need to press your luck.

“Even on your own property?” Natasha asked before she could stop herself it seemed.

Carol gave her a vexed look, chastising her with her eyes. Natasha cleared her throat sheepishly before tossing another look to the boathouse. You knew it was silly and what she said was right. You wanted to go outside on your own, lay down in the grass. But Tony did not completely trust you on your own yet; you feared he never would, especially if you were pregnant. That would make him all the more overprotective.

“Well, looks like I won’t have to stretch my legs,” Natasha commented, and you peered between the pair of them trying to follow her gaze. “He’s coming to us.”

You could not see him, but you could sense him, the irritation rattling your bond. He was displeased and you could think of a handful of reasons why. You had hoped they would have gone to find him before he realized they were here but there were a lot of windows on the boathouse that had a clear view of the front porch.

“Tony,” Carol called out in greeting about the time you were able to see him coming up the path.

As he came up the stairs, Tony was staring you down and you sunk back into yourself.

Natasha and Carol could sense the tension and they both took a step back away from the door and subsequently away from you. The movement did not go unnoticed by him, his eyes following their shift.

“Tony, afternoon. We were just checking in to see how it was going. You know we have to,” Natasha told him calmly.

Tony’s stare was piercing you, and you averted your eyes, not wanting to challenge him with direct eye contact. “Well, it’s apparently not going without bumps. Y/N, I told you specifically to not answer the damn door!”

“I’m sorry,” you said timidly, flinching at him swearing at you.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re supposed to do what you’re told!” He snapped his fingers, pointing back behind you and ordered, “Go make lunch. Now!”

You refrained from mentioning that you had already done that, wanting to be ready whenever he came to fetch you to go out on the water. You left the door and decided you might as well make extra sandwiches for the two women to busy yourself and be hospitable.

<><><>

When Tony turned his attention back to Natasha and Carol after Y/N had retreated back into the cabin from view, he was met with a dispassionate look from Carol but Natasha on the other hand, she looked miffed.

“Can I help you with something?” Tony asked dryly.

“We’re here to check up.”

“And?”

“And… discuss something.”

Tony wagged his finger, “There’s always a catch. Well, lay it on me. And do it quick. Y/N and I are going out on the lake for lunch.”

Carol cut right to the chase, “There’s talk about either taking samples from Omega—” That already was setting Tony on edge, that was clear as day in his expression and tense body. “To try to figure out if there can be a cure given to people who should be able to have children and can’t.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately. His tone was firm.

“Or,” Carol continued ignoring his outburst. “They want to use Omegas as surrogates.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched at that, his eyes hard.

“There’s talk of it. High up in the government,” Natasha added. “Thought we would come talk to you about it.”

“For?” Tony spat. His brow pinched a split second before he gave them a belittling laugh. “Wait, did you two think I was going to agree to this? That’s what you wanted to come ‘talk to’ me about? Giving Y/N up to the government?”

“You won’t be giving her up—”

Tony cut in forcibly, “This is not even a conversation. I don’t know what two think you’re playing at.”

Natasha countered quickly, “You always were advocating for protecting Earth.”

“And it is protected. What’s not protected here?”

“Tony.”

“What? We took a stance and we got royally railed. Bent all the way over the table. I almost died in space. Did you forget that?”

“No, I didn’t for—”

“So many people died. Just… disappeared out of existence! Blink of an eye. Well, Thanos got what he wanted and he’s dead now! Earth is going on and there are no more threats from up above. Everyone’s too busy reeling with what happened themselves on their own planets to even care about trying to come here. No, we’re doing fine. I mean, maybe the US government isn’t doing fine which is no new news there. But we are fine”

Carol tried to persuade him now, “We aren’t fine. People are grieving everywhere, and people want to be able to have children again to bring some sense of happiness into their lives and they can’t. So—"

“You’re not taking her,” Tony spat defensively.

“I’m not asking to do that,” Carol said, standing her ground despite Tony’s aggressive stance and the wild look in his eyes.

“Then what is it you’re asking?” Tony asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Cause that’s sure as hell what it sounds like.”

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility in the future—”

“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen,” Tony declared, cutting her off.

“I thought you were insufferable before,” Natasha scoffed, completely done with how quickly he had become pugnacious at the mere mention of anyone else laying a finger on Y/N.

Tony fixated his death glare on her now and sneered, “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Carol cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we’ll leave.” She almost turned but implored him once more, “Just keep that on your mind that it’s being spoken about in the government.”

“So, maybe you should do it on your own accord, Tony, before someone forces you to. Because I know how much you love being told what to do,” Natasha quipped coldly as she did begin to walk off. Carol followed her.

“Tell me. Did Cap agree to it?” Tony called out after them, taunting. Natasha and Carol both refused to answer which was answer enough and Tony let out a wry laugh. “That’s what I thought. You two are nuts.”

Natasha slammed the car door so hard, Carol was worried it was going to fall off when she tried to open it to get out. Natasha glared at Tony through the windshield. He was still standing on the porch, pacing slowly, eyes right back on her. He was making sure they were really going to leave.

Shaking her head, Carol turned the car on and said disappointed, “I thought this would be easier.”

“I didn’t. I expected to want to knock his head off his shoulders. Just like Steve. And any other Alpha we are going to talk to about it. It’s going to be futile to convince any of them to let their Omega carry another person’s child.”

“Well, let’s hope we find others that are more open. Because I don’t want this becoming a mandated thing from the government. Things will really get ugly then. I’ve read Handmaid’s Tale,” Carol sighed as she backed out of the driveway.

Tony and Natasha kept eyes on each other until Carol turned the car around and started driving back down the long driveway towards the main road.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

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Impulse: Part 1 (Javier Pena x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: My first ever Javi fic, of course I had to make it the angstiest thing I’ve written in a long time!! This is part one of the first part of the story which is also the end of the story... just had to make it confusing for you.

Disclaimer: I do not have any experience with cocaine or addiction, all writing is based on my own research and is not a good representation of how it really is! Don’t do coke kids, it’s never good.

Part 2

---

Four in the morning, the sun was just above the horizon and you were stumbling home from yet another party. Enough tequila swam through your system that you didn’t really think about the wellbeing of your neighbor when you tapped on his door. You wanted to keep going. Javier, you decided, would make the perfect company. And maybe you could continue that kiss you had not stopped thinking about since it happened four months ago! You grinned devilishly at the thought and knocked harder on the door.

“Javi! Javier!” You rapped on the door. “Javier Peña, abra la puerta!” You sang, leaning all your weight on the door as your world span fast around you, “Javi,”

“What?” Javier opened the door suddenly, causing you to fall into him. You laughed as you caught yourself on his arm. You had woken him up, he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants with his hair bushy and wild.

“Hola!” You grinned up at him, not hiding the way you checked him out. You were obviously drunk and high, eyes red and shining brightly even in the dim light of the apartment block hallway. Javi wrinkled his nose as the smell of you hitting him, tequila and cigar smoke clung to you.

“Again?” Javi sighed heavily. This was the third time this week you had woken him up, accidentally or on purpose, coming home drunk. He was starting to worry about you.

“Si,” You grinned from ear to ear, You were in more of a state than last time. For one you were still speaking Spanish, something Javi had rarely ever heard you speak. You must have been with your local friends, he surmised. “No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido!”

“It’s not fun, you’re a mess. Get in here,” He pulled you by the arm into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“Eres enojado?” You asked, still grinning. You walked backwards into his apartment, tripping down the step and landing with a thud on his leather couch. You cackled with laughter.Javier frowned and put his hands on his hips, of course he was annoyed at you! It was four in the morning and you both had work the next morning. You dramatically flopped back on his couch and huffed at his grumpy attitude, “It’s only polite, Javi! They gave it to me!”

“It’s poison!! He exclaimed, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“It’s helping,” You proclaimed.

“It’s not helping anyone, you’re gunna fuck up sooner or later.” Javi warned, as he had done many times before.

“I got that list,” You protested, “That was helpful!”

“And what will you do when they work out that you stole it?”

“No lo sé,” You shrugged. You reached into your pocket and grabbed the last of the coke you had been given. You wanted a little more. You pulled the tin out of your pocket and placed it on the coffee table at your feet.

“You-,” Javi started before he noticed what you were doing, instantly he was on you, “Para!” He exclaimed as he snatched the coke from your hand before you had time to open it.

“Necesito!” You whined, pouting at him. You were lying, you didn’t need it. You wanted it, a lot.

“No,” Javi snapped.

“Lo siento, Javi,” You pleaded with him, eyes locked onto the packet in his hand.

“You’re not though, are you? Fucking look at me!” He yelled. You startled and looked up at him as tears pricked your eyes. “Quit it. Now. You know what this shit does, stop it. Whatever you think you’re doing is not worth it, okay?”

“Pero-“

“No. Me vale!” He cut you off. “You’re better than this, Y/n,”

You sustained eye contact for a moment. The room was deathly quiet, he glared at you with fierce intensity. You had never seen him so angry, if you weren’t so drunk you would have instantly buckled under the pressure. The only thing your drunk brain could think of was how hot he looked, you wondered how rough he would be with you if he was this angry. You couldn’t help the snigger that crept up in your throat at that thought. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the laugh, Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You laughed, “It’s just you can’t look at me like that and not fuck me!”

“Jesus christ,” Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. What little patience he had for you was running out fast. You continued to laugh.

“Can I stay here?” You asked.

“Take the couch,” Javi waved you off, his back turned heading back to his bedroom.

“I can’t sleep with you?” Your voice was laced with innuendo, he knew what you wanted. A part of him was tempted, your dress left very little to the imagination, but he knew he couldn’t do it.

“You’re drunk and high,” Javier said plainly, “and we’ve spoken about this before. No,” He was firm with you. He hated having to reject you for a second time but he wasn’t a complete monster. He wouldn’t sleep with you in this state.

“Worth a try,” You laughed, thankfully giving up quickly. Javi shook his head and walked away again, “Muchos gracias, Javi,” You called after him. He shut the door.

You woke up as the early morning sunlight pushed through the windows. You groaned and turned over, finding you were not in your bed but on a couch. Startled, you sat up and nearly screamed when you recognised the apartment as Javier’s. Luckily you were still fully dressed with your shoes still on, nothing had happened. Memories of how you got there were blurry, you remembered knocking on his door but had blacked out after that.

The clock on the wall said it was six am. You could go upstairs to your own bed clean up and hope that maybe Javi wouldn’t hear you and confront you about it.

You stood up from the couch, trying not to think about all the things the man had done on it, and grabbed your jacket from the ground. As you stood up the strength of your hangover kicked in, you grumbled. That was when you noticed the discarded coke packet on the counter. You stopped. You knew you shouldn’t pick it up, you didn’t need it. But the taste caught at the back of your throat and you found yourself wanting it. It was undeniably addictive, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t take it this far but the foul substance had made its bed.

“Go home,” Javi’s voice broke you out of the trance. He was only wearing sweatpants, hair mussed up from sleep that you had most definitely disturbed more than once. He pulled the cocaine off the table and threw it into the trash before you could reach it. You gulped, shame rising like hot steam through your lungs. You grabbed your things and left, running straight upstairs to your own apartment.

It was still early but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep again. Shame was swirling up in your throat. How ironic that a DEA agent was addicted to the thing she was meant to be stopping? But you weren’t addicted, you reasoned with yourself, you were fine. This was no different to when you lived off Redbull for a month during finals, it was a matter of changing some coping mechanisms. It was a reaction to the stress of being so close to Escobar yet so still so far. You could change it, you had control.

You made a coffee, instant and black. It was bitter and disgusting but it would keep you awake. You collapsed onto your tired old couch and flicked on the tv to a telenovela rerun. You barely understood what was going on but the hilarious overplayed drama was light enough to stop you swimming into the depressing pool of thoughts currently threatening to drown you.

Eight o’clock came and you were ready to go to work. You were used to this routine now, hungover and tired, you knew you weren’t at your best but until this morning nobody knew about your slow descent into chaos. You weren’t surprised to find Javi’s truck gone without you. All you could remember from last night as how mad he was, and his face this morning only proved it. You dreaded seeing him.

Luckily, you were spared the hassle of public transport by Steve who trundled down the stairs after you and offered you a ride. The conversation was light and everything seemed normal for a moment. You got to work, Steve ran off after a call from Javier leaving you with a mountain of paperwork to hunt through. For once you didn’t care, paperwork didn’t judge you.

A few hours passed and the boys returned. You did your best to ignore them while they bickered, hoping that you could melt into the background, until someone tapped on your desk.

“Hey, I’m talking to you Rookie,” Javi’s voice made you look up. “Come on, we’re going,”

Before you could say anything he threw your jacket at you and you had no choice but to follow him outside. You tried to rack your brain for why Javi would be taking you anywhere today, especially after this morning. You had expected him to ground you, to be impossibly angry at you, not take you out. You climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and Javi didn’t say a word. He didn’t look particularly angry, he looked stressed but he had looked like that since the day you got down here. He was silent, letting the radio play between you, when all of a sudden he reached over and turned it off.

You looked over at him, expecting him to start his lecture but he didn’t. He let the silence sit between you for the rest of the journey. Somehow it was worse, you’d rather he got mad at you and shouted. It was just unsettling.

Finally you pulled into the embassy, you flashed your badges at the gate and parked. Fear was starting to grow now. Was he going to get you fired? He wouldn’t bring you down here for that surely? He would have called and said what he wanted, he hated coming down here unless he had to. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask, and followed him inside.

Javi greeted the assistant at the door, as smooth as ever somehow managing to melt her in her chair in five seconds. You smiled and waved to her, she scowled at you as soon as Javi had turned his back.

“He’ll be in a minute,” The girl called after you as you entered the Ambassador’s office. You took one chair, Javier took the other, in front of the large mahogany desk.

Unlike Steve and Javi you didn’t see the ambassador often, often left in the office while they had meetings about things higher than your post. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you thought it might burst. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and fidgeted in your seat. Why in hell were you here?

Before you could bring up the courage to finally ask Javi the Ambassador walking into the room. You stood up immediately to shake his hand, Javi stayed seated.

“Y/n, nice to see you again,” The ambassador smiled kindly as he shook your hand. “Agent Peña,” He greeted the agent next to you, who nodded casually.

“You too, Sir,” You tried your best to sound confident. The Ambassador sighed heavily as he sat in the leather chair, took a sip of the water at his side and began the meeting.

“So, I got the call from your coordinators this morning, they’re coming down on Monday for the review. I thought we should have this meeting together to discuss things before they come down,”

Your six month review! That was what you had forgotten. Half relieved that your mentor hadn’t brought you down here to completely humiliate you, you smiled and nodded. With everything going on you hadn’t noticed the months fly past so fast, you barely remembered what day it was anymore.

The Ambassador carried on with the meeting, unaware of your panicking. You nodded along, answering his questions in short yes or no answers, he then moved to Javier. As your mentor he was the one in charge of delivering your progress onto your coordinators. You watched him speak, sound not registering anymore. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t throw you under the bus and tell the entire truth, he knew how much this meant to you surely he wouldn’t.

Nervous, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. You almost had a heart attack when you felt something inside. A small metal tin, rounded and rusted. You immediately knew what it was and froze. There was coke in your pocket. Javi gave you a sideways glance, as he noticed you stiffen up suddenly.

You wracked your mind for where the hell the tin had come from, until you remembered. This wasn’t your jacket, Maria had given it to you a few months ago and never asked for it back. You hadn’t worn it before today and had no idea that your friend’s stash lay inside the pockets. You tried to stay rational, tried to listen to the important conversation happening around you but your hand stayed clamped around the drug in your pocket. It would help you concentrate, it could calm you down. You could take it and nobody would notice.

“I- I’m sorry can you excuse me for a moment?” You blurted out, interrupting the ambassador. He frowned at you, surprised by your interruption. You had gone white with panic, obviously clutching at something in your pocket but he didn’t think anything of it. He nodded and you ran out the room before he could verbally release you.

You tried to remain calm as you ran through the halls of the embassy, it seemed like everyone was watching you. They knew exactly what you were doing, they were judging you. You ran into the first women’s bathroom you could find, quickly checked nobody was in any stalls, and locked the door behind you.

Throwing the package on the sink like it was burning through your hand, you stood over it, watching it intensely like it could jump away at any moment. The voice in your head kept tempting you, calling you weak and useless, to do it to get rid of it. Nobody would know if you took it. You’ve given in this far why not do it. It will help you calm down. Take it.

As if you were possessed, you unwillingly opened the tin and poured the powder onto the surface. There wasn’t much there, barely a pinch full, hardly anything at all. You couldn’t just leave it there now, someone would definitely know it was yours. They all knew why even bother hiding it anyway. You should take it. You were too weak to resist it. Take it.

And you did. The chemical shot straight to your brain giving you the brilliant feeling you had been missing. You sighed in a relief as you felt every anxiety fade from your body. It wasn’t that bad, you feel better with it, the voice in your head said. You weren’t wrong. You did feel better. You looked it too, your cheeks had colour again, you smiled and laughed to yourself as it took hold.

You brushed away the excess powder and unlocked the door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Javi leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, judging you with a cocked eyebrow. He had been waiting for you. You sighed and rolled your eyes immediately walking away from him.

“Don’t stand outside the women's bathroom’s Javi. It's creepy,” You snapped as you passed him.

“You missed a bit,” Javi commented, following closely behind you.

“Fuck off,” You grumbled. Despite yourself you wiped your sleeve over your nose. He was right.

“Shooting up in a bathroom is real low, Rookie, even for you,” He snarled. You continued walking down the hall, ignoring him. You were as angry at your actions as he was but you didn’t have control anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself, “Hey! I’m fucking talking to you,” Javi grabbed your arm and sharply pulled you backwards, pressing your back into the wall and trapping your body between his.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained, shoving him off you with as much force as you could give. It didn’t get you far as he pushed you to the wall again with as much force. Your back slammed against the cold stone hard, no doubt bruising it.

“Then listen. What the fuck is the matter with you?” He snarled, “Doing that shit here? Or anywhere in fact! You are completely out of control,” You ground your teeth, seething with anger, “Do you have no respect for yourself?” You struggled against him, trying to get away again to avoid the question, Javi held you in place. “Not going to say anything?” You looked away, purposely turning your cheek to him, “Get a fucking grip or I’m sending you home,” He growled.

You didn’t answer, staring at the patterned tile floor. Finally he gave up. With a grunt he let you go and stalked away down the corridor.

As he disappeared around the corner, a tidal wave of anger and frustration flooded your system. You kicked the line of chairs next to you, crying out curses as you sent them flying across the corridor. The metal clattered against the stone drawing people out of their offices, they all stood from their doorways and watched you, judging you. You heart hammered in your chest, chest heaving for air and you glared back at them all. You let out a deep breath and turned on your heel, leaving the mess behind you, and walked outside.

Despite himself, Javi had waited for you in the parking lot. You jumped into the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door hard to get your point across. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from anger or the drugs coursing through you. Neither of you said a word for the journey. Javi had said he needed to, and you weren’t able to string together a coherent sentence for everything you wanted to scream at him yet.

You were too focussed on the music playing from the stereo to really notice where you were going. The rhythms and lyrics seemed to float around you and soak into your skin. You didn’t see Javi’s furious scowl when you unknowingly started to dance in your seat, something you couldn’t help but do when listening to Columbian radio no matter your mental state. You were having a good time until the car stopped and the music was cut abruptly. Snapping out of your trance you looked around and realised you were at your apartment.

“Get out. You’re done for today,” Javi said, his voice was eerily calm and you knew to be terrified. Quiet Javi was always the angriest.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“Get out!” He leant over you and pushed the door open. You frowned, but slipped out the truck and did as you were told. Javi pulled the door shut behind you and rolled away, leaving you standing on the sidewalk opposite the apartment building completely dumbfounded.

You were stuck to the sidewalk, staring at the building. The sun beat down on you, scorching your skin yet you couldn’t feel it. You were numb to everything.

Your first thought was to find Maria and get more coke to hide further into yourself and avoid the awful shame creeping up your neck. The speed the thought entered your head petrified you. Your control was slipping through your fingers like sand and your body was screaming to move. Everything inside you told you to give up, that this was the tipping point and you might as well jump because what was the point in pretending anymore. If Javi knew what was the point in trying to cover up how much that narcotic had taken over your life. There was no point at all, you might as well enjoy the feeling whilst you could.

You turned to leave, letting go of all self control. Your legs knew where to take you, you didn’t even need to look where you were going. But you did, when three steps from your original position you crashed into a woman carrying a bag of groceries. She yelped, the sudden sound snapping you back to reality.

“What are you doing standing out here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connie startled you when she touched you, you had barely noticed her approaching. She frowned, concerned, when she took in your glazed appearance, “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” Your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes.

“Oh darling, come inside. Come on,” Connie walked across the road, expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You knew if you went inside you would have to tell her what was happening, you didn’t want to make her as mad as Javi was already. “Y/n? Sweetheart you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?”

“I fucked it all up,” You whimpered as you began to cry.

“Come with me, I’ll get you some water,” Connie bartered, still you didn’t move. Too scared to admit to her what was going on, “Just come inside, please,”

Finally, you nodded and followed Connie into the building. She walked you into the apartment, sat you on the couch and left to get a glass of water. You hadn’t stopped crying, everything in you was telling you to go and get more to calm yourself down again. You knew not to believe the thoughts but they scared you tremendously. You have really gone too far now.

Connie passed you the water, and you drank it gladly. She crouched down in front of you, pressed a hand to your forehead and checked your pulse trying to work out what was wrong with you.

“Did you take something?” She asked. You tried to shake your head and deny it but the way she’s looking at you, sternly but with so much care in her eyes, you couldn’t lie to her. Your no turns into a yes and you instantly recoil from her each touch, hiding in your hands. “What was it?”

“It was only meant to help,” You cried into your hands.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened,” She pressed.

“Maria gave me some coke, and it was fine and fun and it helped me get that list from them,” You started to babble, all your words tumbling from your mouth before you could get them into any sensible order, “and everyone was so excited and then I went out kept doing it and then yesterday I ended up at Javi’s and I was tired and-,”

“Slow down,”

“It’s my six month review, and I got so worried then I found it in my pocket! I didn’t know it was there and I just did it! Then Javi caught me again and he kicked me out here!”

“Do you know how much you took?”

“Like a tiny bit but I’ll be fine in an hour but-,” Tears slipped from your eyes once again, “What am I going to do?”

Connie didn’t know what to say. She knew you had been going out more with some new friends, Steve had complained because he was always woken up by you when you came back drunk from a party. That's all she thought was going on, you were partying, drinking, like you should at your age. But as she had come to learn, a lot of things in Columbia were not what they seemed. It seemed the darker side of life here had managed to get it’s claws well and truly into you. It broke her heart to see you like this, so broken up.

You stayed with Connie for the rest of the afternoon, sat on the couch riding out the end of you high. TV kept you company and Connie chewed her nails trying to work out what to do. She thought should call Steve, but if Javier was the one to drop you off here, he probably already knew. She wondered how long it had been going on for, she didn’t get to see you as much as her husband and his partner, whenever she’d seen you you seemed fine, if a little hungover at times. When she thought about, all three of you had taken on destructive habits to cope with the hell you saw every day. Steve was becoming more aggressive by the week, while she knew she was safe she didn’t like what she saw when he flipped out. Everyone in the building knew about Javier’s escapades and now you. It was upsetting to watch from the outside, she couldn’t imagine what it was really like to go through.

You woke up half an hour later, muddled and more tired than when you’d fallen asleep.

“Feeling better?” Connie asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Feel like shit,” You muttered. Your head pounded and the heaviness still sat in your chest. That was the kicker, the coke could mask feelings very well but every time you sobered up they were still there waiting. You sighed heavily, pushing yourself to sit up where you’d slumped over, and rubbed your face with your sweaty palms. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know sweetie, but I’ll be here to help you,” Connie said kindly, as she sat on the couch next to you. You felt awful for dragging her into all this, yet another person you had let down, ”I think you should tell your boss? Or you’re coordinators, maybe they’ll help,”

“I’ll be sent home!” You protested, tears filling your eyes once again, “I don’t want to go home, not now!”

“You can’t keep it to yourself, it will only get worse,” She said, you nodded sadly and cried on her shoulder as she pulled you in for a hug. “I suggest a hot bath, watch some cheesy movie- I managed to find that Indiana Jones movie on tape. I know you love Harrison Ford,”

“That sounds nice,” You smiled weakly. Connie let you go and grabbed the movie along with a bottle of wine for you. You gathered yourself together, enough to get yourself from Connie’s couch to your own at least.

“I’m sure Steve won’t notice it’s gone. Go and chill out and watch the movie, have a bit of normality for a change. You’ll feel better I promise,”

“Thank you Connie, you’re a really good friend,”

“It’s no problem sweetie, like I said I’m always here for you,”

Connie gave you another tight squeeze before you left. Iin the hallway you heard the clatter of Javi’s keys in his door below. You wanted to apologise to him, you wanted him to help you! You wanted things to go back to how they were before all this but you knew Javi wouldn’t talk to you. He’d displayed his distaste for the people that fell under the powder’s spell before, he wasn’t going to help. He had trusted you to sort it out yourself but now it was abundantly clear you couldn’t.

Once again your brain reminded you how easy it would be to get some more coke to cheer yourself up. You could go downstairs and walk down the street, find one of your friends and be happy again so quickly. You didn’t have to feel this pain.

This time, you ignored it and locked yourself in your apartment. You took yourself to bed immediately, not even bothering to turn on any lights along the journey through the tiny space. You fell on the bed face first. As soon as your body hit the soft material you curled up as tight as you could and began to cry.

You had failed. You had let your team down, let your coordinators down, let your classmates down and let your family down. You didn’t even want to think about the conversation you would have to have with your mom as to why you were coming home six months early from a placement you fought so hard to get. You thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You failed.

Part 2

Translations (disclaimer I'm sorry if these are wrong I've been learning Spanish for all of 3 months hence the limited use)

Abra la puerta - open the door

No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido! - I’m not sorry Javi, it’s fun!

Eres enojado - are you angry?

No lo sé - I don’t know

Para!- stop!

Lo siento- I’m sorry

Pero- but

Me vale - I don’t care

The next part will be out next Friday! Want to get tagged? Let me know!

Tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @browneyes-djarin @themidnightsun-12

gunna be cheeky and tag some mutuals i think may be interested? @ithinkwehitametaphor @wille-zarr

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whiteknightinblackarmor · 3 years ago

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Some thoughts on Qi Ye since I’ve finished it. It’s two parts and a little long, I was just jotting down my rambling thoughts as I read.

I really like the way jby/Wuxi relationship is written.

I’m closing in on the end here, less than 200 pages to go. They’re not even in a relationship yet, but Priest writes their complex dynamic so well. I read TYK first and it was similar. Like jby, I didn’t see any inclination for romance coming from zzs. For a good part of both books the romance almost seems one sided. And both have valid reasons for feeling that way.

We have Wuxi, who is so genuine and sincere and straightforward and stubborn. Then we have jby who is constantly scheming and manipulating and planning his next move. In a way they really balance each other out. Wuxi just wants to take jby away from all of the scheming and messy politics and give whatever life of luxury he is able to. Jby keeps rejecting Wuxi, and I can’t even be mad about it because considering his history it’s completely understandable. But it’s a history he’s unable to tell Wuxi, so Wuxi is just left confused and wondering why he’s not good enough. Despite his history, jby still has a soft heart and can never bear to let him down completely, so this dancing back and forth continues with jby seeming to leave Wuxi hanging in hopes that his feelings will fade with time. I don’t know, it’s just messy and complicated and the emotions they experienced are written so realistically.

Ok update because I never went back to post this and now I’ve finished the book.

It got a little tense in the end but things worked out for the most part lol. I was waiting for jby to have a moment of clarity where he finally sees Wu Xi as an adult and potential partner. It didn’t quite happen that way, it was more of a slow realization, hints that he was viewing Wu Xi differently than before and had fallen in love quietly, hardly noticing it himself. Because jby rarely shows his deepest feelings and is so used to putting on a facade by now. And poor Wu Xi, who grew up in a place where everyone just did and said what they felt and wanted without putting on airs, had no idea how jby felt. But it didn’t diminish his feelings. I love how he “leveled up” as a character after jby broke his heart 😂He’s like “yes I’m pissed at him, and yes I’m still marrying him but now he’s got some explaining to do” lmao. It was hard to see him go through that, but it showed how unfaltering his love is, and how he’s grown as a character. Wu Xi learned the hard way that jby is more complicated and morally gray than he first thought, but he still loved him. His main struggle was looking for confirmation that JBY returned his feelings and no longer viewed him as a child.

And that part toward the end, when jby was facing down death, he was finally able to admit to himself that he viewed Wu Xi as his soulmate and reiterate this later in the extras to reassure Wu Xi of his feelings. Despite having no inclination for romance after his suffering with Helian Yi, Wu Xi’s patience and determination finally softened his heart again. That’s why Wu Xi was so good for him though in this life. He needs someone who’s stubborn and determined to see through that facade and break down those walls. We saw it repeatedly throughout the novel; Wu Xi picking up on jby emotions even when he tried to hide it, and jby being taken by surprise every time.

If anything I just wish we could have had a few more extra chapters of them living as a couple, since their actual romance started so late in the novel. (If anyone has any fic recs pls let me know 👀)

That extra chapter with Helian Yi’s first life was rather heartbreaking. I mean, I know he killed jby. But in the current life he didn’t, and loved him much sooner. I know it’s just the unfortunate circumstances and politics of being ruler, he'll never truly be able to devote himself to someone the way JBY needed him to. But I feel like Helian Yi never did get resolution or chance to fully move on. Maybe now that jby is completely out of the picture he’ll find happiness in his next life 🥲

I want to read this one again sometime, I'm sure there are a lot of things I missed. I had so many thoughts but to avoid it being even longer I just focused on the main relationships.

#qi ye #lord seventh #jing beiyuan #wu xi #xiyuan

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

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Daring - Chapter 3

This is the last chapter for Daring! If you haven't, read part one and two first 💛 This is just a very fluffy chapter with vanilla smut at the end (with love for all of you who got whiplash from my last fic).

CW for alcohol consumption, language, talk of loss/trauma, sex and SPOILER WARNING for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water. I will spoil the ending for the movie here so if you want to watch it first and haven't yet, now's the time! Honestly, it's an amazing movie and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so lmk if you have ~thoughts~

Chapter 3 - Home

The days until Thursday went just as excruciatingly slow as the days before your first date had. The only difference was that now you knew what to expect. Or did you? You knew she liked you, too. Wanted you, too. She had told you every night on the phone. Every day after you finished at work you waited patiently for Abby to get off her shift, too. She was on day shifts at the moment, usually from 6 am to 4 pm, but more often than not it took a few hours longer.

Abby was very kind with her patients, often taking people back home from the hospital or helping them get accommodated in their hospital rooms. It cost her a lot of time, but when she told you how grateful they all were you could hear how much she cared.

“I’m telling you Y/N, she actually cried in my arms. This poor old lady, I think she must have been over 80. She could barely raise her arms to put on the gown, the fall had stunned her pretty bad.”

You and Abby were cooking on FaceTime, or rather you were pouring yourself some cereal and Abby was making pasta with fresh tomatoes and herbs. You wished you were there.

“I hope she recovers fast,” you said, pouring in the milk. “It must be awful, being away from home in that state.”

“Yeah,” Abby sighed, “but she luckily didn’t break anything. It’s horrible though, the way elderly people bruise. She is going to have every single step of those stairs visible on her torso for at least a week.”

You took your phone and bowl, using your elbow to open the door to your room. Leah winked at you from the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth and water dripping from her hair. She was going out with Nora and Jordan, seeing some action movie.

“You’re incredible for taking the time to help her. Did she really have no one else?”

Abby sprinkled some basil into her pasta sauce.

“I don’t think so. She was pretty confused, but she said her daughter lives in New York and she didn’t want me to call her. I’m gonna check on her tomorrow when I have a minute between calls.”

“Oh speaking of…” You leaned back against your headboard and propped up your phone against your thigh, staring into your bowl. “Are we still on tomorrow?”

Abby laughed quietly.

“Baby, I’ve been counting the hours. I can’t wait.” You felt a pull in your stomach at the name. She had never called you baby before. Looking at her, you could see she was trying to hide her nervousness. You smiled at her.

“When can I come over?”

“I hope I get off at 5 and they don’t rope me into an emergency in the last minute of my shift. I’ll just call you as soon as I head out and you can come over straight away. I’ll buy all the groceries we need tonight.”

“Hey, I can -” you protested, but Abby cut you off.

“No, you just grace me with your presence, that’s enough. You don’t know the exact ingredients anyway.”

You smiled and finished your cereal. You couldn’t wait.

Abby called you at 6 pm, still sitting in the passenger seat of the ambulance.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call sooner.” Little strands of hair had fallen out of her braid and framed her face, some of them looking damp with sweat. There was a flush on her face and dark circles loomed under her eyes. You felt just a little bit guilty, having stayed up with her on facetime until after midnight the night before.

“Don’t worry, I’m not the one working extra hours. How was your shift?”

“Honestly? Terrible.” You knew Abby was not one to complain, so that really had to mean something. You saw her sway in the seat as the ambulance pulled into the garage and finally came to a halt. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? I’ll be home in half an hour, so just come over whenever you want. I’ll leave the front door unlocked in case I’m still in the shower.”

A prickle went over your skin at the thought, but you quickly pushed it away. Abby was obviously exhausted, this was not the time to imagine her and you in a shower.

“Are you sure you really want to cook? We could just order takeout and call it a night.”

Abby considered it for a moment. It had to have been the worst day. She quickly spoke to the person next to her in the driver’s seat, then you heard the car door being shut. Abby looked back at you.

“Abby. Let me take care of you.” Your voice was soft. You wished you could brush the loose strands of hair behind her ear. The blonde sighed and unfastened her seatbelt.

“Just come over, okay? We can decide then. I just want you with me.”

