#i read this fic a year ago and it is still occupying my mind

[thrumugnyr]

Based on Memento Mori by @northern-polaris

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[edenesth]

TWTHH Bonus: Star of the Show

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: In case you haven't already read Honeymoon Avenue (the first bonus chapter), it's probably better to check that out before reading this. Also, please be warned that this contains a slight spoiler to Wooyoung and Hongjoong's spinoffs.

Honeymoon Avenue | Fic Masterlist

"Your wife is with child."

The words echoed in the general's mind long after Yunho had uttered them. You remained unconscious in his room, undergoing a more thorough examination. Seonghwa had been asked to leave while you were attended to. He felt a wave of relief knowing that, according to the physician, your fainting spell was simply your body's way of compensating for the exhaustion caused by the demands of the little one growing inside you.

"Don't worry, everything will be okay."

"I'm counting on you, Yunho," he recalled telling the doctor before exiting his private quarters, his gaze lingering on your still, pale figure nestled under the covers.

"When have I ever let you down, my lord? She'll be fine, the baby will be fine; your family, they'll be just fine."

Realising there was no use lingering outside while the physician and his team of servants were busy examining you—his presence wouldn't change anything—he decided to occupy himself elsewhere while he waited. However, returning to his study seemed impossible; he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

As if with a mind of its own, his feet carried him toward the House of Lotus. His heart warmed at the familiar sight of the pavilion facing the lotus pond, your favourite spot, once empty but now furnished with a small table, cosy cushioned seats, and decorative lanterns. It was a testament to the time you two spent together there. He could never tire of being there with you, and the mere thought of spending eternity like that was more than enough to fill his heart with joy.

Soon, it wouldn't just be us two.

Deciding not to sit alone without you, he opted to enter your quarters instead, where every corner held a piece of you. He softened as he opened the door and spotted your embroidery kit at the centre of the room. You had been deeply invested in the craft ever since Hongjoong had taught you a few techniques, dedicating nearly all your time to it when you weren't occupied with anything else. He remembered finding you diligently working on it late into the night and had to gently coax you to bed with him.

Approaching the items, he settled into your usual spot before going through the designs you had created. A chuckle escaped him as he took in some of your earlier, more clumsy works—clearly, these were from when you first began learning from the dressmaker. As he continued, a smile graced his lips at the gradual improvement in quality. It hinted at the possibility that you had discovered a hidden talent; his friend would surely be proud to see your progress.

However, his movements faltered as he reached the bottom of the pile and discovered what appeared to be a... baby shirt. Realisation dawned on him: had this been your secret project all along? Were you aware of your pregnancy all this time?

Questions flooded his mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't you told him? Why had you lied and pretended everything was fine when you must have been feeling so sick? Did you not trust him enough to confide in him?

His heart ached with the thought that you might have felt the need to hide something so important from him. It left him feeling a mix of confusion, hurt, and a tinge of betrayal. Had he not made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what?

As he sat there, staring at the tiny garment in his hands, he couldn't help but wonder what reasons you could have had for keeping this from him. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more heartbreaking than the last. He thought back to all the times you had been showing symptoms of pregnancy, and it hurt him to know you didn't feel safe enough to tell him the truth. Was it because you didn't think he would be a good father? What if, deep down, there was a part of you that was still afraid of him? What if—

Before his thoughts could further linger, a knock on the door snapped him out of his train of thought. Turning to see who it was, he allowed entry and found Eunsook standing there with a smile on her face, "The mistress is awake, master," she announced. With that, all his previous worries were momentarily swept from his mind. Only you mattered as he quickly rose from his seat and dashed towards his room to see you.

Rushing into the room, Seonghwa's heart raced as he laid eyes on you, sitting up on his bed with Yunho standing beside you. Relief flooded him as he saw you speaking softly with the physician, a gentle hand pressed against your stomach.

Oh thank god, she's alright... they're alright.

Moving closer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. Despite the recent scare, you looked calm and serene, your presence soothing his worried mind. He approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt your conversation with Yunho but eager to be by your side.

As soon as your eyes met, he noticed the hint of moisture gathering in your gaze as you uttered his name, "Hwa..." His heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, and he quickly moved forward, settling beside you on the bed. Gently, he grasped your hand, brushing strands of hair away from your face and stroking your cheek, "What's wrong, my love? Are you feeling alright?"

You nodded, leaning into his touch and motioning for Yunho to speak on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, the physician began, "Her condition is currently stable, my lord."

Seonghwa furrowed his brow in dread, "I'm sensing a 'but' there."

"But..." the doctor continued, "Due to years of severe malnutrition throughout the lady's childhood, her body lacks many essential nutrients necessary for both her and the baby. This explains her weakness. But fear not, I will do everything in my power to ensure her full recovery. Once we pass the three-month mark safely, the remainder of the pregnancy should proceed smoothly."

"I... I understand. Thank you again, Yunho, for your hard work. It seems we'll need your frequent visits for the next few months," the general acknowledged, offering a grateful nod to his friend.

"No problem, my lord and lady. I'll ensure Eunsook receives all the necessary information for the mistress' care. Please excuse me, I should get started on the preparations immediately."

Once Yunho had left and you were alone together, your husband turned his attention back to you. Squeezing your hand gently, he couldn't shake the image of the baby shirt from his mind. He knew he had to address it. Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss on your forehead before delicately broaching the subject, "I... I have a question."

You responded in a soft voice, returning the squeeze of his hand, "What is it, Hwa?"

"My love, have you been aware that you were pregnant all along?"

As your gaze met his, he rested his forehead against yours, seeking to reassure you, "It's just... I was going through your embroideries earlier and I saw it—the baby shirt."

You let out a soft sigh, nodding, "Yes, I... I had a feeling, and I've been preparing myself to tell you about it, Hwa. But I just didn't know how to say it. I was scared of your reaction." When he attempted to pull away, you reached out, cupping his face to keep him close, "Listen to me, I'm not afraid of you. I... I know you've never had a proper family growing up—both of us, actually—and... I can't help but wonder if you might hate the idea of starting one."

His heart swelled with understanding, realising he had momentarily let his earlier insecurities get the best of him. Of course, you were simply concerned about him. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips before murmuring tenderly, "With another person, I would hate the idea. But with you, my love, I want it all."

Feeling touched by his words, you realised you had never needed to overthink the situation. You should have known that his love and acceptance were unwavering.

Perhaps you had just been overwhelmed by the idea of a tiny life growing inside you—a product of your love with Seonghwa. The thought of having a baby, your baby, filled you with joy and apprehension. Neither of you had experienced a conventional family upbringing, and you feared whether you could provide the love and care this child deserved. Since the first moment you felt sick and figured you might be pregnant, endless questions floated around your mind.

Were you ready?

Was he ready?

What if he didn't want children?

But now, those fears seemed unfounded. As tears welled in your eyes, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and buried your face against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. He held you close, peppering kisses all over your head, his love and warmth enveloping you. Through your tears, you whispered, "I love you, Hwa."

You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned his head against yours, his voice soft and reassuring, "I love you more, my wife, and that'll never change."

In the days that followed, you found yourself hardly ever alone. Your husband seemed determined to stay by your side every moment, as if he hadn't already been doing so since he dismissed all his friends. Now, he was even more attentive and vigilant, always ensuring he was nearby to keep watch over you. And whenever he needed to retreat to his study for brief meetings with Jongho, Eunsook remained faithfully by your side.

Today was another one of those days when he had no choice but to attend to some work. He hadn't been attending the daily assemblies for a while, so the least he could do was go through some reports to stay updated on the latest happenings in court.

Meanwhile, the head maid remained by your side in your room. You sat with a cookbook in your hand, diligently trying to learn new recipes. As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and although you already had a hold on Seonghwa's heart, you were determined to work even harder to keep it safe with you.

"You've been quite busy lately, mistress, with cooking and embroidering. I think the master might be getting a bit jealous that you're not as focused on him as you are on these tasks," she joked, gently brushing your hair as she observed your focused expression.

With a playful giggle, you shot her a glance, "Is he really? Well, everything I do, I do it to be a better wife for him and a better mother to this little one," you said, smiling down at your growing bump.

Eunsook's expression softened, "I'm just kidding. I'm sure the master knows that," she reassured before pausing, "Mistress, have you both thought about baby names yet?"

At that, your eyes widened, and you set down the book in your hands, "Oh dear, we haven't. I've been so invested in everything else, it seems I might have overlooked the most important thing."

She chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, "Don't worry, you still have plenty of time until the little one is born. Perhaps you and the master could start thinking about it now."

Later that night, as you lay in bed next to your husband, the words of the head maid lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyelids, you found yourself unable to sleep as your thoughts drifted towards potential names for the future baby Park. Each name you considered brought with it a flood of emotions and images of what your child might look like, how they would grow, and the kind of person they would become.

Sensing your slight movements, Seonghwa kissed your head softly, his voice gentle, "Are you still awake, my love?"

You grinned sheepishly, patting his chest, "I'm fine, Hwa. You go ahead and sleep. You must be tired."

But he sighed, gently sitting up with you still in his arms, ensuring the comforter covered you, "Not as tired as you. You're carrying a little person. Now, do you want to tell me why you're still not sleeping?"

Smiling shyly, you met his gaze, "I was talking to Eunsook earlier and realised... we haven't thought of any baby names."

His mouth formed an 'O' in realisation, mirroring your surprise. It seemed he, too, had not given it much thought. Nodding slowly, he whispered, "That's right, we haven't," pulling you closer to him, he relished the way your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, "So, what do you have in mind then? Have you managed to come up with anything with all that thinking, hm?"

You replied, nervously nibbling on your lip, "Actually, I have thought of a name. If it's a girl, Yeonjoo feels right."

He hummed, considering deeply, "Yeonjoo... like a lotus princess?"

You beamed, "Exactly. She'd be our little princess, growing up in the House of Lotus."

His heart swelled; your choice held significance. It wasn't just a random pretty name; it carried depth. Planting a kiss on your cheek, he smiled, "It's perfect. So, if it's a girl, Yeonjoo it is."

You cheered, "Okay, any ideas for a boy?"

He hesitated, then brightened, "You know what? I do have one in mind, though it might not be as thoughtful as yours. How about Jiyeong? It means a wise and brave hero, and it could also symbolise a flower petal, like the lotus. It'd be wonderful if he grew up to be intelligent and brave enough to protect his eomma," he murmured, gently placing his hand on your bump and stroking it.

"I think Jiyeong is a wonderful choice, Hwa, if it's a boy," you whispered, a sense of relief washing over you now that you finally had names for your child.

Covering his hand on your stomach with yours, you looked up at him with slightly wet eyes, "Gosh, can you believe we're going to be parents in a few months?"

"It's surreal sometimes, my love. And I'll admit, I am a little scared. But I know we'll manage. It won't be easy, but as long as we face it together, we'll be fine."

Yes, I know we will.

The first three months seemed to pass in a whirlwind, with Yunho's weekly visits becoming a familiar routine. Each time, he checked on your condition and brought herbs to boost your health and stabilise the pregnancy, ensuring everything progressed smoothly. Amidst this, life outside your little family continued to unfold.

You recall a particular evening when Wooyoung rushed in, desperate for your husband's aid to rescue a certain Miss Han. In a matter of weeks, she became a temporary resident in your household while still courting the private investigator. Her presence was delightful as she eagerly assisted you in cooking and embroidering, all while awaiting Wooyoung's eventual proposal that would take her away.

And through him, you learned of Hongjoong's latest job, assisting the youngest miss of the Baek family. It appeared to affect the dressmaker unexpectedly, stirring emotions no one had anticipated, especially him, even requiring a little nudge from both Seonghwa and Wooyoung to realise his feelings.

Before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the dining hall, surrounded by your husband's friends. Giving your hand a squeeze, Seonghwa cleared his throat to grab their attention, "Guys," he began, "we've gathered you all here today because we have an announcement to make."

Hongjoong, arms crossed, chimed in, "Pssh, I had a feeling. I knew you wouldn't be treating us to a meal for no reason."

Yunho's knowing grin widened, excited to see the dressmaker's reaction while Wooyoung leaned forward excitedly in his seat, nudging San beside him, who smiled back but inwardly wished the investigator would leave him alone. Mingi promptly set down his wine glass, eager to hear what was to come.

"I hope you're all excited because you're going to be uncles soon," the general announced, prompting cheers from everyone at the table.

The lovely Miss Han, seated beside you, wasted no time in giving you a side hug, though she had already been privy to your little secret. She had even been considerate enough to keep her man in the dark about it.

Wooyoung joined in the celebration, clapping enthusiastically, oblivious that his other half had been aware the whole time, "I knew it! I could tell she was pregnant from my first visit all those months ago. You've been so oddly careful with her ever since!"

At that, Hongjoong's expression darkened, "What do you mean, all those months ago? How far along are you, my lady?"

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, "Three months."

The dressmaker's jaw dropped in disbelief, "You didn't think to tell us until now? Park Seonghwa, what kind of friend are you?"

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes, "See, that's why you're an idiot. What does Miss Baek even see in you, I'll never know. Obviously, they wanted to wait until her condition was stable before telling everyone. Why do you think I've been so busy for the past few months?"

Hongjoong shot him a glare, "Oh, I don't know? Maybe because you've been trying to spend all your time with a certain Miss Ryu?"

The physician sputtered in shock, but before the argument could escalate, Jongho appeared behind them, smacking both on the back, "That's enough, you two. Please continue this another time."

Your husband interjected, shooting the assistant a grateful smile, "That's right. As Yunho mentioned, we just wanted to wait until it was safe before telling you guys."

San and Mingi softened, offering heartfelt congratulations to you and Seonghwa, prompting the rest of the guys to do the same. However, the peace was short-lived. Wooyoung eagerly raised his hand, "Ooh, can I please be the godfather?"

The dressmaker was quick to object, "Excuse me? If anyone here is to be the godfather, it's obviously me! Know your place, you fool."

"Oh, dear god, here we go again," your husband muttered beside you.

You couldn't help but grin at their endless shenanigans, glancing down at your stomach and rubbing it affectionately. You already knew this baby would be spoiled rotten even before entering the world. It seemed this little one was already the star of the show.

I contemplated how much of the pregnancy I should cover, but I think I'll only do this much for now! Because any further than this, and that might spoil some of the other members' spinoffs. I shall focus on finishing up all the rest of the stories after this, and who knows? There could be more bonus chapters in the future, we'll see~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/6): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡

@huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo |

@sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @skzline |

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@atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii |

@ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo |

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@idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot @yuyubun

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[harringtonstilinski]

...Ready For It? (Eddie's Version) - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 8,372 Warnings: fluff, shy/innocent/virgin!henderson!reader, multiple uses of the word chuckle Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @fandom-princess-forevermore!! Smut: no | yes; protected p in v, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, A/N: Hi, friends! Just like with my first Steve fic (what seems like forever ago), my first Eddie Munson fic is a smut piece!! Even though Eddie's still in high school when this is based, he and reader are roughly the same age; around their early 20s. Vecna isn't in this because fuck that piece of shit, lol. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

Eddie fucking Munson. The boy you’ve had your eye on since you first noticed him in the library during study hall your freshman year. Now that Dustin, your little brother, is in Hellfire Club with him, your crush on him grew.

You were currently with Dustin and the Hellfire Club at their latest meeting, sitting in the corner of the room with a book in hand, minding your own business as you read the words on the pages, but as Eddie’s voice rang out, you looked up at him through your lashes, watching him speak to the group.

“The hooded cultists chant, hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna,” he said. “They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” He covered his left eye with right hand, his left arm behind his back.

The group exclaimed their protests as you looked on, confused. You never sat in on the campaigns, but Dustin had begged you to and said that you could bring your books to read, so you caved. 

You and Eddie locked eyes for a moment, a small smirk on his lips as he watched your cheeks flush the smallest amount before you cast your eyes back down to the pages of your book.

“Vecna’s dead!” Jeff exclaimed.

“He was killed by Kas,” Mike added.

“So it was thought, my friends,” Eddie said. “So it was thought.” Grabbing a playing piece, he stood up a little straighter and said, “But Vecna lives.” He placed the playing piece where he needed to on the board.

You looked up again as his voice captured your attention once more as he said, “You are scared. You’re tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists, or do you stand your ground and fight?” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “Come on.”

Dustin looked back at you with pleading eyes, but you shrugged your shoulders, looking back at your book when your brother turned back around to face the group, silent for a moment as he thought before he spoke up saying, “I say we fight.”

Deciding to speak up, you quietly said, “To the death,” while keeping your eyes on your book.

“To the death,” Dustin and Mike agreed.

“To the death,” Erica added, the entire group looking back at you as they chanted, “To the death!” 

Eddie, however, just looked at you with that smile of his as you shyly smiled and sunk more in the chair you were occupying, going back to your book. His laughter caused you to sneak a glance at him once more, that shy smile coming back to your features.

He sat back down, his smile bigger than ever as the group continued to chant, your brother yelling it out. A chuckle sounded from you as you went back to your book. 

Dice and gaming pieces hitting the board, protests and happy exclaims sounded as you flipped through the pages, immersed in the story you were reading about two lovers. You hadn’t realized that you were biting your bottom lip from the steamy scene you were reading when you looked at the Dungeon Master over the edge of your book as he laughed at something to do with the game.

“Time out! Time out!” Doug exclaimed before he, Gareth, Mike, Dustin, Erica, and Jeff gathered into a huddle to talk out what to do within the game. You couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“Guys, I hate to say, but we have got to flee,” Gareth said.

“I conquer,” Doug said.

“Did we just agree with Y/N to the death?” Erica asked.

“That wasn’t literal,” Gareth replied.

Jeff spoke up next, adding, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”

“You too?” Dustin asked. “He has 15 hit points left. Don’t be pussies.”

“Dustin!” you chastised.

“Pussies?” Gareth said.

“Gareth!” you chastised… again.

He looked at you, saying, “Really?” before turning back to the group, saying, “ ‘Cause we’re not delusional.”

“Delusional?” Erica said. “How about not cowards?”

You jumped as Eddie’s voice rang through your ears as he said, “Hey!” He looked at you as he was sitting on the balls of his feet in the chair, an apologetic look on his face before he turned to the group, saying, “If I may interrupt, gentlemen, Lady Applejack.” He moved to sit down with the group turning to look at him as he said, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?” 

He smiled and you felt something deep in your core as you looked at him, your bottom lip back between your teeth. You were thanking the Gods above that he couldn’t see the motion through your book.

Dustin held up a finger, saying, “One sec,” before turning back towards the group. “What do you think, Mike?”

“How many hit points do you and Applejack have left?” the Wheeler boy asked.

“Twelve,” Dustin and Erica replied.

“It’s risky as hell. But you’re the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.”

“What do you say, Lady Applejack?” Dustin asked.

“You really gotta ask?” Erica replied.

After a couple of seconds, Dustin said, “Screw it,” and the group turned back to Eddie, your brother saying, “Let’s kill the son of a bitch.”

As they stepped closer to the table, Jeff said, “The chances of success are 20-to-1.”