You jumped up and grabbed the bag you had already prepared for sleeping over, a bottle of Merlot on top of your clothes.

“I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you,” you said as you struggled to put on your shoes with one hand.

“See you soon,” Abby smiled and ended the call.

You called out a goodbye to Leah and she yelled back “Go get her!” Smiling to yourself, you closed the door behind you and rushed to the train station.

Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the train, you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous, just like the last time. But this time was different, you reminded yourself. This time you could make your way straight into Abby’s arms, straight to her lips. You secretly checked your breath in your hand. The train arrived both too quickly and not fast enough.

After knocking at the front door twice without any answer, you made your way inside the house. Abby had told you to just come in, but you felt like an intruder nonetheless. Where could you wait without taking up space that wasn’t hers? You didn’t want to be sitting there like a movie villain when she came down. You called out but there was no answer, only the bass of a rock song playing upstairs and the sound of water rushing through pipes in the wall.

Deciding to make your presence as visible as possible, you dropped your bag on the stairs and took the bottle of the wine to the kitchen. Abby’s heavy paramedic jacket was thrown over a chair and her keys were on the table. An empty glass was standing next to them, water droplets running down on the outside and leaving a wet ring on the wooden surface. You picked it up and placed it in the sink, drying the spot with a tea towel. Then you took out two wine glasses from the cupboard you had put them into after cleaning up the last time and put them on the counter. You leaned against it, wondering what you should do now.

Thankfully, you heard the water shut off upstairs and a few seconds later there was the soft thump of naked heels on tile floor. You decided just to wait until Abby came down. It only took two minutes, then you heard her on the stairs. She slowed when she reached the bottom, probably noticing your bag.

“Y/N?” Her voice was light, but there was excitement in it, carefully restrained.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You suddenly didn’t know what to do with your hands and reached for the bottle, then realized you didn’t have an opener and you probably wouldn’t be able to use one either. You let your arms drop to your side and Abby entered the kitchen, stopping a few steps from you.

She looked beautiful. She was wearing a light grey cutoff shirt and dark navy sweatpants. Her hair was still wet and hung loosely over her shoulders, darkening the cotton where it touched the fabric. Her face was still tired and her shoulders slumped slightly, but her eyes had lit up at the sight of you.

“You’re here!” She held out her hands, still not moving from her spot.

You closed the distance and threw your arms around her, burying your face in her neck.

“I’m here,” you mumbled and Abby’s arms closed around you, encasing you completely. She smelled wonderful, moisture still evaporating from her skin and warmth spreading from her body to yours where you touched. Your excitement didn’t falter, but your nervousness did. A wave of calm came over you. You were here.

“I’m sorry your day was so terrible,” you murmured, lips brushing the skin of Abby’s throat just above the neckline of her shirt. “Wanna spend the rest of it on the couch?”

Her upper body fell forward into you and her forehead came to rest on your shoulder. She nodded and you gave her waist a gentle squeeze before drawing back, resting your foreheads together and cradling her cheek with your hand.

“Come on, then. Let’s order you some food. I brought wine as well if you want some.”

Abby sighed.

“I’d love some.”

You wanted to step aside and take the glasses to the living room but Abby’s arms around you tightened and the corner of her mouth lifted.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered. And then she kissed you.

It was sweet, gentle, and tired, her lips soft and warm. You melted into her, both of you clinging to each other for a moment until Abby pulled away smiling. She took the bottle of wine and rummaged through a drawer for the opener. You held the glasses and watched her open the bottle, brows knit together and her tongue peeking out between her lips. It was both adorable and incredibly hot. You sat down on the large sofa together and Abby poured both of you a generous amount, then you clinked glasses and the blonde stole another kiss.

“Alright,” you unlocked your phone, “what are you craving?”

Abby gave you an amused look before she let her head fall back on the sofa cushion and thought for a second.

“Do you like Mexican food? Burritos?”

“Love it,” you said, searching for the closest restaurant and checking their website for delivery service. Abby just hummed in approval when she saw which one you had picked out. You placed the order together, Abby’s right hand never releasing yours as she clumsily used her left to pick her food. When the order was sent, you threw your phone to the foot of the sofa.

“So,” you said, turning to your side in order to get a better look at the blonde. “Wanna tell me about work?”

Abby sighed and opened her arm for you to crawl into. You gladly scooted closer, resting your head on her shoulder and throwing an arm over her stomach. When she spoke, you could feel the thrum of her voice in her chest.

“I went in early to check on the old lady who fell yesterday and found out she’d fallen again last night. She hadn’t told anyone because she was embarrassed, but I could tell something was wrong. Turns out her arm was broken in three places. I had them call her daughter even though she begged me not to bother her. I don’t know what her daughter is like, but I hope she takes care of her.”

You hummed and pushed yourself even closer to Abby’s side.

“After that, we had a call because of a domestic violence case. The police were there already, it was horrible.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and you pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“After that, we had to go straight to another family dispute that ended in someone being stabbed with a steak knife. We got them to the hospital fast enough and it all went well in the end but I just hate cases that revolve around psychological trauma as well. All those family issues… I hate it.”

You could only imagine how horrible this must be for her after what had happened to her dad. Though you still didn’t know the whole story and you could probably find out easily by googling her name, you didn’t want to feel like an intruder in her past. She would tell you when she was ready.

“I’m glad you’re telling me about it,” you said, trying to sound firm and gentle at the same time.

Abby let out a little huff that sounded slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I don’t usually do that. Normally I would have just shoved all that into the back of my mind and tried to make this evening go perfect. Not that I don’t want to put in the effort with you-”

“I know,” you interrupted her, raising your head to smile at her, noses brushing against each other. “I think this is perfect. You are.”

You moved in for a kiss and Abby placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you gently as your lips touched. She deepened the kiss soon, breath going a little faster as her arms pulled you even closer. You threw your leg over her thigh, half on top of her now. Her tongue was smooth and hot against yours and when her teeth scraped over your bottom lip, you let out a whimper that she caught in another kiss. Feeling bold, you finally moved on top of Abby, straddling her thigh and placing your hands left and right of her flushed face. You rolled your hips forward and she made a guttural sound, low and hungry.

Her hands were all over you, pressing between your shoulder blades, wrapping around your waist, grabbing your hips to make you grind forward again, then finally cupping your ass and digging her fingers into the muscle. You stopped trying to keep yourself from panting and leaned forward to kiss Abby’s jaw, then the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She drew up her leg behind you, pressing her thigh between your legs, and you whimpered into her ear.

“Abby,” you whispered, “what are you doing to me?”

“Anything you want,” she murmured against your cheek, “anything, baby.”

You could hear your pulse drumming in your ears as you kissed the blonde fiercely, then moved your lips over that chiseled jaw again before biting the delicate skin of her throat. You dragged your tongue over her pulse point, actually feeling the beat of her heart fluttering against your sensitive nerve endings. She smelled intoxicating, warm, and earthy, and it made you want to take her in completely, to drown in her and never come to the surface again.

Her hands were on your hips again, guiding them against hers as she let out another low moan, lips parted and pupils blown as she looked at you with a mixture of amazement and pure, burning desire. You let your hands wander down her torso, trailing your fingers along the hem of her shirt and slipping them underneath. Abby’s skin was radiating heat, her stomach flexing beneath your touch.

“May I?” You asked, your voice breathless. Abby just nodded, lifting her arms over her head and arching her back so you could push the fabric up, revealing her broad frame, toned abs, and a black sports bra. You threw the shirt to the side and fell back onto her, your chests pressing together as you enveloped her in another heated kiss. You ground down against her thigh, the seam of your jeans pressing against all the right places. Abby’s hands were on your back again, broad and warm and reassuring.

You stayed like that for a while, melting into each other, catching the other’s breath, and trying to move in ways that would get the other to moan even though you were both still shy and careful about making noise. Abby twisted her pelvis ever so slightly so you could keep riding her thigh and hit her hipbone at the front of every movement. You responded by pulling her damp hair and making her hiss before she pulled you in and kissed you fiercely.

“God, Abby…” Heat was pooling at the bottom of your stomach and there was a sudden, almost painful sensitivity to your core. Pleasure had sneaked up on you without you noticing, completely surprising you with its intensity as Abby rolled her hips upward and you had no choice but to cry out. There was a hunger in her eyes, a triumphant glint and she held your face gently with one hand while the other was tight around your hip, guiding your movements against her and pressing into your flesh.

“Fuck, Abby, fuck, I’m so -” She swallowed your whimpers with another searing kiss, her tongue pressing into your mouth and her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Come on, baby, you’re so good, so beautiful, baby,” Abby mumbled against your lips, followed by more sweet compliments and hot kisses, her eyes always on yours. You found the perfect angle at last and dug your fingers into her shoulder, your moans going high and fast as you pressed your forehead to hers. She placed a last gentle kiss on your lips and you came undone on top of her. Her hands caught you easily, stroking you through your high, her lips caressing every inch of your face. Her skin was warm beneath you and slightly sweaty. You licked a small stripe up the side of her throat and kissed her jaw.

Abby pulled back just an inch to get a better look at your face, running her hands through your hair and over your cheeks, then down your shoulders and coming to rest around your waist.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” she said quietly and with a blissful smile. “An angel.”

Her gaze was so piercing, so raw and knowing that you suddenly had the urge to bury your face in your hands, to hide from this infinite feeling inside of you that you could see in Abby’s eyes as well. You forced yourself to hold her gaze and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

“I’ve never… this has never happened to me before,” you confessed softly. “You are doing things to me I never even dreamed of.”

Abby chuckled at that and caught your hand, kissing every knuckle and then the inside of your palm.

“We fit well, don’t we?” It was cautious, a step forward with no weight on it yet, a hand on a door handle.

“We do.” You grinned at her, and maybe it was the rush of the high that still hadn’t faded or a rare wave of courage, but you decided to rip open that door from the other side. You sat up and placed a hand on her sternum, feeling her heart thrum beneath your palm.

“Abby, I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but just know that I’m already yours, no matter what.”

For a moment, Abby didn’t seem to fully comprehend. Then she frowned, the smile not fully leaving her lips but turning bittersweet. You felt your stomach drop. Had you spoken too soon?

“Y/N.” Abby’s hand covered yours on her chest. “I’d love nothing more.” A weight fell off your shoulders. Abby wasn’t done talking yet.

“I’m a difficult person to… be with. I’ve really put in all I had with you so far, but there are times when I will be cold and closed off and I won’t be able to let you in, to let anyone in. I don’t know if I could hurt you like that.” She squeezed your hand now, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying this because I’m scared or unsure, I’m saying this to give you an out. Or at least some more time to really get to know what it’s like with me in your life. I can be exhausting. At least that’s what I’m told.”

You felt something hot flare up in your throat. That was not fair.

“Who told you that?”

“Owen. I mean, he’s the only person who knows what it’s like being with me and he certainly didn’t like it very much.” Even with her broad shoulders, her set jaw, all her muscles, she looked strangely small now. You felt like you were going to burst with rage.

“Abby, do you honestly think an ex’s opinion of you counts? To me? I don’t give a shit what Owen thinks because I’m not him and this is not the same thing. I get to decide what it’s like and so far it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” You placed both your hands on her cheeks and leaned forward. “Babe, stop trying to deny yourself happiness. You deserve to be happy. And if I make you happy, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Abby sat up straight, her face now directly in front of yours, and wrapped her arms around you tightly. She blinked the tears away, a smile beginning to tug on her lips.

“You’re mine?”

“Only yours.”

She kissed you and you could feel her grin against your mouth, smooth teeth softly clicking against yours.

“Mine,” she mumbled and began trailing kisses down your throat, hands now wandering down your back and under your t-shirt where they immediately provoked goosebumps to spread over your entire body. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Both of you pulled back with surprised faces.

“The food!” you realized and you had to laugh as you scrambled to get up from the couch. You had almost forgotten how hungry you were. Abby quickly pulled on her shirt, grabbed her wallet, and opened the door, hair wild and her lips still red and swollen. You hovered in the background, probably looking just as disheveled, and tried not to giggle like an idiot.

The delivery guy took one look at you and just gave Abby an amused smirk as he handed her the food. She tipped him generously and thanked him before closing the door and turning to you, both of you frozen in your spots for a second. Then you both burst out in laughter. Abby was next to you in three strides and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you let yourself flop down on the sofa together. Abby had ordered two large burritos, you had chosen a vegetarian taco bowl and a big bag of tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole. While you unpacked all the food and laid it out on the coffee table, Abby turned on the TV and scrolled through the movie options.

After some looking around, you decided to watch The Shape of Water, which you hadn’t seen yet despite being a big Guillermo del Toro fan. You ate in silence, letting the film pull you into a cold war era story of a mute woman, her gay best friend, and a strange fish-human being in the facility she was a cleaner at. You generally avoided watching more artistic, less Hollywood-typical movies with other people in fear of them constantly ridiculing the story to hide their own discomfort with monsters, but Abby was just as immersed in the story as you were. Sally Hawkins was a fantastic actress and the amphibian man was beautifully designed and a fascinating character. Del Toro’s handwriting was all over the film - beautiful colors and cinematography, fairytale monsters next to very human, real-life ones, the fear of the Other and the idea that maybe if one just dares to look beyond, the Other may have a story to tell and love to give.

When you had finished your food, you snuggled up to Abby, occasionally feeding her chips with guacamole and kissing the salt from her lips. During the final scenes when the shooting happened, Abby tensed up next to you. You hadn’t even thought about movies possibly triggering her or making her uncomfortable. Fuck, you should have looked it up beforehand. Now all you could do was press your temple to her collarbone and wrap your arms around her as tightly as possible.

“Do you want to turn it off?” You mumbled, your thumb drawing circles on her ribcage. You could feel Abby shake her head.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now. The movie is almost over anyway.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you close. The ending was beautiful and heart-wrenching and you shed a few tears, staining Abby’s shirt. She just smiled and kissed the tears from your cheeks.

“Did you like it?” You asked tentatively, not sure if the shooting may have ruined it for Abby.

“I loved it.” Her expression was warm. “That scene in which she talks about the way he sees her without any of her flaws, just her, and how her fight for his life is what makes her human was beautiful.”

“And then in the end she wasn’t human after all,” you added, “I’ve never really seen it that way around. Usually, the beast turns into a prince at the end. I always hate that. Why can’t the monster stay a monster after having proven their love and their honor and whatever else is needed to redeem them, you know?”

Abby thought about that for a moment, her eyes going unfocused.

“That’s true. In so many stories, all the things that make the monster monstrous are stripped away as soon as they have proven their worth and found true love. It doesn’t work like that in real life. We all have things inside that could deem us monsters and it’s only when we hope to have found love that we can dare to reveal them and hope the other person loves us anyway.”

Something warm spread inside you, reaching out to every corner of your body, every toe and every fingertip. You leaned in and kissed her gently.

“The silver plate.”

Abby looked confused for a second, then she remembered the things she had said during your last date.

“Yeah, my own monstrous silver plate.” She smiled. “Scared?”

“Not at all,” you grinned and climbed on top of her. “I’ll devour you.”

You pressed your lips to hers her and it quickly turned into another heated makeout session. Your limbs were tangled together and her hands roamed your body as you kissed her neck and when she finally asked: “can I?” you almost knocked your head against her jaw trying to sit up so she could take off your shirt.

Sitting up on her hips, you dragged your nail from her ear to the hem of her shirt, scratching the skin and making her hiss, eyes burning.

“Want to show me your bedroom?” you asked, trying not to lose your focus at the feeling of her hands wandering up your thighs. You yelped as Abby sat and stood up in one swift motion, arms secure around your waist and thighs so you’d stay pressed to her chest. You wrapped your legs around her and laughed into her mouth before she kissed you again.

The tall blonde carried you up the stairs like it was nothing, making soft noises when you bit into the soft skin just below her jaw.

“Y/N…” She kicked open a door and didn’t give you any time to look around, crawling on the bed and trapping you under her large body, attacking you with kisses, all teeth and tongue. It was glorious.

You pulled on Abby’s shirt until she grunted and took it off herself, then her hands were trailing the skin above the waistband of your jeans. More, more, more.

“Can I take those off?” Abby asked, sitting back on her knees between your legs.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips for better access, but Abby had other plans. She let her hands wander over your upper body, her fingers teasing your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette, then softly tickling your stomach on their way down. Finally, she opened the button of your jeans and slowly opened the zipper, her eyes flickering up to your face and back down to her hands.

“Come ooon,” you begged, “please, Abby.”

There was the hint of a smirk on her lips, but she complied and pulled off your jeans, both of you laughing as they caught around your ankles and Abby had to wrestle them off. Then Abby’s hand was on your foot and she held it in place on her shoulder, slowly kissing her way up your leg. Your breath got faster with every inch she came closer to your heated center, that place that had gotten a taste of what was to come and wanted more. She dragged her lips over your clothed core and your legs trembled, a gasp escaping you.

Abby took her time with you, kissing your stomach and chest before taking off your bralette and teasing your nipples with a gentle tongue and fluttering fingers. You were squirming beneath her, a mess of pleasure and want for more, begging her to touch you. Finally, she sat back up and hooked her fingers under the waistband of your panties, keeping eye contact and pulling them down slowly. Her gaze was burning, pupils wide, lips hanging open and breath going in shallow pants.

Her tongue was heaven, it was heat and silk and everything at once, enveloping you in waves of ecstasy and making you moan and bury your hands in her hair. She was gentle, cleaning up the mess you had made earlier and the one just now, broad tongue and small circles sending your hips up to meet her, her fingers around your thighs too far away.

“Abby, please…” you gasped and she looked up to meet your gaze. You melted inside.

“What do you want, baby?” Her voice was deep and husked, lips shining with your juices.

“Your fingers.” You gave her hand a light push downward and with a smile, she complied.

If you had thought you had already reached the pinnacle of pleasure, the best there was, you had been oh so wrong. Abby’s fingers were magical, teasing you and filling you up, stroking against that tender spot inside you, then slowing down as her tongue made you see stars, complying when you begged her for more, faster, harder. Your legs hadn’t stopped shaking in what felt like forever, your fingers were cramped into Abby’s beautiful blonde mane and you were crying out her name over and over again as she brought you to your peak, guiding you through it and moaning along with you as your juices covered her fingers and her tongue.

When she finally crawled back up to meet you, her arms were shaking slightly and her face was flushed. You still felt like you were somewhere far away, but her smile pulled you back to the present. She kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Slowly, you let your hand wander down and play with the seam of her sweatpants and the hem of her boxers peeking out underneath.

“Wanna take these off?” you mumbled in her ear and you could see she was trying to keep her composure as she tried to get out of her pants as fast as possible before coming back to you. She stopped and looked unsure suddenly.

“Is it okay if I keep these on for now?” She gestured to her sports bra and underwear.

“Of course, baby. Can I touch you?” You whispered, one hand on the back of her neck as the other wandered lower. Abby nodded and kissed you again.

“Yes, please,” she whispered back. You slid your hand into her boxers and were greeted by wet heat, desire practically pooling in your palm. Both of you gasped at the same time, eyes flying open to meet each other’s, bodies grinding together.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” you cooed and watched Abby dissolve in front of you, blood shooting into her cheeks before she buried her face in your neck and began leaving lovebites on your throat. You dragged your fingers between her folds, relishing in the tiny noises she made whenever you touched her clit or came near her entrance.

You put all your strength into throwing Abby to the side and rolling on top of her, hand never leaving her center. She laughed in surprise and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in, and at that moment you slid a finger inside her. Her eyes went wide and the noise she made would visit your dreams for the rest of your days. You kept your lips wandering over her throat and back to her lips, pulling moan after moan from her with your fingers, gently pushing inside her and curling upward, your thumb drawing circles on her clit. After a while, you could see her abs flexing as her core convulsed rhythmically, her moans getting higher and breathless, her fingers digging into your waist.

“Will you come for me, Abby?” you whispered and kissed her again. Her hips bucked up into your hand and she made a strangled noise, then her legs clamped together around your fingers and she sighed, tongue darting out to brush against yours as you slowly pulled your hand from her sensitive core.

You threw your thigh over her hips and pressed your face into the crook of her neck, giving her time to breathe as you drew patterns on her bare stomach with your fingers.

“Baby…” she mumbled above you, voice vibrating through her chest. “That was… I don’t even have words.”

You grinned up at her and she brushed your hair behind your ear. Her gaze was full of love and adoration, like sunlight warming your skin, soft fingertips caressing your cheeks.

“I’ve never felt so safe,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder so you could look at her. “You’re so careful.”

Abby smiled and followed the path of your fingers with her eyes.

“I’ve had other experiences in the past that made me realize how important it is to always check on your partner.” She looked down at her clothed hips. “Thank you for… not making this weird. I’m just… one step at a time.”

“Of course, baby.” You moved your lips closer to her ear. “I think it’s really fucking hot, you between my legs in those boxers, all muscles and freckles. But then when I touch you, you’re so needy, just a wet mess, coming on my fingers in your underwear.”

Abby let out a shaky breath, chest trembling at your words. She laced her fingers between yours and pressed them to her sternum.

“You leave me speechless every time,” she said, voice quiet and content.

“I love it.” You pulled the blanket up with your foot and covered both of your bodies up to your hips, yawning into her shoulder. Abby chuckled quietly.

“Do you need to set an alarm for tomorrow?” She reached over to the bedside table, then let her arm drop. “Our phones are still downstairs.”

You groaned and rolled onto your back before blinking up at Abby innocently, hoping she would go and get them. She just laughed and got up, stretching her arms and making the muscles on her back dance beautifully.

“You need to go pee,” she said with raised eyebrows. You sighed and lazily rolled out of bed, pulling the blanket up around you.

Abby showed you the bathroom across the hall and made her way down the stairs, a bounce in her step. You could hear her clean up the takeout containers and throw away the trash in the kitchen. Suddenly there was a noise outside, a deep voice and the jingle of keys at the door. You froze with the towel in your hands. The front door opened and Manny tried to stay quiet in that completely ineffective way most men do, dropping his shoes with loud thumps and whispering into his phone so loudly you could hear every word.

“Hi, Manny,” Abby said in the hallway. Keys dropped to the floor with a clunk.

“Dios mio! What the hell are you doing sneaking around here, Abby? You just get back from the gym?” You could hear her laugh quietly as he tried to catch his breath.

“I could ask you the same. Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”

You snuck back into her bedroom on tiptoes, wrapping the blanket around you tightly and staying near the door to hear the conversation downstairs.

“Had to go early, my dad had a hot date tonight.” You could actually hear his grin.

“Yeah, well, me too.” Abby’s voice was dry, but you could tell she wasn’t actually annoyed.

“Really? Y/N? How'd it go?” A pause, then another loud whisper - “holy shit, she still here?

“Y/N, Manny’s home!” Abby’s raised voice rang through the house. You grinned. She knew you were listening.

“Hi, Manny!” You looked around for any clothes you could throw on quickly but came up empty. Sighing, you checked your blanket placement and went to the top of the stairs, looking down at Manny and Abby in the entrance hall.

Abby was still just in her sports bra and boxer shorts but didn’t seem to mind at all. Manny wore sweatpants and a green sweater, along with a hat that said women want me, fish fear me. Behind him were two large bags, one of them clearly full of fishing equipment. His smile lit the room.

“Hi Y/N, nice seeing you here. You two have a good night?”

You nodded and he made a knowing ah-ha sound. Abby elbowed him and red spots formed on her neck.

“Well, I’m gonna eat something and pass out. Breakfast tomorrow?” He threw a hopeful look in Abby’s direction. “When does your shift start?”

“Noon, I get late shift for the next two weeks. Y/N, what about you?” Both of them looked up at you and you shifted your weight, very aware of the way you looked right now.

“I just need to study, I can sleep in for once.”

Abby nodded and patted Manny’s shoulder.

“Breakfast at 10.”

She came up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and grinning from ear to ear. Manny vanished into the kitchen, continuing to scream-whisper into his phone. You made out the words “finally… girl is here” before Abby simply picked you up and carried you back to bed, kicking the door closed behind her.

You snuggled up together and Abby stroked your hair while she told you about her friendship with Manny and how glad she was to have him. He had been there for her through everything and he had wanted her to make a move and ask you out for weeks. You felt yourself drift away slowly.

“I’m so glad I’m here,” you mumbled, hand stroking Abby’s chest.

“Me too, baby. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine.” The bliss in her voice was the same you felt in your heart.

“Finally.” You craned your neck for a last kiss and melted beneath Abby’s soft lips and warm hands.

She held you wrapped tightly in her arms, almost as if she was scared you could vanish in the night. As if you'd ever leave her now. The last thing you thought before falling asleep was that you were finally home.

Author's note: Have you seen The Shape of Water? Did you like it? Let me know here 💌 If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here 🤎

#abby anderson #abby tlou2 #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last us 2 #tlou abby #leah #leah tlou #abby anderson fanfiction #smut #fluff

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xfandomwritingsx · 4 years ago

Text

Unchained Part Two - Riddick

Description: When your crew captures Riddick, you risk letting him go. (And travel with him and now you’re attracted to a murderer. Fun times.)

Warnings/Labels: Language, Sexual Activities (Fingering), Riddick being Riddick.

Approx. Word Count: 3,300

A/N: GUYS! Look what I FINALLY did!!! I am too lazy and too excited to find a gif for this fic so just... live without one.\

Part One

You knew if he didn’t decide to kill you first, Riddick was going to drop you at the next planet, livable or not. He never said it, but you weren’t under any delusions about traveling together and honestly just hoped you’d get there sooner than later. The longer it took, the more chance he had to decide you weren’t worth keeping alive.

Unfortunately, shortly after he’d jettisoned the crew, alive or otherwise, into black space, you’d hit a bad storm. Navigation systems were cut and you both got knocked around pretty good. Parts of the ship were destroyed. Whole sectors had broken off. It was a wonder how you were both still alive.

The following day, you caught him trying to tend to an injury on his own back. You watched for a moment as a man made of pure muscle attempted to apply aid to a place he could not reach. The click of his jaw was the only indication that he was frustrated.

“Here,” you offered, entering the dark room and setting down the pile of clothes you’d collected for yourself on a nearby table. “Let me help.” You stood next to him and waited for his silent permission, his acceptance of your offer. He looked at you, melted silver eyes taking you in. His stare wasn’t predatory this time, rather curious and quizzical as he assessed you.

As you assumed, he didn’t say anything, simply handed you the rag in his hand as his command to proceed. You took it and moved behind him, straddling the same bench he was. He gave you one final look over his shoulder before turning away and letting you work.

The wound was mostly superficial with more bruising than anything. You used the rag to gently clean the area before applying a small amount of ointment to the bruised skin. Riddick was unmoving under your touch. He did not flinch nor relax into your hands, simply stayed still and silent in front of you as you worked on him. Your fingers lingered on his skin once you were done, tracing the hard muscle of his shoulders and you only removed them when he turned his head to you again and silently cocked an eyebrow at you.

When you pulled away, there was deep rumble of a “Thanks,” from him and you shuffled yourself out fairly quickly, not seeing the amused smirk he gave you.

Less than a day later, you docked at a station on a remote planet. You packed up your bag with everything that could fit inside and left the ship. You bartered with locals for a short while and tried to get your bearings and perhaps a plan.

When you returned to the ship an hour later, you’re not surprised to see it gone. What did surprise you, was a strong hand wrapping itself around your forearm and pulling you to the side. Riddick had come up behind you and led you to another ship, one he’d either bought somehow or, more likely, high jacked. This time you saw the slightest smirk on his lips as he watched the surprise on your face.

And now, a couple of months later, you’re still on that foreign ship traveling through space with your only companion being a cold-hearted murderer. And yet, as you stand in the cockpit staring out at an endless sky full of stars, you can’t help but think this is the most content you’ve been in a long time. You’ve been flittering around the galaxy, jumping planet to planet for supplies and having no responsibilities besides keeping the ship going, keeping yourself alive, and making sure Riddick doesn’t want to kill you. You actually spend less time looking over your shoulder now than you did traveling with mercs the last few years. Overall, it’s not a bad way of life.

There’s a chuckle behind you from Riddick who’s sitting in the pilot’s chair that he’s moved to the side of the control panel. You look over your shoulder at him with arms crossed over your chest. It’s quite amusing how casual and comfortable he looks there.

“Let me ask you something,” he says, hands folded in his lap as he watches you, ghost of a smile still on his mouth. “When you gonna stop taking everything you own off the ship every time we land?” You furrow your brow and act as though you don’t know what he’s talking about, which only makes him chuckle again. “You think I don’t see you packing up all the supplies you can carry every time we dock?” He tilts his head at you. “Like you’re not expecting to come back.” You press your lips together and turn around fully to face him.

“I thought you’d drop me the first chance you got,” you admit. “Never liked the idea of being unprepared. Second nature when you run with mercs.” You shrug and watch as Riddick carefully runs his tongue around the edge of his lower lip. His goggles mask his eyes, but you’ve picked up on his movements the last couple of months and judging by the small dip in his chin, he’s running his eyes over your body. It’s a gesture you’ve found you don’t mind much at all.

“Come here,” he tells you firmly, leaving little to no room for you to argue. You follow the command and step forward slowly, purposely stepping just off to the side of him. “Now why would I drop something as beautiful as you?” Soft words, but a dark voice. You have to physically repress the shiver that tickles down your spine. You suspect he sees the little roll in your shoulders as you uncross your arms.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to keep things around just because they’re pretty.” You slip your hands into your back pockets just so they’re not hanging at your sides. You ignore the way Riddick looks at you and the delightful chill that that crawls across your skin.

“Ahhh,” he sighs, still clearly entertained by the conversation. “But you have your uses, don’t you?” There’s a clear definition in his voice that implies more than flirtation and it both excites you and scares you.

“Well, I can sure as shit turn a ship better than you. That’s for sure,” you joke lightly, something in you not wanting to give in to his game so easily. He bites his lip and hums.

“By all means, take the helm,” he tells you. A wicked tilt comes over his mouth and you get the feeling he’s looking directly into your eyes. “I’ll enjoy the ride.”

A heat rises from your center and resonates up the skin of your neck. Skin tingles as you force yourself to breathe slowly, evenly. You toy with the idea of playing back with him, the danger of the fire so tempting and hard to resist. You wonder if you could get a rise out of him. Could you make him weak at the knees if you tried?

You’re still contemplating what you want when Riddick suddenly grabs you. Your heart jumps and adrenaline fills your veins instantly, but you’re not nearly quick enough to stop him. His wraps around your wrist first, yanking you forward and spinning you off balance. His other hand slips around the base of your throat and in a flurry of movement, he’s pulled you onto his lap, his chest pressing firmly to your back.

Your breath is shaky now as you attempt to stay completely still. Survival mode already kicked in, your body freezes in order to show no threat towards a wild animal. No sudden movements. No tensing of the muscles he might feel. Just slow breath and concentration.

It’s a near mirror image to the hold he had on you when you set him free and as you begin to calm down, you realize the hand around your throat isn’t squeezing. It’s cradling if anything. The fingers around your wrist aren’t holding firm anymore, but instead dancing around the sensitive skin. Riddick presses his nose into your neck and breathes deeply before moving his hand from your wrist to your hips. Using light pressure on your neck and a hard push on your hips, he drags you back along his lap, seating your ass on his crotch and pressing every inch of your back to him. There’s a sharp hiss of breath through your nose when you feel a rising hardness beneath you.

“I never thanked you.” You can feel his deep voice through his chest on your back. His hand slips off your neck and to your collar bone as his fingers at your hip slowly start to play with the waistband of your pants.

“You didn’t kill me.” Your voice is not nearly as steady as you hoped. His nose traces up your neck and you find yourself titling your head, letting him press behind your ear and travel back down again.

“That doesn’t seem like much of a thank you, does it?” he whispers darkly into your ear. “I think you deserve something a little more than that.” Another hiss of breath as his fingers pop open the button of your pants. Your hand instinctively darts out to stop him. He lets out a breathy laugh into the juncture of your neck, but his hand does still beneath yours.

You try to think, to weigh your options, but your mind is thick and foggy and Riddick’s mouth is opening against your skin. His teeth graze over you before his tongue gently licks at the heat on your neck. You repress a soft moan and your grip on his hand loosens. He takes your moment of haze to slip his knees between yours. With one swift motion, he uses his own knees to pull yours apart, spreading your legs and causing you to groan. He lets out a sigh as though he’s received some sort of relief through this.

“You have no idea how fucking good you smell,” he groans. None of this should turn you on. The cold-blooded killer telling you how you smell. The way he has you pinned open for him. The way his fingers are moving again to undo your pants. And yet, the only reason your thighs clench is because your body is desperate for friction.

Your hand rests on his wrist, no longer trying to stop him. You just need to touch him. Your other arm reaches up and behind you, your fingers gripping at the back of Riddick’s neck, pulling him closer. His lips are on the column of your throat again, sucking and licking at the thin, sensitive skin. Taking your moan as permission, his hand slides into your pants. He doesn’t bother playing with you through your panties and slips inside of them too, fingers going straight for your hot, bare center. Your fingers tighten around the back of his neck as his slip through your folds, back and forth, reveling in the feeling of your slick.

“So wet,” he mutters into your throat. “Such a pretty little pussy.” Your eyes close and focus on the heat building in you, the ache to feel something inside. The hand at your collarbone glides down into the neck of your shirt and again bypasses your undergarments. He cups your breast in his palm, gently squeezing before pinching your nipple. “I know how bad you’ve wanted it,” he tells you. “Walking around smelling like a bitch in heat.” Your hips involuntarily thrust forward, trying to encourage his fingers to push into you. He chuckles and uses his arm wrapped around your side to bring you back. “So needy.”

When he pulls you back, you feel his cock underneath you and without thinking, you grind down onto him. His hands still for a fraction of a moment and you swear you feel his hips threaten to push up to meet you. You take the moment and gather all the boldness you have left in you.

“Feels like I’m not the only one,” you tease, your throat dry and voice raspy. You grind down into him again and his fingers dig into your breast. You pull your neck from his mouth and crane to look over your shoulder at him. “Tell me you haven’t wanted it too.” You can’t see his eyes through the blackness of his goggles, but his lips are pressed together and they twitch when you press into his cock. You open your mouth to say something more, but his knees press on the insides of your legs, opening them up further and thrusts two fingers inside of you. He smiles at the way you groan and let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

His fingers are thick and strong, angling to reach deeply inside of you. Your body melts under his touch, your hands losing their grip on him entirely. He pushes his fingers into your only a few times, torturously slowly, and then holds them still, fingertips hovering just outside. You let out a quiet whimper.

“Take what you want,” he tells you, that black amusement filling his tone. Your hips move forward, but ultimately hesitate. “C’mon,” he encourages, voice coming down to a whisper as his fingers tease you. “Ride my hand.” It’s a command this time, one you’re obliged to follow. You rock your hips forward to his unmoving fingers and let them sink back into you. Your breaths are short and shallow as you bit back moans, slowly shifting your hips back and forth on him. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. Let me feel you make yourself cum.” You shift your hips and slip your hand underneath, palming at his cock. His hand is out of your shirt instantly, grabbing harshly at your wrist. “Uh-uh,” he scolds, pulling your hand back out and away from him. You huff in frustration. “Did I say you could do that?” You whimper again, soft and quiet before resuming your thrusts. “Good girl,” he purrs.

You give in to him, focus on your own pleasure like he wants. He keeps whispering dirty encouragement in your ear, holding you upright as you push your hips back and forth on his fingers. He curls his fingers in you, reaching a place high within you that makes your whole core shake. You can feel him smirk against you and does it again.

“Riddick,” you moan. There’s an implication of a request in there, verging on begging.

“What?” He curls his fingers again. “What do you want?” He takes your earlobe between his teeth and shivers cascade down your spine. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sound. “What was that?” he teases. “Do you want something?”

“More. Please.”

“I do love hearing you beg.” The next time you pull away from his fingers, he offers a third for you take. You push forward more slowly this time, eyes rolling back into your head. You bite your lip, still trying to withhold your sounds of pleasure from him. “That’s it,” he coos. “Take it all.” He slowly starts moving his hand to meet your thrusts again. “Such a pretty little thing writhing on my hand like that.” He presses his palm against your clit. “Bet you’d look even better on my dick.” The very thought sends mini shockwaves through you and you arch into his hand. “Tight, wet pussy stretched around my dick.”

“Riddick,” you pant, trying to warn him about how close you are.

“Do it.” He forces his fingers deeper inside of you and circles his palm over your clit harder. “Cum on my fingers. Let me feel it.”

“Fuck,” you curse, your body starting to tense up. You’re on the edge, can feel yourself ready to go over. When he barely contains a groan in your ear and his hips involuntarily thrust up, his own pleasure rising into him, that’s when the coil in you snaps.

With a hiss, your whole body clenches and releases all at once. You can hear him breathe deeply underneath your moans and his body tenses beneath you, controlling himself. Your orgasm is a wave that washes over you and tries to drown you, blacking out your vision and dragging you down into a dark bliss. The only thing that pulls you back, is Riddick’s voice rumbling against your back.

“Good girl,” he says, holding onto you as you come back to him. You wince as he slowly pulls his fingers from you and out of your pants. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder again and when you hear him sucking, you open your eyes to see him licking your slick off of his fingers. He hums pleasantly. “Taste as good as you smell.” You let out an airy laugh and look away.

“Do I need to worry about you eating me when I sleep?” You mean it in the creepy way, in the peel your flesh from your bones, murder kind of way. He twists it though, pushes his still hard dick against you.

“You’d like it,” he assures with a dirty smile. He gives your thigh a quick slap. “Now get up.”

Your muscles are weak and your thighs shake as he finally lets your knees out of his hold. As you stand, you realize you’ve soaked through your panties and your pants, leaving a wet spot that’s sticky and starting to cool. When you turn to face Riddick, you’re unsurprised, but still slightly embarrassed to see that it was enough to leave a wet spot on his crotch too.

He looks so content and pleased with himself and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants, you’d think this is the most comfortable you’ve seen him. You find yourself staring a little too long and shuft your weight on your feet, trying to seem casual.

“I could help with that,” you say, trying to hide the desire that’s swelling back up inside of you. He chuckles.

“I’m good,” he says coolly. “That was your thank you.” You bite your lip and nod carefully.

“Remind me to save you more often,” you joke lightly, pleasantly surprised to see he’s amused by it. You decide to try one last time. “Or maybe there’s something I can thank you for.” You wish you could see his eyes, maybe get a hint as to what he’s thinking. He slowly stands up, reminding you just how strong he is, how tall and powerful he is as he practically glides to his feet. He approaches you, stalking into the space between you and tilts his head ever so slightly.

“You couldn’t handle me,” he warns. He reaches up and you have to resist that instinct to stop him again. His finger plays with a few strands of your hair idly. “I’d tear you apart.” Shit like that is supposed to terrify you. Instead, you actually lean into him and put your hands at his waistband.

“I can take it,” you tell him breathlessly, heart already starting to speed back up, body thrumming and nearly ready to go all over again. He scoffs and looks away from you for a moment.

“I don’t think so.” When he steps back, puts space between you, it feels like cold water rushing over you. Disappointment and emptiness fill the void and if it wasn’t for the way his touch lingered in your hair or the way he bit his lip, you’d feel rejection too. “You have a ship to steer,” he tells you. The teeth on his lip, the bulge still in his pants, the way little swagger in his step as he steps away all tell you he’s still playing a game. One that you are all too happy to keep up with.

“Yes, sir,” you tease, allowing him to walk out of the cockpit with no further argument.

This is far from over.

#chronicles of riddick #riddick imagine #richard b riddick #richard b riddick imagine #riddick

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imagine-loki · 3 years ago

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Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 4

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 4 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants. RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING

The day that Kelly had been waiting for finally arrived just over a week later. She was finally recovered enough from the attack, aside from still a few bruises and superficial cuts.

Stark felt bad for not leaving protection with her on the jet. She kept telling him it was ok. Loki kept telling him he told him so and he was foolish for putting her in danger. Which wasn’t doing Loki any favours in getting in the Avengers good books.

Kelly so wanted to tell Maria that she had a date. But she needed to keep quiet, not wanting to upset Loki. He had asked her not to tell anyone, so she wasn’t going to break her promise to him.

So she got ready on her own, after making an excuse to the others that she was feeling a bit iffy so wanted an early night. Once she was dressed and had her hair and make-up sorted, she sneaked out of her room and made her way down to the back entrance to meet Loki.

He was already there waiting for her. Her heart beat quickened when she saw him. He was so handsome, wearing a suit, black trousers and jacket with a white shirt and a black tie. It wasn’t often he wore mortal clothes but when he did, it was always with such style.

Loki’s smile grew larger as he looked Kelly up and down. She was deliberately wearing a green dress underneath her leather jacket. Her pulse quickened at the look in Loki’s eyes as she approached him.

‘Why, you look absolutely ravishing, my dear.’ Loki purred and picked up her hand to kiss the back of it politely, making her blush.

‘Thank you. You look really handsome.’ She said shyly.

‘Thank you, pet. Had to look my best for you.’ He winked at her, then he offered her his arm and she accepted, slipping her hand around his arm he led her out of the building to an awaiting taxi.

On the drive to the restaurant Loki had picked, casual chat had Kelly at much more ease and she actually forgot she was on a date with the God of lies and mischief, an ex-villain. She felt so relaxed and comfortable around him.

Loki hopped out of the taxi first and rushed round the car to open her door for her when they arrived. He helped her out too, then slipped his arm around her and they headed inside. He’d booked a nice table by the window at the back, looking out to a nice garden.

‘This is so lovely. Thank you, Loki.’ Kelly smiled as she sat down, Loki of course tucked her chair in for her after helping her with her jacket.

‘I only wish I had asked you out sooner.’ Loki said sheepishly.

They got some wine over to the table, then ordered their food. Kelly just hoped she would actually be able to eat something, she felt so nervous and excited, her stomach was all over the place. But the wine did help to settle her a bit.

‘I must ask, are you wearing my colours on purpose or is it a happy coincidence?’ Loki asked, smirking.

Kelly looked like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘Uhm… I… on purpose.’ She said shyly, downing a big gulp of wine.

Loki chuckled. ‘Well, I am honoured.’

Loki asked about Kelly’s life, about her upbringing. He shared a little of himself too, about growing up on Asgard with Thor. She was glad he was opening up to her.

‘Did you tell anyone about our date?’ Loki asked in the middle of their meal.

‘No, I didn’t. I wanted to tell Maria, but I kept quiet.’ Kelly said honestly.

Loki nodded and looked at her warmly. ‘Good girl. It’s for the best.’

Kelly’s face went bright red as she suddenly became very flustered. She quickly reached for her wine and took a few sips to try and hide her face. Loki was a little confused at first, but then it clicked.

Good girl… She had a praise kink? He was sure of it.

Grinning slightly while he kept on eating, not wanting to make a big deal of it and spook her, he noted that information away in his mind. That could come in very handy indeed.

Luckily for Kelly, he changed the subject swiftly. Saving her from further embarrassment.

‘Have you had many boyfriends?’ Loki asked. She was a lovely woman, for a mortal. He was surprised she didn’t have a boyfriend currently.

‘I’ve dated a few people over the years, but nothing ever became… official.’ She shrugged after wiping her mouth with her napkin. She had managed to eat more than she thought she would, luckily.

‘I’m surprised no one has snatched you up yet. You’re a wonderful woman, Kelly.’ Loki said, making her smile giddily.

‘I just… I get attached quite easily. I uhm, I learned my lesson from the first guy I dated four years ago. He hurt me pretty bad, so I am trying not to fall so hard so quickly. It’s made me a little more guarded.’

Loki nodded in understanding. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, darling. Love and trust are such fragile things, not something to be taken for granted. I know it has to be earned. Hopefully, I can prove that I might be worthy of at least your time, perhaps more.’

Kelly’s heart melted completely at his words.

He was such a sweet talker. His silver tongue one of his best abilities and one he was always very much thankful for. One that couldn’t be taken away from him.

They didn’t leave straight after finishing their meal. They had a few more glasses of wine first, Kelly was happily tipsy. Loki barely even felt tipsy, mortal alcohol didn’t affect him in the same way. He would need to drink a few bottles of wine before even feeling slightly tipsy.

After the meal when they were ready to leave, there was a car waiting outside to take them home. Loki opened the door for Kelly and helped her in, then he sat in the middle seat so he could be right next to her, their thighs pressed together, making her blush.

Loki turned more towards her on the drive home and he stroked her cheek softly with the back of his hand. ‘You are so beautiful.’ He hummed.

Kelly smiled shyly as he slid his hand down and gently held her chin.

He licked his lips a little as he leaned in, but he paused a moment and looked deep into her eyes. ‘May I kiss you, darling?’ He asked so sweetly.

Kelly felt her heart swelling that he was so sweetly asking permission just to kiss her.

‘Of course! I mean, yes… yes.’ She blushed hard, trying not to seem too over eager. But Loki didn’t seem to mind as he grinned and closed the distance to plant his lips upon hers, his hand slid round to the back of her head to hold her closely. Not that she would want to move away from him, anyway.

She felt like time had stopped as he kissed her gently, his lips were so soft and cool against her. He moved them slowly, moulding with hers. Her entire world was turned upside down, she had dreamed of kissing him for so long now, she never thought it would actually happen. But now it was, it was even better than she had imagined.

Kelly could only hope it was the start of many.

Later that night, Loki decided to pay her another visit in the middle of the night.

She was sound asleep when he manifested in her room. He was silent as he slowly walked towards her sleeping form in bed. It was quite warm so she had the blanket thrown off her, wearing nothing but a night gown and knickers.

He smirked as he reached the side of her bed. He leaned over her and pressed his palm to her forehead, seeping into her dreams. It was easy, considering Loki was already someone she dreamt and thought about a lot. He wasn’t surprised to find some rather naughty dreams and fantasies about him in her mind.

Using that to his advantage, he manipulated her mind. Making sure she would remain asleep, but also so he could have some form of control over her dreams.

She parted her lips and whispered out his name. That’s when he moved his hand down underneath her night gown and he stroked softly over her abdomen before moving downwards into her knickers. She squirmed a little in her sleep, whimpering softly when his large hand just cupped her at first.

Loki kept his movements steady and careful. He knew his powers weren’t as strong as they should be, so he didn’t want to make a mistake.

Going slow, he slid his fingers through her folds and had to bite back a growl when he discovered she was already getting aroused. Using that to his advantage, he trailed some wetness up over her clit and rubbed it in circles. She started moaning more in her sleep, calling out his name again too.

This is far too easy. Loki thought with a wicked grin as he used his thumb on her clit and began inserting a single finger into her. But he was met with quite a bit of resistance at first, until he managed to ease his way into her with more stimulation on her clit.

‘How interesting.’ He whispered, his cock hardening in his trousers at the realisation she was still a virgin. She was so impossibly tight, even around his slender finger.

She squirmed a little, frowning. ‘No, please… feels weird.’ She whined.

Loki rubbed her clit firmer, while wiggling his finger inside her. Whilst it felt weird for her, he could feel her clamping around his digit in arousal. But her movements were becoming a bit more insistent.

Then her eyes suddenly flew open, but Loki had been able to vanish just a mere second before that. He cursed himself for not being able to hold his powers better, he really needed to get them back properly.

Kelly was breathing hard and a bit sweaty as she turned her light on. She had been so sure that someone, Loki, had actually been there and was touching her. But there was no sign of him at all. And her door was locked, so she knew it couldn’t have been him.

‘That was some vivid dream.’ She muttered to herself and wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand.

Even though she felt aroused and uncomfortable between her thighs, she kept telling herself she had just dreamt it. Though it took her heart a while to stop racing.

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #tear you to pieces #chapter 4 #fanficshiddles

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slvault · 4 years ago

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Ship: Sung Jin-Woo/Woo Jin-Chul

Tags: Post-Canon AU, Future Fic, Canon Divergence AU, Immortality, Fluff, Smut, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers

Summary: Almost twenty years after they first met again, Jin-Chul gets his fair share of good-natured ribbing about being an eternal bachelor, while Jin-Woo’s parents would like to know if he’s ever going to give them grandchildren or even just a daughter- or son-in-law. Both of them smile, deflect, and carry on. Sometimes, when they’re out for drinks or a meal or a break in the middle of the day to feed the ducks, they even like to laugh about it.

Read on AO3

-0-

They’re not feeding the ducks this time. Winter has dug its roots in, covering everything under a fine layer of snow and chasing most people indoors whenever possible. So of course, it’s a fine day for a stroll outside in the peaceful quiet of the cold afternoon. Scarves and jackets and a cup of coffee each are enough to stave off the chill.

They end up in the same park, taking a seat on their usual bench by the lake once they’ve swept the snow off. The water isn’t quite frozen over, but there are bits of ice already floating on the surface.

For a while, they sit in silence, and neither of them feels the need to break it. Two decades they’ve known each other, across two lifetimes, as colleagues and friends and comrades tied together through circumstance and memories and the knowledge of a whole universe full of monsters that consider their planet easy pickings. With a foundation like that, they’ve both long since grown comfortable with simply existing in one another’s presence.

Days like today are normal for them. Not a week’s gone by since Jin-Woo was sixteen and Jin-Chul was twenty-four that they haven’t met up at least once every weekend, sometimes just to check-in, more often to catch up. Usually, they meet up on other days of the week too.

Unlike those days however, Jin-Chul carries an air of anticipatory determination today as he stares out over the lake, and Jin-Woo watches him out of the corner of his eye, patient in a way only a man with all the time in the world to spend can be. Eventually, Jin-Chul stirs, takes a distracted sip of his drink, and then glances over to his left, smiling faintly when he finds Jin-Woo already waiting.

“So, how have you been?” He asks, more as a lead-up than anything else. Jin-Woo had texted him just this morning to tell him about Jin-Ah’s newest boyfriend and the interns he’s thinking of hiring, as well as to pass on some information that looks to be connected to a case Jin-Chul is working on. It was a good day for Jin-Chul’s precinct when Jin-Woo received his private investigator license.

Jin-Woo answers him anyway. “My dad’s thinking of taking my mom on a cruise for their anniversary this year. Jin-Ho’s probably going to get disowned again for introducing his cousin to the joys of breaking into the house of that CEO we’ve been looking into, which probably means I’ll have to hire her sooner or later. And another Gate appeared in America yesterday, on the east coast, so that was an exciting two hours of my life.” He hides a smile behind his drink. “What about your week?”

Jin-Chul stares for a moment, then huffs out a laugh. “Nowhere near as interesting as yours.”

Jin-Woo shrugs lazily. “I keep telling you, you should come with me more often. I can barely get you out of your office once a month.”

Jin-Chul hums noncommittally. It’s not agreement, but it’s not a refusal either. In truth, he has no issues with tagging along whenever Jin-Woo has to go deal with yet another alien intruder or invasion, but there’s only so much responsibility he’s willing to dump on his subordinates, if only because he doesn’t trust them to run everything smoothly in his absence, and if something gets blown up or set on fire while he’s gone, three guesses who would be the one forced to clean up the aftermath.

The whole matter actually segues nicely into what he wants to talk about today though, and for a moment, he levels a searching gaze on the other, taking in the spark of mana in his irises and the flicker of a passing silhouette curling along his jawline and the figures limned in ghost-light that sometimes like to wave at him from the shadows all around them.

All if it is familiar to him these days, all of it dear, all secrets that Jin-Woo shares only with him, and Jin-Chul guards each and every one closely, more precious to him than any jewel or priceless artefact.

“I will be forty-four next week,” He says abruptly.

Jin-Woo blinks once, slow and deliberate, expression near-inscrutable. “I know. I’ve already made a reservation at that restaurant you like in Florence.”

Jin-Chul almost has to laugh at that too. He thinks he’s missed a few things over the past several years. Or maybe not missed. He’s always known; he just hadn’t registered all of what it had meant.

“One of my coworkers was actually complaining about it just a few days ago,” He reveals with good humour. In contrast, he keeps a sharp eye on Jin-Woo, not just his face because reading him is a whole-body endeavour, so Jin-Chul watches him, which has never been a hardship. “Even asked for skincare tips. She was joking of course, but I wouldn’t have been able to give her any either way. It’s apparently terribly unfair though, how I can get to this age, in my profession, and still pass for someone at least a decade younger. I even checked for grey hairs, when I went home that evening. Not a one to be found.”

Jin-Woo stares at him. Jin-Chul stares back, and when he doesn’t get any reaction, or rather, he gets a very resolute non-reaction, he drops his gaze to his coffee and lets the realization that should’ve occurred to him years ago finally crystallize in his mind.

Another smile tugs at his lips. When he looks up again, Jin-Woo has turned his gaze to the lake, the surface so still it seems as if time has frozen in its stead.

“...I’ll stop, if you want me to,” Jin-Woo says at last, and there are shadows in his eyes, dark as storm clouds and a hundred times more deadly. His words are light and inflectionless, but Jin-Chul has never known him to be anything less than honest when speaking to him.

“I should’ve asked first,” Jin-Woo continues, not quite apologetic, not at all regretful, but the admission itself feels like a wound, a surrender, a bended knee, and Jin-Chul’s fingers twitch with the urge to lash out and rip it to shreds.

He doesn’t consider himself a particularly violent man, not even back when he’d still been a Hunter, but anything that can make Jin-Woo sound like that has no right to exist between them.

“I should’ve guessed,” Jin-Chul corrects him, and Jin-Woo’s gaze finally slides back over to him, unwavering, mana-bright and almost fervent with something unspoken and straining against its leash. Jin-Chul shrugs lightly. “To be honest, I was going to ask. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but it probably would’ve been soon, if you didn’t mention it yourself first.”

He pauses, absently turning the cup around between his hands as he studies the micro-expressions flitting across Jin-Woo’s features.

“You have to have known,” Jin-Chul says quietly. “Not from the very beginning perhaps, but it’s been obvious for a while now, I think, that this was always where we were going to end up, sooner or later.”

It’s why Jin-Chul has never thought about finding a wife and settling down and starting a family, why he’s never been worried that Jin-Woo might one day take one of the ridiculous number of men and women constantly vying for his attention as far back as when he’d still been in university seriously. They’ve both dated occasionally here and there, but never for long, less and less as time went by, and basically not at all in recent years. With Jin-Woo, Jin-Chul has never pushed for more, for faster, content with the pace they’ve set, with friendship and companionship because those were just as important to him as the promise of something more that’s always been waiting for them to catch up one day.

There has never been any forks or detours along the path of their relationship. Their road has always only ever had one destination. And perhaps, when it comes down to it, it would be most accurate to say that Jin-Chul has never doubted his place in Jin-Woo’s life, because he has always known exactly where he stood in it.

Jin-Woo is still as stone for the longest time, and even when he moves again, Jin-Chul only catches the slight easing of his shoulders and the release of tension from his brow because he knows Jin-Woo, and he knows what to look for to understand such an emotionally contained man.

“I didn’t want to assume,” Jin-Woo says, more carefully than Jin-Chul’s heard from him in a while.

His eyes flicker away, then back, and something of that horrifying loneliness that had been far more persistent at the beginning of their re-acquaintance yawns open behind them like a bottomless pit.

“Humans weren’t made for eternity,” Jin-Woo tells him, and his voice rings with that otherworldly echo of the legacy he’d inherited. There is nothing human in his face now, not in the quicksilver flash of his teeth, not in the foxfire burn of his eyes. Someone with more sense would probably have run a long time ago. But Jin-Chul has never been afraid of Sung Jin-Woo, no matter what he looks like or what he’s become, and a godhood made visible isn’t going to change that.

“Then,” Jin-Chul says simply, steadily, with all the confidence of someone demanding what’s his by right. “Make me into something not human. You’ve already stopped me from aging; you might as well go the rest of the way. If you were waiting for me to catch on and give my permission, then of course you have it.”

He pauses, then adds, as earnestly as he knows how to be, all steel and steadfast calm, “I plan to stay with you for as long as you’ll have me, Jin-Woo, in any capacity you can accept. I hope you know that that’s a decision I settled on quite a few years ago, and it was never a particularly difficult one to make.”

He pauses again, just for a moment, for the space of time between the stutter of his heartbeat in his chest as his pulse races, and then he forges on, unfaltering because this too is a truth he feels down to his bones, and no matter how well they know each other, some things should still be said.

“You are very easy to love,” Jin-Chul admits, and he feels a little less nervous as Jin-Woo’s eyes widen, looking gratifyingly stunned, like he’d never expected Jin-Chul to say it outright. If this is the response he gets though, Jin-Chul can definitely see the appeal. “For me, there’s been no one else in a long time. I don’t find anyone else half as interesting, and certainly there is no one whose company I enjoy as much as I do yours, if that wasn’t obvious enough, with the amount of time I spend with you. And I don’t think I’ve been overly optimistic in believing that you feel the same-”

And that’s as far as he gets because the shadows around them are suddenly surging, swamping the snow at their feet, slithering over the bench and drifting over their legs. Half a second after that, his coffee is falling to the ground because there’s a hand in his hair, and another cradling the curve of his jaw, and there are lips on his lips, and Jin-Chul is far too occupied with pulling Jin-Woo even closer to think about where his drink has gone.

He’s short of breath by the time the kiss eases off into something less intense. Jin-Woo is little better, half-sprawled over Jin-Chul’s lap, eyes gleaming with naked hunger even as his fingers press near-bruises into Jin-Chul’s skin. Jin-Chul’s grip on the other’s hips is equally possessive, and even the winter chill around them doesn’t do much to cool the heat simmering between them.

“You have to be sure,” Jin-Woo says, voice gone rough around the edges. He’s still close enough to kiss, and that’s exactly what he does, licking into Jin-Chul’s mouth again with just a hint of teeth at its heels, and Jin-Chul groans under the onslaught, biting back into the kiss, one hand moving up to curl around the back of Jin-Woo’s neck to keep him in place. When they part again, his lips feel as swollen as Jin-Woo’s look. Jin-Woo stares back, eyes half-lidded and dark with arousal despite the flare of mana ringing his pupils, and Jin-Chul can’t help shuddering under that regard.

“You have to be sure,” Jin-Woo repeats. “If I-” He stops, blinks, and then forges on in low, almost urgent tones, “Twenty years ago, you regained your memories, and the first thing you chose to do was to let me know. You could’ve just kept pretending, you could’ve asked to forget - it would’ve been easier. But instead, you let me know that you knew, and that you were there, and that I could talk to you about any of it if I wanted to, and you kept coming back. Do you even how much that meant to me? Especially after I’d just spent twenty-seven years fighting a war, and then even my own dad came back one day remembering nothing, and the only people around me every day were a bunch of kids I could barely relate to. But then you were there, and you wouldn’t let me carry it all on my own, and I didn’t even realize how much I needed someone else to know until you insisted.”

He stops again, and Jin-Chul can’t look away from that fierce, near-blinding gaze.

“That’s why I need you to be sure,” Jin-Woo says once more. “Because if you tell me I get to keep you, I don’t know if I can be strong enough, and nice enough, to let you go if you end up changing your mind one day.”

And this time, it’s Jin-Chul who takes the initiative to kiss him, coaxing Jin-Woo into something less desperate and more gentle, humming approvingly when he feels the other melt into it. He’d love nothing more than to get his hands on more skin, but they’re still outside, and dressed for the weather to boot, so this will have to be enough for now.

“You’d let me go,” Jin-Chul murmurs against his lips. “You are kinder than you give yourself credit for.”

“And as always, you have too much faith in me,” Jin-Woo retorts, but some of the underlying apprehension from before has disappeared.

This is something they’ve long since agreed to disagree. Jin-Chul leans back, hands coming up to frame Jin-Woo’s face, thumbing over the faint flush in his cheeks with something like reverence.

“You’d let me go, if I asked,” Jin-Chul says with conviction. “But I would never ask, so what does it matter?”

Jin-Woo pulls back a little, still watching Jin-Chul like he’s looking for any trace of a lie. Eventually, he sighs, and one of his hands rise to brush back a few stray strands of Jin-Chul’s hair, tugging lightly before tucking them behind his ear. “This is getting long.”

“Hm, I haven’t had time to go to the barber’s,” Jin-Chul replies, turning his head a little into the feather-light touch of Jin-Woo’s fingers at his temple.

“But I like it like this,” Jin-Woo remarks, gaze slanting briefly to the way the longest strands fall just below Jin-Chul’s shoulders.

Jin-Chul smiles indulgently at him. “Then I’ll just go for a trim.”

Jin-Woo’s lips press together like he’s trying not to laugh, and then he shakes his head and chuckles anyway. He leans in and kisses Jin-Chul again, a brief brush of lips this time that Jin-Chul has no time to return before it’s over.

“Take the day off,” Jin-Woo murmurs, and the sly curve of his smile is all temptation.

As if Jin-Chul could go back to the office now of all times. He’d be distracted at best for the rest of the day, and the itch of it - of finally, openly acknowledging what Jin-Woo is to him, what he is to Jin-Woo, of knowing he can reach out and take - would seethe under his skin until he succumbed to it.

“Take us home then,” Jin-Chul says, and doesn’t bother specifying which. His apartment or Jin-Woo’s - they’ve both spent equal amounts of time in each.

Familiar arms pull him close, and shadows rise up all around them, blocking out the light of day, but Jin-Chul has never been afraid of the dark.

The two of them disappear, leaving an empty bench behind.

-0-

For someone normally so restrained, Jin-Woo kisses like he’s starved for touch and heat and pleasure. He gives Jin-Chul a moment to call in sick (”You were fine before lunch, sir??”), and then they’re tumbling into the bedroom, half their clothes already shed along the way.

Jin-Chul groans as Jin-Woo settles on top of him, and he doesn’t hesitate to run his hands under the other man’s shirt, over all that glorious bare skin he’s finally allowed to explore. Jin-Woo arches into his touch and kisses him again like he wants to stake a claim, like Jin-Chul isn’t already his. Their hips rock together for a moment, and then Jin-Chul makes a frustrated noise before nudging Jin-Woo back long enough to undo his belt and toss it to the floor.

“This is what you get when you need to wear a suit to work every day,” Jin-Woo mumbles as he dives in again, setting teeth to his neck and leaving a trail of stinging pleasure in his wake. Jin-Chul thinks briefly of reminding Jin-Woo that he can’t go into work with his throat all marked up, and then decides that high collars and scarves were invented for a reason.

“You love me in a suit,” Jin-Chul counters, busying himself with stripping Jin-Woo out of his shirt, and then rolling his eyes when Jin-Woo returns the favour by ripping his shirt down the middle and sending buttons flying. “Really?”

“I love you out of a suit too,” Jin-Woo says by way of explanation, sounding unrepentantly smug about it. He nips at Jin-Chul’s bottom lip, then flicks his tongue out to soothe the sting. “I’ll buy you another one later. You have a million of them in your closet anyway.”

Jin-Chul sighs somewhat helplessly before hooking a foot around Jin-Woo’s ankle and then flipping their positions. Jin-Woo doesn’t fight him, lying back complacently as Jin-Chul straddles him and smooths his hands down the firm lean muscles of his chest and abdomen.

“You are disgustingly perfect,” Jin-Chul laments. He keeps up with his own exercise, and now that he thinks about it, staying in shape is probably easier for him than other men his age, but Jin-Woo has the physique of a Hunter, and it shows.

Jin-Woo hums, reaching out with one hand to touch as well, smirking when Jin-Chul shivers as a calloused palm slides over his nipple before trailing down the ladder of his ribs, only stopping once he gets to the waistband of his pants.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” Jin-Woo tells him with that maddening sledgehammer candor he likes to pull out every now and then, and under the combination of a blatantly appreciative gaze and the fact that the man who said it has never been one for flattery, excessive or otherwise, Jin-Chul can feel a flush of embarrassed pleasure rising in his cheeks.

He covers it by stripping them both out of the rest of their clothes. Jin-Woo seems to sense it anyway because he laughs, amusement gentled with delight, and when he draws Jin-Chul into another kiss, it lingers in a way none of the previous ones had, slow and sensual as if he could never get enough. Jin-Chul moans into it, shifting his hips down to grind his cock against Jin-Woo’s, and it’s easy to get lost in it, in the slide of a body against his own and the building pleasure pooling in his gut. When he reaches between them to wrap a hand around their cocks, Jin-Woo finally makes a quiet noise at the back of his throat, one that becomes an aborted groan as Jin-Chul strokes them both to completion.

It barely takes the edge off, even if it does leave Jin-Chul a little breathless in the aftermath. Jin-Woo on the other hand doesn’t even get soft, and he’s driving them into a second round almost immediately. The world tilts as Jin-Woo flips them so that he’s on top again, eyes bright with mana once more as he stares Jin-Chul up and down like he doesn’t know where he wants to start.

Jin-Chul makes an amused sound and spreading his legs wider in clear invitation, one that Jin-Woo takes with heated eyes and a ripple of air as he retrieves some lube. And then his head dips, and Jin-Chul swears as teeth scrapes over one of his nipples before a hot mouth closes around it and sucks until he’s arching into it, swears again when Jin-Woo stops only to do the same to the other. And then there are slick fingers at his hole, and the world dissolves into heat and lust and pleasure as Jin-Chul drags the man back up for another messier kiss even as he rocks down on those fingers opening him up for more.

Jin-Woo spends long minutes prepping him, or rather, Jin-Chul squirms impatiently as a third finger teases at his prostate, never enough to satisfy, right up until he presses an insistent heel to Jin-Woo’s lower back and urges, “Come on, I’m ready, Jin-Woo, please-”

It gets him a searing look as Jin-Woo finally obliges, grasping his hips and lining up and sinking into him, thick and relentless and spreading him wide until Jin-Chul is gasping from the stretch.

Above him, Jin-Woo stills, eyes like foxfire even as he studies the shifting nuances of Jin-Chul’s features like he’s looking for any hints of aversion. Jin-Chul laughs somewhat breathlessly and clenches deliberately around Jin-Woo’s cock, pushing back to take him that much deeper just to get a feel for it. He releases a long pleased hum that in no way hides the stutter of Jin-Woo’s breath or the minute jerk of his hips, the latter of which only serves to make Jin-Chul close his eyes from the jolt of pleasure snapping up his spine.

Opening them again, he arches an eyebrow at the man looming over him. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Jin-Woo scoffs out something that could be amusement but mostly just comes out hungry. His grip on Jin-Chul’s hips tighten, and then he’s pulling back, only to snap his own hips forward a moment later, shoving a garbled cry out of Jin-Chul that Jin-Woo swallows as he catches his lips in another kiss, licking into his mouth like he wants to conquer him.

Jin-Chul wouldn’t be able to keep back all the noises he makes even if he wanted to as Jin-Woo fucks him into the mattress, hard and fast and just as greedy for it as Jin-Chul. His cock is hard and leaking, and he can feel himself hurtling towards his next orgasm even as he tightens his legs around Jin-Woo’s waist and pushes back into each thrust and bares his throat when Jin-Woo nuzzles at his neck. He comes just as Jin-Woo bites down, the shock of pain twining with the overwhelming pleasure as he shakes apart on Jin-Woo’s cock, choking on a moan when Jin-Woo never slows, fucking him straight through it.

Jin-Chul cusses and claws at Jin-Woo’s back but does nothing to stop him as his nerves buzz from the onslaught, and he tastes the ghost of laughter on Jin-Woo’s lips when they kiss again. By the time Jin-Woo groans and comes in him, Jin-Chul’s reaching his third peak, and a hand on his cock and half a dozen strokes is all it takes to topple him over the edge once more.

“So lovely,” Jin-Woo murmurs against his lips as Jin-Chul’s legs fall back to the bed, and he’s trembling as much from the quiet reverent words as he is from the way Jin-Woo is still rocking against him, slow, gentle, shallow thrusts that prevent Jin-Chul from coming down from the high of his climax. It goes on and on until cum is leaking from his ass and his voice is cracking on a plea, to stop, to keep going, and he’s all but spasming around the other’s cock, wanting to get away, wanting more.