Holding a finger in the air, Dustin said, “Never tell me the odds,” to which you giggled at, your eyes never having left the words in front of you. “Give me the D20.” Dustin held his hand out, which caused you to look back up from the pages as Eddie smiled again and threw the die at your brother.

Dustin rolled the die and released it onto the board. You watched as Eddie stood to watch the die before saying with two headbangs, “That’s. A,” before shaking his head while saying, “Miss!”

“No!” came from everyone but Dustin, who exclaimed, “Shit! Shit!”

Laughing again, you pressed your forehead into the middle of your book, looking back up at the group as Dustin and Erica switched places. The youngest Sinclair rolled the die in her hands with Gareth and Dustin exclaiming a “please” and “come on” before tossing it onto the board, everyone watching with anticipation.

“Crit hit!” Erica shouted, the six of them jumping happily at their win.

Eddie stood up straight, saying, “What? What?” before clapping his hands once and bending over, a happy look on his face as he looked over towards you as he added, “That’s why we play.”

You didn’t know that was looking at you, you were too immersed in your book again to see or hear anything that was going on. What you also didn’t notice was the fact that you were lowering your book as you continued to read, your lip still in between your teeth as the characters in your book were getting it on.

As they started to pack up, you couldn’t help but picture yourself doing these steamy scenes with Eddie. Yes, you’d develop a little crush on him since you’d been bringing Dustin to Hellfire. He’d also dropped Dustin off at home sometimes, talking with your mom in the living room. He’s even been over for dinner a few times!

Those nights he’d stay to hang out after dinner, you’d be curled up on the couch next to him with a book, a decent amount of space in between the two of you to not make things awkward.

Eddie kept stealing glances at you that night, a crush of his own developing that night. When he kept smiling at himself while looking at you, he couldn’t help but think of having you leaning against him, a book in your hand as you read to him.

He also couldn’t help but think of all of the ways he could pleasure you, like the characters in your books. Once or twice, he’d sneak a glance at your pages, seeing what you were so immersed in. Eddie always knew that when you read those scenes, your lip would go in between your teeth. He always wondered what scenario you pictured or who you pictured while you read.

Eddie was brought from his thoughts when Dustin called your name, saying with a smile that it was time for you to go home. You put your bookmark in your book to keep your place before standing from the chair, your shirt having risen a little bit.

Eddie couldn’t help but look at the small bit of your exposed skin, a tingling sensation happening below his belt. Shaking his head from his thoughts, he took a deep breath and released it, grabbing his D&D book to shut it just as you were looking over at him.

You watched him for a second before saying to Dustin that you’d be at the car in a moment before he nodded and walked off with his friends, happy about the events that occurred during the game.

Walking to Eddie, you placed your hand on the table as his back was turned, picking up one of the pieces of the game. “What is this?” you asked, quietly. 

Even though he knew you were there, he still jumped as he turned to look at you. Placing a hand on his heart and the other on the table, he took in a deep breath as you lightly chuckled.

“Sorry,” you said.

Shaking his head, he said, “No, it’s fine.” He sighed, loudly, which made you chuckle again before he stood up straighter, looking at the piece in your hand. “That, uhm…” he started, bringing his hand to rub at his chin. A nervous tick you noticed he had. “That’s Vecna.”

You looked at the playing piece, an eyebrow cocked. “The… thing they were fighting tonight?”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Yeah. The thing they were fighting.” Looking at you, Eddie couldn’t help but smile the tiniest bit at you as you handed him the piece. 

“Uhm,” you started, feeling a small spark run through your hand as Eddie’s fingers grazed yours. “I-I think Dustin was going to see if you all could come and hang out at the house for a little while since it’s Spring Break now.”

“Y/N/N! Eddie!” Dustin called.

“Speak of the little devil,” you and Eddie said in unison. You looked at each other and started laughing. 

Ignoring the two of you, Dustin rolled his eyes and asked, “Hey, Eddie, did you want to come to the house and hang out for a little while? You could work on a new campaign!” You watched as his eyes lit up with that suggestion.

Sighing, Eddie scratched at his cheek, feigning thought as Dustin practically begged him to say yes, a chuckle coming from the other male with a nod. Your little brother almost jumped in excitement at his friend’s answer. 

After he had packed everything up, Eddie walked with you down the hallway, attempting to make small talk. “You’re not gonna, like, hide away in your room all night, are you?”

“Uhm,” you stuttered. “I-I’m not sure. You guys coming over is more for Dustin than anything.”

Eddie stopped walking as soon as the two of you made it outside, gently grabbing your elbow to make you stop and face him. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. Shaking his head, he said, “You don’t have to be shy around us. Especially me.”

You felt your breath hitch a little as he took a step closer to you, your head tilting back to look at him. As you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but want to kiss him, and you almost did until Dustin’s voice called for you, your head snapping his direction.

With a sigh, you pulled away from Eddie, looking at him shyly before starting the walk to your car. “I guess I’ll see you at my house?”

Nodding, Eddie replied with a yeah before scratching at the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when you saw Steve walking to his own car before you ran up to him, giving him a hug.

“How’s my favorite bookworm?” Steve asked, setting you back on the ground.

“I’m good, a little tired. How was the game?” you asked.

“It was awesome. We won!”

“What?!” you squealed, excitedly. With your hands on his shoulders, you jumped a little, saying, “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, Lucas made the winning shot,” Steve smiled, holding your waist. 

You looked around for the oldest Sinclair with a big smile on your face. “I need to go congratulate him!” Looking back at Steve, you hugged him again, bidding him a good night before you found Lucas, running to him and giving him a hug.

Lucas welcomed it, his eyes locking with Eddie’s, a knowing look on both of their faces. When the two of you pulled back, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, walking to your car with him. You always took him from Hellfire, so taking him home from the game shouldn’t feel any different, but he kindly declined, saying that he was going to the after party at Benny’s.

You told him to be safe before making your way to your car, getting into the front seat of the car but not before looking at Eddie with a small smile. Once you were on the road, you could feel three pairs of eyes on you. Jeff and Gareth in the backseat while your brother occupied the front. 

“You and Eddie almost kissed,” Dustin said, a smile on his face.

“What?” you chuckled. “No we didn’t.”

“Well, if that’s not almost kissing,” Gareth said.

“Then the stolen looks all night were just stolen looks then,” Jeff added.

You looked at them in the rearview mirror before looking at your brother, shaking your head. “Whatever, losers.” When you looked in your side mirror, you saw headlights gaining up on you, a small smile coming over your features as they slowed down. You could faintly hear a guitar solo sounding from Eddie’s van. 

A laugh came out from you as he stuck his hand out of his window, making the rock on symbol. The boys laughed along with you as you put your eyes back on the road. As the boys were talking about the night and what they plan on doing while hanging out in either Dustin’s room or the living room, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Not being able to stop yourself from letting your mind go there, you thought about your book and what the characters were doing. All the sex you had read about, the thoughts that ran through your mind about you and Eddie doing those things. 

You’d never have sex before; yes, you were a virgin. You were also shy; not wanting to change in front of anyone in the locker room when you were in school. When you were home alone, you wouldn’t even run across the hall to your bedroom to get dressed after your shower. And you were innocent, but not as innocent as some people might think. Since your books had a lot of sex in them, you knew about certain positions… but that’s all you really knew about. You’ve heard girls talk about giving a blowjob, but didn’t stick around enough to listen to their explanations.

Pulling into your driveway, you were pulled out of your thoughts as the boys cheered at the fact that your mom bought more chips the other day at the store. You made a mental note to pick more up when you went within the next couple of days.

After you had walked into the house, you did exactly what Eddie asked you about at the school. You went to hide in your room. Once you had your favorite record on, you took off the jacket you were wearing to drape over your vanity chair. 

Before you could get sucked back into your own little bookworld, your landline rang, a groan coming from your throat, which was the wrong time for Eddie to walk up to your door, his cock twitching a little at the sound, his mind immediately going into the gutter.

Picking up your phone, you said into the mouthpiece, “I swear to all that is good in this world, Steven-”

“It’s Max.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “Sorry, what’s up?”

“I need to you come by.”

Sitting up, concern started to flow through you as Dustin yelled your name before opening your door as you replied back to Max. “What happened?”

She sighed before she replied, “Mom went on a bender again. She ended up calling from some rando’s house.”

Before she even finished her statement, you were up and putting your shoes and jacket back on. “Don’t say another word. I’m on my way.” After she gave you her thanks, you hung up the phone, and turned around to walk out of your room but stopped once you saw the Hellfire Club looking at you with confused looks, concerned looks… worry.

You chuckled and shook your head. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t Steve.” Hearing a breath of relief, you looked up, locking eyes with Dustin. “Oh, don’t act like you wouldn’t leave the house to come with me if it was him.”

“Then who was it?” Dustin asked.

Looking at each boy before stopping on Eddie’s eyes, you sighed. “It was Max. Her mom went out and didn’t come home. She wants me to go over.” You grabbed your book before walking towards your door, placing your hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “I’ll be back later.” Looking at each boy again, you gave a stern look to each of them as you said, “Don’t. Go. Into. My. Room. Period.”

Eddie chuckled, gaining your attention. “I won’t go in because I’m taking you to Max’s.”

Now it was your turn to give him a confused look. “What are you talking about? You’re staying here to hang out with Dustin and your friends.”

“No, I’m taking you to Max’s house. I live across the way from her. I don’t mind.”

“Eddie,” you softly said, tilting your head towards your shoulder. 

“No, really. I don’t mind. Besides, if you're coming back then I have to come back.”

You sighed, giving in. “Okay. Let’s go then.” 

The boys parted like the Red Sea as you walked out of your room, Dustin shutting the door behind everyone. 

“Oh, Y/N/N,” your mom said. “Where are you going?”

Scratching between Tews’ ears, you answered your mom. “Going to check in on Max. She said her mom went out.” You only told your mom what information you wanted. “Eddie’s gonna take me over there, but I should be back later.”

“Okay, honey. Just be careful.”

“I will, Mom.” With that, you and Eddie walked out of your house after he bid your mom a good night. 

Once the two of you made it to his van, he opened the door for you, holding his hand out of you to take. “M’lady.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in yours before getting into the seat, giving your thanks. Knowing Eddie, you knew he probably didn’t turn his music down before he got out, so you leaned over the middle console, turning the volume dial to the left, knowing it had turned down a little.

When he got in, he put the key into the ignition and turned the key to crank the engine. He was already prepared to apologize, the words on his tongue, but he was cut off when the sound didn’t come through the speakers, his eyes on the radio.

You laughed out loud at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did. “I turned it down when you closed the door.”

“Without it being on?” he asked, incredulously.

Nodding, you smiled. “I do it all the time in my mom’s car after Dustin’s been in it. I think you’re influencing him a little with the loud music.”

While you were explaining all that, Eddie had backed out of your driveway, driving towards Forest Hills, the trailer park he and Max lived in. “I hope it’s a good kind of influence.”

You chuckled, looking down at the cover of your book. “Well, considering I also listen to metal music, I would say it’s a good influence.”

Eddie’s heart and cock swelled at hearing you say that. He knew that you listened to all the popular music on the radio, having heard and seen you jam out to Madonna a few good times. 

The both of you were comfortable in the silence that had surrounded you. Eddie didn’t want to ruin it, but his next words slipped out before he could stop them. “I’m glad you came tonight. I didn’t think you’d stay.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you say, honestly. “I was just gonna drop him off and have him catch a ride home from Steve, but he practically begged me to stay, so… there I sat all night. Nose stuck in this book.” You chuckled breathily, slightly holding up your book.

“What’s it about?” Eddie asked.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “My-my book?”

Keeping his eyes on the dark road, he nodded. “Yeah. I wanna know what has captured your attention.”

Taking a deep breath, you sunk a little lower into the seat, the action not going unnoticed by Eddie.

“You don't have to tell me. You can tell me to fuck off, for all I care.”

“I would never do that.” You were quiet for a moment before you quietly added, “I’m not a mean person.”

“Am I?”

You looked at him and sat up straighter. “What, mean?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

He sighed. “People like to think I’m mean and scary.”

“All because you play D&D?” you asked, an eyebrow cocked.

Stealing a glance your way, Eddie nodded his head, saying, “Yeah.”

That angered you. Eddie was one of the sweetest people you’ve had the pleasure of knowing. So, for people to call him scary and mean was downright… well, mean! You decided to voice your opinion on the matter. “Well… they’re just mean! And can fuck right off!”

Surprise flew Eddie at hearing you cuss. He smiled, and once again, his cock twitched in his pants, a bulge starting to appear, and he was thanking all the higher powers above that you couldn’t see it.

The two of you made small talk as he drove to his trailer, the sound of your laughter something that he was loving to hear from you. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. Once he parked in front of his trailer and got out, he walked over to your side, helping you out the same way he helped you in.

You walked over to Max’s house, knocking on the door. As you waited for the redhead to open the door, you looked back over at Eddie’s, seeing that he was standing on the small slab of concrete at his front door. Giving him a small smile, you looked back to Max’s door as it opened, the teenager looking at you with relief in her eyes.

She grabbed your arm and dragged you inside, shutting the door behind you. With her hands on your shoulders, she looked you deep in your eyes asking, “Two things. One; why are you with Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson? Two; I need relationship advice.”

“Okay, one; he’s not a freak. You’re reading way into what the popular kids are saying. Two; I thought you and Lucas were broken up?”

“We are,” she answered, completely disregarding the fact that you just defended Eddie. “But, a part of me still loves him. Like, I can’t stop thinking about him. I want to be with him, but at the same time I don’t want to be with him. I’m still fucked up from Billy’s death. Like - do you see my dilemma here?”

You chuckled, sitting down on the couch, placing your book on your lap. “Max, listen. If you still love Lucas and want to be with him, but you’re not totally sure if you want to be with him, just continue this little break you’re on. Hang out with him as friends first, and if your feelings are still there, then just talk to him about it. You can’t keep being radio silent on him forever. He’ll eventually move on if you do.”

She sat next to you as you spoke, thinking your words over. “Would you be mad if I said I called him right after you, and asked him to come over?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?”

“Eddie know you have a mouth on you?” she asked, a playful smile on her lips.

You started to stutter over your words, not sure how she knows about your crush. Sighing, you said, “Fucking hell, Dustin.”

“Can’t keep his mouth closed for shit,” she chuckled.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Looking over at Max, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her own joining yours. A knock interrupted your moment with the girl that was like a little sister to you, as well as El. Standing, you placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile and gentle squeeze. “Just talk to him.”

She nodded her head as another knock sounded, which caused you to sigh. “Alright, Sinclair. I’m coming.” Opening the door, you were met with a very confused Lucas. “I thought you were at Benny’s?”

He shook his head, pointing towards Max. “She called. Said she wanted to hang out.”

“Awwww,” you happily whined, putting a hand on your chest. “You ditched your asshole friends to hang out with your ex-girlfriend? Lucas Charles Sinclair-”

Holding his hands up, he scrunched his face and said, “Please don’t full name me. It sounds weird, and makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

Chuckling, you walked by Lucas, squeezing his upper arm. “Talk. And listen.”

He nodded as you walked down the steps that led up to Max’s trailer. Looking straight ahead, you sighed as you looked at Eddie’s trailer, deciding to walk over and knock on his door. You had to take a step down as you heard his footsteps. 

Opening the door, he smiled and held his arms out as if saying welcome. You chuckled and stepped into his trailer, turning to look towards Max’s, seeing her and Lucas watching you. Sticking your tongue out to them, you closed the door and turned to face Eddie.

He was standing in the middle of his living room, an amused smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, holding your book to your chest.

“Really? Sticking your tongue out? At two teenagers?”

“I’ve known them since they were pre-teens, it’s fine.” You waved him off and looked around, smiling a little to yourself. “I know this is probably a stupid ass question, but do you live here alone?”

Eddie chuckled, looking down. “No. I live here with my uncle. He’s working nights again.”

You nodded your head, looking around.

“I know it’s not fancy or anything–”

“It’s nice,” you whispered. You looked at him and he at you. It was like there was a magnet between the two of you, pulling you to each other. Nothing happened yet between the two of you, but you were both panting from anticipation. His hands on your face, yours on his waist.

“I just have two questions,” Eddie whispered. “Have you had your first kiss yet? Has anyone made you feel good?”

“Yes to the first,” you replied, breath hitting Eddie’s face. “No to the second.”

He pulled back a little. “You’re a virgin?”

You nodded, looking at him. “No one ever felt right.”

“And I do?”

“The rightest.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead on yours. “I don’t think that’s a word, babe.”

Closing your eyes, you smiled. “It is. Now, kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. As soon as his lips met yours, you were a goner. Arms snaking up his body to wrap around his neck while his slid down your body to wrap his arms around your waist before squatting ever so slightly to place his hands on the backs of your hips, you already knowing to jump.

Wrapping your legs around his middle, he turned and walked the two of you into his bedroom, your lips working in tandem with his steps on his neck. 

Eddie groaned as he placed your back on his mattress, your lips never stopping their assault as he breathed out, “Fuck, baby.”

It was your turn to groan as the telephone rang, Eddie’s forehead meeting your shoulder. “I should just ignore it,” he said.

“Yeah, maybe,” you breathed. You went to kiss him again when the phone rang again. 

He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” Looking at you, he smiled. “Don’t go anywhere.” Lifting himself from you, he walked out of his bedroom, giving you a chance to look around as you sat up on your elbows.

“Y/N/N,” Eddie said, walking back into his room. “It’s for you, too.”

You got up from his bed, confused before you walked over to where his phone was, picking it up from where Eddie had placed it. “Hello?” you sighed as you felt Eddie’s chest on your back, the neckline of your shirt being pulled from where it sat on your skin, Eddie’s lips meeting the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Cast protection!” Dustin exclaimed from the other end of the line.

“Wh-what?”

“Jesus, Y/N/N. Cast protection!”

Eddie started sucking where his lips were, a sigh falling from your lips. “Fuck off, Dustin,” you said before hanging up. Bringing your hand to rest on the back of Eddie’s head, you gasped as you felt his teeth sink into your skin. “Eddie!”

“Yes, princess?”

“Do more, please. Wait, what did you just call me?” You turned to face him, an amused smirk on his face. 

“I called you princess.”

“No one has ever called me that before. Where did-” Your words got stuck in your throat as your eyes widened. “You read my books.”

“Only the good parts.” Putting your face in your hands, you groaned, embarrassed. “Oh, my god. I’m mortified.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Did you know you bite your lip when you read those steamy” - Kiss to the top of your head. “Hot-” Hands on your face to lift your head up. “Erotic-” Kiss to your forehead. “Smutty-” Kiss to your cheek. “Fucking scenes?”

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, crashing your lips to his in a heated, passionate kiss. Eddie turned you both around to walk you backwards into his room, where your back met the mattress again after your shirt was stripped from your body.

Before he was able to crawl over you, you wrapped your hands on the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal his bare torso and tattoos to you. One of a spider and the other of a skullish looking head with red eyes and tongue, hair looking like it was blowing in the wind. You traced your fingers over the permanent ink. 