Jin-Woo makes a smug but enquiring noise from somewhere above him. “Should I stop?”

Jin-Chul forces his eyes open, feeling shaky and wrecked, drenched in sweat and twitching from overstimulation. But he meets Jin-Woo’s gaze and licks his lips, somehow finding the breath to chuckle when Jin-Woo’s attention drops to the flash of his tongue like he can’t help himself.

There’s no way Jin-Chul is coming again, and even the tiniest movement from JIn-Woo feels like electricity dancing under his skin. But he stares up into the glow of power in Jin-Woo’s eyes, and feels the possessiveness in the hypnotic brush of a thumb over his hipbone, and Jin-Chul just... wants. Jin-Woo is still mostly hard inside him, and Jin-Chul wants him to take and take until there’s nothing left for Jin-Chul to give, wants to be consumed by the abyssal depths of Jin-Woo’s desire, wants most of all for this god-king to claim him and keep him and show the world exactly who Jin-Chul belongs to.

He releases a shuddering exhale before tilting his hips up and summoning the energy to squeeze down around the length inside him despite how loose and fucked out he feels. Jin-Woo’s eyes flutter, and his lips part, expression splintering with startled pleasure. Jin-Chul will never get tired of this, of how much Jin-Woo is willing to show around him when he’s so very controlled and reserved around everyone else. Part of that is Jin-Chul knowing how to read him since Jin-Woo has never been an overly expressive man anyway, but he’s also willing to bet that even Jin-Woo’s former bed partners hadn’t seen him like this. Jin-Woo would never have allowed it.

“One more,” Jin-Chul says hoarsely. He can’t come again, but Jin-Woo can, and Jin-Chul wants to feel it, the ache of it, wants to be forced to take it. He digs his nails into Jin-Woo’s shoulders and widens his legs like a challenge. “I can take it.”

Jin-Woo smirks down at him, a wicked curve that promises exactly what Jin-Chul is asking for.

“Brace yourself,” He says, and that’s all the warning Jin-Chul gets as strong hands slide under his back and haul him up until he’s sitting in Jin-Woo’s lap and impaled on that thick cock, and all the breath leaves his lungs in a string of curse words that may or may not be all in Korean. He’s held down, forced to adjust to the new angle, to how deep Jin-Woo feels inside him like this, and the burn of pain-pleasure leaves him whimpering and clutching at the other’s shoulders.

He feels more than hears the rumble of Jin-Woo’s laughter in his chest, and it takes a few hazy seconds for Jin-Chul to realize what’s caused it - his stamina is flagging, and his nerves are on fire, but he’s already shifting a little, rising a few inches up off that cock before sliding back down on it, riding him in small hitching motions of his hips until the sharp twisting ache of his hole is all he can focus on.

“You like this then,” Jin-Woo muses in even thoughtful tones that’s just unfair. Fingers feather over his balls before one of them skirts around the trembling rim of where they’re connected, not pushing in but applying a teasing sort of pressure anyway. Jin-Chul closes his eyes and doesn’t ask for it, but he doesn’t need to look to know that Jin-Woo is cataloguing every single one of his reactions, and indeed, Jin-Woo sighs almost wistfully but says, “Next time.”

When you’re less breakable, he doesn’t say, but Jin-Chul hears it anyway, and a part of him almost wants to lament the last clinging remains of his humanity.

And then even that slips away as hands find his hips again, lifting him up like he weighs nothing until only the tip of Jin-Woo’s cock is still inside him. Jin-Chul has time to catch a glimpse of a knife-sharp smirk and burning eyes, and then he’s being yanked down just as Jin-Woo drives his cock up, right into the core of him, and Jin-Chul howls with the feel of it, jerking futilely between Jin-Woo’s hands, no mercy to be found as Jin-Woo fucks him in steady demanding thrusts that hurts in all the best ways and sends the most excruciating pleasure coiling through the rest of his body.

He can’t come again, but he feels it when Jin-Woo does, feels the warmth of it inside him, hears the breathless moan in his ear, and sobs when a hand finds his half-hard cock and a thumb rubs over the wet head, and he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, but that hand is merciless, another comes up to tangle in his hair and tilt his head back before teeth and tongue ravage his mouth, and all of it drags him slowly but inexorably towards a fourth shattering orgasm.

It takes countless agonizing minutes before Jin-Chul finally comes again, jolting with the force of it, still split open on a cock so he has nowhere to go, a soundless cry trapped in his throat as he collapses into Jin-Woo’s chest, shivering uncontrollably from toomuchsogoodmorenomore oversensitivity.

He sinks into oblivion after that, too exhausted to fight it, and the last thing he registers is the press of a kiss to his temple and the comforting weight of an arm wrapping securely around him.

-0-

He wakes, hours later, loose-limbed and sated and clean, still shirtless but in fresh pajama pants, with bruises on his hips and the twinge of sore muscles just setting in. His tomorrow’s self will probably hate him. Or maybe not, because there’s water and a potion waiting for him, the latter of which just leaves him pleasantly sore instead. Even the marks on his neck only fade a little. Good thing it’s winter.

“I might have pushed too hard,” Jin-Woo admits as he bustles in with... Jin-Chul checks the clock - ah, dinner.

He also rolls his eyes and pulls Jin-Woo down for a brief kiss. “If I’d really minded, you would’ve known. Don’t fuss.”

He really did enjoy it, and he’d enjoy it more once he has the stamina to at least last a few more rounds.

“If I didn’t fuss, you wouldn’t get dinner in bed,” Jin-Woo points out dryly, and then laughs when Jin-Chul immediately holds out his hands for one of the trays.

Jin-Chul lingers on that, on how relaxed and open Jin-Woo looks right now, on how easy joy comes to him in this moment.

Jin-Chul would kill anyone who tries to take this away from him. He may have been a Hunter with more lines in the sand than most, but he’d also been the head of the Monitoring Division of the Korean Hunters Association, and one didn’t essentially become half-referee, half-babysitter of a country’s worth of murder-happy psychopaths by not knowing when to stand firm, when to yield, and when to make someone disappear. And when it came down to it, Jin-Chul had been Awakened at the very top of A-rank. He had a better handle on it, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever shied away from murder either, even if his position had always made it seem like a justifiable necessity to outsiders looking in.

(It’s why he calls Jin-Woo kind. Because Sung Jin-Woo never does anything he doesn’t want to do, what he says is what he does is what he means, and the choices he’s made each time lives are on the line speak for themselves. Jin-Chul doesn’t think him kind because he’s altruistic or heroic or particularly benevolent, although one could make arguments for all three. But no, Jin-Chul thinks him kind because Jin-Woo’s first instinct has always been to protect, and for a Hunter, no matter the rank or even class, or even just for a human, the extent of the protection Jin-Woo has always been willing to offer is rare. After all, how many people turned a blind eye to Jeju Island? How many did the same to Japan? And how many others would’ve turned back time and fought a near-thirty-year-long war on their own just to spare their fellow man all that future tragedy? Considering their track record, Jin-Chul would daresay not fucking many.

Jin-Woo once told him that becoming the Shadow Monarch stunted his emotions. Jin-Chul finds it ironically hilarious that someone with stunted emotions cares more than literally anyone else Jin-Chul has ever met in either of his lives.

“At least half the reason I went to Japan was because I wanted to fight the Giants, you know.”

“People aren’t one-dimensional, and you don’t hear me calling you a saint. You can want to fight and want to save lives at the same time.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“We make quite the pair then.”)

These days, he has no higher priority than Sung Jin-Woo. Killing someone in the name of hoarding all the secrets - big and small - that Jin-Woo leaves in his possession, knowingly or otherwise, is a negligible matter. Fortunately for everyone involved, Jin-Woo has never had the habit of divulging anything personal to veritable strangers. Only his family and his closest friends get the privilege, and even then, only Jin-Chul knows everything.

They spend the next few minutes eating in companionable silence, but Jin-Chul is well aware of Jin-Woo’s gaze on him, even if he doesn’t make it obvious. He finishes off half his plate before setting it aside and then reaching out to snag Jin-Woo by the wrist.

Jin-Woo makes it obvious this time.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jin-Chul says with a mild sort of reproach. “So unless you have, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

He feels Jin-Woo go still for a second, two, and then the man pulls back, but only far enough to regard him with ghost-light eyes. Finally, he shakes his head, then again as if for emphasis before offering a rueful smile. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. Sorry. I guess I’m still getting used to the... certainty of it.”

Jin-Chul scoffs. “It’s been certain for years.” But he does understand, so he also squeezes Jin-Woo’s wrist before letting go. “Although, there will be a problem if I stay looking this young forever.”

“Oh, that,” Jin-Woo waves a dismissive hand. “I can slowly age you on the surface, and you can do it yourself once you learn how. Well, not exactly the way I do it - pushing death back is the Shadow Monarch’s domain. But the stronger your mana, the longer your lifespan, and illusions - even ones that affect the physical plane - shouldn’t be too hard to get a hang of.”

Jin-Chul stops halfway from reaching for his food again. “...I don’t think my powers fall within that purview.”

Jin-Woo is already shaking his head. “I won’t be Awakening you the same way the Rulers did.” He pauses like he’s gathering his thoughts, and Jin-Chul turns back attentively because this is new information. “In the previous timeline, whenever Hunters Awakened, they were basically borrowing a certain amount of power from the energy that the Gates gave off. That’s how Norma Selner could remove your ‘limit’, so to speak - she had the ability to expand the amount of power that a Hunter could take in and use, but even then, there was a limit. That power, that mana, technically didn’t belong to the Hunter, so of course there was always a point where they couldn’t get any stronger, even after a Reawakening or an upgrade. Even class divisions were because it was easier on the human body when manipulating mana if Hunters just went with what they were best at. An Awakening like that can only ever be a substitute. I won’t be doing that.”

He leans forward, and this time, it’s Jin-Chul who goes motionless as the other man rests a hand against his chest, over the thud of his heartbeat.

“Every living thing in the universe is born with mana,” Jin-Woo explains. “It could roughly be translated to soul energy. It’s just that for humans, it’s still dormant because your species as a whole hasn’t developed far enough, and your bodies wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would be like... introducing a second circulatory system into your body on top of what you already have. The human body hasn’t figured out a way to support that yet.”

“But... I would be different,” Jin-Chul says slowly.

Jin-Woo shrugs. “You already are. I can’t change someone with a snap of my fingers - I’d probably blow them up or something. It’s a gradual process, and I’ve been working on you since-”

He breaks off abruptly, coughs, retrieves his hand, and then looks down at his food almost awkwardly. Jin-Chul stares at him for a moment before huffing a laugh, even as a thrilled sort of pleasure rears its head inside him.

He wonders, sometimes, which of them decided they wanted to keep the other first.

“It doesn’t hurt you,” Jin-Woo assures, as if that’s even a concern. “We could go our separate ways right now and the only thing that would happen is that you’d start aging again. Your mana would just stay dormant.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Jin-Chul scoffs. “Do I have to do anything?”

“To Awaken? No, that’s on me.” Jin-Woo blinks at him. “Um. Now?”

“No time like the present,” Jin-Chul says blithely.

Jin-Woo’s eyes narrow, but after a moment, he pushes aside his own food, rolls to his knees, and shuffles over until he’s right beside Jin-Chul. Jin-Chul blinks, moving easily when Jin-Woo curls a hand around the back of his neck and draws him close until their foreheads touch.

“It’s been certain for me too, for years,” Jin-Woo says bluntly. “I wouldn’t have bothered changing you if I wasn’t. Even my family - I’ve only slowed their aging down, nothing else.” He stops, and his grip tightens briefly. “You told me I didn’t have to be alone. I’m going to spend the rest of eternity holding you to your word, so I really hope you’re prepared.”

And then, before Jin-Chul can do more than take note of the way a last lingering knot of anxiety unravels inside him, Jin-Woo’s other hand is back against his chest, shadows flaring around them like stygian dusk-light, and all Jin-Chul can hear as he instinctively closes his eyes is the thunderous beat of his heart and the calamitous whispers of the dead and the savage roar of the eternal void that Jin-Woo commands.

When it happens, Jin-Chul almost misses it, and yet, at the same time, there’s no way he could. He remembers the first time he was Awakened in his previous life - it had been sudden and explosive, an overwhelming dizzying rush of power that had made him feel invincible, at least in the moment, and like everything around him was as fragile as glass and one wrong move might break it. Even after he’d settled, and the initial flood of mana had levelled out, he’d always been very aware of its presence, unmistakable and distinct, almost demanding to be used in the way Jin-Chul sometimes felt increasingly agitated if he went too long without entering a Dungeon. He’d thought it was just restlessness, sitting behind a desk too long, but on hindsight, with what he knows now of mana and Rulers and Monarchs and their eons’ worth of war games, perhaps that urgent need to hunt hadn’t all been his own.

It’s different, this time. This time, his Awakening feels like a sigh of relief in the dark, like puzzle pieces slotting into place, like the first breath of mountain air on a winter dawn. It fills his chest, fills his lungs, fills his whole body, and nestled behind his ribcage, behind his heart, in the depths of his soul, something blooms, all shades of purple like the horizon at sunset and just as ephemeral, delicate like the wings of a butterfly, but vibrant like birdsong and mountain streams and the first touch of colour on a cold spring morning.

Jin-Chul’s eyes fly open, and he’s gasping like he’s just run up a dozen flights of stairs. He feels the burn of mana in his eyes, familiar and foreign all at once, and when he looks down at his hands, purple light glitters faintly in his palms. It takes effort though, far more than he remembers ever needing, to regulate his mana, like flexing a muscle he’s never used before. He releases his grip on it then, lets it sink back into the tiny pool of power inside him, and it goes without protest, patient as bedrock and infinite in potential.

When he finally looks up again, Jin-Woo is watching him, smiling faint and pleased. Jin-Chul breathes in, then out, and somehow, it’s like he’s gained a piece of himself that he’d never noticed was missing before.

“I didn’t realize it was supposed to be like this,” Jin-Chul murmurs in a daze.

Jin-Woo hums something like agreement. “The Rulers’ method was pretty clumsy and heavy-handed. To be fair, they didn’t have the luxury to change the internal-” He waves a hand at Jin-Chul. “-of an entire species. But yeah, if that timeline had continued, with no more Gates to draw energy from, and human bodies that couldn’t generate the stuff without outside interference but were also already forced to accommodate mana, even in the best-case scenario, Hunters would’ve imploded on their own in a few more years.” His eyes darken. “People aren’t clay, but the Rulers pretty much stretched and moulded them like they were.”

Jin-Chul... is suddenly even more glad Jin-Woo had managed to convince the Rulers to turn back time. He’d never realized just how many problems the Rulers and Monarchs had brought with them to earth.

“Anyway,” Jin-Woo continues more briskly. “Your mana will grow the more you train it, just like anything else.” He flashes a surprisingly boyish smirk. “Maybe one day, you’ll even beat me.”

Jin-Chul straightens, the first stirrings of interest bubbling up inside him. They’ve gone to the gym for spars over the years, but obviously, it was never with mana on Jin-Woo’s part, and Jin-Chul has admittedly missed the sort of battles one could only ever get as a Hunter. The incessant urge to hunt had probably been something instilled in him by the Rulers. But he knows himself well enough to acknowledge that the desire for a good fight is all his own.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get strong enough to surpass Jin-Woo. The Shadow Monarch isn’t someone you just defeat. But if the only limit Jin-Chul has now is his own willpower, then he’s confident that he’ll at least be able to give Jin-Woo some decent competition one day.

Something of his thoughts must show on his face or seep into his mana because Jin-Woo’s eyebrows go up, and then he positively grins, all teeth and challenge, and the interest Jin-Chul feels not only doubles but also puts heat in his veins.

Out loud, in contrast, he only says demurely, “Perhaps. In the meantime though, I’ll be in your care. Do train me well.”

A moment later, almost faster than his eye can follow, he’s been knocked over and pinned to the bed, and it makes Jin-Chul laugh, breathless with rising excitement. Jin-Woo hovers over him, bright-eyed and smiling and beautiful.

“Mana signatures are troublesome,” The man tells him. “They broadcast a bit too much.” He squints with faux-accusation. “You’ve had four hours and a healing potion to recover. When did I become the voice of reason in this relationship?”

“I’m no longer the head of the Monitoring Division,” Jin-Chul says in deadpan tones. “I need to make up for all those years I spent soothing injured egos and cleaning up temper tantrums. I think it’s only fair you hold the position for a while.”

Jin-Woo snorts even as Jin-Chul adds, “Besides, I think the Awakening healed me the rest of the way.” He isn’t even sore anymore. Shame. He peers slyly up at Jin-Woo, who’s suddenly gone predator-still. “I was expecting to take another day off on account of not being able to walk properly, but I suppose if that’s not going to happen, I can just-”

Jin-Woo cuts him off with a growled, “You asked for it,” and then Jin-Chul has no more words as a fierce devouring kiss turns his laughter into a moan.

Instead, he winds his arms around his lover and arches up into the hard lines of his body, movements fuelled by lust but lacking any urgency.

They have all the time in the universe now, and Jin-Chul plans to savour every last minute of it.

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rexisnotyourwriter · 4 years ago

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by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming

After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.

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*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*

Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab

Chapter 1: The Restless Summer Air

The girl watched the toast pop up from the mint green Burlington toaster mere seconds after emitting the smell of the now charred breakfast. The toaster almost perfectly matched the vinyl covering on the kitchen chairs and the geometric pattern on the off-white linoleum flooring. The whole house, in fact, looked like it came straight out of a magazine, which, in all honesty, it had. Her mother had dog-eared the pages of the latest styles before they even bought the house. The kitchen, as noted, was mint and off-white themed. Clean and crisp. The living room, which flowed out from the kitchen, featured wood flooring adorned with a large ornate rug with a velvet baby pink couch and loveseat. The one piece that didn’t quite match the room was her father’s green-ish recliner. It was the sore thumb of the room that he refused to part with. The fireplace was surrounded by a brick mantle, on top of which was a wooden clock that ticked loudly. It was very nearly time for her to be on her way to school.

She sat in her usual seat at one end of the table watching her mother, who looked at the slightly charred toast with little regard and tossed it onto a plate. She watched as her mother haphazardly slathered it with strawberry jam. She was doing it wrong, again.

Across from the girl’s place at the kitchen table was a full breakfast plate - two fried eggs, two pieces of (unburnt) toast, buttered, and three sausage links - next to a cup of coffee. The sun shining in from the living room illuminated the steam willowing out from the top of the mug like smoke from a chimney. It curved and swirled upwards, slithering almost, until it disappeared.

“Ed!” her mother called, for the fourth time, more shrill than the previous three.

She plopped the plate of toast in front of her daughter before grabbing her “secret” pack of cigarettes from the kitchen drawer. When the girl heard the back door open and the strike of a match, she got up from her seat to grab the jar of jam and knife that were still on the counter. She dipped the knife gingerly into the jar and spread jam into the forgotten corners of the toast, but not so near the crust that her fingers would get sticky when she ate it. Then, she cut the toast diagonally.

“Morning,” her father smiled at his daughter as he entered the kitchen. She smiled back, but her mouth was too full of toast to return his greeting. He was in one of his nicer suits today, the dark blue one, with a silk paisley tie. His coat was already swung over his arm, his hand clutching his briefcase beneath it. He blew quickly and gently on his coffee a few times before gulping some down, wincing. Still too hot. He gave up on it, and turned to leave. The girl’s smile dropped.

“What are you doing?” her mother’s voice came from behind her.

“Going to work, dear, like I do every morning,” he replied cheekily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He paused, annoyed by the delay. His eye spied the full plate of food at his spot.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time to eat.”

He moved to leave.

“You’re supposed to bring her to school today.”

“Hun, I’ve got a meeting first thing. I really gotta go.”

“I have a hair appointment-”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Kat-”

“Ed, you promised that you-”

“I hardly think your hair is-”

“That’s not the point-”

“Don’t forget who pays for your hair to look like that.”

“Here we go.”

“I’m not doing this now, end of discussion.”

He grabbed a piece of toast from his plate and shoved it into his mouth before leaving out the front door.

Her mother slammed the back door shut. She hastily untied her apron and threw it on the counter, then rushed off to the powder room to fix her hair and put on some make up.

The girl finished her toast in almost complete silence, but for the steady ticking of the clock.

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

The Academy basement was almost always dark when Gregg got in. Today was no exception. He enjoyed being the first one there. The more work he got done sooner, the better change he had of making it home for dinner. Granted, he didn’t always make it, but he made the effort, and that was enough for his wife. Plus, the mornings were quiet. He could get settled, organized. It was a different kind of quiet from the late nights. The morning quiet felt promising, hopeful in a way. The evening quiet was a slow drag, your thoughts muddled with too much information that had accumulated over the course of the day into a tangled ball of yarn.

They had a coffee maker now, and an electric kettle. Some of the perks of the increased funding and attention the Behavioral Science Unit had received. Gregg would make a strong pot, stronger than he liked it. He was the odd one out in the team who preferred weaker coffee, so he would make it strong for their sake and add hot water to his mug until it was tempered to his liking.

On this particular morning, Wendy was the next to arrive. She and Gregg exchanged silent greetings as she hung up her coat before retiring to her office. A stack of files was waiting for her on her desk, but it was only a partial set. The remaining files were in her briefcase, having been read the night before. She took them out and placed them in their own pile on her already busy desk. The “done” pile. Though not “done” as in finished with; “done” as in read and flagged with numerous Post-it Notes.

The interviews had been behind ever since the Atlanta case, even though that was closed over a month ago. The phone had been ringing almost constantly with police from every county thinking every slightly disturbing murder was the work of a deranged psychopath. Poor Gregg was getting the brunt of the phone duty, which sucked up his time on more important work. They did get an answering machine, but between checking the tapes and the stacks of unsolicited faxes that would come through, it was becoming a full time job to sift through it all.

Wendy heard the main door open and wondered if it was Bill. She got up from her desk to check. She needed coffee, anyways.

It was Holden. A few weeks ago, he would’ve asked her if Bill was in yet, but his late arrival was a regular occurrence by now. They exchanged their usual good morning head nod as Wendy exited to obtain her caffeine fix.

Some papers floated off the edge of the fax machine tray, which was still spitting out pages.

“How long has this been going on?”

Gregg, fully immersed in a recording, didn’t hear Holden.

“Gregg,” he said louder.

Gregg paused the tape and removed his headphones.

“When did this start?” Holden asked, picking up the pages from the floor and stacking them, along with the rest, next to the fax machine.

“I’m not sure. It was empty when I got in this morning.”

Holden sighed as he gave a few of the pages a cursory glance. Nothing excited him.

Wendy returned armed with two cups of coffee. She gave the coat rack a scan for Bill’s coat, but it was still absent.

“Hey,” Holden said, making his way over to Wendy. “Do you think we should’ve told him yesterday?”

“He had already gone home.”

Holden looked at the second coffee cup in Wendy’s hand, waiting for her to offer it to him.

“Yeah, I know. But should we have called him?”

Wendy shook her head.

“He doesn’t need to be dealing with work when he’s at home.”

The hypocrisy of her advice isn’t lost on either of them. Holden’s not exactly innocent either.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

“There’s not much we can do.”

Holden looked at the coffee again. This time Wendy noticed.

They’re interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the hall. Moments later, Bill walked in, without a coat, looking slightly worse for wear than usual, with a manic glint in his eye.

“Morning, Bill,” Wendy said.

“Morning,” he responded reactively, not bothering to look in her direction.

He stood at the coat rack for a moment before realizing he didn’t need to be there, then headed to his office.

Holden and Wendy shared a look. She’s got this. Wendy followed Bill, both cups of coffee still in her hand, leaving Holden to fend for himself.

Wendy leaned against the doorway of Bill’s office while he settled himself. She half expected the inside of his briefcase to be a slough of loose files, but he pulled out a single tidy, albeit thick, folder.

Wendy said nothing.

Bill sighed and finally looked up at her.

“Look, I appreciate the concern.”

“Bill-”

“I do. But what I really need right now is to not be treated like I’m a…a bird with a broken wing, or a child.”

He paused.

“Or some other helpless thing, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know I look like shit.”

“I’ve seen worse.”

He almost smiled.

“While Holden and I share some…concerns,” she continued. “That’s not entirely why I’m here.”

Wendy stepped inside his office, closing the door behind her, and took a seat, placing one of the coffee cups in front of Bill.

“Gunn came down here yesterday, after you left-”

“Shit.”

“He knows there’s something going on, more than whatever it is you’re telling him.”

Bill leaned his forehead into this hand, rubbing his temples.

“He really likes playing us off each other, doesn’t he.”

“It’s actually rather smart, if you think about it,” Wendy responded wryly. “He knows by now that we talk to each other about this kind of stuff, and that Holden and I have a better chance of getting through to you than he does.”

Bill finally took note of the coffee in front of him and gulped some down.

“What did you tell Gunn?” he asked.

“Nothing. I said I wasn’t specifically sure what was going on outside of work and assured him that we were catching up from time lost during the Atlanta case.”

“Is that true?”

“Marginally.”

He scoffed.

“But that’s not your fault,” she added.

They sat in the silence of a mutual understanding that nothing either of them could say would change the reality of the situation.

Wendy shifted in her seat, about to stand up, when Bill interrupted her.

“Brian answered the phone this morning.”

She opened her mouth, but no words formed.

Every day since Nancy left with Brian, Bill had been calling her parents in Connecticut. There was nowhere else she could’ve gone to. She had no siblings, and had too much pride to confide in any of their friends.

“I called this morning, expecting to leave another voice-mail, but after two rings it stops. I hear breathing. Background noise from the kitchen. Bacon sizzling.”

Each word is harder for Bill to say out loud, but he keeps his composure. Wendy can feel it, though.

“And then I hear Nancy freak out, telling Brian to hang up the phone. Then…”

He imitated a dial-tone.

“I don’t know what to do, Wendy.”

She exhaled softly. She wasn’t sure either.

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

“Thanks for the coffee.”

That was her cue to leave. She paused in the doorway, and turned back around.

“You don’t have to tell Gunn everything. Just, something with a grain of truth. Enough that he feels you’re being honest with him and will give you some leeway.”

“I will.”

“Sooner rather than later.”

Bill nodded.

“He’s out today, yeah?” She nodded back. “I’ll tell him next week. Promise.”

Wendy left him with a sympathetic smile.

Holden was finally settled at his desk when Gregg interrupted him.

“I’ve got an Arthur Osborn on the line. Alaska State Trooper. He’s got a case that I think it worth looking into.”

Don’t they all.

“And he asked for me specifically?”

“You or Bill, but I figured…”

“Yeah, sure, put him through.”

A moment later, Holden’s phone rang.

“Special Agent Holden Ford.”

“Agent Ford, thanks for taking my call.” Osborn’s voice was deep and had a midwest lilt. Definitely not a native Alaskan.

“How can I help?”

“We’ve had four young women found dead in less than two years. All of them under 21. The youngest,” his voice cracked, “was eleven.”

Holden waited for him to compose himself.

“They were noted as missing before the bodies were found,” Osborn continued. “Two months ago, Lori King, 18, was reported missing. We think it was the same guy. We want to find him before she ends up like the others.”

“Of course. What condition were the bodies in when they were found?”

Osborn took a deep breath. “There was significant decomp by the time we found them.”

“Anything notable in how they were staged?”

“Staged?”

“Yes. Positioned. When you found them, were they sitting up, lying down, what were their arms and legs doing…”

“Nothing particular, really, I don’t think. We have photos.”

“Good. It’s possible this is the same unsub, but I’ll need to look at everything you’ve got on it.”

“Yes, Agent Ford.”

“Did you already fax us the files?” Holden was already dreading having to dig the related pages out of the stacks.

“What? No, no. We thought we better call first.”

“Good thinking. Send them through when you get a chance. We’ll take a look.”

“Thank you.”

Less than thirty minutes later, the fax machine started printing.

Later that afternoon, Holden gathered the rest of the team in the war room to review the Fairbanks case files. It turned out Osborn was right in his suspicion that this could be the work of the same unsub.

“Our first victim is Glinda Sodemann, 19. Newly wed and a new mother. She went missing from her home in North Pole on August 29, 1979.”

Holden pinned a photo of Glinda onto the board.

“Her husband came home to the baby asleep in the crib and Glinda gone. There were no signs of foul play, and no indication that she would have had a reason to run away. Two months later, her decomposing body was found near Moose Creek, just over twenty miles south of Fairbanks, in a gravel pit near the highway.”

Next to the smiling black and white yearbook photo of Glinda, Holden pinned the photo from the dump site.

“She was shot in the face with a .38 caliber. The pistol cartridge was found next to the body. There were no signs of sexual assault.”

“Did they look into the husband,” Bill interjected.

Holden nodded.

“He was their prime suspect for a while. Even failed a polygraph. But there was no evidence.”

The next photo Holden put up was of an even younger girl.

“Almost a year after Glinda disappeared, 11-year-old Doris Oehring goes missing from North Pole. Her and her older brother were riding their bikes on June 11. She had ridden ahead of him, and when he caught up to her he saw her talking to a man with a blue car. The hood was popped open as if he had engine trouble. As soon as her brother got closer, the man slammed the hood, got back in his car, and sped off. Two days later, Doris disappeared.”

“Were they able to get a description from the brother?” Gregg asked.

“They got a rough sketch,” Holden answered, adding said sketch to the board. “The brother said he thought the man was wearing a blue shirt that looked like a uniform.”

“Military?” Wendy suggested.

“Air Force.”

“There’s a base in Fairbanks,” Bill added.

“They found Doris’ bike hidden in the bushes near her home. A witness said they saw a blue car near that area around the time of her disappearance. The driver appeared to be struggling with someone or something in the seat next to him.”

“Fuck,” Bill muttered under his breath.

“They also said it looked like he had a military haircut. Now, based on all of the descriptions of the perpetrator, the state troopers got a list of every single blue car that was registered to drive on the Eielson Air Base. Anyone want to guess how many names are on that list?”

They looked around at one another.

“One hundred?” Gregg suggested.

“550,” Holden responded. “They questioned Glinda’s husband again. This time the polygraph was inconclusive.”

The team collectively rolled their eyes at that cursed word.

“They brought a polygraph expert in after that to question him again. They said that he had an irregular heartbeat that made it impossible for him to pass a polygraph. It would always show either as failed or inconclusive. Due to lack of alternative evidence, they had to remove him as a suspect, at least for Doris’ disappearance.”

They fell silent, processing the implications of this information. How many people failed a polygraph because of a heart condition?

“The third disappearance happened January 31,” Holden continued. “Marlene Peters, the oldest victim so far at age 20. She was last seen hitchhiking from Fairbanks to Anchorage to visit her sick father. Now, initially, there wasn’t enough reason to think that her disappearance was connected to the others. Five weeks later, Wendy Wilson, 16, goes missing. She was also last seen hitchhiking, and a witness saw her get into a white pickup in Moose Creek. They found her body three days later, over thirty miles south of Fairbanks. She had been strangled and then shot in the face. Two months later, Marlene’s body was found in similar condition, not far from where Wendy’s had been. Which also happened to be very close to -”

“Eielson Air Base,” Bill finished.

“Bingo. The latest disappearance occurred a couple days after they found Marlene’s body. Lori King, 19.” Holden puts Lori’s photo on the board. “She was last seen walking alone in Fairbanks.”

“Did they ever find Doris Oehring?” Wendy asked.

“No. They’ve searched near the air base and all the areas where the other bodies were found, but no sign of Doris, or Lori.”

Holden took a step away from the board, indicating his descent into theorizing.

“He’s single. Lives alone. Definitely has issues with women.” The team all nodded in agreement. “Probably has a hard time holding a job. He has a history with the military, but I don’t think he’s part of the Air Base.”

“Even though it’s close to the dump site of the victims,” Gregg inquired.

“It’s more notable that the bodies were dumped off the highway. It doesn’t feel like it’s about the proximity to the Air Base,” Holden replied. “So, why does he shoot them in the face?”

“To hide their identity?” Gregg suggested.

Wendy shook her head.

“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s a relatively tight knit community. People know that these women are missing, and identifying them wouldn’t be that difficult, even after their faces had been shot. It’s more about substitution. He’s taking them and killing them in place of the person - woman - that his aggression is actually directed at. Once they’re dead, he sees that they didn’t fulfill the fantasy in the way that he wanted, so he disfigures their face to erase their identity in order to satisfy his illusion.”

Gregg nodded.

“I disagree about the military aspect, however,” she continued. “I think it’s highly likely he does work at the Air Base in some capacity.”

“Because of the haircut and the blue car?” Holden responded.

“And the uniform. The location of the bodies. The evidence we’ve accumulated from other cases. He likely has disciplinary issues, maybe even a history of abusive behavior towards women.”

“Okay.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he also had a history of institutionalization,” Bill added. “He feels tangibly unhinged.”

“Okay,” Holden repeated. “I think we’ve got a good basis for a profile.”

Holden faced the team, hands on his hips.

“Hey, we should grab a drink later. It’s been a while.”

“I got to get home to the family,” Gregg replied.

Holden gave him an understanding smile as Gregg grabbed his notebook and left the war room. He turned and looked expectantly at Bill and Wendy, his real targets.

“Come on, it’s a Friday. We’ll go to The Fern.”

“I don’t think so, Holden,” Wendy declined.

“Yeah, I’m not really feeling it tonight,” Bill added.

Holden shot Wendy a look. For Bill’s sake.

She contemplated, and gave in.

“Alright,” she conceded. “Come on, Bill. I’ll go if you do.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

“My other condition,” Wendy added, “is that we find a new place.”

“What happened? I thought you liked going to The Fern?”

She shrugged.

“It wasn’t as great as I thought it was.”

Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” was playing upon their arrival at The Velvet Arrow. It was not as full, or as dive-y, as The Fern, but it was certainly more bizarre in its decor. The walls were covered in a mix of Native American art and 1950s advertisements. The bar stools, true to the name, were covered in red velvet (and stains) that reminded one of movie theater seats. Thankfully, the booths where they chose to sit were vinyl.

“I’ve got the first round,” Holden offered. “Bill?”

“Bourbon.”

Holden turned to Wendy.

“White wine. Thanks.”

When Holden was safely out of earshot, Wendy leaned in towards Bill.

“Did you tell him about this morning?”

Bill shook his head.

“Okay.”

It was understood that the phone call with Brian stayed between them. They both agreed that Holden needs to know enough of what’s going on to not be a dick, but not so much that he gets too involved.

“It really feels like we’re his parents sometimes,” Wendy noted.

Bill exhaled loudly through his nose.

“That kid, I tell ya.”

They shared a small laugh as Holden returned with their drinks.

“What’s so funny?”

“Wendy just told a great joke,” Bill replied.

She cut him a glare, tempered with a smirk.

“Wendy told a joke?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” she replied, more defensively than intended.

“No, I mean -” Holden flustered. “You’re…funny.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why do I feel like I was the joke,” he added.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Bill grinned.

Wendy sipped her wine. At least it was better than whatever they had at The Fern, not that The Velvet Arrow’s was in any way exceptional. She scanned the rest of the bar. It was mostly men, military looking men at that. A few of them were here with what appear to be girlfriends, or at least hopefuls.

Her heart stopped. A woman at the bar, a customer, back turned. Her slight frame and long straight brown hair were familiar. No. It couldn’t be.

She gulped down more of her wine, unable to turn her eyes away, just in case the woman turned her head to get confirmation or denial.

“How about it, Wendy?” Holden asked.

She turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Darts. Wanna play?”

“Um...”

“Come on,” Bill coaxed.

“Fine.”

While the men got up, Wendy stole a glance back at the woman. Her profile was in full view now, and it was a face she didn’t recognize. She let out a small sigh of relief.

“You coming?” Holden asked.

“Hmm? Yes.”

She anticipated how poorly she’d do. Bill and Holden assuredly had low expectations.

“Ladies first,” Bill said, handing Wendy a dart.

She slowly shook her head at him, a slight smile on her face, and took the dart. It was heavier than she expected. It was just like archery, right? She did that once, at a summer camp. Poorly.

Wendy stared down the dartboard.

Square up. Shoulders to the pins.

Kay’s voice came into her head. She positioned herself.

Now, put your weight on your left foot.

She did.

Take a deep breath and just do it.

Wendy fired the dart.

It stuck two inches from the center.

Bill and Holden didn't bother to hide their surprise, nor their delight.

“40 points,” Holden exclaimed.

“Nicely done, Dr. Carr,” Bill beamed.

“Looks like we’ve got to step it up, Bill,” Holden added.

The game ended with Bill winning both rounds; Wendy and Holden earned a second and a third place ranking each. The trio walked out to the parking lot in the warm summer air. It still smelled like smoke, but it was fresher than inside the bar at least.

“See you Monday, then,” Holden said.

They waved their goodbyes and entered their respective vehicles. Wendy was about to pull out when she heard an engine struggling.

It was Holden’s.

She looked around and saw that Bill had already driven off. Holden looked at Wendy from across the parking lot. Their eyes met. There was no escaping now.

She got out of her car and walked over.

“Need a jump?”

Holden sighed. “I think so. Bill’s gone already?” She nodded. “Do you have cables?”

“I can check.”

Wendy looked in the back of her car and the trunk, but no luck. She returned to Holden empty handed.

“I’ll call a tow truck,” he concluded.

“At this hour?”

Holden shrugged.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” she offered. “You can deal with it in the morning.”

Holden willingly agreed.

Wendy turned on the radio, hoping it would keep Holden’s small talk at bay.

“So how do you think Bill’s doing? Like, really?” he asked.

She thought about it.

“I think he’s handling it as well as he knows how. I mean, how is someone even supposed to cope with your wife leaving with your child while you’re gone, with no contact whatsoever?”

“I offered him one of my Valiums the other day,” Holden said casually.

“You did what?”

“You know, just to maybe help take the edge off.” Wendy shook her head. “He declined, by the way.”

“You really shouldn’t be offering prescription drugs to people.” As if it needed saying.

“Well, when you phrase it like that,” he smirked. “Left up here, then I’m on the right.”

Wendy turned and pulled up to Holden’s building. He took off his seatbelt, but didn’t get out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Wendy.”

She smiled politely. He smiled back, still not making any move to leave.

“Do you want to come in?” he offered. “For a cup of coffee, or something?”

“Uh, no. Thank you.”

Holden wasn’t phased by the rejection, which only made Wendy more convinced he would keep trying.

“Okay.” He opened the door to leave. “Drive safe.”

She nodded. He closed the car door behind him.

Wendy saw him in her mirror standing outside, watching her drive away, before disappearing inside.

#op*#mindhunter #mindhunteredit #mindhunter fic #a tide in a city #wendy carr #bill tench #holden ford #gregg smith #ted gunn #it has been 84 years since i posted a fic

35 notes · View notes

americasass91 · 4 years ago

Note

This is my stucky fic idea. Basically after this dream of bucky’s, Steve has (coincidentally) started showing off his strength to him. One day, Bucky is horny and randomly asks Steve if he could bench press him. Steve’s gets cocky and replies by flexing before easily benching Bucky. After showing off, Steve lets Bucky feel his muscles, and then after a while he lifts him to the bed for smut. This isn’t dream, and is not yet an offical request. If you do accept, do you need me to post this again?

Well hello again! Here is my second Stucky request for this lovely Anon! I hope it’s to your liking. This is a part 2 to this 👉🏻Hidden Feelings. But it can be read as a stand alone. I did tweak this just a bit. But it’s still filled with Stucky goodness! This might be my last Stucky fic for a little while. I’m still not 100% comfortable writing them. But I couldn’t let this anon down! I hope it’s what you had in mind!

Revealed Feelings

Rating: Explicit (literally almost all of my fics are😂)

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, m/m, hand jobs, cum, Bucky and Steve admitting feelings, language

💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼

Ever since Bucky had that very erotic dream about Steve, he’s been avoiding him like the plague.

He had told himself it was just because he was horny. That he couldn’t want his best male friend in a sexual way. But that all got shot to hell when he decided to take home a girl he met in a bar the other night.

He had no problems getting going. He was actually enjoying himself as he bent Stacy? Stephany? Sylvia? over the back of his couch and was plowing into her from behind. Enjoying the little moans coming from her mouth. He had a tight grip on her hip with his metal hand and had the other buried between her legs.

He could feel her coming and normally that’s when he would let go as well. But he just couldn’t get there. He slowed down a little to let her come down from her high. But then picked right back up into his brutal pace when he felt her walls stop fluttering around him. He had better stamina than he thought.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her up so her back was to his front. She was moaning like a pornstar. Telling him to go faster and harder. He obliged. He moved his hand back down and started rubbing her clit again. This time she started moaning his name.

He opened his eyes and looked down at where they were connected. Even that wasn’t bringing him closer to the edge. He was starting to get frustrated with himself when he looked up and his gaze fell forward. That was a mistake.

Right there sitting on his tv stand were pictures. And of course there was one of him and Steve. Shit. Steve looked so fucking good in that picture. He and Bucky had their arms around each other. They had just run a marathon for charity.

Bucky couldn’t help but admire Steve’s arms in the picture. The way the veins were protruding out. He could tell Steve was flexing.

Bucky started fucking Samantha? even harder. He couldn’t help but let his gaze wander down Steve’s body. Once again he was wearing a shirt that didn’t fit him. Then Bucky’s gaze got to Steve’s crotch. He had never noticed the bulge in the picture before. He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his mouth. He started thinking about what that would feel like in his hand or better yet, his mouth.

As Bucky’s thoughts wandered to what Steve’s mouth would feel like on him, he came without warning. He just about moaned Steve’s name out loud. Thank god he was able to hold that back. Sally? didn’t even seem to notice his withdrawn state. He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants and promised he’d call her as he rushed her out as politely as he could.

So that’s why he was currently hiding out in the communal library. He knew Steve spent a majority of his Saturdays either working out or planning missions. Bucky figured he was safe here. Boy was he wrong.

“Barnes!”

Bucky jumped at the sudden intrusion and looked up to see Nick Fury walking towards him.

“Sergeant Barnes. I hope you’re doing well this evening.” He doesn’t even give Bucky time to reply before he’s handing him over a file. “Could you see to it that Captain Rogers gets this immediately? It contains important information on his upcoming mission. I’d take it to him myself but I’m rather in a bind and have somewhere important I need to be.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a minute. He just looks from the file back to Fury’s face, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he can’t take the file to Steve.

He’s about to open his mouth when Fury cuts him off. “Look I know you and I got off on the wrong foot but this shouldn’t be a task you have to think this hard about. Aren’t you and Captain Rogers attached at the hip?”

Bucky was about to argue but then thought better. He goes to stand and grabs the file from Fury. “It’ll be no trouble, sir. I’ll see that Captain Rogers gets this right away.”

Fury nods his head in thanks. “I appreciate this Barnes. Thank you.” With that he turns to exit the other side of the library.

Bucky looks down at the file as if it’s offended him. Shit. Well he was going to have to face Steve sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. He looks up towards the ceiling.

“FRIDAY? Could you please tell me where Captain Rogers is?”

“Captain Rogers is in his living quarters. Would you like me to tell him you’re on your way?”

“That won’t be necessary. It’ll be a quick visit. Thank you.”

Bucky takes off towards the direction of Steve’s room. He hoped he wasn’t interrupting anything important. Maybe Steve was just relaxing? Taking a rest after a long week? Psh like he ever rests. He’s probably filling out mission reports. He’s such a nerd.

Bucky gets to his door and takes a couple deep breaths before knocking. Preparing for when he’ll see Steve’s handsome face.

When he thinks he’s ready, Bucky knocks.

He doesn’t have to wait very long before Steve answers the door.

Steve who wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Steve whose shorts were so low on his hips that Bucky could see that perfect V practically directing him towards his cock.

Steve who was all sweaty from a workout Bucky had apparently interrupted.

Steve who had no idea how hard he had just made his best friend.

Fuck.

Steve smiles at his best friend. “Hey, Buck! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Bucky’s brain has short circuited. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of Steve’s chest.

Steve notices where Bucky’s eyes are trained. He can’t help but smirk and start flexing a little. “You like what you see?”

Bucky snaps out of it and raises his gaze to Steve’s face. “Sorry, man. It’s just. Are you getting bigger? Hitting the gym even more?” Bucky hoped that poor excuse would suffice as to why he was ogling his half naked best friend.

Steve’s smirk turns cocky. “Yeah actually I have. Trying to buff up a little bit. You know, impress the ladies.”

Bucky couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “Yeah, like you have trouble with the ladies. You hook up with what? 3-4 a week?” He makes his way inside and can’t help but notice the small gym that has taken up residence in Steve’s living room.

Steve heads over to grab a water bottle from the fridge. “Well, usually. I actually haven’t hooked up with anyone for a few weeks now.” He heads back over to stand in front of Bucky. He glances down and notices the file in his hand. “Is that for me?”

Bucky follows Steve’s gaze down to the file he’s still holding. He had forgotten all about it. He hands it over to Steve. “Yeah, this is from Fury. He said it was for your upcoming mission.”

Steve takes the file and sets it on his coffee table. “Thanks, man. How did you end up with it?”

Bucky shrugs. “I was in the library when I ran into him. He asked me to bring it to you. So here I am. Looks like I interrupted your workout though. Sorry. Why aren’t you working out in the gym?”

Bucky notices the blush that creeps up on Steve’s face. “Um, well. I got banned from the gym for a few weeks by Tony.”

Bucky chuckles and crosses his arms. “What the hell did you do, punk?”

Steve rolls his eyes at the nickname. “Well it was when I was sparring with Sam and a group of girls were watching us. I’ll admit I was showing off a bit and not paying attention and accidentally knocked over a row of treadmills. So i’m not allowed back in until I learn, as Tony put it, ‘Proper Gym Etiquette’ or some bullshit like that.”

Bucky starts laughing and looks around the makeshift gym. “Oh, yeah. That was hilarious! Definitely made me stop my workout because I was laughing so damn hard. Well looks like you don’t even need the gym. You have everything you could need right here.”

Steve shakes his head. “Not everything. I don’t have a bench press. Which sucks because that’s a part of my normal routine.”

Bucky’s next words fly out of his mouth faster than what his brain can process. “You could bench me if you want.”

Steve raises a curious eyebrow at Bucky. “What? Buck I can lift a hell of a lot more than what you weigh.” He flexes his biceps at Bucky, making the veins in his arms protrude out.

Bucky feels his cock twitch in his pants. Shit. “Yeah, but it would be better than nothing right?”

Steve pretends not to notice Bucky’s growing bulge and shrugs. “I guess you’re right. You wouldn’t mind?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nope. Anything to help you out, punk.”

Steve chuckles and lays down on the mat he had stolen from the gym. “Alright then. I guess you can lean back into my hands? I’ll hold you between your shoulder blades and your upper left thigh?”

Bucky can’t help the shiver that wracks his body. “Um, yep. That’ll work.”

He knows his erection is now straining against his shorts. He’s hoping to whatever god is listening that Steve won’t notice.

Oh, Steve notices.

He can’t help the twitch he feels his own cock make. This is why he hasn’t been hooking up with anybody lately. He’s been having some not so friendly thoughts about his best friend recently. He’s been doing his best to keep them hidden. There’s no way Bucky would reciprocate them, right?

That’s why he’s been showing off in the gym more. Not for the girls. He’s been seeing if he can get a rise out of Bucky. He knows he’s looked like a douche what with all the flexing and wearing shirts that don’t fit him. And judging from the bulge in Bucky’s shorts, it’s working.

Bucky clears his throat to get Steve’s attention. “Ready?”

Steve holds his hands up and nods his head. Bucky leans back onto them. Steve readjusts his grip, making sure he won’t drop Bucky.

Bucky is trying his best not to let out a whimper. This is so much better than his dream. Steve’s hands on him feel like heaven. And when Steve starts to lift him? Bucky almost came right then and there.

Steve notices the shivers going down Bucky’s spine. He decides to turn it up a notch. He starts grunting unnecessarily every time he lifts Bucky up. He hears the little whimper escape Bucky’s mouth. That little noise goes straight to Steve’s cock. Which is now uncomfortably straining against his shorts.

“Um, okay Buck. I’m done.” He puts Bucky back down as gently as he can.

Bucky turns around and looks down at Steve confused. Only to then notice Steve’s eyes are trained on his erection. Steve quickly stands up, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s hard as well. Bucky can’t help but notice it. Jesus. Maybe Steve does feel the same way.

Steve can’t help but start flexing again. Loving the effect he’s having on Bucky.

Bucky’s eyes travel up over Steve’s body again. His bottom lip between his teeth as he watches his muscles become more prominent.

Steve decides to make a move. “You can touch them if you want.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. He runs his right hand over Steve’s bicep, earning him a moan from the blonde super soldier. He then moves his hand over to his pec and gives a nice squeeze. “Fuck, Bucky. You’re driving me crazy here.”

Bucky smirks and trails his hands down his abs. He reaches the waistband of Steve’s shorts and looks back up at him.

The heat between them is stifling.

Bucky raises his eyebrows as if daring Steve to make the first move.

Fuck it.

Steve grabs Bucky by the back of the neck and pulls him in for a bruising kiss. Bucky reacts quickly and grabs onto Steve’s bicep and gives another squeeze. Steve groans and grinds his cock against Bucky’s, desperate for some friction. Bucky pulls Steve closer and grinds back against him.

Steve can’t take it anymore. He pulls out of the kiss and lifts Bucky up and throws him onto his nearby bed. Steve takes just a second to admire the beautiful man in his bed. Lips red and swollen from his kissing. Cheeks and chest flushed. Chest rapidly rising and falling with every breath. And a beautiful erection begging to be let free.

Steve growls and quickly climbs on the bed next to Bucky until he’s laying beside him. He pulls Bucky back in for another kiss. He pulls away again after a few minutes. “Please, Buck. Tell me you want this just as much as I do?”

Bucky smirks as he grabs Steve’s hand and places it on his clothed erection. “Does that feel like I want it, Steve?”

Steve moans and pulls Bucky back in for a kiss. He removes his hand from Bucky’s bulge and starts attempting to tug his shorts down. Bucky smirks and helps Steve out, successfully pushing his shorts down enough to free his cock. Steve then reaches for the hem of Bucky’s shirt and lifts it over his head.

Steve can’t help but marvel at him for a second. He’s never been intimate with a guy before but dammit if Bucky wasn’t beautiful. More so than the women he’s been with. And his cock? Steve couldn’t wait to get his hands on the girthy length of him.

This time it’s Bucky’s turn to ask. “You like what you see?”

Steve smirks and reaches out to grab a hold of the beautiful cock. “Oh, yeah. You get this hard just for me?”

Bucky rests his forehead on Steve’s shoulder and lets out a moan. “Only get this hard for you, Stevie.”

Steve adjusts his grip just a little tighter and starts slowly jerking Bucky off. Bucky can’t help but bite down on Steve’s shoulder to stifle his moaning. Steve isn’t having that. “Don’t hide from me. I want to hear how good I’m making you feel. Come on handsome, let me hear you”

Bucky raises his head off of Steve’s shoulder. He grabs the back of Steve’s head with his metal hand and pulls him back in for a kiss. Steve starts pumping Bucky’s cock even faster. Bucky doesn’t want Steve to have all the fun. He starts pulling at Steve’s shorts, signaling he wants them off.

Steve removes himself from Bucky for a moment to stand up and remove his shorts. Bucky can’t help the whine that escapes him as he watches Steve’s cock smack against his abdomen. Long, thick, and just absolutely perfect. A cocky smirk appears on Steve’s face. He’s glad Bucky is impressed.

He climbs back on the bed and resumes kissing Bucky and once again grabbing his cock. This time Bucky reciprocates and grabs Steve’s cock, earning him a loud moan. “Fuck, Bucky. Just like that.”

Bucky pumps his fist at a rapid pace. He’s been close to coming ever since Steve bench pressed him. He wants to get Steve there. “Bucky if you don’t slow down, I’m going to bust a nut like some teenager.”

Bucky smirks and grabs the back of Steve’s head with his metal hand and leans in to whisper, “I want you to come for me. All over me. Make a mess, Stevie.”

Steve groans and starts moving his fist to match Bucky’s pace, now wanting them to come at the same time. Bucky moans and loses himself in the feeling of Steve’s hand wrapped around him. He comes with a shout and makes a big mess on Steve’s abdomen.

The feel of Bucky’s cum hitting his body is what does Steve in. He makes an equally big mess all over Bucky’s abdomen and chest. Steve removes his hand from Bucky’s softening cock and places it on Bucky’s hip to pull him in even closer. Steve gives Bucky a big, dopey smile. “That’s the fastest anyone has ever made me come. You must have the magic touch.”

Bucky moves his hand to Steve’s ass and gives a squeeze. “Sorry about that. Got a little carried away. I couldn’t really help myself. I’ve never felt like this before.”

Steve cups Bucky’s cheek and makes him look him in the eye. “Neither have I. This is new for both of us. I’m glad it’s with you, though.”

Bucky smiles at Steve. “Yeah? You okay going from best friends to”...he gestures down their naked bodies... “whatever this is?”

Steve pulls Bucky in for a kiss. He pulls back and touches his forehead to Bucky’s. “Well I want more than sex but I’ll take what I can get. If sex is all you want, then I’ll take it.”

Bucky chuckles at him. “Well sounds like we want the same things, punk. And don’t worry, we can keep it just between us if you’d like.”

Steve furrows his brows in confusion. “Why would I want to keep this just between us? Are you...are you ashamed of us?”

Bucky quickly shakes his head. “No! Of course not! I just assumed you wouldn’t want people to know since you’ve always been with women and you’re Captain America.”

Steve cups Bucky’s cheek again. “The thought of being with you makes me happy. And I want to show you off and how happy you make me. If my friends can’t get over that then fuck ‘em. They aren’t my real friends. As for my fans? The real ones will support me.”

Bucky can’t help the tear that falls from his eye. Steve wipes it away with his thumb. “You make me happy, too. Please know that. I’ve wanted this for longer than I’m willing to admit. I’m...I think I’m in love with you, Steve.

Steve smiles and goes to pull Bucky in for another kiss. Just before their lips touch he utters out, “I love you too, jerk.”

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss

#chris evans #captain america #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #smut #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve x bucky #ask answered #thanks for the ask!#steve rogers request #request

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mulderist · 4 years ago

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Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 9

Hegal Place

Alexandria, VA

My footfalls echoed down the hallway as I approached the front door. With a firm push it swung open and I descended the short brick staircase to the sidewalk. I surveyed the familiar rowhomes across the street; small front yards bordered by thin wrought iron fences. A small child was being led by the hand down the steps of one brownstone. I waited for the kid and her mother to walk up the block then I chose the opposite direction. An older model Packard chugged down the otherwise quiet street, coughing an exhaust smoke signal as it passed. That driver should probably see his mechanic sooner rather than later.

As I walked I felt my holster sticking into my right ribs, suppose that’s what I get for hastily slipping it on. It was enough of an annoyance to force me to focus on the task at hand; finding Alex Krycek. The steady afternoon breeze brought in clouds but not enough to predict rain. I still had a few hours before sunset and wished for a drier evening than my previous outing. I sighed and hoped Scully found herself a cab.

A dog bark caught my attention and I saw an excited yellow Labrador happily wagging a tail at an average looking man. As I moved to get a better view I saw the dog connected to a leash being held by a young woman. The average man gave the dog a gentle pat on the head and must have felt my stare because he straightened up and let the woman and her furry companion pass by. I knew it was him by the way he watched the woman walk away. Krycek slipped his hands into his pockets and stood firm on the spot. I ran through a dozen different scenarios of how I would approach him; close-quarters-combat, a strong right hook, or a simple shot to the leg. I honestly didn’t want to draw too much attention. The challenge was having a conversation without sounding like two territorial alleycats. Right as I finished my thought, Krycek took off around the corner.

I swore to myself and tightly gripped the butt of my gun as I followed in pursuit. A footrace was certainly not where I wanted this to go. My lungs burned while my feet pounded against the sidewalk, a stern reminder that I needed to resume my visits to the campus track. There was a flash of a jacket down what I assumed was an alleyway. I slowed my pace and found a proper hold on my gun. I pressed against the brick wall, careful to hide my position until the right moment. Like so many times before I took a deep inhale and with the exhale I glanced around the corner. I ducked back to avoid Krycek’s fist, then I charged forward pushing him farther into the alley. He stumbled and tried a quick jab to my stomach. I tightened up right as he made contact and in return I let my gun give him a kiss on the cheek. Krycek doubled over and spat on the ground. With both hands I grabbed him by the shirt I tossed him against the wall, the tip of my Browning wedged into his abdomen.

“You know as well as I do that a bullet to the gut is a slow way to go,” I said with my left arm braced across his chest, “So you better talk.”

“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” Krycek grumbled with a crimson smile. I quickly frisked him, found his Walther and relieved him of it. I pressed my weapon back into his stomach then said,

“A little birdie told me you were at Washington General earlier today.”

“Is that so?” he mumbled.

“Cut the shit, Krycek,” I responded, applying more pressure to his chest, inching my forearm closer to his throat. He choked out a laugh,

“The redhead! Ah Mulder you sure can pick ‘em.”

“Leave her out of this!” My gun pressed harder into the soft surface of his abdomen. I saw him wince and I twisted my hand hoping I found a nerve,

“Damnit,” he hissed, “I only gave her some friendly advice.”

“Stay away from her,” I growled. He shook his head disapprovingly with a limited range of movement.

“Oh now I get it. You’re sweet on her, aren’t you --ah! -- jesus!” His assumption was cut short thanks in part to my weapon stabbing him in between the ribs. I cocked my gun and felt my jaw clench as he struggled.

“Red got herself involved when she worked on that autopsy,” Krycek sputtered.

I eased up a bit, put the hammer back down but still held my aim.

“What do you mean? Who was the stiff?” I asked, uncertain if I was going to get a truthful answer. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“A nobody by all accounts.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” I shrugged and felt like this was starting to become a waste of my time.

“The body wasn’t disposed of properly. He never should have ended up at the hospital morgue.”

Finally, some clarity. It’s as though the sea of confusion was at low tide, revealing an answer like shells on the shore. I witnessed it myself that night at the Navy Yard. They thought the cabbie would just float downriver and disappear. Now they wanted to cover their tracks as soon as that body washed up near the marina. Scully was just doing her job in the wrong place at the wrong time. Scully. I had to get back to the precinct.

“Are we done, Mulder?” Krycek asked, breaking my concentration. My attention snapped back as he was fixing his shirt.

“Not quite,” I said as I tentatively put my gun back in the holster, “I want to know one other thing; tell me your connection to Spender.”

“Spender?” Krycek’s voice was now hampered with a slur, “God, I am so tired of hearing that name.”

“Talk.”

“It’s like I told you before,” he gestured, “Spender was a hophead. Got a taste of the stuff when he was investigating Vincenti. Do you remember that tip I sold you about four months ago? Turns out your partner wanted to have a private meeting with Vincenti’s second in command. Detective Spender dealt himself right into the drug game on the government’s dime.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because,” Krycek coughed out, “Carlo Lodi told me.”

My mind worked like playing cards being shuffled, each revelation waterfalled onto another until the deck was stacked.

“You told Lodi to put the hit on Spender,” I said pointedly.

“I’m a snitch,” he stated a little too simply for my taste. “Frankly I had had enough of being the information errand boy, so I sold him out. Your partner thought he could muscle in on Vincenti’s pushers and try to expand the trade routes, so to speak. The elder Spender got wise and to keep things kosher with Vincenti and his boys, he ordered a hit.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say Spender’s father?”

“Who do you think helps keep the peace?” he replied rhetorically. I thought for a moment and chided myself for not seeing far enough up the ladder.

“Whose side are you on, Krycek?”

“My own,” he curtly answered, “I don’t care if the mob kills the whole lot of you.”

“As long as you get box seats to the show,” I said. He chuckled and spit a trail of red once again onto the pavement. There wasn’t much more I could add. No more interrogation to give. I returned his Walther and left the alley.

------

After a less than ideal cab ride, I arrived at the precinct and bypassed the front desk, heading straight for the stairwell. As I descended the steps I tried to think of how I would untangle this web I found myself in. I never fully trusted Krycek, apparently Spender did. The new information was swirling in my head and I needed to pin down the facts before I approached Skinner. But first I needed to talk to Frohike and the boys.

The door to their department was ajar, sending a quick surge of adrenaline to my chest. I pushed the door open further and entered the lab, relieved when I saw Langley flipping through a thick-bound book.

“You guys should really put a lock on that door,” I began, “never know what’ll wander in here.”

He chuckled and quipped that instead I should have a bell around my neck so they’d know when I was coming. I asked if Scully had arrived and he directed me around the corner where I practically bowled over Frohike, who clutched a blanket to his chest. I raised an eyebrow.

“I uh -- this was for our guest,” Frohike said softly. I reached over and he relinquished it, then I gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. Scully was curled into the threadbare sofa, she looked exhausted. It surprised me to see an actual piece of furniture in the lab, though I’m sure they needed something other than an army cot for those overnight cases. I unfolded the blanket and gently laid it over her sleeping frame. The sudden weight caused Scully to stir, eyelashes fluttered against the makeshift pillow of her hand. I crouched down and heard a hum escape her lips.

“Glad you made it,” she said with eyes still closed.

“True to my word,” I replied. She turned her head away from her hand and slowly blinked open her eyes.

“Did you find him?”

“I did. We had a friendly chat and a smoke.”

“What actually happened?” she asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“He took a swing at me and I shoved him into an alley; he won’t bother you again. As it turns out, my former informant has his finger in just about every dish on the crime buffet.” I tried to adjust the blanket which had slipped down her shoulder but her arm snaked out, fingers pressed tenderly against my forearm.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Rest for a little bit. I’ll be back,” I left her with a kiss on the forehead then went to round up the boys.

Langley passed by and I gestured for him and Frohike to join me, moving towards the exam tables on the opposite side of the lab. Byers suddenly emerged from the front door with a binder in hand and I waved him over as he muttered something about a body coming in for autopsy.

“Mulder you look like something’s on your mind,” Frohike said.

“Krycek was the one who confronted Scully at the hospital,” I relayed, “After twisting some truth out of him, he told me the body she did an autopsy on should never have been found. He can’t be trusted.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Langley, scratching at a blonde temple.

“I need to give a report to Skinner, he needs to know it was Krycek that put the hit out on Spender.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph it was all true,” Byers exclaimed as he folded his arms.

“We still need to find out who killed Lodi and his henchman,” I said, running a hand over my neck, “It had to come from whoever is at the top of the food chain.”

“Do you think Krycek could actually be pulling the strings? I mean he’s basically been lying to you from the start,” Frohike countered, pushing the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. I nearly laughed aloud but thought long and hard at the potential of Krycek being a crime boss. It would be a hell of a curve ball to try and take a swing at. Langley, Byers, and Frohike exchanged looks as I continued to ponder the question.

“No,” I said, “but I appreciate the creativity. He isn’t loyal to either the DCPD or Vincenti’s mafia family. The profile I’ve developed is that he’s a man who would just like to sit back and watch the city burn.”

The shrill sound of a telephone ring interrupted our conversation. It continued until Frohike broke away to answer it. I heard him agree with the party on the other line, then he shot a glance in my direction. He nodded then quickly hung up.

“The Captain must have a sixth sense or have a bug somewhere down here,” Frohike said as he walked back over.

“I certainly hope we’re not bugged,” Byers responded with a quick look up at the ceiling.

“He wants me upstairs?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Double time,” quipped Frohike. I rolled my shoulders and as I turned to leave I heard a new voice say,

“Leaving so soon.”

The boys seemed to scatter, save for Frohike who was glued to the spot when Scully stepped into the main area of the lab. Her stark white nurse uniform fit a little too perfectly amongst the shelves of science and macabre medical arts. She approached me and Frohike got the hint, trying to busy himself with tidying up the counter behind him.

“The boss is requesting my presence,” I told her, “And I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to him as well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, a look of concern in her eyes, “I could give a statement about what happened.”

“Sorry Scully, this invite is for a party of one.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Planned on it, unless they burn me at the stake.”

“So dramatic,” she shook her head and reached for my hand with slender fingers. With a quick squeeze she added, “As much as you hate to hear this, I’m involved now. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. Let me help where I can.”

I saw Byers timidly approach out of the corner of my eye.

“Excuse me Miss Scully,” he said with a kind wave, “there is a body due to arrive for an autopsy if you’d like to observe.”

“I’m sure we could use her assistance,” Frohike piped up, “that is, if she wouldn’t mind.”

I tried to think of a jab but she silenced me. She gave a pleasant smile in their direction then leaned a little closer, the faint scent of her perfume hit my senses.

“Go. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

I got caught in her blue eyes, only able to manage a simple nod of agreement. My hand slipped from hers and I left the quiet of the forensic lab, bracing myself for the roar of the bullpen and Captain Skinner.

#i wrote this #historical au #xf fanfic #mulder pov #my fic #noir fiction #hey look an update #xfiles

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spacestationdaedalus · 4 years ago

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Happy late Christmas to @malevon!! I might not be able to throw you a party but at least I can give you a fic to read to celebrate the last day at your job. This is the longest single piece I’ve written in a long time and my first time writing injury/whump, so I hope it’s comprehensible, at least. It was SO much fun to write, thank you for the lovely prompt <3

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435182

...

She's coming apart, now.

I’m not scared of you.

Helen...was that...a lie?

Once he heard it, Saw it, Jon knew it was over. Her doors and hallways bend and creak under the weight of the Watcher’s gaze, and she herself is twisting. She’s always twisting of course, but this is different. It’s uniform, too comprehensible for the incarnation of lies and deceit. She’s screaming, crying out-

- it’s me, it’s Helen -

Channeling the power of the Eye comes a bit easier each time, which Jon registers in the back of his mind as vaguely concerning. The corridors are crumbling, colors blending into each other as Distortion and Spiral become indistinguishable. Jon staggers as the walls and floor shift, disorienting still even with the Eye staring down at them. It reaches out, then, a last-ditch effort to save itself. Stretching and warping with hands, sharp fingers that don’t belong to Helen or Michael or anyone with a name. Jon doesn’t stop talking.

He registers a pain, vague and far-off. Everything warps into red and a million colors all at once, and then he's nowhere.

Dry grass crunches under his feet, and icy wind cuts through him. He can’t actually hear it over the ringing in his ears, but he can definitely feel it, bracing and whipping the dark strands that had come free from their bun. There’s a ringing in his ears; it travels into his jaw, rattles his teeth. There's a coppery taste in his mouth and warmth trickling down his face. Another nosebleed. Great.

"Christ, Jon!"

Martin's voice comes from behind, and Jon sags with the relief of it.

"Oh, Martin! Good." Jon turns to greet him. His words sound strange to his own ears. Slippery and lopsided and wrong. The ringing in his ears is replaced with the dull roar of rushing blood. Accented by a rhythmic thud - his heartbeat, surely. Was it always so loud? He can feel it behind his eyes, and with every beat it hurts just a bit more.

"Wh-what happened? There was the hotel and then..." Martin's voice trails off, eyes widening.

Jon laughs, bringing a hand up to wipe his face. His fingers are cold. Which is strange because the rest of him is light and warm. He shivers. "Oh calm down Martin, it's just a nosebleed." He can taste the copper, still.

Martin rushes toward him. He's saying words that Jon desperately wants to hear, but he can't. Not over the roaring in his ears, or the blur of color and static. He can feel Martin's hands on his arms, his shoulders. Jon reaches up, tries to grasp one of his hands. Has his arm always been this heavy? He feels a pulling, sudden and deep - his abdomen. And it hurt.

He blinks. He's on the ground, half kneeling. Martin's arms are around him.