“You like ‘em?” Eddie asked, watching your eyes. When you nodded, he cupped your cheek with his left hand, your eyes landing back on his. “I have three more.”

“Really?” you breathed.

He smiled, softly, sitting on his knees in between your legs to guide you to sit up. “Right arm.”

You looked at his right forearm, seeing a demonized marionette doll connected by strings to what looked like a clawed hand. “Looks like a witch’s hand,” you whispered. Flipping his arm over, you smiled a little at seeing the bats you always saw. “Bats.”

Eddie twisted his arm a little to give you a view of his tricep. 

Confused, you asked. “What’s this one?”

“It’s a wyvern,” he said. “It’s a dragon with two legs. Part of D&D.”

Your smile returned as you look at him. “It suits you.” 

“Thanks, princess.” He kissed you, softly this time as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Feeling the material go slack against your chest, you pressed your arms to the cups, keeping the material in place. 

Eddie noticed your hesitation, bringing his hand back to cup your cheek. “Hey, look at me.” Once your eyes met his, he shook his head, his hair moving with the motion. “Please don’t hide from me. You have nothing to hide. No reason to be shy.”

“But you’re the fir-” You stopped yourself, your shyness peaking through.

“I’m the first to see your tits?” He was so quiet as he spoke, your head nodding ever so slightly. 

“Comes with being a virgin, I guess.”

“Then we’ll take things slow,” he said, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. 

All you saw in his eyes was honesty and respect when you looked into those chocolate orbs you were quickly falling in love with. “Thank you,” you smiled as you added, “Dungeon Master.”

Eddie laughed, hanging his head for a moment. That gave you the opportunity to let out a quiet breath and release your arms from your breasts, your bra falling into your lap. Once Eddie saw the material, he slowly looked up at you, his eyes on your chest for a moment. 

When he looked at you, he slowly laid you down onto your back, bringing his hand down from your cheek to your breast.

Your breath hitched as you watched him place a kiss on your areola. Closing your eyes to savor the moment, you drew out a gasp with your back arching a little as Eddie’s lips wrapped around your nipple, lightly sucking and licking the hardening bud.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, taking the bud back into his mouth.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. You could feel your core reacting to his tongue and lips. “Please keep going.”

Eddie snickered, pressing kisses to your breasts as he switched, taking your left bud into his mouth to give the same attention he gave to the right. 

“Fuck, your mouth is amazing,” you sighed.

He released your bud with a soft pop, bringing his face back up to yours, his hair falling on either side of his face to create a curtain or veil around the two of you, blocking out the world around you, even though it’s just the two of you in the trailer. “You haven’t felt what it can do yet,” he smirked.

You giggled as you watched him kiss down the valley of your breasts and stomach, stopping when he reached the top of your jeans, looking up at you as he unbuttoned and unzipped them, sitting up on his knees. This time, you saw his erection straining against his jeans. “Happy to see me, Eddie, or do you have a really big joint in your pocket?”

“Oh, little Eddie is very happy to see you, baby.”

Laughing, you lifted your hips off the mattress so that he could take your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop. Your nerves set in again, and Eddie could tell that you wanted to close your legs, so he quickly but gently put his hands on your knees to keep them from moving.

“Remember what I said, baby? You don’t have a reason to hide or be shy.”

His words put your nerves at ease as you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as he spread your knees apart, his eyes downcast to your glistening core. “Shit, baby,” he murmured as you scooted up the bed to give him room to lay down. Once your head hit his pillow, you tilted your head to get a good look at him. “All that for me?” 

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath as he laid on his mattress, arms wrapping under your thighs, his rings digging deliciously into your skin. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your left thigh. When he kissed your right, his eyes locked on yours as he turned his face towards where you wanted him most. “You ready, baby?”

Releasing a shaky breath, you nodded. “Yes.”

Looking down at your pussy, he pressed a light kiss to your clit, a small gasp sounding from you before you released a breathy chuckle. Once, twice, three more times he kissed your clit before lightly licking a stripe up from your entrance back to your clit.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned, hands gripping the sheets. 

“Think you can handle it a little rougher?” he asked before kitten licking your clit again.

“Y-yes, Eddie, fuck,” you breathed. You thought you heard him growl before sucked your clit in his mouth, licking it like it was an ice cream cone on a hot as shit summer day. “Oh, my god!” you moaned, loudly. 

He released your clit, continuing his licks as he circled your entrance with one of his fingers. “Have you ever fingered yourself?” he asked, sucking on your clit again. 

When you looked down at him, you grabbed the sides of his hair, pulling it away from your body, holding it in place at the crown of his head. He looked at you as you took one of your hands away, nodding. “Yes. You can… f-finger me, Eddie.”

Since you had a light hold on his hair to keep it out of his face, he was able to turn his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh as he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt. “How many?” he asked.

“Two,” you whined as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “Sometimes three. Just depends.”

“Think I’ll stick with two for now,” he said, rising to rest on his hand that was now flat against the mattress. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at almost too fast pace for you, but at the sight of slight discomfort on your face, he slowed his pace to a more perfect one; not too fast, not too slow… just right. “You like that, baby? That the right pace for you?”

You nodded, running your fingers through his hair that was dangling over his shoulder. “S’good!” Placing a hand on his neck, you brought his face closer to yours, pressing your lips on his after his hand moved from beside your waist to beside your head to better balance himself. You all but squealed when you felt his thumb on your clit, your release coming on fast. “Please don’t stop, You breathed. “I’m so close, Eddie. S’close.”

“You gonna cum all over my fingers, baby? Do it. Cum for me.” Eddie bent down the small distance to your breast, taking your nipple back into his mouth to help your release come a little fast.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you breathed, putting your hand on his forearm, lightly squeezing. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.” You took a deep breath, releasing it as you exclaimed his name. “E-Eddie!” 

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie cooed, watching as he slowed his hand to a slower pace to help ride out your high. Once he was sure you were calm, he released his fingers from your core, placing them in his mouth to lick himself clean. “Damn, you taste incredible.”

You immediately kissed his mouth, tongues tangling together as you tasted yourself on him. “Fuck, I do.”

“You’re dirty,” he chuckled. “I like it.”

“I’ll cum in your mouth next time,” you smiled.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” 

“Well, I hope so!”

He was quiet for a moment before you squealed as he all but rolled on top of you, careful not to dead weight you. “Damn, I’m a lucky Munson.”

“You’ll be even more lucky if you stuck your cock in me,” you smiled. Placing your hands on the waistband of his pants, you repeated his earlier motions in taking off your jeans and panties. “Jeans and boxers off.” Flashing him your pearly whites had him laughing lightly, getting off the bed to take off his jeans and boxers and to retrieve a condom. 

You moaned as you watch him pump himself a few times before opening the foil packet to grab the latex out to roll it onto his hardened cock. “Fuck, Eddie, that’s hot.”

He settled himself between your legs again, the both of you getting into a somewhat comfortable position. Gathering your wetness that was still leaking out of you, Eddie lined himself up to your entrance before looking up at you. “Before I slide in, I’ve gotta ask; are you absolutely sure about this?”

Without missing a beat, you said, “Yes,” while cupping his cheeks. 

He nodded, looking down once more before his eyes came back to yours. “Ready for it?”

Nodding, you took a deep breath, feeling the sting of Eddie’s cock entering for the very first time. You held your breath as you tapped his shoulders, Eddie stopping all movements.

“Breathe,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. 

“What’s in?” you whispered back.

“Just the head.”

“Fuck, it’s huge.”

Eddie looked at you, feeling bad that you were in pain before he tried pushing himself in a little more, watching as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye and down to your ear. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. Kissing the corner of your eye, he took a deep breath of his own. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “Try some more.”

He carefully and slowly pushed into you more, a shaky breath coming from your lips. “I’m s-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more goddamn time, Edward, I will have you pull out and I’ll be known as the half-virgin Henderson.”

He chuckled as you turned your head to look at him. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Kiss me.”

Not missing a beat, Eddie placed his lips on yours as your hands went to his waist and pulled, his cock pushing into you more until he was fully sheathed. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned. “You feel incredible. So fucking tight.”

“You did it, Eddie,” you whispered. He looked at you as you smiled. “You took my virginity.”

“You’re happy?”

Nodding, you sniffled lightly, bringing your hands from where they had fallen onto his shoulders back to cup his cheeks. “Because it’s you who took it. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone else.”

“Not even Harrington?”

“Steve?” You giggled. “Steve is just a friend. A really good friend. Since I met you, I’ve wanted you to be the one. And now look! We’re connected.”

With a cock brow, he lifted up a little. “Are you quoting your book?”

Looking around at the ceiling in thought, you thought about the words you’d read just almost an hour ago. “Oh, fuck!” Realization hit you like a bus. “Fuck. Ignore that. Come here.” You brought his lips back to yours, a heated kiss shared between you two. “Please move. I’m good now. Just needed time to adjust.” Your words were pretty much cut off as Eddie pulled his hips back and slowly pushed them forward. 

He did this a few times before you asked him to move a little faster. A light sheen of sweat started to coat your bodies as he moved faster and faster until he was slamming his hips against yours at the perfect pace.

When you announced that your release was coming again, his fingers met your clit, rubbing in circles until you were chanting his name like a prayer. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“That’s it, baby, cum for me again. I’m so close.”

Three more thrusts is all it took for the dam to break within you again, your second orgasm of the night hitting, your walls fluttering and tightening around Eddie’s cock, sending his own release into the condom. 

Once you both were calmed down, he gently pulled out, a hiss coming from him while an almost pained groan sounded from you. He kissed all over your core as an apology before saying it, dipping out of the room with a smile on his face as one of his pillows was thrown at his face by you.

When Eddie came into his room, he had a warm cloth in his hand, ready to help clean you up. “This is called–”

“Aftercare,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I may have been a virgin, but I wasn’t stupid. I’m still not!”

He chuckled before reaching down to grab his Hellfire shirt to hand to you, as well helping slide your panties back up your legs to sit comfortably on your waist. Once he had his boxers on, he laid in the bed beside you, bringing you to cuddle against his side.

It was silent between the two of you as you both laid there, thinking about the events that just transpired. With a smile on your face, you tilted your head back on his shoulder, bringing your arm to rest on his chest to play with his guitar pick necklace. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, fingers lightly running up and down your arm.

“Giving me the best night of my life.”

He looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re welcome, m’lady.”

For some reason, that pet name had you jolting upright in his bed, the word, “Shit,” escaping your mouth. Jumping from the bed, you grabbed your bra and put it on before finding your jeans and putting those on. Without a word, you tossed Eddie his clothes and a random shirt you found on the floor. “Get dressed.”

“Why?”

Stopping your movements, you looked at him as he put his jeans back on. “You have to take me back home. Remember? I told Dustin and my mom I’d be back!”

That seemed to get his ass into gear because within the next few seconds, he had written a note to his Uncle Wayne and was out the door and driving down the road to your house in a comfortable silence.

What made you smile was the fact that Eddie’s hand never left your thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth, even with your fingers laced with his. It put a smile on your face that you never wanted to leave.

Once he parked in your driveway, you didn’t move. When he tried to remove his hand from your thigh, you tightened your grip on his hand. He looked at you, the smallest of worry laced in his eyes.

“We should talk,” you said, a small smile on your face. “About us. Like, what we are.”

Eddie leaned closer to you, his head tilted a little in your direction. “Well, how about I call you my girlfriend, you call me your boyfriend, and we’ll call it even?”

Giggling, you looked dead in his eyes, your smile never faltering as you replied, “I like the sound of that.”

Walking into your house, the Club met you in the living room, a smile on their faces, cheers all around as they noticed your fingers laced together.

“It’s about time,” Gareth exclaimed.

“Congrats, man!” Jeff said, clapping Eddie’s back.

You looked at Dustin, who had a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. Sitting next to him, you placed your arm around his shoulders. “What’s up, kid?”

He looked at you, eyebrows up in worry. “You and Eddie? Really?”

“Yeah?”

Looking down at his lap, he whispered, “I always thought it’d be you and Steve.”

Chuckling, you wrapped your arms around him, giving him an awkward hug. “I love you, Dustin. Steve and I are just friends. Always have been. We talked about it, sure, but I didn’t like his King Steve attitude, so we just remained friends. He’s my best friend now because of how he took you in.”

Dustin looked at you. “What about Eddie? You were so shy around him.”

“I’m shy around everyone,” you retorted. “But Eddie’s different. You know how when you saw Suzie for the first time, how your heart almost exploded?” At his nod, you continued, not realizing that Jeff, Gareth and Doug had sat on the floor in front of you, listening to your story as Eddie leaned against the wall by the door, watching your interaction. “That’s how I felt when I first saw Eddie. Seeing him those nights that I stayed during those nights you wanted me to, I kept having that… heart exploding feeling. I had tonight during Hellfire.”

“So, since the two of you went to Max’s and then had sex after, what does that make you two now?” your brother asked.

Mortified, you widened your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“Y/N/N, I’m not stupid.”

Narrowing your eyes, you asked, “You’ve read my books?”

“I think everyone in this room has,” he chuckled. “You’re not subtle when you’re reading those scenes.”

“Anyway!” you exclaimed as everyone laughed, your own chuckle sounding from you. “Eddie and I… we’re… together.”

Cheers were heard all around, Jeff and Gareth all but tackling you to the couch, Eddie’s voice sounding over the noise as he said, “Alright, get off my girl!” He pulled to your feet, wrapping an arm around your lower back, his free hand resting on your hip as you wrapped an arm around his neck, your free hand resting on his shoulder. “You ready for this wild ride with this bunch?”

Nodding, you brought the hand that was resting on his shoulder to wrap behind his neck at the same moment he wrapped his arm around your waist, hands resting just above your ass. “The wildest.”

Eddie dipped his head with a smile, meeting your lips in a sweet, passionate kiss… before Dustin’s groan broke it up, leaving the two of you laughing.

“Quit making out with my sister!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about my first eddie munson fic! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: 

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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on January 9, 2024

[drakulana]

the first spark // trafalgar law x reader

content: sfw, fem! reader, female pronouns, sloooow burn w little resolution, long reader backstory, violence

part 2, part 3

word count: 5.5k

notes: this is my first ever fan fic!!! i’m very proud of it, and i worked on it for a few weeks on and off. i hope you enjoy!!

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

The Polar Tang had been under the water for about a month now. Never in a million years did (Y/n) think she’d be in the middle of the ocean, let alone underneath the surface in a submarine, 395 meters down. She had joined the Heart Pirates about 6 months ago and was just now getting used to being underwater for such a long amount of time. She had been having continuous headaches she assumed to be due to the pressure of being underwater for such a long time. They would come and go, some days worse than others. Today was one of the worst days. The chores had been done, and all the tasks were complete. Most of the crew decided to lounge around, hanging out with one another. To (Y/n) it seemed as if all corners of the submarine were occupied, and they all had too much noise to focus. Trying to find some peace and quiet, she made her way down to the boiler room, letting the laughter and chatter of her crew fade as she departed. It was not the first time she had done this, in fact this was her little secret. No one liked to come down here unless it was included in the work that they had to do. Pipes lined the walls, and the low hum of engines from a few doors over buzzed through the room. Finally at peace, she took a deep breath and exhaled.

A week ago, (Y/n) had stashed a book and a blanket down here, along with a pillow and a cushion she found in storage. She tucked herself into the corner, and sat down on the box that had placed the cushion on. She pulled out the book she was reading which was just a volume of some medical book Captain Law had in the library. Principles of Neurology. It was not an interesting read in the slightest, but there really was not a wide variety to choose from in the Surgeon of Death’s library.

Her mind started to wander as she flipped page by page trying to follow along the best she could with what she was reading. An entity of “frailty” has been conceived to encompass the sum of breakdown in multiple organ systems… She read the sentence over a few times. She made a mental note to get a book that was relatively interesting on the next island that they stopped on. Letting out a sigh, she continued to try to read but ended up drifting away with her thoughts. She was still relatively new to the crew, she had been with them for 6 months. Long enough to get comfortable with her crewmates, but not so long that they knew everything about her.

(Y/n) joined the Heart Pirates after aiding Law with intel that he needed about someone he was “researching.” During the process of this, she got caught up with the conflicts of whoever Law was looking into, and was taken hostage. While in hostage, the person pressed her for information of who was after them, how she knew all of their info, who was her informant? Despite the pressure, and the fear of looming death, she did not give out any answers. She chose against ratting out the Heart Pirates. At that moment, she was sure she was gonna die either way. If she gave out the information, the Heart Pirates were sure to come after her. If they were to get a hold of her, she’d have to answer to the Surgeon of Death. However, if she didn’t give out the answers, the man who was holding her hostage could kill her. So naturally, she picked the lesser of the two evils. Her mouth was staying shut. Like hell was she going to answer to Trafalgar Law of all people. She sat back and recalled that day.

She was held in a damp, dim, humid room. She wasn’t too sure on how long she had been there, but it was probably half a day. The interrogation started out like all of them did with questions and threats. After the first few hours of not speaking punches began to be thrown, and weapons were soon pulled out. Somebody’s hasty, she thought to herself as the interrogation took turns for the worst faster than she had anticipated. It was clear the man she had sold out was in a hurry. He was scared. How he found out it was her that sold his information, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this guy found out, and now he was mad and had a dagger. He kept questioning, each unanswered question he got a couple cuts in. Midquestion, a commotion outside the door started. Yelling ensued, then things breaking and then a panicked, “Boss, we have visitors.” The man interrogating you paused his mild torture, faltering as he stepped towards the door, like he was weighing his options. Would he stay in this room, or deal with the inevitable of being confronted by the man who seemed out his information, Trafalgar Law. He turned to the girl who was sitting in the chair. Her hands were tied in front of her, and her feet were tied together. “You,” He pointed an accusatory finger, “this is all your fault!” and you know, he was right, it was all her fault. She gave the intel for a very pretty penny, but how was she suppose to know she was going to get kidnapped and interrogated. How did they even know it was her who gave the intel? Questions zoomed through her head as he stormed towards her with the dagger in his hand. He held it to her throat. “I oughta kill you right here, right now. A life for a life.” The cool edge of the shaky blade pressed into her skin, nicking her in the slightest due to his unsteady hands. Then, with a sharp slice, her warm sticky blood poured down her neck. An involuntary gasp ripped from her throat as she felt the blood gather at the neckline of her shirt, soaking it. This is it, she thought, Here’s where I die. But before he could cut any deeper, the door to the room burst open. A warm yellow light illuminated the room from the hall outside. A tall figure stood in the doorway. It stormed over to the man, grabbing him by the back of his collar, turning him around. The warm light from the hallway casted across the face of the figure, it was none other than Trafalgar Law. Law craned down to the man’s height, paying the woman tied to the chair no mind, “I believe you have something I want,” he said in a low gruff voice. The man trembled in his grasp. “Now why don’t we take a little trip to your laboratory,” Trafalgar Law dragged the man out of the room, leaving the woman in there alone. It was a quick few minutes before she realized she was gonna have to free herself, and this was her only chance.