"-my god, what happened? Oh god Jon-"

His head is heavy, eyes tired. He looks down. And there's blood. His blood?

Oh.

He opens his mouth to tell Martin that it's alright, it's ok, it's not as bad as it looks. He makes a sound, he thinks. He hopes, desperately, that Martin understands.

A wave of dizziness overtakes him, followed closely by darkness.

Without himself to talk to, the dismal weather is a bit distracting.

Martin braces himself against the wind and the light pattering of rain. There’s hardly a way to tell if he’s walking in the right direction, or if there even is a right direction to begin with. He’d simply picked the way that felt right and began the trek, hoping he’d meet Jon along the way. Which isn’t an outstanding plan, sure, but Martin has a hunch that wherever the fog of the Lonely ends is where he’ll find Jon. Or, where Jon will find him - not that there’s much of a difference. Regardless, Martin hopes it’s sooner rather than later. His other self had slipped away into the fog long before, with all the fanfare of a breath dissipating into cold air. At the very least he’s walking with the wind instead of against it, though it doesn’t stop the minuscule droplets from painting his glasses. He’s already given up on cleaning them, resigning himself to the rivulets that form and drip down the smooth surface.

When the rain lets up and the fog clears just enough to catch a building crest over the horizon, the relief marginally outweighs the apprehension. The sight of something other than gray mist and dead grass is promising that he’s reaching the boundary of his domain.

Hidden horrors beyond comprehension aside, at least he can get a break from the damn wind.

It’s a hotel, Martin realizes, one of the old kinds you see in travel magazines and history shows. It’s weather-worn and outdated in a way that might have seemed charming at one point, but now practically oozes terror. The wind dies down as he approaches, for which Martin is grateful.

And in a matter of moments, it’s gone.

Although "matter of moments" might be pushing it. One second it was there, and then Martin blinked, and then it wasn’t.

And Jon is there.

"Christ, Jon!" Martin says, half startled-fear and half relief. The wind picks up again in the hotel’s absence, but it seems more tolerable, now.

"Oh, Martin! Good." Jon turns, a dazed look on his face to match his tone. There's a thin trail of blood dripping from his nose. Overusing his powers again, Martin realizes with a bolt of apprehension.

"Wh-what happened? There was the hotel and then..." Martin looks to the space the hotel once occupied, and back to Jon, who’s facing him now. His voice trails off as slow sinking horror creeps in its wake.

Jon's shirt is ripped open, tatters fluttering like wind chimes in the frigid breeze. Four gashes, deep and red, run diagonally across his torso, from mid-rib cage to just above the waist. Blood is coating his stomach, his clothes-

Oh, god

Jon's wiping the blood from his face and laughing - why is he laughing? - as Martin closes the gap, heart lodged and hammering in his throat. He grabs Jon with shaking hands, holding him, steadying him when he sways back. Martin’s vaguely aware that he’s speaking, words and half-formed questions rattled off rapid-fire.

What happened where were you when how oh god fuck fuck-

Jon's knees buckle. Martin brings him into his arms, supports his weight as he lowers them to the ground. Jon is dead weight at this point, head falling to rest on Martin's shoulder. He brings a shaking hand to Jon's hair, then his neck. He can feel his pulse against his palm, light and fast and as frantic as the beating of Martin's own heart.

He lays his down, gently, as gently as he can with how bad his hands are shaking. He rips the backpack open and grabs the first piece of cloth he sees. It's an old t-shirt, one of the few Martin brought with him from the safehouse. A faded band logo adorns the front. Jon had been pleasantly surprised to find Martin wearing it, since he was a fan of the same group. They’d laughed and sang their favorite songs together-

“I can’t believe I didn’t know you could sing!”

“I can’t really sing, Martin, it’s a functional skill more than anything-”

“Bullshit! You’re good! Like, actually good.”

“Is now a good time to mention I used to be in a band?”

“What?!”

Martin crumples the old shirt and presses it to Jon’s bleeding stomach.

That pulls a low moan from him, eyes closed and face screwed up against the pain.

"Sorry, sorry, I know," Martin placates, high and strung thin. Out of the grab-bag of work experiences Martin had gathered over the years, anything tangentially related to health care was nowhere to be found. Everything he knew came from corny 90’s job safety trainings and overly-dramatic television shows.

He wants desperately to check the wounds - how deep are they? Will Jon be able to heal them before he, he bleeds out or something?! - but his arms are locked at the elbows, fists clenched in the white fabric ever-so-slowly seeping with red. He fears that if he were to move even a millimeter, everything would slip between his fingers.

A touch, feather-light on his arm, feels like a shock. It’s Jon’s hand

"I-it's fine, it's ok-" Jon's voice is soft and ragged.

"It's-it’s really not, actually," Martin replies, and it might have come across as playful if it didn’t crack so deeply through the middle. He sacrifices a hand to grasp Jon's. It's ice cold and small and thin.

Martin uses his other hand to gingerly lift the shirt. The bleeding is slowing now - thank god - and Martin is sure the edges have closed ever so slightly. Not that he had gotten the best look before. He remembers how quickly Jon’s leg healed after Daisy-

It wasn’t a miracle though, his mind supplies.

He throws the bloody shirt aside and digs through the backpack once more, Gauze, some tape, a knife, a bottle of water. There’s only a half-roll of the gauze left, and it’ll have to be enough. With a jittering determination Martin uses the water to clean away some of the blood, cutting away the remains of Jon’s shirt as he goes. As the red washes away, the wounds don’t look quite as deep, quite as awful as they did before. He feels the smallest sliver of panic leave him and he draws in a deep breath to calm himself. Martin notices, really notices the wind for the first time in minutes - or hours, how long has it been? It burns the tips of his fingers numb, slicing through him like the knife in his hands. They don’t have anything in the realm of antiseptic, because of course they don’t, and Martin desperately hopes that Jon can heal himself before it becomes a problem. He gently wraps Jon’s middle with fumbling hands, placating as best he can when Jon winces against the movement.

They aren't in the Martin's domain anymore, technically. Just on the edge between Lonely and god-knows-what. But the open, gently rolling hills and vestiges of fog sends his spine tingling. Like a rabbit with no cover, and a hawk circling overhead. Not to mention the wind - now that Martin’s brought attention to it, he can’t stop shivering.

There’s a cobblestone wall, maybe twenty meters away. Left over from the perimeter of the hotel, if Martin had to guess. Wedging themselves into a corner to block out some of the wind is probably their best - only? - option.

Martin leans forward, brings his hands to cradle Jon's face. For as frozen as his fingers are he can still feel the chill against Jon’s skin, which isn’t the most comforting sign. He caresses his thumbs against Jon’s cheekbones in an attempt to coax the barest bit of attention out of him. Jon hums as he opens his eyes, slowly, foggy and unfocused. Whether it’s blood loss or pain or the after-effect of using his powers, Martin isn’t sure. Probably all three.

“There you are,” Martin whispers, and as small as it is he can’t hold back the relieved smile. He presses a soft kiss to Jon’s forehead. “We need to get out of the wind, love. I’m going to pick you up, alright?”

“I can walk.” Jon murmurs, almost lost in the air between them.

Idiot man .

“Not a chance.” Martin kisses his forehead once more, the comfort at the sound of Jon’s voice, ragged as it is, bringing tears to his eyes. He re-positions the backpack and slips his arms under shoulders and knees, rising to his feet with only a slight stagger. Jon cuts off a cry with his teeth, and Martin whispers apologies once more.

The stone wall on both sides makes more difference than Martin had dared to hope. He sets Jon down delicately on the grass, followed by the backpack with a bit less care. As he rummages through it once more - he’d packed that blanket, hadn’t he? - Jon shifts, raising himself on shaking arms.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Martin starts as Jon leans himself against the cobblestone, arm wrapped gently against the new bandages.

“It’s ok, I can manage it,” Jon replies in between deep breaths. He’s shaking, Martin can tell, pale and drawn. Martin grabs the blanket from the bottom of the pack at last, crawling to kneel next to Jon.

“Alright, alright, just stay there now, will you?” Martin chides as he leans against the stone, dragging the blanket over them. He was starting to think they’d never need it, but with the cold air still biting against them he was more than grateful they’d kept it around. “It’s not like we can give you, y’know, stitches or anything, so try not to move around so much while it’s healing.”

Jon leans his head - and most of his weight - against Martin’s shoulder with a hum, eyes sliding shut. They sit in a not-uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Martin takes a breath to ask-

“I killed Helen.” Jon speaks, soft and half-muffled by the sleeve of Martin’s jacket.

“...oh.” Martin says, quietly, because what else is there to say? Then, louder: “Wait, did- did she do this to you?!”

“Not her fault.” Jon takes a breath, slowly. Martin thinks he’s about to fall asleep. Or pass out, but he certainly hopes it’s the former. “It was self-defense.”

Oh.

Martin’s not exactly sure what to do with that, and by the time he figures it out he’s sure Jon won’t be conscious anymore. Jon’s breathing evens out into something resembling sleep - or rest, at least, since he can’t really sleep anymore - and Martin resigns himself to his thoughts and his still-slowing heartbeat. The feeling of Jon’s breaths against him are enough to dispel the last dregs of his panic, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

Jon couldn’t have been asleep, because he didn’t dream.

The sensation is similar though; the lost time, the panic, the awareness that comes back to him with all the subtlety of a freight train. The headache isn’t exactly new, but the deep ache that sinks its teeth into his bones is an interesting touch.

He’s against Martin, still - Martin it’s Martin he’s safe you’re both safe - who’s breathing is slow and deep. He’s not dreaming, though. The last dream he had, at the safehouse, was about his mother-

Jon sits up, sudden, fast. He didn’t know that. Not before. But now he Knows.

Knowledge; a familiarity, awareness, or understanding of something-

Stopstopstop

The knowing pushes against him, against the back of his eyes that throb in time to his heartbeat. It’s hard and fast and it hurts -

Fever causes and increase in heart rate, breathing rate, and blood circulation to the skin-

Temperature is considered elevated when it is higher than 38 degrees Celsius, or 100.4 degrees Fahrenheit-

(32°F − 32) × 5/9 = 0°C

He brings his hands up, foolish to think he can force the onslaught back with the heels of his palms against his eyes. His hands are frigid and damp against his face, or is it his face that’s burning against his hands? The movement of his arms tugs against his chest, his stomach, and folding in on himself only makes it hurt more but he can’t stop-

You think you could be saved without paying the price?

T̶h̵i̷s̴ ̵i̷s̷ ̷h̸e̶l̴p̵i̴n̸g̶ ̶y̸o̵u̴.̴

Ỳ̶̧̮͎͔̇̑o̷͚̖̬͈̙̽̅̆̕u̷̢̙͍͙̅̽̌̂́ ̸̯̈̓͠ͅs̵̙͇̗͠͝ȟ̸̩̝̗͚͓̈́͒̈͑o̸̢͉͎̯͒u̸̬̩̯͇̿̿̍͛͝l̶͇̗̮̦͒̾d̴̠̪̰͉̉̃̈́ ̵͍̙̺͖̮̒̊b̵̡̯͕͕̘̑e̶̫̹̒͊ ̴̬͑̓g̸̟̝̻͕̣͊͠ ̶̞̰̯͍̟͌̑̌ṛ̶͍̹̀ ̴̲̭̚͜ã̸͎̼̥̜̦͆͝ ̵̝̺̈̿t̴̢̛͗͝ ̶̺̝̂͛e̴̙͆̆̉̚ ̶̜̦̮͓̱̓̒f̶̢̗͓̥͗ ̷͓̾͜ụ̵̭͋͛ ̵̝̪̃̋͗͘l̶̨̥͈̼̝͂͘͝

He tastes copper again. Copper and static and paper and magnetic tape pooling on his tongue. He clenches his teeth against the need to vomit every bit and piece of knowledge and horror he’s ever known. The door in his mind is cracking now, buckling and splintering with the pressure and the weight of it all.

It was a small, unremarkable door, painted dark yellow, with a matte-black handle.

Something touches his shoulder and he would scream if he could open his mouth. The same something - hands hands two hands - touches his face, his hair-

And he had long, straw-coloured hair that fell onto his shoulders in loose ringlets-

“Jon,” someone says, and it’s Martin because of course it’s Martin. He’s kneeling in front of him, blessedly cold hands cradling his face. One hand brushes his hair back - had it come undone again? - resting against his forehead. It’s so soft and cool and comforting Jon can barely hold back the sob against his throat.

I felt the cold night air on my face and, and wet tarmac under my hands and knees.

“Good lord, you’re burning up!” He sounds frantic and Jon wants to comfort him, but he doesn’t know how. Martin starts on about medicine and things they don’t have and things that Jon knows, Knows can’t help him. He Knows it’ll pass and he Knows it won’t kill him, but in the moment that doesn’t feel like the mercy it should.

Jon shakes his head against Martin’s hands and tries, really tries to tell him it’s ok -

I decided to come to you and tell you my story.

“ I- ” The one syllable is jagged and dripping with compulsion and tellmeyourstory . Jon clamps down on it with a whine, shaking his head again. He brings a shaking hand to touch Martin’s on his cheek. He meets his eyes for the first time, wide and searching. Jon realizes he must look as wretched as he feels for Martin to have that look on his face.

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry

“Oh, Jon.” Martin must understand, at least some of it, because his face softens. He pulls Jon to his chest - Jon would put his arms around him if they weren’t so heavy-

-held up my arm for a handshake, but he just looked at it, and laughed-

-but he settles for burying his face in the crook of Martin’s neck, eyes shut.

...felt like I couldn’t trust my eyes.

Her statement echoes in his ears and on his tongue. He remembers her face, her real face, before Helen twisted it into endless, sickening spirals. The bounce to her hair, the odd way she held her pen, the bags under her eyes that mirrored his own. He wasn’t mourning her. He certainly wasn’t morning Helen . She didn’t deserve that. He wasn’t mourning the woman he’d never known, a woman he probably wouldn’t have liked anyway , a woman that he let walk through that fucking door -

There has never been a door there, Archivist.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until his next breath catches in the middle. It’s silent because he makes it silent, because the second he opens his mouth the words will come spilling out and they’ll never stop. So his shoulders shake and his chest heaves from the force of it, and it hurts . His tears drip down the collar of Martin’s shirt, and Martin - god Martin - has one hand on his back and another in his hair, making soft circles with the pads of his fingers. He’s talking to him, and Jon can’t hear the words over the static and statement pulsing through his eardrums. But the vibration of his voice is gentle, comforting, and it makes breathing just a bit easier. His face is hot and he shivers against the chill creeping up his frame, but Martin is here and warm and safe and Jon hopes that he never has to leave.

“Here,” Martin says - and Jon hears - after who knows how long, shifting slightly but never taking his arms away. He repositions himself, back against the wall, and lowers Jon by the shoulders until his head is pillowed on his lap. The motion hurts, Jon knows, but it’s muted and far away against the burning of his skin and how cold he is in spite of it.

Later they’ll talk, when he’s better, about Helen and friendship and other things. Jon will say I’m sorry for worrying you and Martin will say it’s ok and they’ll both say I love you . But for now, Jon drifts off to Martin’s hand resting on his head, his whispered reassurances reminding him that he’s safe.

“Rest, love.” Martin presses a kiss to his forehead and brings the blanket over him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jon can’t stop himself from Knowing that, not now, but he doesn’t need the Eye to know that it’s true.

#my writing #tma fics #jonmartin #i wrote a lot more than i expected to for this!! i really hope it like #makes sense hahaha #tma

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zutaraangtastic · 4 years ago

Note

imagine your polyship adopting a cat together and everyone fawns over the cat like they’re everyone’s child (bonus if the cat is Zuko's and named Your Honor.)

Coming back to these prompts after a little break (reminder that we are not accepting new prompts; we received these before July 1). Accidentally gave this cat fic a little plot, hope you enjoy! - Mod J

While waiting for the rest of his family and a picnic lunch to arrive in the garden, Zuko notices Izumi crouched in the dirt. Normally, she’d be sitting on the bench, reading in the shade—unlike Kya, who’s laughing wildly and kicking around in the fountain, thriving in the hot Fire Nation sun.

Zuko humors her, lets her splash him and treats her to some slow and easy firebending counter-moves that make her wobbly water whips sizzle into steam. It was refreshing and cooled him off at first, but it has gotten a little tedious to keep drying his robes every five minutes. He’s not dressed for play, just stealing an hour away from the day’s endless succession of formal meetings to spend some time with his lovers and their visiting children.

(His children, in some way—they’ll have to get all that out in the air sooner rather than later, before the oldest two figure it out on their own. His daughter is too smart for her own good, and Bumi is more observant than Katara or Aang realize.)

Izumi still hasn’t moved, so Zuko tells Kya to keep practicing, maintaining a watchful eye on her as he goes to find out what has Izumi’s attention.

He hears it before he sees it: a small, rumbling growl coming from a dark gap beneath the wooden walkway and the ground. Izumi stretches out a tentative hand, but on instinct Zuko pulls her back just as a set of teeth snap near her fingertips. She yelps in surprise, and his heart jumps into his throat with panic that she might be hurt. Her hands are shaky, but otherwise unscathed. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief.

Kya arrives at the site of the commotion, wielding a tenuous rope of water. She lashes it towards the gap and misses, splattering the walkway instead. Izumi jumps to her feet and wards Kya off before she can try again.

“No, don’t hurt it! Avatar Aang says to respect all life!”

“I know that, he’s my dad!”

Zuko spots Katara making her way across the garden to them, a welcome sight amid the chaos. While she sorts out the girls’ argument, he lowers his face close to the ground so he can peer into the hole, holding a small flame for light. A ferret-cat is coiled at the deepest end, its feline eyes gleaming at him before it turns its head away and resumes digging, presumably trying to tunnel its way out. It’s hard to tell, but it looks injured, half of its ear torn, its fur dark and wet in places.

It must have wandered into the garden after a fight. There haven’t been any ferret-cat families here in a long time—after how Azula terrorized them, Zuko wasn’t surprised when they disappeared. It’s hard to believe that that childhood, good and bad, is almost 30 years gone.

He’s spent much of his time as Fire Lord working to restore relationships between the nations. Restoring one with the local fauna shouldn’t be too great a task.

After she finishes explaining the animal crisis to Kya and Katara, Izumi turns to Zuko with imploring eyes. “Can we help it?”

Zuko smiles and squeezes her hands gently in his. “Of course,” he says, and looks to Katara. “Do you know where Aang is? Earthbending might be most useful here.”

Katara nods. “I was thinking the same thing. He just put Tenzin down for a nap, so he should be on his way.”

Just as she says it, Bumi appears around the corner. He sprints down the colonnade parallel to the garden, with his father chasing behind by air scooter. Judging by his casual poise, Aang isn’t really trying to win their race, unlike Bumi, who arrives sweaty and panting. He nearly trips over Kya, earning him a sharp look from Katara, which goes ignored as he turns and waits with his arms crossed. Aang leans forward to speed up in the last stretch only when he realizes he’s being watched.

Dissipating the air and landing lightly on his feet, he ruffles Bumi’s hair and says, “Looks like you’re just too fast for your old man!”

“Dad.” Bumi pulls a face and ducks out of Aang’s grasp. “I told you not to let me win!”

“If you didn’t think you were too old for air scooter rides now, both of us could’ve won.” Aang grins, arms akimbo, and flashes a quick wink at Zuko. “Problem-solving is my middle name, just ask your Uncle Fire Lord. At least he listens to me, most of the time.”

“We’ve got one for you, O Wise One,” Katara says, at the same time as Izumi glues herself to Aang’s pants leg and tugs him to see the ferret-cat, explaining how she found it.

Zuko moves out of the way, gesturing for Bumi to wait his turn. The boy still sulks, but less so when Zuko gets him to talk about his practice training with the palace guards. Getting all fired up about it again, he reenacts some of the kicks and stances he’s learned, and puffs his chest out when Zuko nods approvingly. He barely seems to notice Katara tailing him, attempting to smooth down his hair. Zuko catches her twinkling eyes over Bumi’s head. He fights a smile and tries to stay interested in Bumi’s rambling and cartwheeling.

It’s Kya who sends up the cry when the kitchen servants arrive with lunch. Aang waves for them to start without him, nudging Izumi to go join the others. Katara and Zuko shepherd the kids to their chosen picnic spot under the shade of a maple tree, while Aang sets about fashioning an earthen cage.

Bumi and Kya chow down eagerly, while Izumi only picks at her rice. She nods when Katara encourages her to eat, but she’s distracted, watching Aang. He sits in lotus on the walkway, waiting patiently.

“I thought he was going to earthbend it out,” she says, frowning.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to scare it,” Zuko suggests. “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing. If you really want to help, here.” He takes the top off a bowl of steamed meat buns and hands it to Izumi. “Food might coax it out. But you have to eat some of these too, okay? Don’t give them all to the ferret-cat.”

Izumi jumps to her feet, smiling brightly. Then she pauses and looks from the bowl to Zuko. “But Avatar Aang is vegetarian. Will I hurt his feelings?”

Katara exchanges a nearly saccharine look with Zuko, her eyes reflecting the melting of his own heart. “It’s okay, honey,” she says, patting Izumi’s hand. “He won’t mind. Uncle Sokka has practically made him immune to the smell of meat, I promise. And, you can tell him we’ve got vegetable buns for him once he rescues the ferret-cat.”

Izumi nods resolutely and hurries back down the little hill. She lays down a trail of buns leading into the makeshift cage, before sitting next to Aang, painstakingly copying his position. Zuko watches, almost overwhelmed with warmth, as Aang assuages Izumi’s hesitation, gesturing to the food for her to eat.

Across the picnic blanket from him, Katara wipes Kya’s mouth clean and chides Bumi when he burps, before she releases them, warning that they’ll scare the ferret-cat if they play too loudly. They end up in the fountain where Kya was before, within sight but a safe distance away.

Katara scoots closer to Zuko, laying a hand over his, and he leans on the other as he twines their fingers together, low enough to stay hidden.

“Izumi’s really growing up, isn’t she?” she remarks.

Zuko groans. “Don’t say that, she’s only eight. I want her to stay this way forever.”

Katara laughs lightly. “You’ve done well with her,” she says, and she sounds almost wistful.

He wonders if she daydreams as often as he does about a life where they could raise Izumi and the rest together full-time, where they could spend the whole day like this with Aang and their children.

But judging by the sun, edging past its midday zenith, it’s almost time for him to get to his first afternoon meeting. He’s just starting to think he won’t get to see the ferret-cat rescue for himself when a furry white-and-brown head pokes out of the hole. Izumi gasps, and Aang grins at her with a finger to his lips. While the animal busies itself with digging for the meat, he slowly raises the layer of earth it’s on and slides it towards the cage. Zuko and Katara stand to get a better view, and Katara beckons for Bumi and Kya.

The ferret-cat seems to notice the trap at the last second, but Aang earthbends the door into place before it can do anything. Everyone ventures closer once it’s clear that the cage is secure. Katara kneels, drawing water from her satchel and bending it between the gaps in the sides of the box to surround the ferret-cat in a healing blue glow. Izumi speaks soothingly to it while it hisses and squirms.

Smiling, Zuko bends to kiss the top of her head. Then he catches Aang by the shoulder, squeezing gently and resisting the urge to drop a kiss there, too. Aang’s eyes are shining as he looks fondly from the children to Zuko. It’s easy to read the gentle pride in his posture—Zuko knows that for all the world-saving and spirit-negotiating and political crisis-averting Aang’s done, he takes the most satisfaction in the small, everyday kindnesses. He’s always had this soft spot for animals especially.

“I have to go,” Zuko says, “but you know where the physicians’ wing is. I’m sure someone there has some veterinary experience.”

Aang clasps Zuko’s forearm, hand slipping up his sleeve and thumb caressing the way back down to his wrist. “You’ll find us later?”

“Of course.” Zuko reluctantly disentangles his hand and looks over his shoulder to add, “Izumi, be good and listen to Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara, alright?”

He leaves the kids discussing names for their new pet, with Katara jokingly suggesting something to do with honor and Aang interjecting that they might need to wait a while before the ferret-cat is ready to be domesticated. Kya and Izumi get into another argument over it, while Bumi unwisely sticks his fingers in through the gaps.

Zuko pauses one last time at the edge of the garden to look at his family, and knows he’ll spend this meeting daydreaming.

#zutaraang #zutara #kataang #zukaang #izumi #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod j #Anonymous

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atlafan · 5 years ago

Text

Take it Slow - Part Twenty-Four

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

It felt good to get back to work. Getting back into your routine was good for you. A coffee was waiting for you on your desk, and you smiled. You loved that you and Niall kept up the tradition of bringing each other coffee. As you sat at your desk, you emailed your supervisor the video you worked on, on Friday. You got to work on photo-shopping some photos that were sitting in your inbox. After a couple of hours, you had a question about a deadline, so you went down to Niall’s office. He had his eyebrows furrowed at his screen when you knocked.

“Hey!” He said, perking up.

“Morning. I have a quick question about the McGrath project.”

“Sure thing, what’s up?”

“When exactly do they need things by? Seems like they’re looking for a tight turnaround on a lot of work.”

“Think you’ll need the intern’s help on this one?”

“Yeah, if he could work on the audio files for me, just clean them up, it’ll make it easier for me to edit in with the visuals.”

“Alright, I’ll get him on it. I’ll send him a message on Teams to go see you this afternoon when he’s in.”

“Thanks. Did you have a good long weekend?”

“Yeah, although, I’m happy to be back at work.”

“Same here.” You sit down in front of his desk. “Did you like Sarah’s family?”

“They were great, little awkward at first, but not too bad. Did ya happen to bring my dessert?” You giggle.

“Yes, it’s in the breakroom fridge with your name on it, so no one will touch it.”

“Oh thank god, I’ve been dreamin’ of it, thank you.” He looks down, then looks back at you. “So, how was your Thanksgiving?”

“It went way smoother than I thought. My dad was great with Harry, and so was the rest of the family. He’s even going to be taking some pictures of my nephew on in a couple of weeks.”

“Really?” Niall wasn’t sure if you’d tell him about the fight you had with Harry, so he wasn’t going to pry.

“Yeah, my sister-in-law asked him. She said she looked at his Instagram page and loved his work. Oh! And he asked me to go home with him for Christmas. We booked our flights last night, I put in for my vacation time this morning. I’m so excited.”

“Wow, that’s great. Guess we’ll all be on the plane together.”

“I can’t wait to meet his mom and sister.”

“They’re very nice people.”

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“They’ll love you. So, is that all that happened?” You raise an eyebrow at him, then your mouth falls open.

“He told you, didn’t he?” Niall just looks at you and nods. “Jesus Christ, you know, it’s like he’s a kid running off to daddy whenever something goes wrong.”

“I’m his best mate, (y/n), of course he was going to come to me.”

“So what, you just give advice on how to deal with me?” You gasp. “Were the flowers your idea?”

“No, he did that on his own.” He sighs. “He just wanted to show you he was sorry. Don’t worry, though I yelled at him.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I was pissed when he told me what he said to ya. I nearly hit him.”

“You did not.”

“I did! I threatened him for sure. I thought he was going to throw up, he felt terrible.”

“I forgave him.”

“He told me.”

“My Nannie found out about what happened.” You say looking down.

“You told her?!”

“I had no choice! My fucking mom brought it up basically right in front of her.”

“Why’d she do that?”

“I can’t even get into the stupidity that is my mother right now. But I’m glad I told her, she gave me some advice on some other things too.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“I’m seeing them tonight. Harry’s gonna pick me up here, and then we’re driving home to have dinner. I’m hoping to just go out with my Nannie, he said he’d distract my mom.”

“What about your sister?”

“I’m praying she’ll just stay in the basement.”

“So is everything all good with you and Harry now?”

“Yeah, we made up.” You blush. “Well, I better get back to work.”

“Lunch later?”

“You bet!”

Around two in the afternoon, your intern showed up.

“Hey, Matt, how were your classes this morning?” You smiled at him as he set his laptop up at the other side of your desk.

“Good, much rather be here though. How was your morning?”

“Productive. Did Niall tell you what I need from you?”

“Yup.” He takes out his headphones and plugs them into his laptop. “You need me to clean up the audio for that project.”

“Yes, it’s a little too fuzzy. I don’t know what equipment was used to record it, but it sounded terrible. Guess if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.” You scoff.

The two of you work together the rest of the afternoon. He moved to sit next to you so you could compare clips. He was leaned in pretty close to you, but you didn’t think much of it. The time got away from you, you didn’t realize it was ten of five.

Harry decided to come into your office to pick you up. He wanted to say hi to Niall. The two of them were walking down to your office, both of them stopping short when they saw you giggling with Matt. Harry cleared his throat, breaking you from your giggles.

“Harry!” You beamed. You look down at the time. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late. Matt, you’re good to go for the day, sorry to have kept you. Great work today.” You smile at him. His face flushes a bit.

“Um, thanks. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to help with this project some more.”

“Sounds good. I have some meetings in the afternoon, but you can feel free to work in here.”

“Alright, thanks.” He grabs his things and looks at Niall. “Good evening Mr. Horan.”

“Matt.” He nods.

Harry eyes the boy who simply smiles at him nervously.

“Niall, Matt is crazy talented. We were already to combine the clips.”

“That’s great. The sooner this project is done, the better. I hate workin’ with these people.”

“Same, they’re too picky.” You grab your things, and give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

“So, who was that kid?”

“His name is Matt, he’s our media intern.” You say. “He comes in a few times a week.”

“Does he mostly work with you?”

“Yup, and with the people on our social media team.”

“Whatsa matter Harry, ya jealous of a little boy?” Niall teases as you all walk out to the parking lot.

“Shut up, ya twat.” Niall laughs.

“You guys have fun tonight.”

You both get into Harry’s car.

“How was your day, baby?”

“Good, actually. Got caught up on some stuff I needed to get done.”

“That’s good. Hey do you think we could stop at a Walmart or something on the way home tonight? I printed a picture for my desk that I want to get a frame for.”

“Sure, we can do tha’. What picture ya print?”

“Just one of my baby.” You poke his dimple.

“Just one of me, not the two of us?”

“I don’t need to look at a picture of myself all day.”

“Which one was it?”

“The one where you look like a model, from our weekend trip.” He takes your hand and kisses it.

There wasn’t any traffic, surprisingly, so you get home in about forty-five minutes. Harry preoccupies your mom, so you’re able to take your Nannie out for dinner. This was the first time you drove Harry’s car, it felt great. You and Nannie had a wonderful dinner together. You laughed so hard your water came out your nose. She’s not supposed to have dairy, but she did, so when she belched at the table you lost it. It felt like old times with her.

When you got back to your mom’s, Harry was hanging out in the kitchen with your mom and…oh no.

“Glad I could finally meet your boyfriend.” Your oldest sister, Bridget, says to you.

“Oh, yeah, well if you had been at Thanksgiving, you could’ve met him then.” You give her a small side hug.

“I was there, you just got there late.”

“Okay, well, we need to head back before it gets super late.” You give your Nannie another hug and kiss, and say goodbye to your mom.

The car ride was quiet at first. You teared up a bit after saying goodbye again, but you felt better than yesterday.

“So, how was dinner?” he finally asks.

“It was great! I laughed so hard my water came out of my nose.” You giggle.

“Really? Wish I could’ve seen that.”

“Um, how long was Bridget around?”

“Only a few minutes. Your mum made me this big salad, it was delicious.”

“She’s good at whipping up a salad.”

“Bridget is…interesting.”

“That’s one way to describe her. She’s so awkward, isn’t she?”

“A little, yeah. More like socially awkward?”

“Yup, that’s it exactly. Thanks again for doing this tonight. I feel much better.”

You and Harry stop off at Walmart so you can grab your frame, and then go back to your apartment. You both were exhausted by the time you got back that you both went straight to bed. The next morning, you got up and did your thing, leaving him dead asleep. You kiss his forehead before you go.

You set up the picture of him on your desk. It distracts you most of the day, how could one man be so beautiful? You go to your meetings, and Matt is at your desk when you come back.

“Hey Matt.” You smile, sitting down.

“Afternoon. How were your meetings?”

“Tiring.” You sigh. “Sometimes things could easily be solved with a quick email. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

“So that guy yesterday with Mr. Horan”, he points to the picture of Harry on your desk, “was that your boyfriend?”

“Hm? Yeah, his name is Harry.” You look at the photo and smile. “Niall actually set us up a few months ago.”

“No offense, but he’s not the guy I’d picture you with. He looked a little scary.” You laugh.

“Oh god, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He actually cleans up pretty well. He works at a more casual place so he doesn’t have to be dressed up like us.”

“Lotta tattoos.”

“Yup. He’s so great, never thought I’d be with someone so great.” You smile at him. “You don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend?” He laughs nervously.

“Not at the moment, and it would be a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“No, no, I get it. I sort of just date around. Relationships are complicated in college.”

“Oh believe me, I remember. I’m only a couple years older than you.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He smiles. “When did you graduate?”

“2017.” You clear your throat and look back at your computer to keep working.

“Wow, really close in age.” He says looking back at his laptop. “I turn twenty-one soon.”

“Oh!” You say looking at him. “That’s exciting! When?”

“Next month.” He looks at you with a grin. “Any good bars you’d recommend?”

“Well, if you’re hoping to do something fun with your friends, I would just go to Pinz. There’s so much to do there.”

“Oh yeah! I’ve been there before, but they kick you out early if you’re underage.” He laughs. “But I’ll definitely ask my friends if they wanna go. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“You’re welcome.”

The time got away from the two of you again, diligently working on your tedious project, taking small breaks to chat and tell stories from your days in college. Matt was a good kid, it was nice that you were sort of mentoring him. You two were laughing about something when you heard a knock on the opening of your door. It was Harry again, who was holding a small plant. He was also dressed nicely in his khakis and a button up.

“What’s all this?” You ask excitedly, getting up to greet him. Matt watches you walk over to him.

“Thought I’d surprise ya.” He kisses you on the cheek. “You don’t have any plants in your office, thought you could use one. They’re supposed to help brighten your day.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” You hug him. Matt makes a coughing noise. “Sorry, Matt, forgot you were here for a second.” You blush, and look down at your watch. It was just about five. “Save up your work for the day and feel free to head out. I’m definitely done for the day. Great work this afternoon.” You smile at him going back to your desk to power down your computer. Matt can’t help but glance at your butt as you lean over your keyboard. You were wearing your navy dress that no man would be immune to.

“Could you sign this? My advisor wanted to make sure I’m actually showing up for my internship.” He hands you a slip of paper. You read it over then sign.

“Here ya go.” You pack up your things as he closes his laptop. Harry watching him carefully from the doorway. Ready to throttle him if he checks you out again.

“Oi, look what the cat dragged in.” Niall says, passing your office. “Back again?”

“Suprisin’ my girl with a nice dinner.”

“How romantic.” He rolls his eyes. “Come to think of it, I’m actually doin’ the same with Sarah tonight.”

“Aw, the two best boyfriends in the world.” You say putting your jacket on. “Well, goodnight Matt.”

“Night, thanks for another great afternoon.” He smiles. He looks at Niall and Harry who both have their arms crossed. “Um, gentlemen.” Both nod at him, and watch him leave.

“Jesus, (y/n), he’s got it bad for you.” Niall says.

“Stop, he does not.”

“I have to agree with Niall, he was checkin’ ya out, babe.”

“What? When?” You all start walking out of the building, toward the parking lot.

“When you stuck your ass in his face.” Harry says cheekily.

“I did not do that!” You scoff. “He’s a nice boy, and he does great work.”

“It’s true, he’s talented.” Niall starts laughing. “But he definitely has a crush on you. He was in the break room the other day with some of the older ladies, and apparently he went on about how great you are.”

“He did not.”

“He did!”

“Shit, should I talk to him? Hopefully he got the hint today, I practically doted on Harry in front of him.”

“You did?” Harry smiles.

“Yeah, he asked if you were my boyfriend, and I said yes and told him how great you were.” You start laughing. “I also think he’s a bit scared of you.”

“Good.” Niall and Harry say in unison. You swat an arm at the both of them.

Harry had taken an uber to your office so you could take your car. He didn’t let you drive though.

“So where exactly are you taking me?”

“Just to a simple restaurant.”

“Okay, but tomorrow we’re cooking.”

“Already got groceries for that. Went shoppin’ at lunch today.” You lean across to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“My sweetie.” You coo.

Harry took you to a nice little vegetarian restaurant. You both had a quick veggie burger. You let him pay since it was all part of a surprise evening.

You kicked your shoes off when you got inside, and hung up your coat. You plop down on the couch, and turn the TV on. Harry sits next to you and mindlessly takes your hand in his.

“You good with The Office?”

“You bet.” He smiles at you. You both put your feet up on the coffee table.

“So, what made you wanna surprise me tonight?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “Thought about ya all day. I really need to get my ass outta bed in the morin’ to give ya a proper goodbye.”

“Oh, but you’re so cute when you’re sleepy. I love giving you a little kiss goodbye.” You lean next to him. He puts his arm around your shoulders, and you lean in further. You put a hand on his thigh.

You loved moments like this, these simply domestic times where you just enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice having someone to binge watch TV with. You got to the dinner party episode of The Office. When Michael says, “You know I have sensitive teeth, how could say that?” You completely lose it. You have to pause the episode because you’re laughing so hard. You start crying from laughter. Harry starts laughing at your infectious laugh.

“Was it really that funny?”

“Yes! I forgot, hahahaha, I forgot he said that!” You can barely breathe. “God, this episode is incredible.” You wipe your eyes. Harry giggles at you.

“I think someone might be tired.”

“I think you’re right.” You sigh. “Shall we?” You stand up and take his hand.

You both brush your teeth and wash your faces, a habit you had gotten Harry into. He used to only washed his face in the shower, you showed him the error of his ways.

“Baby, could you unzip me please?” You ask as he’s just taking off his shirt.

“Sure thing, love.”

Harry comes up behind you and unzips your dress. You reach behind yourself and unhook your bra immediately. Sighing at the relief from the tight material. You push the top of your dress down, Harry peels your bra off the rest of the way, looking at your back.

“Jesus.” He says, tracing over the red marks on your back. “No wonder you hate wearin’ these things.”

“I just need to buy some new ones.” You walk over to your dresser, half dressed. “Maybe you could come to the mall with me this weekend?”

“Sure.” He stifles a laugh. You put your hands on your hips.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look cute like that.” You look down at yourself and start laughing.

You slide your dress the rest of the way down and put it in your hamper. You slip a t-shirt on over yourself, and slide your panties off, sighing again.

“Why didn’t you change when we got home? You could’ve been way more comfy.” Harry says taking his pants off.

“I’m just so lazy, it’s too much work to change sometimes.” He rolls his eyes playfully at you.

You both get into bed, it was only a little after nine, so you both stay up a while longer. Harry takes out his book from the night table he used on “his” side of the bed. You scroll on your phone. He took out his reading glasses as well. You secretly loved when he’d wear them. It wasn’t often.

“Is that a good book babe?”

“Hm?” He says taking his glasses off to look at you. “Oh, yeah it is.”

“What’s it about?”

“Nothin’ special, just a romance novel.” You try not to laugh. You didn’t want to make fun of the things he liked. “I know, it’s silly, but I like them. I don’t have to think too much while I read ‘em, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I like to read on my phone, really tires my eyes out.”

“I try not to screen before bed if I can help it.”

“You’re better than I am. I literally need my phone to fall asleep.”

“Well, s’not the only thing that makes you sleepy.” He smirks at you. “I can think of another thing that really tuckers you out.” You put your phone on your night table.

“What’s that?” You ask, knowing full well what the answer is.

Harry leans in close to you, giving you a deep kiss. You moan as his tongue enters your mouth, tasting the mint from your toothpaste. Your hands move to pull him on top of you, wanting to feel his full weight on you. One of his hands goes into your hair, and the other to your hip. Your hands are on his lower back while your legs wrap around him. He bit down on your bottom lip, and sucked on it, causing you to moan again. The hand on your hip goes up under your shirt, and grips your full breast. His fingers twist your nipple piercing. You groan into his mouth, your lips moving to nip at his jaw and neck.

“Go ahead, bite me baby.” He says into your ear.

You sink your teeth into his tender skin, and he rolls his hips into you. You suck on him slowly, sliding your tongue over his skin to soothe him the second you taste a little of his blood.

“God, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He growls.

Harry lifts your shirt up over your head, and dives his head into your breasts. He leaves wet kisses on both, before taking your left nipple between his teeth. You arch up into him, loving the way the sensation feels.

“Harry.” You moan.

“Bet you could come, just for me doin’ this.”

“Fuck.” He sucks on you harder.

“But I don’t feel like gettin’ ya off that easy.” He reaches down between your legs and smirks. “Always so wet for me, love.” He looks at you. “I’d like to have a taste, that alright?” You nod your head yes. “Like to try it a little differently, could we do that?”

“How, um, shit, how do you want to um…” You can barely get a word out while he plays with your clit.

“Well, I’d like you to flip over, so I can do it from behind.” You sit up against the headboard and give him a look. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know if I want my ass in your face like that.”

“It’ll be just like when we-“

“No, it’s different. I mean, what if you accidentally lick my asshole or something?” He just blinks at you as his cheeks grow red. “That wouldn’t gross you out?!”

“Not really, you’re a pretty clean girl. You shower every chance you get.” He chuckles. “Sometimes things happen in the heat of the moment. I’d lick ya anywhere you wanted.” Now your cheeks are growing red. “But if it makes you uncomfortable…”

“Why do you want to do it that way?”

“Well, to get ya feelin’ real good, and then I’d like to slip my fingers in from behind.” Your eyes grow wide.

“Oh, I see.”

“If you don’t want-“

“Go turn the light off.” He smirks, and does as you say.

Harry comes back from the bed, and waits for your to flip onto your stomach. His hands find your hips, and brings your butt up closer so you’re on your knees and elbows. He gets right behind you and kisses you on each shoulder, biting down hard and sucking the way he likes to do to you. He places light kisses down your back. His hands grip your ass, and you gasp when he bites down on one of your cheeks.

“Alright?”

“Yes.” Your breathing is getting heavy. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Can I do it again? You have such a nice ass.”

“Mhm.”

He bites down on your other cheek and you gasp again. Why did it feel so good? One of his hands reaches around to rub your clit. He takes it away and rubs you from underneath, a finger running up and down your wet slit.

“Harry.” You moan.

“I’m takin’ my time, be patient.”

His hands spread your cheeks apart, then uses his thumbs to spread your lips apart. You feel his tongue dive into you without warning.

“Shit.” You groan.

He licks and sucks on you, drinking in your wetness. He drags his tongue up and down in the most sensual motions.

“Oh, Harry.” You moan, sinking your nails into your pillow.

His groans send vibrations through your body. You push back on his face, making him lick and suck harder. His tongue drags up from your center to just under your button.

“If you do that I swear to god I will not kiss you for a week!” He lifts his head.

Without saying anything, he takes his hand and rubs your wet center and drags a thumb up to bring your wetness to just under where his tongue was previously.

“How ‘bout this?”

“You can rub it, but don’t stick it in.”

He rubs his thumb around your hole and you can’t help but moan. It felt good, in an odd way. You felt his middle finger slide into your dripping pussy. Your back arches.

“Good?”

“Yes, more please.”

He slowly slips a second finger in, feeling you tighten around him. Your walls soft and spongey, making him moan as he starts to pump in and out of you. His other hand reaches around to rub your clit.

“Fuck, Harry.”

“Do you like feelin’ me, so deep?”

“So deep, so good.”

Your legs start to shake, you can barely keep yourself up. You’re panting and moaning his name over and over.

“Go ahead, come for me.”

Your hands rake into your pillow as you release all over his fingers. He wasn’t done with you yet though. Harry sucks off your juices from his fingers, and flips you back over. Without giving you a chance to catch your breath, his mouth is on your clit.

“Fucking Christ!”

His tongue darts back into you as his thumb works your clit. Your hands are in his hair, grabbing on tightly. Harry groans into you repeatedly.

“Harry! I’m gonna ahhhhh..” You release onto his tongue. You were drenched in sweat, but he still wasn’t done with you.

Harry puts his mouth back on your clit, and slips two fingers back into you, curling them up in a come here motion. What was he trying to do to you? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t think straight.

“Ah!” He hit your g-spot. He smirks while continuing to nibble on your clit.

He continues to pump in and out of you while hitting the spot. You feel your stomach start to tighten again, and your legs are quaking. You tighten yourself around his fingers.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You scream, slamming your head into your pillow, arching up fully off the mattress. Harry let out a loud groan of your name.

He shifts himself, before he can lick up your juices, you pull his head up by his hair.

“Please.” You say with your eyes closed. “Please, let me tap out. It’s too much.” Your legs were still shaking a bit, and your chest was heaving. You open your eyes to look at him. He had a big smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you once I could do this for hours if you let me?”

“But Harry.” You whine. “It’s a school night.” He giggles at you and gets off the bed. “Where are you going, I want to reciprocate.” He takes his boxers off, and grabs a different pair.

“You did already.” You prop yourself up on your elbows.

“What?”

“I came in my shorts. You were so wet, and just tasted so good, I couldn’t hold on.” He gets back into the bed with you. He kisses you on the top of your head. Your mouth agape. “What?” You can’t find words, your head was still spinning. “Speechless?” He smirks. You nod your head yes. “C’mere, let’s have a cuddle.”

You lay your head on his chest, not caring that you’re too hot to cuddle. He really did know what it took to tucker you out. You were just about to fall asleep when you realized you needed to pee.

“Shit, I have to go clean myself up!”

“How come girls always need to pee after sex?”

“You gotta clean up after someone goes down on you, or you could get a UTI, girls get them easier than guys, and they are painful.”

“You’ve had one before?”

“Only once.” You shudder. “Not something I would wish on my worst enemy. It’s the most uncomfortable thing in the world.” You get out of bed and fall to the floor. “Oof!” Harry crawls to the edge of the bed and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yup, just didn’t quite have my balance.” You stand up slowly. Your legs were really shaky.

You rush into the bathroom, and pee to clean yourself up. You come back and slowly get into bed. Oh yeah, you were going to be sore in the morning.

“Ya good?”

“Mhm.”

“Turn over so I can spoon ya.” You giggle and give him a quick kiss before turning over. “I love you baby, goodnight.”

“Love you too, sweet dreams.”

You woke up extremely groggy the next morning, and actually hit snooze when your alarm went off; something you never did. You actually hit snooze twice. By the time you got up, you could only shuffle around you. You were sore all over. Between the way his fingers went in and out of you, and how roughly he rubbed your clit, you wanted to slap him upside the head for making you walk like you had a stick up your ass. You opted for a pair of black slacks, a blue blouse, and a light grey blazer. You left your hair down and curly, not having the energy to straighten or put it up. Really, even if you had just run your blow dry through it, it wouldn’t have looked like such a mess. By the time you washed our face and got dressed, you realized you just did not have time for a full face of makeup. So you put some concealer on and the couple of blemishes you had, and finished up in the bathroom.

You glared at him sleeping happily, face shoved into the pillow. You weren’t really mad at him. You were more so mad at the fact that you had to leave him. He was so cozy and warm. Harry’s work days were so different from yours, most of the time he didn’t have to up until eight, when you already needed to be at work. You wobble over to him, and kiss the top of his head, and leave the bedroom.

You stop off for yours and Niall’s coffees, and go straight to his office. He looked tired this morning too. You remembered that he and Sarah had a date last night as well. You walk right up to his desk, and plop his coffee down, without saying much, you both grunt at each other.

Just as you’re sitting down at your desk, you see him appear in the doorway with a smirk on his face.

“What?”

“You look terrible, you know that?”

“You came all the way down here to tell me that?” He chuckles.

“Are you alright? You look paler than a ghost.”

“You’re such a dick!” You giggle. “I’m just not wearing any makeup today.” You see your reflection in the computer screen. “Jesus, and my hair looks worse than earlier.” You scramble in your desk drawer and take out an elastic. You stand up, bend over, and put your hair up in a messy bun. “Is this any better?”

“Sort of…did you not sleep well?”

“No, I slept fine. Probably went to bed a little too late, and I made the mistake of hitting snooze this morning. I swear it’s always worse if you don’t just get up.”

“What did you and Harry do last night?” Flashes of your three separate, incredibly intense orgasms come to your mind and you shiver as you feel a pulse run through you.

“Um, we just went to dinner, you know, watched a little TV.” Niall steps in more to your office, and closes the door a bit. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Get a little frisky did ya? S’okay, I did too.” He sighs happily. “Hadn’t seen Sarah since Friday.”

“I’m so glad you too are doing so well.”

“Me too. So, go on, gimme the details.”

“You’re like a little school girl!” You swat at him, and lean against your desk. “We just tried some different positions.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re walkin’ with your ass clenched.” He laughs.

“Why were you looking at my ass?” You laugh harder.

“I wasn’t, but I noticed you were walkin’ funny.” He gasps. “Did you two do it?”

“No.” You say bluntly.

“Then what could he have done to ya?”

“He...” You blush and close your office door all the way. “Fingered me from behind.” You whisper looking down at the ground. “But that wasn’t it. He flipped me over immediately and did it again, and then…he just kept, you know, going.” You make eye contact with your friend who has a smirk on his face. “It was like, primal or something. I don’t know, I had to tap out eventually.”

“He has sex like a lesbian, I swear to god.” You both start laughing.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like, girls just keep going until they can’t go anymore.”

“How would you know that?”

“We had some friends in college that were lesbians, told us a whole bunch of tricks. Your friend Rachel hasn’t ever mentioned anything to you?”

“Not really, though, come to think of it, when she would bring a girl over…well, they’d be in there for hours.”

“Exactly. I think as long as you’re not lettin’ him stick it in, this is how it’s going to be.”

“I’m not complaining or anything.”

“No, I know, but he’s just going to come up with more creative things like this until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“Oh, so this is just some covert operation for him to get his dick wet?” You scoff. “He doesn’t even need me to touch him to get off, Niall. He just likes doing that.”

“What in the fuck do you mean?”

“He has come, and will come, from just being down there.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m serious! It happened a lot when we first started getting intimate, then it sort of stopped the more I reciprocated. It really turns him on.”

“Jesus, no wonder he had a fuckin’ line of women out his door. It was like a fuckin’ deli counter at our apartment sometimes.” He shakes his head, and notices your fallen face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t mention his past to you.”

“S’okay.” You shrug. “It was before we knew each other. I wasn’t exactly a prude myself.” You sigh. “Did he really sleep with that many women?”

“Do you really wanna know the answer to that?”

Before you can answer, there’s a knock on your door. You reach around Niall to open it, and see your supervisor. She gives you both a funny look, wondering why your door would be closed with just you and Niall.

“Good morning you two. A little meeting before the meeting?”

“Just catchin’ up on the gossip to wake up a bit.” Niall says. He was better at smoothing things over than you were. “Shall we? Just need a second to grab my laptop.” You grab yours and head for the conference room.

“Are you feeling alright?” She says to you as you both walk down the hall.

“Um, yeah, just a slow start this morning. Didn’t have time for makeup.”

“Ah. Happens to the best of us.” You both smile as you sit down in the swivel chairs in the conference room. Niall comes bouncing in.

You have a discussion about the project you and Matt have been working on. Your supervisor is pleased with how much has gotten done already, and tells you to keep up the good work. You can’t help but feel like her eyes keep traveling to your neck, you realize that since your hair is up, the splotch Harry left on your neck is visible. And since you didn’t have time for makeup, you didn’t even think to cover it up. You nonchalantly put your hand over the spot as she speaks with Niall about what’s needed next.

After the meeting you go into the bathroom with the flat iron you keep in your desk, and tame your hair, now able to leave it down.

“You feel okay?” Matt asks, coming into your office.

“Christ, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that today. Didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to not wear makeup.” He sits at the chair on the other side of your desk.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything.” You sigh.

“It’s fine, I’m just really tired.”

“Long day?”

“Yeah.” You say, not wanting to elaborate further with your twenty-year-old intern. After what Niall mentioned yesterday, you thought it would be good to be a bit colder to him. “It’s like five hundred degrees in here today, excuse me.” You get up to take your blazer off, and hang it on the back of your door. You open your office door up all the way to get the most airflow. Matt can’t help but look at the small bit of cleavage peeking through the top of your blouse.

About an hour into working together your phone starts to buzz, you smile when you see Harry’s name. Matt had his headphones so you figured he wouldn’t mind if you took the personal call.

“Hey you.” You say.

“Hey babe.” He says warmly.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, had a quick break, thought I’d see how your day was going.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. It’s good, I’m a little tired.”

“I heard your alarm go off a couple times.”

“I hit snooze.”

“You never do that.”

“Well, like I said, I was tired.”

“We didn’t go to bed that late.” He was being coy with you. He wanted you to say out loud, just exactly why you were tired. Normally you would, but you didn’t want Matt to risk hearing you.

“Um…Matt’s here in my office, so I can’t really…be cute with you right now.” You say, cheeks flushing. Matt looks up at you, and notices your nervousness.

“Ohhhh, I see, so you don’t want him to hear that you’re tired because your boyfriend went to town on your pussy last night?” You stand up immediately and walk to the other side of your office.

“Harry.” You whisper harshly. “Stop it.”

“What?” He chuckles. “Alright, alright, don’t wanna getcha all hot and bothered without me there to take of ya, I see.”

“Seriously.” You feel yourself starting to sweat, and an ache brewing within you. “You know,” You whisper carefully, looking over your shoulder to make sure Matt is still working. “I could barely walk this morning? Looked like I had a stick up my ass.”

“And you’re blaming me?” He asks sarcastically.

“Who else is there to blame? I mean, I could take it a step further and say your fat fuckin’ fingers.”

“Hey, your intern is there, remember? And my fingers were only fat because my rings were still on. They get a bit swollen at the end of the day.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You glance at Matt again. “He can’t hear me, I moved, and he has his headphones in.” You sigh.

“Only a few more hours. I think you’re really gonna like dinner tonight, I’m excited to make it for you.”

“You’re so sweet.” You yawn. “Alright, I better go, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You shake your head and sit back down, giving Matt a half smile. Little did you know he had paused the music he was listening to, and heard every bit of your conversation. Well, at least your half of it. His cheeks were a bit red.

“I just need to go, um, refill my water bottle.” He says.

“Sure, you don’t need my permission, not like you’re in class.” You smile.

Matt was a pretty good looking guy. He was tall, not as tall as Harry, but still a good height. He had a little muscle on him, but he was lean, definitely not a football player. You recalled that he was on the club rugby team at his school. He had light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was incredibly nice and trustworthy when it came to getting his work done. You were thankful for having an intern this semester.

He returns in a few minutes, taking a big gulp of his water, and gets back to work. Your afternoon is more quiet than usual, but he needed to know this was a place of work, and not a place for him to lust after you. You picked up on more of when he would take small glances of you, and when his eyes would dip to your chest. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, but it was something you were keeping your eyes on.

“So, I, uh talked to my friends about Pinz.” He says, you take your earbuds out.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, they said it was a great idea. We’re planning this huge party. A couple of my buddies turn twenty-one next month too.”

“That’ll be fun, Matt.” He loved when you said his name.

“Thanks again for the suggestion.”

“Any time.”

“What did you do for your twenty-first birthday?”

“Well, my birthday is over the summer, so my girlfriends and I rented out this beach house on the seacoast. We had a big party, but it was also fun to just be on the beach for a long weekend with my closest friends.”

“You’re lucky to have a summer birthday. Way more party options. I feel like as a kid we always had to do like movie theater parties and stuff like that.” You didn’t want to get into childhood birthday parties, or think of the fights your parents had the two times you were allowed to have a party. You simply nodded along.

Your phones goes off, and you see a text from Niall. You open it to see he sent you an image, a meme from an inside joke. You burst out laughing, and can hear him laughing from his office. You get up to go down the hall to laugh with him. Matt is thoroughly confused when you come back in, wiping tears from your eyes.

“You two are close, huh? You and Mr. Horan?” He asks as you sit back down.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been friends since I started here. We sorta latched onto each other since we’re two of the younger people in the office. Not that I don’t like other people we work with, but it’s nice to have someone to relate to. He’s only a couple years older than I am.”

“And you both just clicked right away?”

“Yeah.” You smile, thinking back to the day you first met Niall. He was still dying his hair blond back then. “We have a lot in common, same sense of humor. We started eating lunch together almost every day, then we started casually buying each other coffee. I remember the first time I hung out with him outside of work, it was actually a work holiday party. We stuck to each other like glue.”

“Did you two ever date? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Me and Niall!” You scoff. “No…now that I think about it, I think we have a no dating policy here.” You pause to ponder. “Or if you do date your colleague, you have to disclose it with HR. No, we’re sort of like work spouses, you know? He’s been there for me through some tough times. I’m lucky to know him and have him in my life the way I do.”

“You two make working here look like fun.”

“Working in an office isn’t always glamorous, but when you make good friends it definitely helps. Knowing I’ll get to chat with him Monday morning always gets me excited for the week.”

“So you two don’t hang out outside of work much?”

“No we do, just not as often as we were. He’s dating one of my best girlfriends, and I’m obviously with Harry, so some priorities have changed. But, we still make time for each other. Double dates have been fun.” You smile. “We look out for each other, we always have each other’s back.”

“That’s good. I hope I make friends so easily when I actually start working.”

“Do you think you wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “It’s just weird about coming into the real world. I mean, I only have one more year of school left.”

“It flies by, that’s for sure. But, you’re making good connections here. We like to keep our interns too, so you never know what could happen.”

“You’re a very nice person, has anyone ever told you that?” Your eyes widen a little.

“Um, once or twice, but thank you.” You look at the time, and see it’s 4:30. “Hey, if you wanna duck out early, feel free. My brain is fried, so I think I’m just gonna catch up on email for the next half hour.”

“Oh, alright thanks.” He gets up and packs his laptop away. “I didn’t, uh, make you uncomfortable with my comment did? I was just trying to say that I appreciate how nice you’ve been to me. You all could treat me as a coffee boy, but you don’t. I like getting to work on real projects.”

“You didn’t, don’t worry. And thanks. Wouldn’t be much of an internship if we had you running around doing nonsense. You’re definitely valued here.” After he leaves you go down to Niall’s office and plop down into one of his chairs.

“I feel like I either see you all day, or not at all. There’s no in between.” He smiles.

“I think you were right about Matt.”

“What do you mean?” His smile completely gone.

“I think he has a crush on me or something.”

“What happened?”

“I was very quiet with him today, up until the end of the day, I sent him out early. But I noticed he kept like, stealing glances…especially here.” You point to your cleavage. “I could wear the highest neckline, but there’s nothing I can do, I have big boobs.”

“Was he like blatantly staring?”

“No, but he was definitely looking, trying to be discrete about it, but a woman just knows when she’s being ogled. And then he started asking me all these questions about you and I, and how we became such great friends, and if we ever dated.”

“Maybe he was just curious…if he gets creepy or weird let me know and we can tell HR. Gotta cut the shit on the kind of behavior right away.”

“Definitely. God I hope he didn’t hear me on the phone with Harry earlier.”

“You took a call with him in there?”

“I thought he was just calling to say hi, but I moved to other side of the room, and he had his headphones in.”

“Could’ve paused his music to listen in.”

“I was whispering.” Niall sighs.

“How old is he?”

“Almost twenty-one.”

“I don’t want to make this sound like a boys will be boys thing, but try to see it from a different perspective. He’s a young guy who gets to sit an office, alone, with a pretty, older woman for four hours a day. I bet he goes back to his buddies at school and tells them all about what you wear and how you laugh. But like I said, if it gets weird or creepy, we will squash it.”

“It didn’t make me uncomfortable, and I’ve made it clear I have a boyfriend…people are allowed to have crushes. May not even be a crush, he might just be attracted to me.” Niall sighs. “What?”

“I don’t want to make you upset, but sometimes you’re a little too nice. It’s okay to be upfront with him, set some guidelines to how this all works. He doesn’t actually work here, he needs to know what appropriate behavior is and what’s not.” He sighs again. “Look, why don’t I talk to him next time he’s in. Okay?”

“Okay, yeah, I think it’ll be better if you chat with him first.” You groan. “It’s not easy being irresistible you know?” You both giggle.

You can’t wait to get home to Harry. He had seen you without makeup plenty of times, so at least you knew he wouldn’t make any comments about your appearance. When you keyed into your apartment, you smelled something absolutely delectable.

“Hey you!” He says, looking at you over his shoulder. You walk over and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you making?”

“Pancakes…made from bananas. Thought we could have breakfast for dinner.” He smiles.

“I could cry this look amazing, thank you.” You give him another kiss on the cheek. “Just gonna go change into something cozy.”

“I have some extra sweats here, feel free to wear m’pants.��

“Thanks babe.”

Nothing was better than supreme domestic bliss. Nothing was better than coming home, and having your apartment smell so amazing. Nothing was better than Harry, plain and simple.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #fluff #smut #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #this one is long my bad

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jjpmoans · 5 years ago

Text

Empty Space | kyg

w.c : 9k+ words

warnings : angsts. lots and lots of angsts. cheating. slow build up.

a/n : Happy 1k followers to me! I’d like to thank everyone for following me, staying for my content and my writings. I need to improve more and I am sorry that I’ve not been active. I am still overwhelmed by the 1k followers and it is now at 1.2k followers (OMG 1.2K WHAT DO YOU GUYS FOLLOW ME FOR). Also since I wasn’t active, I figured a drabble game will have less participation from my audience so I decided to personally dm the 1000th follower and asked them what kind of fic and who does they want to be the main lead. Sooooooo, my 1000th follower @luvgyeom requested for a Yugyeom angst, then Yugyeom angst it is! It is quite long (this is my first time writing this long lmao). Please enjoy all the heartbreak. Thankyou for following me again! xoxo

Heavy steps resonate through the sidewalk, together with everyone else. Everyone is either walking home from work, probably catching up with friends or going for a movie. What they are going to do is absolutely not something Yugyeom actually cares about. However, with the things running through his head now, he’d rather wonder about a stranger’s plan rather than sort things out.

It has been sunny for a while now. The heat is bearable; at least to Yugyeom. Or probably he has lost the ability to feel because he doesn’t think he can function really well right now. He is getting nearer to the familiar street and for the n-th time of the week, he sucks in a breath to gain some strength.

He passes the first grocery and the roasted chestnut smell from the stall hits him immediately, staggering his step. It rings in his head how you would beg him to stop for some chestnut when he was struggling to hold your groceries. Even if he wanted to say no, the pout on your face will melt him completely. He’d give in, watching you skip steps joyfully towards the stall. Living close to the area has made you a regular, the old grandma will give you extra chestnuts because she thought you’re pretty.

Yugyeom thinks you are, too.

“Oh! You’re here!” like on cue, the said old woman calls him, motioning him to come closer. “I thought you had moved away! You stopped coming for weeks now!”. She quickly gathers some freshly roasted chestnuts because that’s how you like your chestnuts. Fresh.

There are reasons why Yugyeom wanted to say no whenever you stopped for chestnuts. Because he doesn’t eat them. He can’t stand the taste. Until you came. You came and suddenly roasted chestnuts became his favourite. No, actually, you’re his favourite.

He loves you. You love chestnuts. He loves chestnuts.

Yugyeom sighs, now he is adding the smell of chestnut to his ‘dislike’ list. Roasted chestnut now makes him dizzy, clouded by the memory of you. He doesn’t even want to meet someone that reminds him of you, which is why he has avoided the route several times.

However, humans have weaknesses and at times Yugyeom feels like malfunctioning without enough dosage of you. Is this what addiction tastes like? It was pure torture, haunted by countless memories which tastes bitter in his mouth but sweet in his mind. It’s like a combination of life, where Yugyeom thought you’re the one he’d spend his life with forever but it turns out you weren’t meant to be his. He was angry at you, he was trying to deny the fact that you too, have weaknesses. But at times like this, he misses you and he just wants you in his arms.

“Yugyeom?” the old grandma calls. He snaps out of his own thoughts, pulling out his wallet to pay. The grandma holds his hand instead, warmness spreads through the touch. She smiles, shaking her head. “Bring this to her. Fights are common, sweetheart. That’s how love works. But you fight for it, you don’t run away. That’s how you save your relationship.”

If it is that simple, he would have ran to your arms long ago. Where it was just a few days; probably a few hours. But it has been far too late, he has broken countless rules made when he dated you. Nonetheless, on days where he found himself in a stranger’s arms, he knew he won’t find the same love that you’ve provided him with.

Because you’re perfect.

You’re perfect and he took you for granted. He knew you were loyal so he went around flirting, cheating behind you. He knew you love him; you will never leave him. He knew sooner or later you’ll find out about him but he didn’t care less. He knew you love him too much to break up with him.

But he never knew what strength can do to a woman.

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop pretending?” your voice was low, Yugyeom didn’t think he had ever heard your tone as cold as that. But he played dumb, asking you what’s wrong. “Why do you think I won’t find you sleeping around behind my back?”

Yugyeom met you when he was still someone who sleeps around. He was in a group of friends who don’t do relationships and only commit one when they’re ready to hold responsibilities. He had warned you before that he is, and will be someone who cheats because he simply can’t leave his old habit. But you stayed nonetheless, trying to get him out of his lifestyle.

And it worked. It worked out and it freaked Yugyeom out when he felt that he started changing for you. He never lingered too long whenever he was out with his friend because he was ready to go home to you. He never realised that until Jinyoung pointed it out. He never drank too much after meeting you, even though his alcohol tolerance is high because he knew you don’t like him reek of alcohol when he came home.

He learnt about you and had your personal preference memorized at the back of his hand. He knew all your likes and dislikes that it scared him when he felt the change. It threw him off the momentum and like a gear, he reversed his life to where before he met you. He never thought he’d fall in love with you and he never thought he’d change for you.

He was mad and he was scared.

The day he gave up messing around was the day you broke up with him. Yugyeom decided that the lifestyle doesn’t suit him anymore; that he loves you too much to sleep with other people. He can’t see other women without thinking about you but as life always works, you sniff things out way before he can explain.

When Yugyeom walked out of the shared apartment, he told himself he won’t regret leaving. He knew he wasn’t worth your love, your loyalty and your dedication. He knew, you can end up with someone better, someone who cherishes your love, someone who isn’t him.

“Are you good?” Youngjae nudges him with a can of beer, Yugyeom smiles in return. Never would he have thought that he would hate drinking. He refuses every drink that came his way and everyone started freaking out when they found out that you broke up with him.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Bam, was the first to curse, fist almost meeting his face. Bam, his own best friend. He was utterly disgusted, refusing to listen to Yugyeom’s explanation. “It’s good she left you. You’re fucking ungrateful, cheating on someone as angelic and as patient as her. I am embarrassed to call you my own friend.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” he replies, eyes lingering on his group of friends talking to each other, being ignorant to how the world revolves. Jinyoung told him that love works in a different way and now he wants to scoff, the elder must be proud if he knows that Yugyeom indeed, acknowledge his words now. “Just feeling empty.”

Yugyeom knows, you’re the only person that fits well in his heart. He knows that you’re the missing piece, the one that is supposed to solve the puzzle. He knows it but he can’t tell them, his friends. They won’t understand and Yugyeom doesn’t have the energy to fight again, hearing things he will just get blamed.

Nights are the most difficult of all for Yugyeom. Climbing on his bed is another story, he loathes himself whenever he starts thinking when you were once in his arms. He would snuggle you to sleep, your head on his chest while you hugged him.

Never had he thought break ups would be this torturous. Never had he thought he would be this affected; going through this phase is absolutely the worst. Never had he, Kim Yugyeom, felt this weak for a woman.

Staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, Yugyeom finds himself drawing the digit 8 with his eyes when his phone buzzes on the side table, bringing him to reality. Three in the morning, probably Jaebeom is texting him to pick them all up since he is the only sober one. So he picks the phone up, opening them to read the texts.