She looked around the room and spotted the dagger that the man had dropped near the doorway. Seeing her chance of escape, she scooted the chair towards the entrance. She grabbed the knife with her feet. Reaching down with her tied hands, she cut the ropes that bound her. Whoever tied her up did a really shitty job. Finally free, she prepared herself to escape. Dagger in hand, the silver of the blade glinting as she gazed upon the object. She couldn’t help but notice the blood on the edge from the man attempting to slit her throat. She tried to pay no mind to the wet sticky pain that was starting to raidiate down her neck and into her collarbones. Pushing the pain aside, she made her way through the place, careful to avoid anyone who might be lurking. Once she made it out, she let out a sigh of relief. Barefoot and bleeding, she decided she should probably take the alleyways home. She would hate to scare oncoming bypassers, or god forbid someone contact the authorities. Slipping into the alley, she started to make her way home before a voice cut through the night, “And where do you think you’re going?” Her head whipped around, gripping the dagger that she held in her hand. That voice was the one of Trafalgar Law. She met the man’s golden eyes. She quickly took in his appearance. When she first gave him the intel she had noticed his height, but she also wasn’t fearing for her life at the time. The weight of impending doom really added a foot or two to his appearance. “I didn’t tell them anything,” she breathed. “I didn’t say a word, I swear.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, and her voice didn’t sound like hers as it bounced off the alleyway walls. He took a step closer to her, “I know, but I still can’t let you go. You’re hurt, let me look at it,” he stepped closer. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton. She took a step back, “I’m fine,” she gritted while taking one more step back, trying to put enough distance between them just so she’d have a chance of running away. She was just interrogated and borderline tortured, if she had known what the intentions were behind the wanted intel, she would’ve denied the offer. Besides, it wasn’t like the intel was collected for malice in the first place. (Y/n) had a goal, and that goal was to collect the most information she could, and write it all down into a book. This extended from histories of islands, pirates, doctors, scientists, government officials. Few people knew about her knowledges of the world and it’s inhabitants. Every now and then she would get someone wanting some information, and if the price was right she’d give it to them. She never thought it would lead to this, cornered in an alleyway by the Surgeon of Death himself. “I’m a doctor,” Law’s voice echoed off the walls as he slowly stepped forward towards her, like he was trying to approach a scared stray, careful not to spook it. His hands were held out in front of him, as if he meant no harm, however the word ‘DEATH’ tattooed across both his hands stated otherwise.

“I know good and well who and what you are.” Unintentional venom laced her words. She knew all about the reputation that seemed to proceed him. She had done her research whenever she came across his wanted poster a year ago. She never thought she would cross paths with him, he was just another name in her book for the longest time.

“Then you know it’s in your best interest if you just come with me.” With that last sentence from him, she falsely dropped her guard, muttering a small okay. She didn’t think this tactic was going to work, but as soon as she saw him relax his stance, she bolted. Running through the alleyway with no shoes seemed to be a difficult task, impeding her usual speed. Trying her best to avoid glass and nails, she darted in between the buildings, and in and out of the alleyways. She had the advantage, she knew this city. The poorly maintained asphalt stung, but she had no other choice but to ignore it if she wanted to get away.

She finally was able to duck behind a building after what felt like an eternity of turning down random streets and alleys. She leaned against the bricks to catch her breath, gripping the dagger in her hand. Her heartbeat was in her ears, she could feel the blood rushing through every vein. She stilled and tried to stay quiet, the only sound leaving her was a shaky exhale. The adrenaline slightly wore off as the silence of the night settled. The events of the night really started to set into her body. Her arms and legs aches, her lungs burned, her throat was on fire. Despite the pain setting in, she thought she had gotten away by some miracle, but a second later the same low voice she was running from bounced around her again. “You really think you could get away from me that easily?” His voice echoed, giving it a more sinister sound than what he had intended. She met his eyes. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline making her analyze her situation in full detail, or if she was just delusional, but she found herself taking in every detail of his presence. The eyes that held her eye contact were golden. He had a lean figure, and was undoubtedly in shape. The moonlight poured over his figure, casting an intimidating shadow as he now stood in front of her. She noted the yellow button up that was halfway buttoned, showing a glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. He had on jeans that had spots on them, and a white hat that shared those same spots. Draped over his shoulders was a long navy coat. If she wasn’t running from him, she could’ve admitted that he was quite an attractive man, but in her head he was trying to catch her so he could kill her.

Her grip on the handle of the dagger tightened before hurling it in Law’s direction. The blade rotated in the air before hitting Law in the shoulder. The way the dagger was thrown would’ve been deemed as impressive by him if he wasn’t on the receiving end of the throw. He quickly pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, and threw it to the ground before chasing after her, once again. This time she was only able to make it a few blocks before he finally tackled her to the ground against the rough concrete. She felt the skin of her knees and elbows scrape against the asphalt, surely breaking the skin. Heart racing, and body trembling, the woman underneath him had no choice but to accept her fate. “You’ll be coming with me,” he growled at her, bitterness lacing his tone. He pulled her up and off the ground then led her to the dock on the bay. His grip was more than enough of a reminder that there was nowhere she could go.

The walk to the submarine was silent, and the man next to her was not giving off a very welcoming energy considering he was taking her against her will. Blood slightly bled through his shirt where the dagger had hit him. He walked her down the dock, and onto a yellow submarine that had ‘DEATH’ written on the side of it. Well how lovely is that? She thought to herself. His firm grip on her upper arm never faltered as he guided her down the hallways of the submarine. Several of his crew members moved aside to make way for the two of them to walk down the hall. It was like a walk of shame. Once they reached the end of the hall, he opened a door. The sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and latex filled her nose, as the bright white lights poured out of the room. It was an examination room. “Sit,” he pointed to the examination table. Having no other choice, that’s exactly what she did, she sat.

Without another word, he started inspecting her injuries. He lifted her chin to get a better look at her neck. “This will need stitches,” he said flatly. He examined the other scrapes and cuts on her body. The adrenaline wore off long ago, and pain radiated from her toes to her head. He cleaned the area and prepped his needle. The stitching process was painful. She sharply inhaled when he stuck the needle through. “Be still,” he commanded, “It’ll only hurt worse if you move.” She had to force herself not to flinch at the needle stitching up her wound. Finally having her still, and in front of him, Law couldn’t deny that (Y/n) was very attractive. The way her hair framed her face, the way she held herself with such self assurance. Fear still resided in her pretty eyes, as she stayed as still as possible while he stitched. He ended up doing seven stitches, the cut was sure to leave a scar to adorn her pretty neck. He cleaned the other wounds and bandaged them up. It was silent in that exam room, and then finally he broke the silence. “Why did you run away?” He asked her. She looked at him like asked the stupidest question, and in some way he did. Who wouldn’t run away from the Surgeon of Death? His reputation alone was enough to make a grown man fall to his knees, and she had literally just seen a grown man fall to his knees at the hand of him. After weighing her response, she broke the silence, “Dying wasn’t on my agenda once I got out of there,” her voice quiet, but not weak.

“Why would I kill you?” He asked her. Again, another incredulous look was thrown at him. Was he not aware of the grumbling that went along with his name?

“For knowing too much?” She answered, in a duh tone.

“You don’t know anymore than you did whenever I approached you for intel. I had some of my men go through your files, you have some very impressive intel on multiple pirates including the warlords and emperors. Where do you get all that?”

“Verified sources,” she simply answered, not letting onto her process of gathering information. There was another silence before she broke it this time. “Listen, if you’re going to kill me, just go ahead and make it quick. Medical torture really doesn’t sound appealing.”

He chuckled lightly at this, but it was not one of humor, “I’m not gonna kill you, but I’m definitely not letting you go either. I know what you’re working on, and I want your intel. Join my crew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, and by the way he was talking to her that was very obvious.

“What’s in it for me?” She inquired like she had a choice.

“You can do some more of your research, and we could use your intel,” He stated like it was obvious. “Everybody wins.” Unfortunately, he was right. Going island to island would be great for her research, and it would give her an opportunity to get first count perspective about the things she was writing about. For a pirate, the information that she held would be very helpful, they would never go into a situation blind. However, being a pirate was not appealing. If she joined the Heart Pirates, she’d surely be wanted, especially with the information that she had collected over the years. She had been able to keep the things that she knew on the low, only occasionally being visited by certain people who wanted intel, but the intel always came at a price. It was a very hush-hush thing. Putting aside the fact that she knew more than most about what was going on in the world, she was just an ordinary woman with no devil fruit, no haki, how was she supposed to be a wanted woman? After mulling over his words, she finally spoke up, “I don’t think you know what I do. I’m gathering information to add to a book. I am not a pirate. I don’t have any fighting techniques, I would die as soon as we hit the battlefield. I will slow you down, no information is worth dying for, or putting your crew in danger for,” she argued, trying to convince herself if she made herself look like a burden, she would be let go.

“Your knowledge outweighs your weaknesses,” he stated. He wasn’t budging on this matter. “Join my crew, and you’ll get to gain more knowledge about the world. Think about the intel you could get if you were traveling the seas?” Once again, he did make a very good point.

“What if I say no?” She asked, wondering if he’d confirm her suspicions. A pregnant silence fell over the room again. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one, and this just might be the death of her.

“You don’t want to say no.” He left it at that, and finished cleaning her wounds and patching her up.

That was six months ago. Six months of being on this submarine. Six months ago and she still didn’t feel as if she belonged, still felt as if she served no purpose. Sure after the first month, her crew mates started to adore her with her little jokes and random fun facts, but what was she really doing out on the open ocean? She sat there pondering until a voice ripped her out of her head. “You enjoying the Principles of Neurology?” It was her dear captain. She didn’t know he had been standing there, watching her unmovingly stare at the same page. She looked up at him, and then back down at the page she had been staring at for what felt like forever. “Sure, I’m having a blast learning about…The Neurology of Aging,” she read out the chapter name.

“What are you doing down here?” her captain asked her, curiosity lacing his tone.

“This is my secret hiding place, don’t tell the others,” she mused at him. Their relationship was very professional, and in fact for the first month and a half she was on the Polar Tang, she hardly said a word to him outside of him asking for information about various people and places. It’s not like she had a choice or not to be on the damned submarine. It still didn’t feel quite right to be there, but in the past few months she had started to let her guard down. She always addressed her captain with a professional tone, but every now and then she’d throw in a bit of a playful tone, and most times he would entertain her antics. “What are you doing down here?” she asked. She looked at her captain, taking in his appearance. She couldn’t lie, he was a very attractive man. Whenever she would have thoughts like this she would kick herself. She would remind herself who he was. He was her captain, and that’s all that was.

He looked down at her, discreetly looking her up and down, “I was looking for you. I would like to discuss some information about an island we will be arriving to in the next few days. There is an epidemic there and I will need all the information you have on the island, and the citizens so that we can take the proper precautions upon arrival.” His voice echoed off the metal walls.

“Oh okay, let me go up and grab my notes,” She said as she got up from her box, folding the blanket and placing the Neurology book on top.

“Meet me in my office,” he ordered, as he turned to go up the ladder. She made her way into her bunk and pulled out a notebook and a binder filled with stuff about all the islands she knew about. They were organized by North Blue, South Blue, East Blue, West Blue, Grandline, and New World. She gathered all her things and made her way towards Captain Law’s office.

She entered the Captain’s Quarters with a binder that was bursting at the seams, holding all her notes. As she walked in she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the Captain’s Quarters, but everytime she had been in there it was only for a brief period, usually dropping off files and papers from her research. Papers were stacked high on his desk, and there were files and books scattered across the room. It was messy, but it was not dirty. The room smelled like paper, ink, and Law.

She made her way over to his desk and started to flip through her binder. The binder was as full as it could be, and while the different places were organized, the contents of the binder within her neatly divided sections were scrawls of writing and small sketches here and there. “So, where we going?” She asked, beaming. She loved talking about all the things she had researched. She loved gathering information and putting it all together. Her goal was to write a full encyclopedia on the world and maybe one day she could write about the One Piece, if it was ever found. Without looking up, Law answered, “Bronze Island.” She was aware of the location, and she was also very aware of the disease that spread through the island, almost 60% of cases were fatal.

She flipped to the section where the island’s information was found, hesitantly inhaling before stating, “Uhh… I don’t think you want to go there.” Law looked up at her for the first time since she had entered his office, feigning annoyance behind his eyes. “I do think I want to go there,” He countered. She didn’t argue with him, he was the captain after all, but this island was being raided by pestilence.

“This disease has a high mortality rate, and it’s more contagious than the common cold. It’s an airborne disease. It spread mostly through bodily fluids,” she spouted off. “The island has poor air quality which just adds to the mix, making the citizens’ immune systems weaker. The island’s government is riddled with corrupt officials. There have been many uprisings staged, but none of them have aided in the ridding of the corrupt officials,” She set the paper in front of her captain. “If you have any questions, let me know. I’ll leave the rest of these pages to you,” she took a stack of papers out of the binder and laid them on his desk. There must have been at least 20 of them. The pages consisted of information about the epidemic, information on the citizens, as well the island officials. Law looked through the papers, before setting them back down. She used that as her cue to leave, and went towards the door, “Just let me know when you’re done with them.”

“Where are you going?” He asked her as if it were normal for her to stay. He never asked her to stay after giving him her research. He usually just looked at them and returned them. They shared eye contact for a split second before he answered her unasked question of why. “I’m going to need your help on this one.” Without replying, she turned back towards him and sat in a chair that was in front of his desk. The chair was hardly broken in, and it was obvious her captain didn’t really enjoy visitors all that much in his study, unless necessary. A dull sense of pride bubbled up inside of her, hearing that he needed her help. For a second she was able to push aside the feeling of not belonging on this ship. Her captain picked up the pages that she had given him and handed them back to her. “Let’s start with the island officials.” (Y/n) flipped through the papers getting to the officials section of her research, and started spouting off the names and the roles they played within the island’s government. She didn’t know what her captain was planning, nor did she think she wanted to know what he was planning. She was still new to this pirate thing, new to the notion that sometimes some people will get hurt in the crossfire. Hell, she was almost one of those people.

Brushing off her thoughts she skimmed across the paper, coming across some grammatical errors. “Captain Law?” A comfortable softness laced her tone as he caught her eyes. He had never heard her voice sound so sweet, so warm. His heart almost melted. “Could I borrow a pencil?” She asked him, holding his gaze with hers. He mumbled a quick of course before holding the object towards her. She reached out to take it, the tips of her fingers brushing his. When they touched, a jolt of electricity shocked them both. His golden eyes met hers once again, but lingered for a second too long this time. Long enough for her eyes to travel down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. It felt as if time stood still. It felt like it was the first time she had really taken a good look at her captain since that night 3 months ago. She pulled her attention away, muttering a quick thank you as she took the pencil, hoping the lighting in his office didn’t capture the slight pink dusting her cheeks. She internally kicked herself for letting her eyes travel, for letting herself put him on a pedestal in her mind, even if it was only for a split second. It was wrong in so many ways, she couldn’t let herself think about him in that way. She couldn’t let her guard down. Mutually ignoring their little moment, they both resumed to what they were doing.

After about 2 hours of going through the information about the island and it’s government, as well as its citizens, they wrapped up their work. “Would you like me to leave you these papers?” She asked him. Without looking up from all of the notes that he had taken, he let a single, “Yes,” fall from his lips. She nodded, and put the papers on his desk. “If you have any questions, you know where to find me,” As she was about to make her exit, she heard her name being called. She turned her head to look at her captain, unintentionally savoring the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Thank you for the help,” he said smoothly, hesitating before continuing, “And if you ever need a place to hide, don’t hesitate to come in here to read or to finish your research.” She smiled and nodded her head as the feeling of belonging settled in her core for the second time that night. “Thank you, if you ever need anymore help I’m more than happy to do so,” she replied trying to sound as professional as possible in order to combat the warm feeling that was starting to bubble in her stomach. She turned on her heel and made her way back to her bunk.

That night, against her will, her thoughts were consumed by her captain and the moment they had shared. She felt guilty feeling this way, it wasn’t right to feel borderline giddy as she recalled such minor events. Sure, maybe their fingers touched, and maybe he made her feel like she belonged for once, but it was a moral dilemma just waiting to happen. Internally, she berated herself for even thinking about her captain in that way. Despite her self berating, she let her thoughts drift to her captain as she stared at the metal ceiling. There was a comfortable air around him, one she didn’t like to acknowledge that often. He felt safe, but she knew he could be dangerous. He seemed sane, but she knew he wasn’t. She was aware the longer she stayed with the Heart Pirates the more she let her guard down, and that included Law. She surely was trusted if he was offering to share his quiet space. She thought about how he offered it to her, with softer words than his usual tone. No matter how hard she tried to shake the doctor from her thoughts she couldn’t. That night, she went to sleep with Trafalgar Law taking up the space where her dreams usually lay.

Down the hall, in the captain quarters, Law mulled over what he had said to her before she left the room. It wasn’t like him to just offer someone a place in his study like that. Law worked alone. It was his space. That was the one place he was guaranteed to get some peace and quiet. What was even more strange was that he didn’t even regret offering his space to her. In fact, he was hoping that she would take him up on it and spend her time there instead of in the boiler room. He pushed his thoughts away, rationalizing his offer as just an excuse to gather more of the information she held. If she were to come to the office for peace and quiet, it was inevitable for her to work there too. He told himself that was the real reason he had offered it, rather not acknowledging the warmth he felt when he was around her. He pushed his thoughts away and buried himself in his work for the night, every now and then thinking about his crew member. The feeling that was tugging in his chest would have to be for another day.

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

@drakulana 2023 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost without my consent

[reikaryu]

PRIVATE FILE : ERROR 1004.

This file is confidential and not available to public view. For more information, please refer to the Chief Detective. To gain access, enter the passcode.

It seems that the file has been leaked. Do you wish to open it?

YES / NO

UNKNOWN : A YOON JEONGHAN ONE-SHOT.

GENRE mystery, childhood best friends to ???, detective!jeonghan, high profile criminal!reader, more tba in full fic

WARNING(S) yn is literally her own person and a psycho basically (BUT she’s an adult!), includes a lot of dark themes & criminal/illegal activities (use of weapons, mentioned deaths of minor characters, escaping prison, lying to authorities, drugging a law enforcement officer, etc.), very plot heavy & potentially messy, teaser is really dialogue heavy, more tba in full fic

WORD COUNT 1,264 words (teaser)

A/N hi everyone this is my teaser/intro to detective!jeonghan <333 I did not expect to be working so hard on this lol ... it was supposed to be a cute little one-shot then it turned into THIS! anyway I hope you enjoy this little teaser! disclaimer, this is NOT a preview. the full fic (which is still a wip) will not include whatever is being written here.

RELEASE DATE mid to late december

Yoon Jeonghan was always top of his class in every subject, catching the eyes of the professors and students. He was never too eager to answer questions, yet never shied away when called upon. He was often said to be rather eloquent, knowing his way around words, how to manipulate them cleverly to get what he wanted. Though bad intentions were rare to cross in his bright mind, they weren’t strangers to him.

The only trait you shared with him was your intellectual prowess. Your lazy, laid-back attitude, constant truancy and sharp mouth to the higher-ups were a stark contrast to his rule-abiding personality. While he was busy meeting deadlines, you were occupied with outdoor activities not even he knew of.

Though, while Jeonghan was surpassing everyone at his school, you were also dominating the fields at yours, a level just below him — surprisingly. It was the universe’s gift to mankind that the two of you were never classmates. No one knew the depths of madness either of you would sink to just to outdo the other and emerge as the victor. No one wanted to.

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND 7 MARCH 2019, 13:20

“Maman, have you seen Papa’s watch? The one with his name engraved on the underside.”

“No, my dear. Perhaps it’s in the safe?”

“Hm, maybe. Papa! Check your safe! I’ll look in my room.”

You heard a shout of acknowledgement from your father, then proceeded into your small jewellery room. It wasn’t very well protected — the door was iron, “easy to dent” according to your mother — but you had nothing in there that was too precious to you, anyway.

You rummaged through the glistening archive, turning every wristwatch in hopes of identifying one with your father’s first name. The second set of timepieces sat beside the first, awaiting your foraging hands, until they paused.

“Ah, there we go! DARLING, I FOUND IT!”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you responded, “THAT’S GREAT! I’ll be out in a moment!”

You began to gracefully place the pieces back to their original positions, slotting the metals nicely into the velvet. When you were done, you turned to leave the room, but something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

You stalked towards a piece of yellowed paper peeking out from below one of your jewellery cases. Reaching out slender fingers, you pulled it towards you, unfolding it to read its contents.

The very first letter triggered a childhood memory — no, just a memory. It was too soon to call it ‘childhood,’ as the happenings only occurred a few years ago (or stopped occurring).

From JH To YN

Smiling, you folded it neatly and walked out of the room. With lingering thoughts, you hid the ageing letter safely in your locked drawer.

“Come, sweetie, the flight is at four. We don’t want to be late.”

“No rush, honey. We’re taking our own private jet.”

“Oh, hush, Alistair, there’s still a designated time to be there.”

“No fighting guys! I don’t wanna ruin my first day back in Korea before I even boarded the plane.”

NAME   UNKNOWN ALIASES   NONE RECORD ID#   CF-1495-19 NATIONALITY   UNKNOWN HEIGHT   160-180 CM WEIGHT   UNKNOWN EYE COLOUR   UNKNOWN HAIR COLOUR   UNKNOWN DOB   UNKNOWN AGE   UNKNOWN

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO (UNCONFIRMED)

190915 ARMED ROBBERY — 10Y 6M 0D 200528 GRAND THEFT AUTO — 4Y 8M 0D 210208 SECOND-DEGREE HOMICIDE — 38Y 1M 0D 211022 ARSON — 9Y 11M 220705 FIRST-DEGREE HOMICIDE — 95Y 0M 0D 230318 KIDNAPPING — 3Y 7M 0D

OTHER INFO

Possible other crimes committed by UNKNOWN. Cases stated above possibly not committed by UNKNOWN. Constant clean escapes, no evidence of identity, security cameras down. Sometimes solo, sometimes with partners.

ORDERS

Arrest on sight; to be detained for questioning.

SEOUL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY 25 FEBRUARY 2021, 15:07

The large conference room was buzzing with tension. The entire detective agency was called to gather for an incredibly serious case debrief. Nobody knew what was going on. Even the higher-ups who knew were a selective few.

Jeonghan took a seat beside one of his classmates from the Police Academy, Lee Jihoon. He was a rather short man, almost a complete head shorter than most of his colleagues. Jihoon gave a tight smile, aware of the solemn atmosphere settling in.

The room went silent when the Chief Detective, June Rodgers, stepped up to the pedestal with a document in her hands. As she looked around the room, she spoke into the microphone,

“For the past two years, there have been crimes committed by unknown people. No matter how many detectives or policemen we put on the job, we can never find a single piece of evidence alluding to our culprit. It’s frustrating. I can tell you that every single one of you has worked on one of these … unknown cases. We gather here today to establish this criminal, or group of criminals, as high-profile and our number one priority. However, the order is to arrest on sight, if we ever in a million years come to that point. We want answers — the death penalty, or life imprisonment, will come later. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

It was a quick briefing on “UNKNOWN,” whoever they were. A person, or a group of people, or neither. Jeonghan was beyond curious; he already had some suspicions.

But he couldn’t let himself ponder any longer, because the fire alarm went off immediately after the Chief Detective left the room. Panic set in, sending the detectives into a frenzy. They were trying to keep calm, but Jeonghan could already smell the beading sweat on their foreheads and palms.

At the end of the day, no one, not even the agency’s best detectives, realised they’d detained the wrong person.

They found a man in full-black attire lurking near the burning building. When his hood was pulled down, his crazy grin revealed crooked, yellowed teeth, some already rotting. His skin was dry and flaky, hair full of dandruff. He tried to put up a fight, but the detectives were too strong enough against his nutrient-lacking, deteriorating bones.

He was the perfect image of an arsonist, a convict. Nothing to lose, yet nothing to gain, either.

They would never suspect someone dripping in Prada, nails clean and done, posture perfect every second of the day. They’d never suspect you.

Because who were you? An expatriate who moved to Switzerland for her studies, funded by her family’s wealth.

Paired with your psychology degree, you made the perfect felon. What praise you would get, if only law-breaking was legal …

──────

“I feel kinda bad for that guy.”

“His time had come. He was dying anyway … What’s the penalty for arson again?”

“Ten years? Fifty? Who the fuck cares?”

“Well, if the fire damaged even one really important case file, he’d probably get life imprisonment or a death penalty. Actually, I don’t know.”

“I don’t think any of us do. Especially you, YN. You do whatever you want. I bet you don’t even know how many years basic theft gets you.”

“Um, ten years? Two months? A week?”

“Not even close. A fine or three years.”

“Hey, Switzerland gives ten years. I haven’t been here since I was eighteen.”

“Yeah, but that’s for aggravated theft, and I’m a German citizen.”

“Whatever. Can we go back to discussing dinner? I’m starving. Let’s go to that Chinese place down the street, the one with really good dumplings.”

“You’re paying.”

“Says you, Mr. ‘I Have a Mansion in Thailand and a Long Ass Last Name to Go With It.’”

“No fighting. We’ll pay for what we get.”

“Yes, Taeyong.”

reblogs are appreciated ♡

taglist open !! send an ask or reply to this post (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[morgana-larkin]

Hey! saw u asking for prompts. I REALLY LOVE ur fic 'worth it'!

Anyway, can you write a fic based on '' we get married in our heads'" "I miss you on a train" and 'I think about you' basically based on About You by The 1975. Maybe mel and r have met in Italy, when they're both in vacation. Became real close or something but never really did talk and pursue what was really going on between them because both are scared, then they part ways and never had contact with each other 'cause they thought it's better that way, until reader arrives at abbott as the new teacher not knowing she'll see the redhead again

Hey, thank you for the prompt! I’m glad you’re liking Worth It. I hope you like this, it has a lot of angst because apparently my brain deemed it necessary but a happy ending.

Don’t Let Me Go

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Sad Mel (yes this is a warning because I don’t like it when she’s upset)

Words: 3.6

Beautiful green eyes stare back at you in your mind. You just got back from Italy where you were teaching a child English during the summer and that’s where you also met her, Melissa Schemmenti. She was visiting some family members of hers during summer vacation for 2 months.

You still remember meeting her. You were sitting on the patio of a coffee shop reading an Italian- English dictionary so you can help teach the child better. She saw you sitting there and thought you were beautiful, sitting there, with some sunglasses on, a smile on your face and the sun hitting you, making it look like you’re glowing. She decided to walk up to you and start conversation.

“That book makes you stand out as a tourist.” She told you and you looked up at her and saw those eyes, those green eyes that you still think about in your mind.

“Well I think the book and the fact that I’ll look completely clueless if someone talks to me in Italian will make people know I’m a tourist.” You replied back to her and she laughed. A laugh that you think about constantly that you hear in your mind.

You and Melissa became friends after that, you went out to places together and she showed you the places that Italy had to offer. You learned that she was a teacher as well and that she lived in Philly. You both talked about everything and told each other all about yourselves. And in the 2 months of you two knowing each other, you both became attracted to each other, although neither of you mentioned it. And then when the time came for both of you to go back home, you both decided it was best to cut contact, since you won’t see each other again.

“Are you sure?” You asked her and she nodded.

“I had a great time with you these past 2 months but we’re not going to see each other again so why keep contact?” She said and you nodded. “It’s for the best.”

5 years later…

You recently just moved from New York to south Philly. You were on a train, just coming back from picking up the last of your things from your parents house in New York that you gave to them to keep for you. You were listening to music when you saw someone with red hair walk on and then you thought about her, the beautiful Italian woman you met 5 years ago during the summer. You still think about her of course, and wondering if you should have told her how you felt before you parted ways.

The next day you wake up, you’re starting your new job as Abbott Elementary’s new 3rd grade teacher. You walk into the entrance of the school and went to the main office to get your badge and classroom key. As soon as you walked you ran into someone. You went to go apologise to the person, but as soon as you looked at them you froze. It was her, the woman who still sometimes occupies your thoughts and dreams.

“Melissa?” You say to her quietly, in disbelief that she was right here in front of you. Melissa was just as shocked as you were, and then you looked into those green eyes that you only saw in your dreams now and they made you feel safe.

“Y/N?” She said back to you, just as quietly. “Wha-what are you doing here?” She asked you.

“I-I’m the new 3rd grade teacher.” You stuttered out. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a 2nd grade teacher here, have been for many years now.” She said.

Before either of you can say anything else you get interrupted. “Hey Melissa, can I talk to about the curriculum we got this year I have a couple of questions.” A younger teacher said to her. And then she saw you. “Oh hi, are you a new teacher here?” She asked you.

“Ya my name is Y/N Y/L/N, the new 3rd grade teacher.” You tell her and hold out a hand for her and she shook it.

“Oh how lovely to meet you! My name is Janine Teagues. I’m a second grade teacher here like Melissa here.” She told you.

You left Melissa and Janine to talk and you went to your classroom to set up before the kids get here in 30 minutes. You didn’t get the chance to do it the week prior as you were in the middle of moving and the principal said it’s fine and just emailed all the information that you needed to know.

You were putting up some fun posters with the help of a stool when she walked in without you realising it.

“Y/N?” She said. You didn’t know she was there so it took you by surprise and you fell off the stool face first. She caught you, of course, and when you realised she did, you opened your eyes and saw hers staring at you. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” She said and let go of you when you found your footing.

“It’s alright, you caught me so it’s fine, no harm done.” You told her and walked over to your desk to organise some papers. “Was there something you needed?” You asked her. You tried to seem calm on the outside instead of freaking out like you were on the inside. The truth is that you missed her. You missed her as a friend. You only knew each other for 2 months but you became really close and even knowing that you only had 2 months, feelings had to of course get in the way.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She said and when you looked up at her, she looked hurt. Hurt about what? You don’t know. Melissa was trying to be neutral about this, you both thought it’d be better to cut contact before you parted 5 years ago. And in that 5 years, she never forgot you, and seeing you again, she realised how much she missed you. She remembered showing you around, walking and running around, hand in hand, smiling and laughing. She thought about finding you constantly, she could have asked one of her guys to find you and they would have, but that scared her. She became attracted to you in those 2 months and she never told you, she knew you’d never like her back the way that she likes you. She knew you were attracted to women, but she thought you’d never be attracted to her.

“Well considering that we said it would be better to not have contact with each other when we parted, then I can see why you thought that.” You said coldly and she was taken aback by that. The truth is that while you were excited to see her again, it was originally her idea to cut contact, and she convinced you that it was for the best. And now here she is talking to you after she so easily left you behind. “Look Melissa, I don’t know what you want but, we became friends in Italy but we haven’t spoken in 5 years because you thought that would be for the best.” You told her and she nodded looking guilty. “So I think it would be best if we continue that way.” You told her and it hurt to tell her that but you have to protect yourself against her. She hurt you 5 years ago and while you wanted to be her friend again like before, she might just hurt you again. You’re not going to take that chance again.

Melissa’s heart broke a bit at you telling her that. She missed you and wanted to see if she could reconnect with you again. But if you don’t want to then she can’t force you. “If that’s what you want.” She told you and you looked at her.

“I think it’s for the best.” You said simply. Repeating the same words she told you before you left to the airport, leaving your heart in pieces and regret for not telling her how you feel. And while your feelings for her never left, you’re still not going to tell her, you won’t give her any chance to hurt you again, to break your heart, once was already enough. At that Melissa nodded and left.

And it seems the universe hates you as Melissa’s room was across the hall. You took a deep breath and continued getting ready before you went to go meet your new students.

You walked outside as students were lining up as they found who’s going to be their teacher this year. Someone called you over and told you to stand where they are so they know where to bring students that were going to be in your class. The universe had it out for you as you were told to stand 4 feet away from Melissa. You both did your best not to look at each other but every few seconds, one of you did.

At one point the sun hit you the exact same way it did when she first met you and the way it hit you again when she took you on a picnic to a beautiful park she knew. She thought you looked beautiful in the sun dress you wore, how it fit your body perfectly and your hair glowing in the sun. After you finished your meal you both layed down on the blanket and looked at the clouds in the sky and just enjoyed each other’s presence. And at one point you took her hand in yours and she turned to look at you, only to find you looking back at her with a smile. And she just layed there, looking into your eyes with a smile, the sun hitting your face, making you look like you’re glowing, like an angel.

It broke her heart that you wanted nothing to do with her now but she understood, she had basically told you that on that very sad day, when you said goodbye to each other, thinking it was for forever. Melissa was used to cutting people off, but it still hurt her when she did. Since you decided that you want the both of you to ignore each other, then that’s what she’s going to do. But she couldn’t stop a smile from forming when you were greeting some of your students with a huge smile.

Unknown to Melissa, Barb happened to look over at Melissa looking at you. She saw her looking at you with a sad smile and longing in her eyes. Barb heard your name being called and that’s when she put 2 and 2 together. Melissa told her about the woman she met on her vacation in Italy 5 years ago whose name was Y/N Y/L/N. And now here she was, the new teacher at Abbott. And from the look Melissa was giving you, Barb thought that seeing you again didn’t go well, since it seemed you were ignoring her. Barb decided that she’ll talk to Melissa at lunch.

The morning went by and Melissa kept looking across the hall to your classroom. She saw how you were with the kids and it warmed her heart. She saw how gentle you were, how you talked to them with a smile, and paid complete attention to them when they talked to you. She felt like she made a mistake letting you go 5 years ago but she thought that you would go and live your life and leave her behind in the end if you kept contact.

Lunch came and like always, Barb met Melissa in her classroom before they went to the break room together. But this time when Barb walked in, she closed the door after making sure it was only her and Melissa in the room.

Melissa heard the door close and saw Barb standing there giving her a look. “What?”

“So am I correct in assuming that the new 3rd grade teacher is the same one you met in Italy 5 years ago?” Barb said, straight to the point. And the sigh and look she gave was all the answer she needed.

“Ya, the same one.” Melissa said defeated.

“And I’m also guessing that meeting her again didn’t go well.”

“She said she wanted nothing to do with me. And used the exact same words I said to her 5 years ago when she asked me if I was sure I wanted to cut contact with her. That it’s for the best.” Melissa sighed and put her elbows on the desk and her head in her hands.

“Melissa…” Barb started but was interrupted by the redhead.

“I missed her Barb, I knew I did but after seeing her again, I realised how much I missed her. Even after 5 years I never forgot her. How is it that we spent only 2 months together and I still think about her 5 years later?” Melissa said, and her voice cracked at the end. Barb could tell she was on the verge of crying.

“Even spending a short time with someone can leave an impact on you. It’s not always the amount of time together but the quality of the time you spend together.” Barb says and Melissa looks up at her , with red eyes. “Oh sweetheart.” Barb says and goes over and hugs her, and that’s when Melissa starts crying. Melissa never told her but Barb knew she developed feelings for the Italy girl. “Have you told her how you feel?” Barb asked after Melissa stopped crying.

“No. Why would I do that?” Melissa asks like the reason was obvious.

“Because maybe she feels the same and that’s why she’s avoiding you.” Barb says and Melissa freezes. She didn’t think about that. But as always Melissa declines it, deeming it impossible.

But the week goes by and Melissa can’t stop thinking about that. She thought about it more and more and the only thing she wanted was to be near you. But during the week, you did everything you could to avoid her. You never put anything in the fridge and you always come in with your own coffee so you never have to go in the break room in the morning. You avoid any possible eye contact when you’re both standing at the doorway, greeting your students. At lunchtime you eat in your classroom or in your car. At the end of the day you don’t look at her and you leave before Melissa does. And when you pass each other in the hall, you don’t even look her way. She sees you talking to other people though, you and Jacob seem to take a liking to each other as you guys have a lot of the same interests. She’s seen you talk to Barb at the beginning of the week but then you found out her and Barb were best friends so you haven’t talked to Barb since.

Before she knew it, one week goes by, then another, and another, and then it was Halloween morning and by some miracle, it was on a Friday this year. Melissa came in dressed as the scarlet witch and of course she saw you checking her out. You came dressed as Captain Marvel. Of course you both had to pick someone from the same universe. Melissa thought you looked amazing in the costume. It’s safe to say that while you were checking Melissa out, she was also checking you out.

And when hell broke loose and the teachers had to find baby thanos, you and her got paired together. While you were walking in the halls together, she kept looking at you. She wanted to talk to you and she had the perfect opportunity too, but she didn’t know how to start.

“Would you stop looking at me please.” You told her, well I guess you started it.

“Sorry, I want to talk to you though.” She said and you looked at her.

“That’s interesting, because 5 years ago you told me that we shouldn’t talk to each other again.” You countered.

“I made a mistake.” You looked at her a bit shocked. She certainly got your attention now. “I shouldn’t have suggested that we stop all contact. I regretted telling you that right away. I thought about looking for you, multiple times but I never did.”

“Why didn’t you? Why did you suggest cutting contact if you regretted it?” You asked her, and she dragged you into the nearest classroom and closed the door.

“Because I got scared Y/N. I got scared of how I felt about you. I didn’t just think of you as a friend, well I did at first but then I got feelings for you. And I knew that if we kept contact then eventually you’ll find someone else and live your life and leave me behind. I didn’t want you to hurt me when that happens so I decided that it would be best if we forget each other. But it backfired, because I never forgot you, I thought about you constantly.” Melissa said, and she got a bit choked up trying not to cry. “And then when we bumped into each other after 5 years, all I wanted was to reconnect with you and tell you how sorry I was for letting you go. But when I tried you wanted nothing to do with me and it broke my heart when you said that.” A tear fell down her cheek and her eyes were rimmed red.

You looked at her after her confession, whatever you thought she might have said that, that was not it. You didn’t know what to say, your brain processed everything she said. “You had feelings for me?” You said, and Melissa looked up into your eyes and saw that you looked hurt, the same look you had when you two said goodbye to each other.

“Have actually, I still have feelings for you, they never went away like I thought they would.” She confessed and you were shocked.

“I have feelings for you as well.” You confessed.