‘Hey.. I miss you. Can we talk?’ had Yugyeom in a panic attack, right after that an incoming call buzzes, ringing for five seconds before he picks it up.

Silence is probably the worst torture Yugyeom could feel now. It is devastating, knowing you’re on the other side, probably crying because of his stupid ass.

“Yugyeom..” your voice falters, awakens the guilt in him. “Oh god I’m so sorry. I can’t- I miss you. I’m sorry.”

Yugyeom smiles, hushing you to calm down.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Yugyeom replies. “I miss you too.”

“I know I don’t have that kind of right to tell you that.”

“But I really really miss you.”

Yugyeom knows, this will probably be the last conversation before you fully move on, leaving him behind. But he also hopes, you will at least, feel his love before totally erasing him out of your life.

Because for once, he needs you to know that only you can fill these empty spaces.

In Yugyeom’s life, he has never felt as empty as he is now. Mainly he was happy, ‘was’ is the keyword because right now, he feels nothing. Your departure brought along his entire emotion since you’re the person who’s in charge of it. You are the person whom he has dedicated all his life for. You’re the reason why he breathes everyday, looking forward to the rest of his day. Waking up to you is one of the views that sparks the light in his heart.

Cheating on you was his fault.

It was and will forever be his fault. Your departure serves as a reminder to him that he is not worthy of your love and will never be worthy of it. When you were right there by his side, he frequently hesitated to show his love towards you. People say it’s because he’s still young but he knows, he was just too egoistic to show his emotion. He never showed you off in public because he was too proud to have someone loyal by his side. He knew you were grateful enough for his affection, those where he showed them to you behind the closed doors.

However he knows, you deserve more than just being a trophy girlfriend. You are brilliant, excellent and everything he should have been bragging about. But he didn’t do it. He didn’t brag about you and he has lost that chance entirely.

From the moment he saw you smiling with your friend in a dimly lit club, his heart clenched and that’s when he realised, he has lost you.

The night where both of you were vulnerable, Yugyeom still remembers every bit of it. You were crying, sobbing in pain as you vent your frustration on him. He could make out the figure of you clutching your chest, tears streaming down your pink cheeks, dropping down to your wet pillow. The image alone hurts him to the core.

“I’m so sorry.” he says into the receiver. Your heart drops at his apology. A part of you wants him to not apologise, that it makes you more vulnerable and will probably run into his arms again. “I’m sorry for cheating behind you. I have no explanation and I deserve you breaking up with me.”

You want to stop him from talking but all you can do is cry, writhing in silent pain. You know Yugyeom loves you. Or so you thought. Years of your relationship has tricked you into a specific mantra that you have been hypnotised with, the assurance that he loves you. Till that day you keep wanting to believe that you are his everything, the only girl he let into his life and hopefully the last.

Leaving Yugyeom was…painful. It has ripped off your lung, knowing the fact the man you’ve been blindly in love with, was sleeping around behind you. Epiphany hit and the excruciating pain left you speechless. The mantra that kept you together broke, shattering with your future that you have pictured with him. The trust was no longer there, you refused to trust him anymore. For what, really? To make you even more miserable? Knowing that you trusted him too much for him to play your heart like some insignificant thing in his life?

So you leave. You love him and you wanted to hear some explanation of how he messed things up. But you needed to leave. You don’t want him to take your love for granted. You wanted to give him a chance but right now, your heart is in pain. You can’t share your man, you just can’t. You can’t accept him for cheating because never in your life, you would accept a cheater.

Love has made you blind and you want to avoid becoming one.

“Maybe it’s not now,” he said. “I’ll court you again in the future. I’ll gain your trust and I’ll make sure I earned it right.”

“I’ll make myself deserve your love.”

Two years and Yugyeom feels like his life is catching up again. He moved on from the break-up almost a year later, where he figured that life is teaching him how to appreciate people. He changed from a young boy to a mature man, finding a permanent job and wearing proper attire. Funny how he almost sees Jinyoung in him. His friends think the same, he starts to look more proper, more presentable. He is no longer the Yugyeom from two years ago. He left everything in the past to be himself now. He wanted a change, a solid reason to become your man again.

Fate, of course, works differently on both of you. While Yugyeom soars up high, you have become more miserable than you can be. Days and nights are a blur to you, save for those times when you’re at work. Two years made you a zombie, clouded by all ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’. What if you hadn’t left? What if you stayed? What if you give him a chance?

You questioned your every move, of why you never asked him the reason he cheated and of why you chose to run away instead of facing the problem head on.

There is only one reason why.

It’s painful to swallow but you still love him.

A combination of blind and fools, that is what you are. You know this is the hardest pill to swallow, the hardest confession you have yet to make to your friends. Whenever they asked you if you’re interested to start dating again, you pushed them away by saying you’re busy with work. You have seen their side eyes and snickers, you know they knew about the truth.

Kim Yugyeom will always and forever be the only man you’ll set your eyes on.

The first time in two years, your eyes found his. Amidst the crowd, you found him, ash grey and heavy lids. You knew it from the first glance, the way your eyes immediately attracted to that shape of his.You always love those eyes, cheeky and full of enthusiasm.

However that day, you found confident eyes, a little bit tired but still a strong gaze. You know he met yours too because the next second you find his eyes dilated, diverting the contact. A sharp tug in your heart brought you to reality, shaking you from your mindless dream.

Why?

Doesn’t he miss you? Doesn’t he suffer the same way as you did? Has he moved on? Has he?

You’re enraged by the thought, a string of curses left your mouth while you walk home in tears. However as you hit the shower, you felt yourself relaxing under the warm rain. Then you realise that you’re relieved to see him. You’re relieved to know he’s alive and healthy without you. It’s a lie if you didn’t feel hurt. A part of you wanted to see him miserable as you are but at the same time you were thankful that he managed to live without you. Between the two of you, you’re the mature one while Yugyeom couldn’t even cook instant noodles with the stove. He is more to hot water instant noodles. So when you find him breathing and alive, you have a tiny jealousy in your heart knowing he is better off without you. You guess this is better, parting ways and not existing in each other’s life.

Unknowingly, you find yourself walking through the same route every other day of the week, looking forward to chances that you could probably meet him, even just a quick glance. On your third day, you realise that this is the old route you used to go shopping with him, the one where you always buy your roasted chestnut.

You went home crying, sobbing into the pillow as it swallowed your tears away.

The next day, you still walk on the same route, stronger than before.

Days become weeks.

Weeks become months.

You never stop, holding to that thin rope of hope to meet him again. Each day you walk through the same route at the same time you met him months ago, wishing that he will be there, probably just standing there and quirk a smile.

Just knowing that he acknowledges you is already fine. You just need that.

Yugyeom knows you’re there.

He knows it.

He met your chestnut, tired eyes. You looked like – dare he say – miserable. His stomach churned at the possibilities that you may probably haven’t moved on from him, still trapped in the same heartbreak he caused you two years ago. He saw you first, when you were dragging your feet against the bricked floor not giving any attention to your front. It felt like his eyes were glued to you, your beauty kept him stunned; no really, he just missed you. He felt his heart did a little flip when you swatted your hair away from your face, a gesture whenever you were irritated but still keeping that long hair because Yugyeom loves it. He kept watching you walk until you spotted your favourite roasted chestnut stall, the same old stall. Then your eyes suddenly caught his, making him flustered, flying away from your figure.

For the last two years, Yugyeom kept finding himself in a position where he wanted to have you all to himself, selfishly thinking to end his own suffering. He even went to the extent of calculating a plan to win you over, to kneel and to beg for you.

“You think she’ll take you back?” Yugyeom hated it when Jinyoung questioned his every move. He hated that Jinyoung always sounded right, always taking on your side instead of his. “Why do you think she left you in the first place?”

“Stop trying to bring me down.” he hated when Jinyoung was right.

“You don’t understand!” Jinyoung’s voice thundered, breaking through the silent apartment. “You don’t fucking understand why!”

Jinyoung has no reason to be mad to start with. However Yugyeom’s attempts at winning you over again made him seethed in anger, trying to set the poor boy straight.

“You don’t understand that she didn’t leave because she hated you. She was hurt. You fucking hurt her. You cheated on her and yet you wanted her to accept you back?” Yugyeom ran his eyes from Jinyoung’s, only to land on Bambam’s. That man was no longer his friend the day he revealed how you left him.

“Let’s put it this way, Gyeom-ah.” Apparently Youngjae is the calmer one hence he was with the right mind to put some good words inside Yugyeom’s brain. The other two were still angry, refusing to talk without a string of curse words. “You love one girl. You are crazy about her, you are willing to sacrifice everything for her.”

“I do love her-”

“Then one day, you came home to know that she’s been cheating behind your back. She had another man behind you, god knows how many men she has been sleeping with.”

“I didn’t sleep with them-”

Jinyoung beat him to it, punctuating each word. “Does she know?”

“Doesn’t it hurt you when the one that holds your trusts, betrays you?” Youngjae sat in front of him, patting his shoulder. “Doesn’t it hurt you?”

From that day he vowed to be better, to stop playing around and to start all over again.

“How could I make her love me again, hyung?” was one of frequent questions that he’s thrown to his friends. “How could I make her fall for me all over again?”

Mark was definitely the most sane of all, scooting closer to calm the broken boy. “Be a man, Yugyeom. Fix yourself. Fix the old you. Man up and explain yourself. Don’t hope for her to accept you back. Explain yourself and let the time decide.”

That was the reason he changed. He has long given up trying to make you fall into his arms again, however he wanted you to know what happened. You deserve an explanation. You deserve to know what happened and what should have happened. Each day the guilt weighed him to no end. At times he felt suffocated, being chased by the old memories, fragments of that day haunted him over and over again.

Yugyeom had never wanted to hug someone so much after he made eye contact with you that day.

He went home to Bambam, crying over the sadness bottling up his lungs. His fear came to reality, seeing you completely lost in the sea of people. He has totally broken you into pieces and he shall be the one putting you up again.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Jaebeom asks, watching Yugyeom lost in his own thought, his eyes staring into space. “What harm would you bring if you meet her?”

It has been known to his group of friends that Yugyeom met you again at the crosswalk and you are waiting for him every day. You hadn’t realised but his friends were there too, each day when you peered to see his shadow at the same spot like last time. His friends saw you whipped your head left and right, then when you can’t see him, your shoulder would slump and you would walk home like how you usually do.

Sad, broken, helpless.

“Go fix her, Gyeom-ah.” Jackson advises. “Things are getting worse for her. You need to be responsible for this. Don’t run from the problem. Face it. You’re a man.”

Yugyeom looks away from the mindless stare, focusing his vision on his hyungs. “What if I fuck up again? What if I made her fall for me and I fuck up again?”

“I never told you to make her fall again.” Jaebeom bent closer, patting the younger man on his head. “Fix her. Then let her decide. Don’t take advantage of her. Fix her. She’s broken. Help her realise that her life isn’t worth being pathetic for you.”

“Ouch.” Jaebeom smiles, rubbing circles on Yugyeom’s shoulder. “I’m proud of how far you have come. You have us but she has no one, Gyeom-ah. Help her fix herself as strong as you are. Then let her decide if you are worth accepting again.”

“Can I have it like usual?” the old grandma smiles, her hand is busy packing you a bag of roasted chestnut and honey coated chestnut. Your inside jumps at the delicious smell of your food, giddy to go home and devour them. Months ago you passed the route for Yugyeom. Today you passed the route for your old chestnut stall.

Securing the package, the old grandma proceeds to hand you the food with the change. While you busy yourself keeping the change, she clears her throat. “You look happy today.”

The statement makes you exclaim a small oh! before giving her a curious look.

Instead of replying, she laughs and starts cleaning her station. “It has been quite long since you stopped buying my chestnuts.”

“I guess the young man and you have parted ways?” she asks.

The question punches your gut, causing your bottle of emotion to shake and start making a mess inside you. It has been known to your circle about your break-up but to a stranger like the old grandma? Of course this hits you hard, knowing that a stranger managed to sniff your relationship like that.

She looks up when you don’t respond, offering a sweet apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I offended you sweetheart. I saw you happy today, so I thought you’d move on from the young man.”

You didn’t actually blame her, she used to be fond of Yugyeom. Every time you stopped to buy, she would squeal at how nice and handsome Yugyeom is, much to Yugyeom’s liking. You guess that is a common thing to ask, since it has been two years and now you came alone.

“I guess we are not meant together, grandma.” you force a reply out of you, knowing that it probably hurt the old woman if you stayed silent. “We parted ways long ago.”

She hums, watching you dearly. “Do you love him, sweetheart?”

A mere question bursts a thousand emotions, that’s how your tears broke. You nod furiously, unable to contain the sadness anymore. You feel like a useless fool, you have no idea how Yugyeom has so much control in your life that once he’s out of your sight you’ve become this fragile.

She pulls you into her arms, giving you a comforting, motherly-hug. You don’t know if it helps because you feel so small in her arms and you cry your heart out, tired of bottling everything in. You wanted someone to talk to, but your friends won’t understand. They will continue to call you a weak person, someone who still loves a cheater like Yugyeom. You wanted to tell them that you are indeed a fool but you need them to stand back up again.

“Stop crying sweetheart.” she says softly. “I can see you love him so much. Why don’t you fight for your relationship?”

To that you cry even harder, countless ‘what ifs’ hits you again full force. Are you the one to be blamed in this situation? Are you the one who stopped fighting for your relationship? Why would you hold him back if he went around cheating while having you by his side? You are a human too, you can’t share what is yours.

��I don’t know the problem between you two, sweetheart. But what holds you from moving on is because you still have regrets.” she strokes your hair, calming you down. “Talk to him. Vent out your frustration. Let him know that you are not okay with this.”

She wipes away your tears-stained face, giving you an encouraging smile. “Then you can be at ease. You will feel better. You will, sweetheart.”

Words can’t describe how nervous you are, sitting in front of Yugyeom after two years. He looks equally nervous, a different kind of nervous. He looks like he’s afraid that you might break down - which you probably would - and he doesn’t know what to do. So after gulping your saliva for the nth time, you clear your throat, attempting to sort everything out.

If you guys are going to stay silent like this then this meeting won’t ease your mind.

“I’m sorry.” left you gaping, heart drumming at an intense rate. You watch Yugyeom’s Adam Apple bobs, arranging his words. “I am sorry for everything I did to you.”

You can’t say no, because indeed, he was the one to blame. “It wasn’t my intention.” he darts his panic eyes to you, licking his lips to continue, “to cheat. It was never an intention to cheat.”

You inwardly scoff, unbelievably irritated by his explanation. It wasn’t intentional? So like- what, he lost control of himself and suddenly made out with some random woman? It makes no sense and because it doesn’t; your irritation becomes more visible.

“What? You mean ‘oh I lost control of my limbs and suddenly a woman was riding me’? Disgusting.” you spat out words without thinking, your heart aches more than you can ever give him your empathy. You are disgusted with him.

As bad as your words come out, he stays collected; even more surprising to you. He shakes his head, leaning closer to the table that separates both of you. “No, I don’t mean it that way.”

“I never intended to cheat. Not because I got bored of you nor because I feel like cheating. I didn’t-” he doesn’t miss how your eyes narrow at his explanation, still feeling disgusted as he refused to come clean. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

‘Unbelievable-”

“Think what you want to, but I never slept with anyone when and after we dated. I admit I went clubbing and made out with some women,” he grimaces as he remembers the vague image in his head, “But I never bed them.”

“Never bed them?”

“I can’t. You are everywhere and I felt like I was committing a huge sin.”

“Technically, you were.” you can’t help but blurt it out.

“Yes. The worst sin I had ever committed.”

You feel your throat dries, knowing this is the time for you to ask him. This is the time for you to find out the truth. This is where your future lies. His answer will determine how your misery ends. This is where your curiosity will be answered and you feel yourself chickening out from this conversation. What if he breaks your heart again, reminding you how dumb you were, breaking things between you two without listening to him first?

However there is no way you’re running out of this restaurant. You’re here and you need to admit that no matter how dumb you were, you and him were over. A broken glass can’t be put back again so you decide to screw it. Timidly, you hang your head low and manage to let out a small but clear word. “Then..why?”

In return you heard Yugyeom scoffing, laughing to himself and stopped. That’s it. He’s about to make fun of you, saying how you are so clouded with your own conclusion and emotion, how you are always the one that overthinks, that you’re the reason why you break up.

Amidst your inner banter, you tip your head curiously and instantaneously your heart stops at how his face changes. You can see right through him, his pain and his misery. His face holds so much regret that you can almost feel the pain in his heart.

You can see the real Yugyeom, broken and in pain.

“I was stupid, y/n.” he says.

“I was stupid, I was scared. God I was so so stupid.” he repeats again, one after another. “I was scared because I started changing into someone I don’t know.”

“I dated you for just one year and I changed from a free boy to a committed boy. I was committed to our relationship and it scared me how I changed in a split second because of you.” he pauses to inhale a suffocating breath, painfully stabbing him through his lungs. “I was pathetic. I was so scared seeing how dependent I’ve been to you and I feel like you could control me with just a snap of your finger.”

You fall into silence, shaken by his confession.

However, silence was never Yugyeom’s favourite; yours top everything. He was scared to explain because he knows it will look unreasonable and pathetic in your eyes. He knows it is, judging by how ridiculous you’re looking at him now.

“So..you slept around because you were scared of changing?” the tone of your voice changes, exactly as cold as Yugyeom could remember, just the exact tone from the day things fall apart between you.

His head drops again, voice coming out with hesitation. “It sounds ridiculous, yes it does. But you don’t understand how scared I was. I was becoming someone under your control. It was weird because I usually have everything under my control. I wasn’t used to being under someone’s spell and it blinded me to the point where I don’t feel as happy as I was when hanging out with my friend just because you weren’t there.”

“Then I thought that’s probably because I hang out with you too much. I’ve become dependent on you, I thought that was totally ridiculous when Bambam told me that’s because I’m in love with you.”

His shoulder jolts when he lets out a forced laugh. “Me? Capable of loving? Love wasn’t in my dictionary back then, y/n. I was messing around and it threw me off guard when Bam mentioned that. Love? What kind of love would I be able to give you? I was a boy, I have nothing but a simple life. I wasn’t ready for commitment but you made me fall deeper for you.”

“So I messed up. Like how Kim Yugyeom would, I messed up.” for the first time since he spoke, he looked you straight in the eyes. “It took me two weeks to realise that ‘shit, I’m in love with y/n’ and another one week to get my shit together, thinking of how I should break it to you.”

You’ve been listening attentively to his explanation, the gears in your head moved rapidly, overlapping one issue with another.

‘So for one year he didn’t love me?’

‘But he did. Just he didn’t realise.’

‘But he needed three weeks to realise when he’s been with me for one year?’

‘He was confused, y/n.’

“What,” you inhale, composing yourself. “happened the day we broke up?”

You found out about him a few days before you broke up. One of your acquaintances kept hinting to you about your relationship. When she got unbearable that you can’t hold it anymore, you confronted her for the issue. To say that you were surprised, you weren’t entirely surprised. You were more disappointed than surprised. You don’t understand why.

“I guess I wasn’t careful. I don’t care for what if someone saw me because like I said, I thought I should take a break from you and back to my life before I met you.”

“Probably she was one of the women I danced with or I kissed-” he grimaces again. “I don’t know. I was ready to come home to you and make up for what I did.”

Silence falls between both of you again, unsure of what to say. It’s too much to absorb; at least to you. You have a lot to ask him but they disappear the moment Yugyeom shows you the whole picture. Now that you heard his explanation, your brain starts working more questions but unrelated to previous questions.

What now? What do you do? You heard his confession, you resolved your frustration. It turns out Yugyeom was a big idiot and it costs your relationship to make him realise that life isn’t all simple.

Your eyes dart to the man before you, hesitating to ask the real question. You know how much he broke you. You weren’t ready to hear that he moved on, but you wanted to know if you were to make a stupid move, you need to know what he feels about you.

“Do you…” you trail off, unsure how to put it. Yugyeom’s attention perks at your halt, watching you slowly shifting into panic mode. “Have you ever once..”

“Love me?” you feel small, you feel rejected. You always feel that when you’re with Yugyeom, you know how insecure you were when it comes to him. His view meant a lot to you and you guess after years, you haven’t changed. You still seek for his validation and that’s when you realise you have very little self-confidence.

Instead of scoffing like how you thought, Yugyeom offers a sweet smile, his eyes however, don’t shine as sweet as his smile. “I do, y/n.”

“I never stopped loving you, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He stops at that, making you wonder what’s wrong. He never stopped loving you. So? No continuation?

He laughs, leaning back to sip his chocolate drink. “I can hear your thoughts, y/n. I know you’re overthinking and you are irritated.”

“I never stopped loving you. But I don’t know if I’m worth your love again.”

“I have done a lot of damage to you, one of which is destroying your future without properly explaining what happened. I saw your shoulder slumped and I never saw that smile again.”

He grins, however it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I think I shall no longer exist in your life, y/n.”

You almost wanted to argue but he stops you with his next sentence. “I don’t want me to influence your life. You’re beautiful, y/n. You’re beautiful and you’re a confident woman once upon a time ago. That’s why I was attracted to you before. However dating me changed you into an insecure woman; I am sorry about that.”

“I don’t want you to consider accepting me again because you love me. No, I don’t want you to do that. I need you to remember that this man has broken you once and probably will break you again in the future. I want you to build yourself again, no not for me but for you. For your own sake. I know you always seek my validation which I enjoyed when we dated but I realised it has degraded your worth.”

Sincerity keeps pouring out of him and you feel your eyes become teary, then the next second you feel them running down your cheeks. “You are worth much more than my validation. You don’t need my validation nor me. You need yourself, you need to love yourself for you to be able to build yourself stronger.”

“Please don’t cry,” Yugyeom’s hand moves to hold yours, only to retreat back to his side. “I love you, y/n. Please remember that. But I can’t let myself stop you from finding yourself back. I don’t want you to be my slave because you love me. You need to build yourself again. I don’t want to be a distraction to you.”

“But I want you back in my life.” you choke on a sob, excruciating pain shoots through you. Yes you’re being dumb because he is right, you need to find yourself. You lost yourself right when you dated Yugyeom so you do need to rebuild yourself. However, losing Yugyeom for the second time, you don’t know if you’re ready for that.

For once he reached over to hold your hand in his, covering your tiny fist with his huge palm. “One day, y/n. If fate wants us to stay together, we’ll stay together. I’ll make myself worthy of your love again.”

“Just not now, sweetheart.” your eyes shut tight, releasing more and more tears. He’s right. He’s right and you hate how right he sounds. “I’ll wait patiently for you. I’ll wait for you to mend yourself, I’ll wait for you to accept me back.”

“But when?” you’re not going to give up. You want assurance, you want to know that Yugyeom will be there when you succeed in finding yourself.

“Soon, sweetheart. When you are ready, when your heart is ready. When fate is ready, I’ll be there to prove my worth.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Soon, is an indefinite promise. Soon changes from weeks to months, months to years.

You stopped counting days after the sixth month, seeing you gained no difference in yourself, only looking forward to running into Yugyeom’s arms back again. You lied to yourself, saying you’ll find yourself when you’re with him. For months, you lied, desperately holding to that promise Yugyeom did during your last meeting. You assured yourself that you’ll change and he’ll come back sooner than you think.

On one random day, the string inside you snapped and suddenly everything hit you that Yugyeom was saying goodbye to you, he was ready to leave you. You cried for hours, angry and mad at how he played you. He coaxed you into believing that he’ll take you back when you change but deep down he knew that you won’t change. He knew that you will stubbornly lie to yourself because that’s how you did two years back. That’s how you lived after he walked out of your life, lying to yourself since that’s what you know the best.

Eight months and you saw a pattern changed in your lifestyle. You started sleeping early, giving your body enough sleep for the day. You started eating breakfast, something you’ve considered a few times but you always wake up late and rush to work. You started going out for a walk in the evening, tired of being trapped in the same apartment.

Walking alone was so cold, so boring and reminded you of old times. On impulse you detoured to a shelter one day, adopting a dog.

She is a small golden retriever, around 3 months old, active and very clingy. Adopting her helps you relax, focusing every single problem only on her, no other things. She, after weeks living with you, is finally called Chestnut. You laugh at yourself after you named her, so much for the originality.

Living with Chessy is everything you’ve needed. She helps you discipline, soon you fall into a routine that you yourself didn’t realise. Chessy is easy to take care, though quite fussy and picky with people. She doesn’t particularly like strangers and only warming up to people she’s chosen to warm up to, which is now, only three people. You, your mom and your dad. You never take it as a problem since you don’t really associate with other people anyways. Chessy’s behaviour also helps you at times where you want your co-workers out of your sight, she will bark at them immediately to chase them away.

Chessy becomes a part of you, someone who makes you look forward to coming home.

Soon has turned into three years, you changed into a more independent woman, leaving your old self behind. In the span of three years, you resigned, leaving your toxic coworkers and friends to a new workplace. You enjoy yourself, surrounded with a new and positive environment. Your current boss is everything you wanted, keep giving his employees chances to grow and soar high.

You, driven by the new environment, escalated your self esteem pretty quick, making you braver and stronger day by day. Your colleagues help in building your confidence, always there to guide you to be better. In short, you feel your life falling into the right places.

Perhaps this was what Yugyeom said.

Finding yourself is the best thing you’d ever achieve in your life. You never feel so happy than right now, where you feel that you can breathe easily without something weighing you down. Perhaps this was what Yugyeom wanted you to feel, before finding him again. This new version of you is unbreakable, built with much self-love and respect.

This version of you indeed, feels alive.

Fifth year and you’re living as a completely new person, someone easy-going and social. You’re still you, but a better version. Your fashion changes, your lifestyle changes and your mindset changes. You believe that everything happens for a reason, that you probably know what it is sooner or later. You believe that every decision and every step you take, you must be held accountable. You should not regret and dwell on that decision if it turns out wrong, but you’ll improve yourself to be better. And that includes making a wise decision.

You never have to ask for someone’s validation anymore. Your work, your decision, your mind. What you plan is what you’ll do. You’ve changed your working style and you have to admit, it is easier right now. You’re confident and always ready, it lessens the stress in you.

You never thought you’d arrive at this point.

Yugyeom was right.

After years being mad at him for standing you up, you finally agree that what he did was right.

It will be impossible for you to be at this point if he’s by your side, clouding your every decision. You’ll fall into the same routine again, you will never get to build yourself and act as your own person.

Sky decides that it’s a perfect time to cry and here you are, sitting with Chessy in your lap, nuzzling into your warmth. Your new apartment gives you a window with a ledge, a perfect place for you when you need your thoughts to run wild. You always use it to your fullest, especially on rainy days where you stay indoor, enjoying the warmth of your apartment.

Running your hand through her fur, you wonder.

‘Where are you at, Yugyeom-ah?’

The smell of coffee has always made you calm. You don’t know why but there are two smells that calm you. Coffee and Yugyeom. You smile, shaking your thoughts away as the cashier hands you your change. Your attention shifts to Chessy, who’s waiting outside of the coffee shop since she can’t come in. You’re on your usual evening walk with Chessy, a routine you won’t miss whenever weekend comes. Chessy enjoys a walk and so do you.

When your buzzer vibrates, you quickly get your coffee and that’s when your attention falls again on Chessy, sniffing a stranger’s hand outside the shop. Your heart thumps at the possibility that the person would kidnap Chessy; not that it would be possible since Chessy can bark really loud but you can’t be so sure, so you quicken your step outside, only to see Chessy shaking hands with a man in a checkered shirt.

“Chessy!” instantaneously, you exclaim, wondering how weird Chessy is, being kind to strangers.

Both your dog and the man jolt in surprise, you realise how he stiffens after you call out Chessy’s name. His outline seems familiar, a rush of cold air passes and you’re stunned at how easily your mind can recognise him.

The broad shoulders, the baseball cap, the checkered shirt, the worn-out jeans.

The scent.

“Chessy.” he repeats, cooing and patting your dog. “A sweet name for a cute dog like you, right sweetheart?”

“Your mom must be good at picking names.” he smiles, standing up from Chessy to face you.

“Yugyeom.” Just like that, memories from five years ago hit you, playing scenes after scenes in your head.

“Y/n.” he breathes out your name and your heart skips a beat, knowing how much you miss him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know she’s your dog. She’s so cute, obediently waiting outside the shop so I wanted to greet her.”

He grins at Chessy, who’s now by your side, wagging her tail happily.

You’re still stunned but you shall not show that you are, so you swallow your overwhelmness to respond.

“It’s okay. She likes you.”

His face lightens up, darting his eyes to Chessy. “Really? You like me?”

His whole behaviour screams your old Yugyeom but deep down you know, he’s not yours. You are still overwhelmed to meet him but as he said, fate will decide on it. You don’t search for him and you think he doesn’t search for you too. You think that’s just how fate wants you to meet. You have a lot to ask him.

How have you been? Did you do well? Do you know that I moved? Did you know that I changed my workplace? Have you been healthy?

All that stuff. You just want to catch a conversation, to be updated about him.

Your cheeks lift up, stretching a smile on your face. However it lasts shortly before you remember that he’s not supposed to touch Chessy.

“Wait. You shook hands with her just now?”

“Yes? Why?”

“You’re not supposed to!” you fuss, panicking. “You have allergies, remember? Oh my god why would you touch her?”

At that Yugyeom laughs. He laughs and your entire body stops functioning. It’s been too long since you heard him laughing and you want to capture his laugh in your mind in case fate decides that you shall no longer cross path after this.

“Why are you laughing?” you’re breathless but you are still worried. Why would he laugh? This is a serious situation. Yugyeom’s allergies hit quite hard before and he could be bedridden if he didn’t take his meds quickly.

“I’m okay with her fur. I am allergic but only to a certain type of fur.” he bends down to pat her again, before giving you an apologetic smile. “I need to go.”

“Oh.” you don’t intend your gasp to be that obvious but probably you wanted him to stay longer. It’s too short for five years. “I’m sorry for taking your time.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, y/n. I’m glad I met you.”

“Perhaps we can catch up again.”

“How?”

He starts walking backward, eyes promising another meeting. “Like how today happens.”

Funny how five years you’ve been in the neighbourhood, you had never once met Yugyeom, coincidentally or accidentally. Probably you’ve been busy with work, with the newest project that kept you at work even on weekends. However since it was submitted last week, you have some free time to yourself and are able to take a walk during the weekend.

And then you met Yugyeom again the next two weeks.

He was out for a jog and you were on your routine, bringing Chessy for a walk. Days passed and you felt your schedules synchronised, every time you’re out for a walk, he’s out for a jog too. It feels too real to be true that you start making all sorts of assumptions in your head.

“I think you’re stalking me.” was the first thing you said to Yugyeom after you met him for the fourth time. “It’s impossible that I met you every time I am out with Chessy!”

He laughed as you kept accusing him for stalking you, before replying “Maybe I’m just interested in Chessy. Right, sweetheart?”

Chessy barked happily, siding with Yugyeom even more.

Fourth becomes fifth, and fifth becomes tenth.

You decided that you don’t have an issue with your schedules synchronised so you start adjusting to the change, to the extent of having coffee with him after your walk.

“I think it’s just useless if I were to have chocolate every time after I went for a jog.” Yugyeom sips on his drink, almost spluttering his chocolate drink when he meets your judging eyes. He cracks up as you try not to stab him with your straw.

“Is it my fault then? I never forced you to drink with me!”

“You did.” he points out. “You asked me ‘do you want to have some drink?’”

“I asked if you want to, not that you are obligated too.” you roll your eyes, sipping your own coffee. “Chessy, your admirer is so annoying.”

Yugyeom chuckles, setting down his drink on the table. “You don’t force me. I just want to.”

That statement skips your heart a beat, however you did not press on it. You let it flow, savoring your friendship. You decide that it is the best if you stay as friends first, there is no need to get into a relationship where both of you might screw up again. You need to build a strong foundation first, before taking the responsibility.

Your weekend meetings continue, both of you start updating on your life. You with your work and Yugyeom about the guys and his life. It becomes a routine between you two, now you are sure that your schedules aren’t synchronised, it is more to you actually serving an empty slot just for him.

Like he does for you.

After months, you meet his friend circle again, just him inviting you to their gathering. You never thought that you’ll miss them; well you don’t have time to think about them before. You never thought you’d feel complete when you saw Jaebeom and Bambam bicker or Jackson and Jinyoung dissing each other. You just feel like a misplaced puzzle inside you finally fits, finally relocates and completes.

“What are you thinking?” Yugyeom asks as he walks you home from the gathering. You choose to walk rather than drive, just in case they decide to drink so you’ll take a cab home. But Yugyeom offers to walk with you, Bambam taking his car home instead.

“Us.”

He stops in his tracks, watching you still walking forward. You know that he’s afraid of mentioning it first. You saw his curious eyes and you can’t blame him for not bringing this up. He still fears that he’ll make the same mistake and will break you again.

So you turn around, smiling as bright as you can, determined to make him see that you are ready.

“Are you sure, y/n?” he licks his lip nervously. “I can wait. I don’t want you to feel burdened. If you don’t want me then I’m good with it.”

“Yugyeom.” you reach to hold his hands, gripping it tight. “I am sure with my decision.”

“I’ve thought of it over and over again and if I want someone else I should already have them now. But I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

“But what if,” his voice falters, fear starts clouding his mind. “What if I hurt you again? What if I make a mistake again?”

His voice comes out like a squeak, like he’s too vulnerable and scared.

“Gyeom-ah.” you call him, still caressing his hand. “We can make this right. We’ll talk about what is working and what’s not. We need to be honest to each other.”

“We’ll be rational and sort things out. We will, Yugyeom. We will.”

“We will?”

You nod, etching a smile. “We will.”

Winter has never been warmer than that night. Yugyeom finds you in his arms again, stronger and unbreakable. He’s relieved, though worried what the future has for both of you.

For now he’ll focus on you, the one that fills his empty space.

[ Writings ]

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