“You-you do?” She asked, not believing it to be true.

You nodded. “That’s why I thought it would be best if we stayed away from each other. It hurt when you told me that we shouldn’t speak to each other again. So when I saw you again, I was excited to see you again and then I remembered the pain from you leaving me behind so easily. I didn’t want to get hurt again. So I thought that I would spare myself the pain in the future and just not talk to you now. I regret not telling you how I felt then, but I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way because you’re…well… you know, you’re u. You’re so amazing and sweet and gorgeous, you could have anyone you want. You told her.

“Anyone except you, I could have anyone except the person I actually want.” She said with a tear rolling down her cheek. “If I told you 5 years ago how I felt then I could have had you, but I guess I missed my chance.”

“Who said that was your only chance?” You asked her and she looked at you confused. You walked up to her and wiped away the tear that’s rolling down her cheek. Her breath hitched when you did that, she wanted to get close to you again for almost 2 months now and to think it might happen, she just couldn’t think right now. She wants to respond, to make up for lost time, she doesn’t want to fuck it up and lose you again.

“Are you saying that you’re still willing to be with me?” She said and you nodded.

“I constantly thought about you as well, and you ended up in my dreams at night too. Almost like you were haunting me.” You joked and Melissa let out an airy chuckle. You touched your forehead with hers as you both basked in the happiness you felt of being near each other again.

“Y/N, I missed you so much, I regret ever letting you go.” You pulled back and cupped her cheeks.

“Then don’t let go now.” You told her and she wrapped her hands around your wrists while your hands were still cupping her cheeks.

“I won’t, I’m not going to make that mistake again.” And with that you leaned in and kissed her. She kissed you back almost immediately. You both felt safe , you felt at home. She moved her hands from your wrists and laid them on your waist. While you moved them from her cheeks to around her neck.

“Well it’s about time.” Barb said, smiling from the doorway, and you both backed away and looked at her. “I convinced everyone to pair you guys up so you would talk to each other and hopefully work it out, and looks like you do.” Barb said proudly and Melissa smiled.

“Thank you Barb.” Melissa said and then looked at you and pulled you to her and hugged you. She then pulled away and looked at your eyes. “I promise I won’t let you go.” She told you and you smiled at her.

And she said the same promise to you at the end of her vows on your wedding day.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @imaginesmultifandoms

[gluion]

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ kim taerae

kim taerae x reader, slight sung hanbin x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with taerae.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, hanbin is your ex, zhanghao and matthew appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ thought i'd make my official debut to zeroseblr with this lil piece that i absolutely love!! i hope you guys look forward to more zb1 fics from me :DD here's the original one if you're interested! if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last? 

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans, taking them away from the lives they’ve lived, everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of hanbin’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember hanbin’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, hanbin was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, eyes off the path as he met your gaze. “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and hanbin found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of hanbin was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with hanbin. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant hanbin would be with you.

still, time continues to move. hanbin knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and hanbin met zhanghao, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, hanbin was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others, save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to zhanghao, you and hanbin got to learn about how to find supplies in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. hanbin decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. zhanghao became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and zhanghao reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing hanbin fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, hanbin glanced at zhanghao, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but zhanghao kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting hanbin come back to you.

the wails that left you are enough to attract the infected. if only the infected were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to hanbin, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, zhanghao dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of hanbin, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, zhanghao saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to zhanghao, but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named taerae.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that hanbin left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out of your mouth. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, hanbin’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“hao, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since hanbin’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “taerae! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, zhanghao caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way hanbin did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of taerae’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails. 

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

taerae still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and taerae got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night came, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to taerae who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—zhanghao, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the fire that continued to burn. “we met zhanghao a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, taerae never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own. 

“i resented zhanghao after what happened.” you moved your gaze to taerae whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending hanbin’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows—together, for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw zhanghao,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told taerae that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you keep an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of zhanghao; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of hanbin you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, taerae listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and taerae found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than hanbin, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, taerae promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and taerae who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like a sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew the people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my hanbin.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of taerae’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he spoke of you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where hanbin and zhanghao now stay. your mouth turned dry as taerae’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber. the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing hanbin’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of hanbin being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save hanbin that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress. 

the voice was caught in your throat. how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of zhanghao that once caressed your face. the lips of hanbin that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were taerae’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

taerae took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps. when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you, and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is. 

half a year went by. taerae still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; taerae goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two—stolen glances, quiet giggles, linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and taerae decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm. 

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted the taerae’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun. 

taerae’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home, indulge in my hobbies, live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm, the movement of his chest against your back, the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since hanbin’s death, you considered it. 

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours. 

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival. you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named matthew, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and taerae grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of hanbin still lives?

but one glance at taerae was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin, but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” matthew asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met taerae’s for a split second—confusion, dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. taerae was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and matthew to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with taerae.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it cannot compare to how taerae shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. you couldn’t look at him. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward, refusing to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left taerae, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. matthew stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were taerae’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told matthew before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot. 

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and taerae found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached taerae’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how taerae’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him, his sister, and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a strawberry and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of red and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house. 

you then stood in front of your old house with taerae by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two. 

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and hanbin. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw taerae crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside hanbin with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside taerae. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind. 

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at taerae and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost hanbin, and 11 months since zhanghao told you his last words—but it was also 13 months spent with taerae, choosing to survive with him. 

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and hanbin; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from. 

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in taerae’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and taerae stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how taerae came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “taerae, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger, and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw taerae holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “taerae!” when he looked back at you, you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing taerae’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up. making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how taerae’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears. 

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“taerae!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as taerae was with you. 

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and taerae fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but taerae came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how taerae holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth, tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[lilbitdepressed27]

Cairo Sweet/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Death

WC: 3.3k

Author's note: sorry for any mistakes.

*This will be connected to another fic*

~

Cairo Sweet had been your best friend for a long time. And for the same amount of time you had spent so much time being helplessly in love with your best friend. You couldn't help but to be in love with the short girl. From the first moment you saw her, she had been sitting under a tree during recess and a boy had dimmed that too boring for recess. Stealing the book Cairo read and ignoring the please to hand it back. You had been playing soccer with your own friends, taking the moment you had the soccer ball to kick it hard towards the boy.

Taking the book as he feel to floor clutching his stomach as he cried. You remembered taking the book and giving it back to Cairo.

Since then you both had become inseparable from each other. You  honestly cherished the friendship with Cairo. Which is why you kept your feelings to yourself. Afraid of losing Cairo. You had been great at hiding your feelings. Never looking too long at Cairo. Never treating her too differently. She was still your best friend so she got bit of special attention sometimes.

You knew English class would be boring, and you did not like the teacher one bit. You knew Cairo was beautiful but to have this grown man watching her like she were a piece of meat had your jaw aching from how hard you were clenching it. Two weeks since the school year started and you weren't blind you saw the special treatment she got from the teacher. The subtle glances from the teacher as he watched Cairo.

It was disgusting for many reasons. One, he was older. Crazy old. Two, he was a teacher. Three, Cairo's teacher. Four, It was completely illegal and not to mention Cairo is his student. Five, HE WAS HER TEACHER.

You weren't jealous. You had accepted a long time ago that Cairo would never like you in that way. But you were put off by how Cairo basked in the attention she was getting from Mr.Miller.

"Y/n! Dude you're not gonna believe who the new soccer coach is." The voice of your friend who also happened to be your teammate brought you out of your head.

"What?"

"There's a new soccer coach?" Winnie asked from her side of the table. You had been enjoying your lunch when Winnie and Cairo started talking about Mr.Miller. You couldn't understand what about made Mr.Miller so attractive to Cairo. You had tuned them out the moment the teacher was mentioned.

"Yes! She's taking over our old coach that's on temporary leave due to her pregnancy. And oh my god Y/n! She's fucking gorgeous."

You chuckled at the way Alex (your soccer teammate) was acting. You did know that the soccer team would get a sub coach. "Well? What's her name?"

"Oh it's Ms.Pieterse. Come on! She's holding a meeting." Giving no chance for a reply she basically dragged you away.

*

Never had you been so in awe at someone's beauty. Well besides Cairo's. Never did you think someone that wasn't Cairo would make you feel like Ms.Pieterse. The past month she had been so beautifully supportive. Always making sure the girls on the team were trying hard. Making sure they were hydrated. And man did she look amazing in her shorts.

Also the past month did you not once think of Cairo, not in that way. That is. Your mind was occupied by the beautiful dirty blonde with gorgeous blue eyes. You tired not to think of her bin that way but it was hard not to. She's wasn't your teacher, she was just your coach. A 23 year old coach. A sub coach which wasn't that bad, all things considered.

With you being the captain of the soccer team you were always the first one on the field. Barely registering that Cairo and Mr.Miller were seating on the bleachers talking.

"Always early Y/n." Now that voice, you did register. Turning your head to see that smile, that dimpled smile directed at you.

With a smile of your own you looked at your coach. "Oh you know coach. I like to warm up before the practice actually starts."

"Well I can see why you're the star of this team. You did amazing last night."

Hoping she couldn't see the blush on your cheeks as you looked away, catching Cairo's eyes as she looked at you. Her eyes furrowed as she looked bothered. You weren't sure why. She was after all talking to the man she had a weird crush on.

"Please call me Sasha. Ms.Pieterse makes me feel old and I'm only twenty three."

Sasha? What a beautiful name. It suited her so well. The smile she directed to you had you feeling like the butterflies in your stomach were going to burst. You were sure she was just being friendly.

"So I heard you want to go to UCLA. I know the coach there if you want me to put in a good word for you."

"As much as I would appreciate and love that. I want to get in by my own doing. Thank you though Ms-Sasha."

A smile and what seemed to be a look of amazement was shot your way.

*

The relationship with your coach and blossomed from there. It first started with subtle glances. Hands grazing. Deep talks when alone together on the field. Then one day after a game you were had been alone in the locker room. Once thing lead to another and you shared a kiss with Sasha.

The relationship was a secret. One you told no one about. You tried to act the same not give away that you were dating your coach. Hoping no one could tell.

But Cairo could tell, you were acting strange. You no longer had time for her as much as you did before. Before, after your games or practice you'd go to her but now. Now you had this smile on your face she's never seen before. She didn't know why.

Her relationship with her teacher had been, weird. He had grown too attached to her. Always wanting to touch her. Always wanting to be around her outside of school. It was starting to make her uncomfortable. At first she won't deny, she loved the attention. She liked that this older man was putting her first over everything. But now, now she couldn't find the appeal. She didn't know how to stop this with Mr.Miller.

He wanted more. And she didn't want more. She didn't want anything from him. She's tried to leave him, tell them that what they were doing was wrong. But he didn't listen. Threatening to fail her and ruin her chances to apply to any college.

"Hey you okay?" You had been at Cairo's house with Winnie for the past hour and half. Although Winnie left a bit earlier than usual. As much as you loved spending time with Sasha,you knew you also had to make time for your friends. Keeping your relationship with your sub coach was easy. Date nights were always at her house and she lived in the middle of nowhere. Which was really easy for you to go to her house. Not having to worry about nosy neighbors.

"I...I need help."

"Okay." You looked down at her home work. Seeing it completely finished, everything looked right. You furrowed your eyebrows. "With what?" You looked back Cairo. Seeing her eyes misting with tears. For the first time in a long time. She looked scared and confused.

"Hey, talk to me. What's wrong?" Taking her hands in yours.

"He, he won't leave me alone. You were right. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I've tried to pull away from him but he won't let me. He's threaten me, said that if I leave him he will ruin my chances to go to college. I don't know what to-"

You were which to pull her into a hug, letting her cry out her fear and frustrations in to your shoulders. You felt anger, a protectiveness wash over you. You always hated that douche bag Mr.Miller.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

*

You had a plan. Confront him, piss him off enough where he says something about Cairo or something that incriminates himself, and record everything. But for this to work, you had Cairo not get to school early. Which she reluctantly agreed to.

Stepping into the room was a little nerve wracking but the moment you saw him going about behind his desk. The more pissed you grew, here he was calm as ever while Cairo grew more and more uncomfortable. With your back straighten, your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath and walked towards his desk.

"Ah Y/n what can help you with?"

All you wanted was to punch his face in. You stepped to be in front of his desk. "So here's what's gonna happen Miller. I know about your weird obsession with Cairo. And I know you've been having an inappropriate relationship with your student." You watched as his face changed. A satisfying smile now on your face.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I could get you suspended and off the soccer team with-With what exactly Mr.Miller? Talk to the principal about how I know about your little secret. Cause we can go now."

He slammed his hand down the desk, but you didn't even flinch. He was getting angry. You just had to keep pushing him.

"Get out of my class-No. I don't think you understand how much shit you're in Mr.Miller. The damage this could do to your reputation. I could just see it now 'Jonathan Miller, failed author turned teacher only to fail as a teacher as well.' Kinda funny ain't it?"

"They won't believe you. And she won't confess either. She won't risk her chances getting in college."

Just a little bit more.

"She'll get in college. Don't you worry about that. What I want to know what exactly are you going to do. Cause I'll go to the principal. Shit I'll go to the cops."

"She won't do it! She'll lie to cover for me! She loves me and I love her."

With a laugh let out of disbelief. You couldn't help but to think this man had clearly lost it, you were a little caught off guard when he bunched up the collar of your shirt. Pulling you close, his breath reeking of coffee.

"I love Cairo and she belongs to me."

The sound of a door being open he was quick to let me go.

"What's going on here?" You felt so much relief at hearing Sasha's concerned voice. You looked back at her and she was looking right at you. Her eyes filled with concern and what looked to be anger.

"Nothing. Just a little confusion is all Coach. Right Y/n?" His voice came out shaky, fear evident in his eyes as you looked back at him.

You didn't even answer him, walking towards Sasha. She saw the look in your eyes, and you hoped she understood. Once you were out of the class room. You felt the tension leaving your shoulders.

"Holy shit. Holy shit." You couldn't believe that you actually got him on camera admitting it. Your phone had been hidden in the chest pocket of your shirt. You quickly took out your phone and stopped the recording.

"Y/n what the hell is going on?"

"I'll tell you but not here."

She looked around and noticed that there were still no students around. Seeing as it was still a bit early. She took your hand and lead you to her office in the locker room. Shutting the door.

"Okay now spill."

You took out your phone and played her the recording. The more she listened and watched the more her jaw dropped. Only to clam shut, her jaw clenching when she saw how roughly he grabbed you. "That fucking asshole."

"I'm okay. But I have to show this to the principal."

*

The shit show that was the downfall of Jonathan Miller was crazy. He denied everything. Until the recording was played in a literal court room. He was fired. Black listed to never be able to teach again. A restraining order so he could never see Cairo. And to top it all off, his wife left him as well.

Cairo was safe now. And she had you to thank for that. Cairo now felt safe to go to class. She didn't know what she'd do with out you. There was one thing now. One thing, you had always been her best friend. Someone she could rely on. Someone she could trust. Someone that made her feel safe. Someone that told her everything. So when she applied and got into her dream college, you were the first one to know. She knew you both had different dreams. You had gotten into UCLA, a full scholarship to play for their soccer team.

Ever since Mr.Miller got fired and served a restraining order. She hadn't heard or seen him. Which she was grateful. She also took noticed that you had been more protective of her since then. And she loved it. The way you always made she was safe and comfortable where she was at. So when you came clean, and told her you were in a relationship. She was, hurt? Devastated.

She had finally told Winnie, needing someone to tell. She was completely in love with you. But she had let the fear of losing you take a hold of her. Cause now she was too late, and now you were happy. When you told her it was with coach Pieterse. The smile you had on your face when you told her how happy you were. You were happy and she let her chance pass.

"Cairo! Come here. I want to take some pictures." With summer almost being over, and you going to UCLA. She cherished all the moments she had with you. Even if it was just as friends. You were sat on the couch, with her phone in hand. Your beaming smile as you pulled her closer the moment she sat down. She had been too busy looking at you to notice that you had already taken the picture.

"Cai, you weren't even looking." You complained in such a way that had that longing, to grow. She wished that you loved her the way you loved Sasha. She wished she would have noticed the sooner of her feelings towards you. At the sound of the doorbell ringing she moved to stand up, her breath hitching at the warm sensation of your hand on her bare thigh. Stopping her from moving.

"I'll get it, it's probably the pizza."

*

The sound of shouting had her rushing out of the room. The shouting got louder, followed by what sounded like a struggle. Her pace picking up to get to you.

"You'll pay. You took EVERYTHING FROM ME!!"

The bone chill she got at hearing that voice. Turning the corner to see Jonathan on top of you. Punch after punch. She was quick to react. Grabbing her mother's vase and smashing it over his head. It was enough time to help you up. Your face was covered in blood, the fear she had doubled.

"Ah ah." The sound of a click loading had both of them freezing in their steps. "Turn around." You both turned around, your face hurt but the fear and adrenaline had you feeling nothing. Seeing the crazed man aiming his gun at you. You stood a bit in front of Cairo. Refusing to let this deranged man hurt her. You would have never thought he would do something like this.

"You two bitches took everything from me. This whore tried to to get with me. It wasn't in my head. I'm not a pervert. I loved you Cairo. We could had something. We could have been something. But now. Now you'll di—"

You didn't think. You didn't hesitate. You moved, the quickest you've ever had. He had been so in his head he failed to react as you tackled him to the floor. Fighting over the gun.

"Cairo call the police! Go!" You shouted, the gun fired and the noise made your ears ring. You hoped Cairo listened. You weren't sure if you could hold him off. The police station wasn't far from here. A good twenty minutes away.

The gun fired three more times. And this time you didn't just hear them. You felt them. The pain had you crying out but the hold you had on him tighten. Throwing to your head forward as you head butted him in the nose. You were able to get out from under him, never really realizing when you had gotten under him. You felt warm hands cupping your cheeks.

"Come on, get up. Please."

You had never seen Cairo cry like this. So you tried to get up, Cairo helping you the best she could.

"If I can't have you no one will." Jonathan was back up looking terrifying with all that blood coming down his face. His gun now pointed at Cairo.

It was like everything was slow motion, his finger hovering over the trigger as he moved to push down it. The gun going off, as the door bursted open. Shoving Cairo out of the way, the pain as you fell to the floor. The muffled noises as you lost blood, the muffled cries of Cairo as her blurry figure leaned over you. Pleading you wake up. Pleading you not to leave her.

Cairo was the last thing you saw before your world faded into darkness.

**

It was a cold rainy day, a month since that night. A month since you—. She was angry. She was pissed off. How dare you, leave her. How dare you sacrifice yourself for her. You were going to live your dream. A full scholarship to your dream college. A girl you loved.

Looking down at your tombstone. Flowers all around from friends, family, people you barely knew and teachers. She cried, and cried every single time. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't cry for the love she lost. Regretting never building the courage to tell you how she really felt.

"She loved you, you know."

Hearing her voice made her want to cry more. She took you away from her. Ruined Sasha's chances to live happily with you. She knew you wouldn't want her to blame herself. But it was all she could think about.

"As a friend."

The young coach sat next to her, not caring that she was going to get wet as well. "No, she was in love with you. She had accepted that you would never return her feelings, she pushed and pushed those feelings away. Scared that you would find out and be uncomfortable around her."

You were in love with her? This new information had crying even harder. She really was oblivious and such a dumbass.

"This isn't your fault. And you know Y/n wouldn't want you to be blaming your self either." Silence followed. She knew that Sasha was right. You were so selfless. Always thinking of others over yourself.

"Live your life Cairo. For yourself and for Y/n."

In this life you weren't hers. But you were her best friend. And she will live her life to the fullest. Live the life that you deemed right to live over your own. Maybe in another life you would have stayed with her.

:(

[mothwingwritings]

There’s Honey On The Moon Tonight

F!Reader X Kaoru Hanayama

Maaaaan it’s been so long and I am SO sorry. I kinda got out of my groove for a bit and life got overwhelming and draining, hence the radio silence. I wanted to come back with a little fic to get me back into the swing of things and since I have wanted to write for Hanayama for some time, this came about. It was based around a yandere prompt I saw that was “I love you so much, you have no idea what limits I would go to prove that to you.” I actually started writing this for Jack, had all kinds of issues, and decided to write it for Hanayama instead lol. I may still possibly post the little Jack fic I plucked at, but I am overall pretty meh about it so we’ll see. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I really want to work on writing some shorter stuff for a while. I am so in awe of all of you that can churn out these small masterpieces. My ass does NOT know when to shut up and when I start to write my brain is like no… You must explain EVERYTHING, which (whether my mind believes it or not) is not something that needs to be done. ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) So going through a lot of trying to unlearn that.

ANYWAY I will be quiet and leave this hear for your perusal. It is my gift for coming home (finally) and working to get back up to speed! Thank you all for reading anything I write, and thank you if you like it! I am constantly floored by how wonderful you all are, and I appreciate anyone that reads my stuff more than you all know. (╥﹏╥)

This fic is set a few years in the future, you and Hanayama are both adults and at this point he is even more of a Yakuza big shot. You play the starring role of his forced little mob princess wife, isn’t that sweet? I love romance! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

WARNINGS: Yandere, very dubcon (dare I say even noncon?), power imbalances, grooming, unwanted touching/kissing/heavy petting, forced marriage, mentions of violence and hints of cruelty, mentions of sex.

Some people may call this ‘the dream life’.

Sitting on this private beach, you soaked in the last of the sun’s rays before it dipped beyond your view. The world was bathed in a swirl of pinks and oranges as the sun sunk into the sea, the gentle lap of the waves coming so close the water nearly touched your toes. The sand beneath your feet was soft, still warmed by the quickly setting sun. Gulls cooed as they circled above you, the flap of their wings diminishing as they began to fly off for the night. You were envious of them as you watched them soar freely, pained by how easily they could fly away to their home.

If only you could be so lucky.

Drops of salt water dotted your arms, mingling with what was left of your sunscreen. Though you had long since applied it, the remnants of the lotion and sea water left a slightly uncomfortable film on your skin, flaking under your nails when you scratched at it. A gust of wind blew, sending a chill through you. Absentmindedly you wondered if despite your preparations, you had been burned.

“Do you plan to stay out here all night?”

Your breath caught in your throat, an all too familiar voice shattering the tranquility of the evening. You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the lumbering form coming up behind you, his arrival marking the end of your solitude.

Another gust of wind blew causing you to shudder once more. As it whipped wildly around you, your body grew colder. It was an unwelcome feeling, especially when just moments ago you were surrounded by such blissful warmth.

If only you could have just a few more minutes to yourself…

It had been a peaceful day, the nicest one you had had on this little honeymoon of yours. Kaoru Hanayama, your newly appointed husband, had been occupied most of the day, leaving you to your own devices.  The peace that awarded was something you sorely needed, seeing as none of this was anything you had ever agreed to willingly.

But now that he had returned all the contentment you had felt moments prior had been drained away, the joy of this island paradise tainted by his unwanted presence.

The night Kaoru proposed he had told you that he could not imagine living a life without you by his side, that his love for you had grown so rampantly that he could no longer bear the thought of not having you officially. He had long since coerced you into being his lover, leaving marriage the logical next step. Brandishing a ring so extravagant it bordered on gaudy, Kaoru got down on one knee. The upper echelon of the Hanayama group surrounded you in a constricting, tight circle, each set of eyes on you fixated on the scene with great interest… Thinking back on it, you had no idea how you didn’t pass out from sheer anxiety.

At that point, you were doomed to become his blushing, beautiful bride.

To you, Kaoru was husband in name only. This marriage would be just another trial that had been forced upon you since meeting the man, his ceaseless infatuation continually ripping your life asunder.  Needless to say, when he was off doing some important ‘family’ related things that ate up the majority of the day you didn’t have many complaints about his absence.

When he had departed this morning you did your best to look forlorn as he kissed you goodbye, shoulders slightly slumped as he ducked through the door, off to do god knows what to god knows who. Even as his now wife, you were never made privy to his ‘business’ dealings. So much of his life was shrouded in mystery, and you were just fine keeping it unknown.

You preferred when Kaoru was bogged down by work. If he was otherwise preoccupied that meant you had no expectation to be latched to his side, forced to play the role of obedient, doting wife. You abhorred the part you played in his life almost as much as you detested the man himself. It took years of whittling you down, making you shed piece after piece of yourself until you were everything he envisioned you would be, his perfect partner. He had molded you into his ideal love, and even though you knew you were sinking to a depth you were unsure you could ever escape, there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was hard going against a man who had the whole Yakuza at his fingertips, and the threat someone of Hanayama’s caliber posed against your family and friends was too high to risk insubordination.

So you acquiesced to his heavy handed flirting, playing along with his awkward and curt stabs at romance. You dropped everything for Hanayama, not because you wanted to, but because he expected it. And if there was one thing you gleaned about the mob life these past few years, it was what the boss wanted, the boss got.

He needed you in every way he could have you. You never had the option of saying no.

A heavy sigh came from behind you, annoyance radiating from your husband when you didn’t acknowledge him. Despite the irritation, the words he spoke came surprisingly gentle. “It’s time to come inside, (name). Dinner has arrived, it will be ready for us shortly.”

You wrapped your towel tightly around your shoulders, and with a deep shuddering breath, rose to your feet.

~

Silence hung heavy over the dinner table.

The meal Hanayama had served was nothing short of gourmet. ‘Only the finest for the finest’ was something he once joked to you, but he held firm to that ideal with every aspect of your life. The Oyabun’s wife was spared no expense, why would your meals be any different?  A caterer must have come with him to set the table up when Kaoru first arrived home, as it was set in a way that was far too charming for just him to pull off. Flowers and delicate candles garnished the surface, giving the whole room a romantic feel. Condiments and spices stood within arm’s reach, concealed in aesthetically pleasing containers, ready to season the cuisine as you saw fit.

Sighing lightly, you raised your glass for another sip of champagne. Even with the pretty presentation, you lacked the appetite to enjoy the meal. Picking at it lazily, you swirled the food around to make it appear as though you had eaten more than you had, like a child desperate to meet their parent’s approval so they could leave the table.

“Aren’t you hungry,” Kaoru’s deep voice finally interjected, his own feasting halted to shoot you a questioning glance. “You’ve barely touched your dinner. I thought you liked this restaurant? I chose to cater from them to please you.”

“Sorry,” You gave him a forced smile, “The food is delicious, but I think I may have snacked too much today, so I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

You always had to choose your words carefully with Kaoru, his doting had a tendency to become overbearing if he believed you to be suffering from any ills. The last thing you needed was him fretting over you missing a dinner.  “I’ll have to box it up soon, that way I’ll have something to look forward to tomorrow.”

He grunted in response and an uneasy quiet once more loomed over the table. Hanayama did not seem totally appeased by your excuse, and refrained from placing his focus back on his meal. Dark, steely eyes bore holes into you as you sat hunched over, fixing your focus on anything but him.

“(Name)...”

He waited a moment before continuing, a look of brief tension flashing across his features.

“I know you are upset with me for leaving you alone all day, but you must know that I am sorry… Will you forgive me?”

To most people, this would be a shocking sight. It was highly unusual for a man like Kaoru Hanayama to be asking forgiveness so modestly, in fact, you were more apt to be groveling at his feet begging mercy than ever hearing the man beg pardon.

But things were different with you, they always had been. Try as he might to harden the soft spot he had for you, he never could seem to bring himself to give you the same detached treatment he gave others. And while his love for you was something he quite proudly displayed, he also refused to let his affections make either of you a target.

Being the Oyabun’s cherished wife put you in danger, his devotion to you making your demise extremely appealing to his enemies. The knowledge that your death would be a huge blow to the indomitable Hanayama was not lost on any who opposed him, but the problem laid in ever getting close to you. He certainly made it hard for anyone trying, finding a moment when you weren’t glued to his side was rare, finding you completely alone even more so.

However catching you by your lonesome was not entirely impossible, and leaving you vulnerable and ripe for assaulting was not something Kaoru could live with.

To combat this threat, he chose to lock you away so that no one could hurt you, touch you, see you, or ever be near enough to harm you. You were his and his alone, and he would let no other soul take you from him.

Ever since you had become ‘official’, the only people besides Hanayama ever allowed to have any correspondence with you were his closest inner circle and occasionally your family. But even then, Kaoru made sure he was always close by to monitor, hovering near to insure nothing untoward or upsetting could happen to you.

In your mind, the isolation hardly seemed necessary. No one ever questioned Hanayama’s might-one look at the man was all you needed to ascertain that he was a terrifyingly powerful figure. When you were in his vicinity your safety became his only care, any risk to that transforming him into a downright beast, bloodthirsty and rage filled beyond compare. Any unfortunate idiot wandering your way who held even a smidge of bad intent was in for a world of excruciating pain, followed by a slow and agonizing death.

But alone, in your own shared space away from prying eyes and hidden dangers, traces of that monster were nowhere to be found. When it’s just the two of you, Kaoru lets himself be overcome with his fondness for you, serenity overtaking his brute side. This display of vulnerability, these small moments of sickening intimacy, he saves solely for you, blanketing them upon you in suffocating layers until you can scarcely breathe.

“It was wrong of me to do,” He reached across the table, his thick hand encompassing yours in a tight grip. “A matter required my utmost attention, but it was not fair to leave my wife at any point during our honeymoon. This time is reserved for you and me alone, and I went against that. I just want you to know that I only left because I had to, and that I hurried back the moment I was able. I hope you can forgive me.”

If you could have done so consequence free, you would have burst out laughing. Of all the wrongs Hanayama had committed against you, giving you breathing room was the most minor of offences.

“It’s alright Kaoru,” you shook your head, keeping your voice even “I understand, and I’m not upset at you. I spent most of my day out enjoying the ocean while you had to get work done, so really I’m the one who should feel sorry for you in this situation, right?”

He smiled at your jest, a sparkle in his eyes as they drank you in.

“You are always my top priority,” Releasing your hand, he went to cup your cheek, engulfing the entirety of it. His calloused thumb pressed in a bit too hard as he stroked you, scratching at the soft skin of your cheeks apple. His hold was deeply uncomfortable, but you dared not move. “Don’t forget that, (name). Never question how much I treasure you.”

A chill ran through you at the intensity of his words, the rough feel of his palm reminding you of each violation his hands had ever committed against you. You watched as his eyes darted to your lips, a different kind of hunger overtaking his expression as he began to lean towards you, eager for a kiss. In a slight panic, you readjusted yourself, creating a moment to break away.  

“W-well, I really need to get this boxed up,” you spoke, pushing off the table until you were standing. Hanayama’s hand lingered in the air for a brief moment, still savoring the memory of holding you. An aggravated look flashed through his eyes, but was gone as quick as it came. “I don’t want to keep it out too long or else it will go bad. I’ll go grab a box.”

If there was going to be a time to escape him for the evening, this was it. You sprang into action, darting around the table as you made your way to the kitchen. The faster you could box up this meal, the faster you could excuse yourself and leave the room while Hanayama took his time finishing. Though it only would buy you a few minutes of privacy in the long run, any time to yourself was worth the effort.

But just before you could completely round the table, a tight grip around your waist snatched you from your course. In an instant you were tugged to the side, plucked up and planted until you were straddling one of your husband’s girthy legs.

Before your brain could even fully register what had happened, he was on you. Desirous, sloppy kisses littered your face as a salacious grin spread across his lips, a low growl rumbling from his chest with each smack of his lips. Your head was spinning at the speed it all occurred, a protesting whine all you could muster as his lips feverishly claimed yours.

Sweat mingled with the scent of his cologne, the heady scent a sign that his actions were quickly and effectively getting him riled up. Overcome with the essence of him, you could do little to fight his intrusion of your personal space, your balled fists pressing against his chest doing all they could to try and create distance. His tongue worked violently, the muscle forcing itself inside you until you were nearly choking on it. Your whole body was thrumming with discontent over how quickly Hanayama came to control your every sensation, his sheer mass totally overpowering all that you were.

The feverish grip he had on your hips kept you rooted, grasping you as if you were his lifeline. Bruises were already starting to form around the press of his fingers, your flesh searing in his hot hold. His hands began to forcibly gyrate your body, rocking you against his leg so that the short skirt you donned had ridden up completely, the sheer fabric of your panties the only thing keeping you from the raw friction of his leg. Your breath hitched as he jostled you against him, small pulses of unwanted pleasure resulting from the action.

His lips parted from yours, moving to latch on your neck. A dull ache emanated from the area he sucked, the bruises he had marked you with days prior not yet completely healed. Without warning, he bit into the tender flesh, causing you to jolt. A dark chuckle rumbled from within him at your response, his tongue laving up the small trail of blood the fresh wound had inflicted.

“My pretty wife,” he murmured in your ear, brushing the straps of your top off your shoulders, “Being apart from you made this day seem never ending. I longed for the moment I could come back and have you all to myself.”

He grabbed one of your hands off his chest, trailing it down his body until coming to a rest on the growing bulge of his crotch. He released a shuddering breath as he thrust against your unwilling palm, his hand guiding yours to trail his length through his tightening pants. Dread gripped you as he began to harden under your touch, his already impressive size growing with each hesitant stroke. Feeling him throb beneath you made your stomach turn, a horrible precursor to the pain you were about to endure.

“Feel what you do to me?” He rasped in your ear, hot breath fanning your neck, “This is all for you.”

“Please Kaoru, I-” Your meek voice began to object, but was cut off by another domineering kiss.

“You don’t have to beg me,” his voice was growing more ragged, breathing becoming choppier the harder he grinded your body against his, “Let me spoil you tonight, it’s the least my beautiful wife deserves for being such a good, patient girl for me.”

Unable to stand the torment of your touches any longer, he stood, throwing you over his shoulder in a display you could almost call barbaric. Making his way towards the bedroom, he smacked your ass harshly, eliciting a pleased hum at the pained gasp the act had garnered.

“I was going to offer dessert after our meal, but you have presented something much sweeter to me,” he chuckled as he entered the bedroom, tossing you to the awaiting bed, “And what you offer is something I would much rather devour.”

Tears stung your eyes as you watched Kaoru begin to shed his clothing, his scarred body coming more into view with each piece of fabric he cast aside.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, lust dripping from his features. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, before shooting you a cocky grin, “I can wait no longer. I love you so much, and you have no idea the limit’s I’ll go through to prove that to you.”

He took a step forward, inching his way up the bed, “But tonight, I don’t intend to stop until you understand.”

[underdark-dreams]

Incredibly excited to finally start releasing this into the wild!!

After my 2-part Rolan x Tav fic Good Night For Company, I really wanted to write a longer continuation of their story set in Act 3. And at last, here is the first chapter--multiple others planned! (With more romance soon to follow)

Note: this chapter explores darker themes than my usual work. I encourage you to check the AO3 tags if you have any doubts. They will be updated regularly 🖤

A Strand to Climb - Ch.1

Two very different heroes find themselves in Baldur's Gate at last. All Tav can think about is seeing a certain apprentice wizard again, but Rolan finds himself trying to push her away.

Tags: Angst, Physical Abuse, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 2,840 [Read on AO3]

Lorroakan liked to make Rolan wait. 

He was a man who enjoyed toying with people, and Rolan found himself the newest and current favorite toy in the archwizard’s collection. He tipped his head back to gaze up at the criss-crossing arches in the high ceiling of Ramazith’s Tower, trying to occupy his mind away from the fatigue pooling in the soles of his feet. 

Tonight’s lesson should have begun half an hour ago. He knew better than to move from his usual spot on the fine carpet, however.

Whatever Cal or Lia might think, Rolan was no blind idiot. 

He hadn't gotten this far in life without a bitter skepticism about human nature. He'd filed away every rumor he heard about Lorroakan on the road from Elturel, though he hadn’t given them any weight at the time.

The revelation that the man was even worse than what he'd heard was…a disappointment, to be sure. And a complication. 

But it did nothing to change his path or his determination to succeed. Apprenticeships with archwizards didn't drop out of the sky, even with ones as worthless and vapid as Lorroakan. Especially not to a student with Infernal blood.

And Rolan could be very patient when he put his mind to it. He’d waited many years to find himself standing here in Ramazith’s Tower, hadn’t he? He could survive another year or two as Lorroakan’s apprentice. 

Rolan gathered the thoughts around him like armor where he stood in the center of the cavernous room, awaiting the arrival of his master. 

As if on cue, the rushing portal sounded behind him as Lorroakan himself swept into the room.

“I understand my apprentice has been pawing through the merchandise.”

Entering rooms with a full sentence was another of Lorroakan’s favorite tactics. Though he expected it by now, Rolan still found himself thrown off balance by the words for a moment—no doubt their intended purpose. His mind raced to grasp what he was being accused of before he looked to his master.

Lorroakan stood on the step before him with lips drawn into the hint of a smile, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. The man was angry.

Rolan kept his voice calm and careful. “Master Lorroakan, I should have explained. Two of Aradin’s men managed to get past the guards several nights ago, raiding for valuables. It took some time to salvage the scrolls they damaged in the process.”

“I see. And as a result, you took it upon yourself to give Klank a little upgrade, did you?”

Performing magic in the shop outside of Lorroakan’s direct orders—a mistake. “Yes, Master,” Rolan replied reluctantly.

“How clever,” said Lorroakan above him. But he didn’t sound like he thought it was clever at all.

“I know what a nuisance they’ve been to you, Master Lorroakan.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy—”

As he spoke, Rolan felt a foreign presence prodding at the corners of his mind. There were few spells Lorroakan had demonstrated complete mastery of thus far—but the ritual for detecting thoughts was certainly among them. 

Rolan knew he would face a far worse punishment than whatever was coming if he resisted. Instead, fighting all his natural instincts, he let his mind’s defenses go slack.

Lorroakan’s consciousness pierced through his own, rough and careless. It rapidly shoved through his thoughts then withdrew just as abruptly. Rolan held back a wince of discomfort at the treatment.

His master’s eyes narrowed at him, that placid smile still on his lips. 

"On your knees," Lorroakan instructed silkily.

As his body obeyed in silence, Rolan felt churning bile and indignant pride rise in his throat. If Lorroakan hoped all these trials would break Rolan's spirit, he'd find they were having the opposite effect.

Lorroakan’s voice was dangerously even. "Although I’ve expressly forbidden it, you decided to avail yourself of a bit of private study from the scroll stock while you were at it. Outside my wishes."

Though Rolan kept his eyes down on the carpet below, he heard the rustle of Lorroakan’s robes as he began to circle him. Like a cat with a mouse.

“Forgive me, Master,” Rolan said down to the floor. “I only reviewed the spells you’ve seen fit to instruct me in.” 

A second mistake.

“Oh?” Lorroakan’s voice dripped with fresh venom. “And is my instruction insufficient?”

Yes. Completely fucking useless. “No, Master Lorroakan. I only know how short your time is with more important matters…locating the Nightsong. I hoped to perfect what you’ve taught me, to arrive better prepared for your lessons.”

Surely that was sufficient for his ego? Rolan dared to hope so as Lorroakan’s steps came to a halt in his periphery.

Without warning, the red wizard's palm connected with the soft dip of his temple.

Defenses still down from his earlier mental invasion, Rolan's body jerked sideways; he caught himself with sharp nails into the carpet. The blow rang deafening and shrill between his ears.

"—suffer insolence, boy," Lorroakan was warning somewhere above him as Rolan's hearing returned. "And put those filthy claws away. Are you a man or a beast?"

"Yes, Master," Rolan gasped, hardly knowing whether he should agree or say no. The pain in his skull overwhelmed his senses in a way that must have translated as meekness. 

Lorroakan sighed, the way one might at a dear but misbehaving pet.

"Young Rolan," he tutted. "Still so willful. So much yet to learn from my wealth of knowledge. And I am generous…"

As he spoke, his polished boots moved closer into Rolan’s downturned field of vision, and Rolan felt the archmage's soft fingers under his chin guiding his gaze upwards.

This was always the very worst part. Rolan would willingly take a dozen more blows if he could avoid what came after. 

Instead, he witnessed the gleam of satisfaction in Lorroakan's eyes as he examined his past weeks' handiwork on his apprentice's face—as if the sight brought him a deep pleasure that verged on carnal. Rolan's insides turned over in disgust.

"Yet even my favorite apprentice must be trained, must be disciplined." Lorroakan's words were silky soft, but his thumb and forefinger gripped into Rolan's chin with bruising force. "You'll stay to reorganize the abjuration wing tonight, alphabetically by subject."

Rolan nodded mutely, as much as Lorroakan's grip allowed. He had just finished reordering them all by title a few days ago. But what did it matter anymore?

At least his penance appeared to have cut the evening short. Lorroakan released him without a backwards glance. 

As the archmage swept away toward the portal to take his leave, Rolan got to his feet as slowly as he could manage. He ran hands down his robes, hoping the scuffs on his knees would come out with some careful spellwork. This was the only set he had.

By the time he raised his eyes to look around, Lorroakan was gone. One of the metal Myrmidons shuffled aimlessly near the railing, quite harmless without its master's direction. Lorroakan controlled them, but he hadn’t created them; Rolan had gathered that early. 

Alone again, Rolan let out a pent-up breath. Then he turned toward the towering case of books and scrolls on abjuration. 

He'd be able to touch them, he knew, but turning a single page would result in a painful rebuke. The nerves in his right hand smarted in memory of the first and last time he'd been stupid enough to try.

Of the vast wealth of texts contained in his tower—how many of their spines had Lorroakan actually cracked open? For an archmage, he was profoundly lacking in a desire for learning, among many other qualities. The wealth of this place was wasted on one like him.

A memory came back to Rolan from the Druid's Grove, a time and place that felt several lifetimes ago now. Gale, her erudite wizard, asking him to repeat Lorroakan's name. Making those insinuations that got Rolan's hackles up in defense for his new master—and for his own judgment. 

Rolan should have listened to the words from an older and clearly wiser mind.

Would it have changed anything in the end? He'd reverently carried Lorroakan's invitation with him all the way from Elturel. No matter what he heard, there was never a chance he might have walked away from the offer. 

But he might feel like less of a fool.

Hot shame rose in Rolan’s throat. If only Tav and her wizard could see him now, he thought bitterly. The fresh bruise forming at his temple throbbed as if to punctuate the idea. Rolan pushed up the sleeves of his robe and set to work.

—

Though it was only her first morning in Baldur’s Gate proper, Tav found that her list of urgent tasks had grown longer than ever.

There was the spate of gruesome murders, the rival thieves’ guilds warring in the underground, the freshly ordained archduke and his formidable army of Steel Watchers. Not to mention the little problem of a godlike Elder Brain that had begun to test its weakened chains. 

Tav had always thought of herself as a patient person. But these past few days, her companions all seemed to be tugging her in opposite directions. Everyone was irritable and on edge, herself included.

After Lae’zel and Astarion had nearly drawn on each other over the campfire last night—a row over what to do with the cambion’s latest offer of a deal—Tav snapped. She made the executive decision that they all needed a day away from each other to clear their heads.

Yet rather than pursue any of her many important leads, here she was loitering alone in front of the message board outside Basilisk Gate.

A good bit of it was taken up with Enver Gortash’s face, looking every bit the messiah he was definitely not. There were other notices: Flaming Fist enlistment posters, a few hand-written notes for missing persons. More likely unfortunate victims in the city’s recent murder spree. 

She found her eye uselessly searching for another name altogether. It was probably stupid—did wizards usually announce their new apprentices to the public?

Just as she’d made up her mind to move on, Lorroakan’s own name caught her eye. Tav tore the pamphlet down from the board.

‘Seeking Information About the Nightsong! Report Findings to Archwizard Lorroakan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower in the Upper City, Famed and Illustrious Mage of the Sword Coast.’

Unease bloomed in her stomach. What did an archwizard want with Dame Aylin? 

She turned the paper over, looking for anything besides vague details. Nothing on the notice said anything about capture or forcible delivery, but there was a reward printed in large type at the bottom of the page.

Her brows descended at the figure. Something about the size of it only increased her sense of foreboding.

Though she’d planned to make her way to Ramazith’s Tower to see Rolan as soon as she possibly could, perhaps now she had another reason to pay it a visit.

“Hey, Tav!”

She looked around at the sound of her name. Lia stood on the top step from the Basilisk Gate barracks, a slim scroll in her hand. She followed Tav's eyes to the parchment.

“Enlistment papers,” she explained, tucking them in her belt as she descended the stairs. “They’re no Hellriders, but it’s a decent job. Plus I heard some mad cult is planning to march an army down on our heads. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Lia added with a wry smile.

Somehow Tav was relieved to hear Lia could joke about it. It lightened some of the weariness in her own chest. She hastily pocketed the reward pamphlet—though she thought Lia’s eyes followed the motion. Then she rounded to return the smile.

“Gods, is it good to see a friend,” she admitted. “How are you, Lia?”

“You mean besides the constant threat of murder and war, and the stupid comments about my horns? Alright, considering,” Lia chuckled.

Tav felt a prickle of anger. She supposed that was a common experience for Tieflings, but that only made it worse somehow.

Lia caught her mood. “Don’t worry about it. We certainly don’t. Besides, it’s loads better here than it ever was back home.”

Tav moved the conversation along. She asked after Cal—trying to avoid immediately turning the subject to Rolan. Even though her heart ached to know how he was. Rolan and his siblings had taken the direct path from Moonrise to the Lower City, no doubt reaching it weeks before her own party had made their winding way toward the gates.

Lia was clever enough to realize what she was doing. Tav’s close relationship with Lia’s older brother was anything but a secret at this point, after all. But the younger woman played along politely for the moment.

When they were all out of other topics to catch up on, Tav did her best to sound as casual as possible. “How’s our brilliant apprentice getting along?”

Lia’s face changed at the question. Her brow flew into a scowl, and the muscle in her jaw tightened. 

“I don't talk to him about it anymore,” she snapped.

Tav blinked in surprise, but the feeling was quickly replaced by concern. “What is it?”

Lia looked around for a moment, as if worried someone might be listening to overhear. She moved down a few steps to stand with arms crossed beside Tav.

“Look…Rolan’s proud,” she said in a low voice. “You know that well as I do. He won't ever give me or Cal a straight answer about it. But Tav, seriously? I'm not sure he's been taught a damn thing yet. Rolan always gets upset when me or Cal come by the Sundries. Like he’s scared of someone seeing us there. And every time I’ve been in, Lorroakan’s got him working the stupid counter instead of studying. And his—”

Tav was hanging on every word by the time Lia abruptly cut herself off. The two of them shared a long look.

“I don't think he’s treating Rolan well,” Lia told her. Her nails dug into the fabric of her sleeves. “I know he isn't.”

“Not treating him well how?” The concern had grown to a snake of worry coiling through Tav’s insides. 

Lia’s hands continued fidgeting over her arms. She glanced away behind the curtain of her hair, as if regretting how much she'd said. 

“Listen, just—just go talk to Rolan. Please? You should hear it from him. If he won't listen to us, maybe he’ll listen to you. Don't think he could ever tell you no,” Lia added with a weak smile, an expression that was more pained than anything.

An ominous feeling swirled around in Tav’s brain, muddling the tail end of their conversation. Her head nodded along automatically as Lia gave an invitation to her and Cal’s flat in Heapside Strands, but her ears barely caught the street name.��

Once Lia had given her a quick one-armed hug and departed, Tav stood hardly knowing where she was. A Flaming Fist jostled past her shoulder from the barracks with a backwards comment about loitering in byways. 

She hardly heard the man. Her mind was filled with images of Rolan; proud, hopeful, excited for his future. Had this Lorroakan done something to spoil the dream he’d fought so hard to achieve?

As Tav’s hand brushed against the reward pamphlet in her pocket, the fingers there clenched into a fist. The other closed tight around the hilt of the longsword resting in her scabbard.

Whatever it was, something was wrong here. Very wrong. She was tempted to march straight into Sorcerous Sundries, find Rolan, and demand the truth out of him. And if he put on his stubborn act, she could think of a few very pleasant ways to get honest answers from his lips.

But what if he was somehow in danger from this archwizard?

That thought brought her up short. Lia’s voice before had held a hint of fear; not an emotion she’d know Lia to express lightly. Perhaps rushing into the situation blind would risk causing Rolan more harm than good.

Tav felt her pulse pound at the thought of putting him in danger. She let out a breath, trying to clear her head of the tangle of emotions. None of them would help her make a sound decision. As much as she might want to, she shouldn’t go racing off straight to Ramazith’s Tower.

And she shouldn’t go alone. If some kind of trouble was waiting there—increasingly likely when she considered Lorroakan’s cryptic interest in the Nightsong—she would need her companions with her. And they were currently spread out gods-knew-where across the city. 

Though her heart fought against it, the logical choice was clear. The wisest course would be to leave this for tomorrow.

In the morning, they would pay a visit to Ramazith’s Tower…and Tav would finally get the measure of this archwizard for herself.

[deanwritings]

Capeesh?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: So excited you're back! Can I request a protective/jealous!Dean x reader fic with an established relationship? Vibes of "don't touch her" would be much appreciated 😅

Summary: A fun night out at the bar takes a turn for the worse when a handsy patron approaches the reader.

Word Count: 1,928

Warning: Descriptions of violence & self defense related injuries. Cussing, if that bothers you.

Gif:

A/N: Years ago I went to a gym with my dad and the trainer/owner, this HUGE muscle head and really sweet man, gave me a free self defense class, which I still keep in mind to this day and peppered into this story.

And Happy New Year's y'all!

You lean against Dean as you take a sip of your beer, Dean's hand resting against your waist as you both politely listen to Sam as he shares a new piece of lore he learned during your latest hunt. You nod along, slightly intrigued with what Sam's found, but really wishing he could have saved the shop-talk for a time you weren't trying to unwind. Your body was still sore from the arachne fight, and you could use a break from all things hunting, even if it was just for a night. You can't see Dean's face from your vantage point, but if you had to guess, your boyfriend was likely staring his brother down with a straight face hoping he'll shut up.

You tip your bottle back again, but are disappointed when only a few drops trickle out. You give the bottle a little shake as you look through the brown glass, confirming with yourself that it was in fact empty.

You place the bottle down and step away from Dean, his hand falling from your waist. At the movement, Dean looks down at you and frowns.

"Be right back, need a new beer." You tap the glass as your straighten up from the high-top table. "Anyone need anything?"

Both brothers shake their heads and you make your way over to the bar, thankful for a break from the earful of arachne lore.

It's a fairly busy evening for Wednesday night, most tables occupied and the bar itself swimming with patrons. Luckily, you eye an opening just big enough for you to squeeze into and you step into the space. After a few moments, one of the bartender spots you as you rest your hands against the slightly sticky bar top and gives you a nod as he pours a blue liquor into a cocktail shaker.

You purse your lips as you look around the room, the crowd mostly older, with a few twenty-somethings mixed in. It seemed to be the only bar in town when you had Google Maps a spot earlier, so you weren't surprise that this seemed to be the local's go-to pub.

Your gaze falls back to the bar, taking in the bottle labels on the tiered shelves as your nails tap against the wood beneath them.

Jameson. Crown Royal. Bacardi. Bacardi Tropical. That's a new one.

A man brushes besides you as he steps into the very small space that had been open on your right. You look up at him and frown, quietly expressing your annoyance at the invasion of your person space. You get it's crowded, but the guy could have just waited behind you or someone else until a space opened up.

Rude much.

But rather than be turned off by your vexed welcome, the man just smiles down at you.

You huff and roll your eyes, looking for the bartender, his back to you as he appears to be serving two cocktails to a pair of older women.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The man next to you raises his voice over the noise of the crowd, leaning in towards you to make sure his question is heard.

His smile is still plastered over his pale face, his blonde hair shaggy over his forehead. You just glare up at him, your annoyance growing as it appears the man is incapable of reading social cues.

You see the bartender approach you, and you turn your shoulder away, squaring yourself up to the bar.

"Just a Bud Light, bottle, please." The bartender nods at you and turns to squats down at the fridge casing all the bottles.

"How about a name?" Warm breath tickles your ear, and your shoulder scrunches up at the sudden closeness as your stomach tightens.

The bartender places the beer back in front of you and asks a question with his eyes.

"The Winchester tab, thanks." The guy nods and and punches the drink into the POS.

You turn to walk away when that pestering voice calls out again.

"Winchester, huh?" You take a deep breath and turn to face the thorn in your side. "How about a first name?" His elbow leans against the bar and his eyebrow is raised at you. His grey t-shirt stretches across his chest at his position and he continues to smile at you.

He's looks like the poster boy for punchable assholes.

"Since you seem to be too dumb to figure it out on your own, let me spell it out for you." You smile tightly at him. "I'm not fucking interested." You feel your eyes crinkle along the edges as your lips tighten.

Finally, his smile falls, and he straightens up.

"Cunt," he spits.

Ah, there it is.

"You know it." Your forehead rises as you raise your beer and take a drink before turning on your heel.

As you approach your table, Dean is standing at attention, his jaw tight.

"All good?" You come alongside him, your shoulders brushing.

You look up at him and smile, genuinely.

You weren't surprised he was watching the interaction. Dean usually had his eye on you if you weren't by his side. You weren't sure if he knew that you knew he was always watching. When you first started dating, it had bothered you. It made you feel like Dean thought you couldn't handle yourself. But the more Dean opened up to you, you realized that it was just a part of Dean he was never going to shake; he had to know that his loved ones were safe, no matter where they were. A lifetime of losing everyone you've ever loved will do that to a man.

"Nothing I can't handle." You bump his shoulder and his body relaxes with a sigh. His jaw loosens and his smile returns as he throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.

Another two beers later, ones that Dean insisted he get, your bladder was uncomfortably full, and you excused yourself to the bathroom.

The bathroom was in the very back of the bar away from the crowds, and as you washed your hands, you took a moment to appreciate the quietnesses. You loved bars and going out drinking with Sam and Dean; it was one of the few normal things you did in your lives. But it was nice to take a break from the noise and masses to reset before you threw yourself back out there.

After drying your hands, you take a moment to readjust your ponytail, a few hairs having gone astray from Dean's hand playing at the nape of your neck.

You shake your head at the thought with a smile.

Once you're all set, you exit the restroom, your eyes looking down the narrow and dimmed corridor when a hand wraps around your bicep and twirls you around.

You smile at the movement until your back is thrown against the wall, your head bouncing off the wood on the impact.

Before your vision catches up with the rest of you, you already know whose body heat is radiating in front of you; not your boyfriend, sneaking up on you for a private make-out session, but a scumbag barfly who had been harassing you early.

"Maybe next time you won't be such a bitch," whiskey wafts over you. Your nose scrunches and you turn your head away from the smell, but fingers wrap around your chin forcing you to look into his dark eyes, his pupils dilated and eyes wildly jumping back and forth as an elbow lands heavy on your windpipe.

You glare at him, your heart rate calming as you take a breath.

This asshole has no idea who he was dealing with.

"And hopefully this time you'll learn your lesson," you wheeze out as his elbow digs into your throat, restricting your breath.

He cocks his head at you and before he can react, your right hand flies to his fingers wrapped around your chin and you grasp his thumb. With a swift surety, you snap his thumb back with a sickening crack. A howl leaves his throat as his hand and arm fall away from your body. He begins to back away, his eyes looking at his broken thumb in horror, but you grab onto his shoulders, driving his body back to yours as you ram your knee into his crotch, nothing but a strangled cry and a lone tear in his eye as his knees hit the ground and he doubles over.

Your chest in heaving as you look down at the pathetic man in front of you; his good hand holding his bruised boys and his mangled hand cradled against his chest.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice echoes down the hallway. You turn towards the shadow racing towards you, and Dean is illuminated in the dim light above you as he reaches your side.

"What the fuck happened?" His forehead is wrinkled as he takes in the battered man in front of him.

"Like I said," you glance toward the pathetic excuse of a man whimpering on the ground. "Nothing I can't handle."

Dean's eyes find yours before they quickly scan over your face, then your body, making sure you were actually okay.

"C'mon," his hand lands gently on the same bicep that had been grabbed just a few seconds ago. "Let's get out of here."

You and Dean turn away but a rasped voice calls out to you.

"You psycho bitch! You'll get yours."

You just shake your head and continue your way back to the table, but Dean stops beside you.

"Dean," you say in a low warning. His head glances back slightly over his shoulder.

"What'd you say, douchebag?" Dean ignores you as he turns around and you reach out to him, though he brushes you off as he stalks towards the man picking himself off from the dirty bar floor.

His eyes find Dean, and he squares his jaw.

"I said," the man rolls his shoulders back. "Your girl's a fucking psycho and I'm pressing charges."

You're a step behind Dean, and before you can reach out and stop him, Dean's got the man pinned against the wall, holding him up by his t-shirt that looks like its about to rip.

"Press this, dick," Dean growls as his fist whips into the guy's nose. Blood spews as Dean drops him and he crumbles to the ground, tears now streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the gruesome stream flowing over his lips.

Dean squats down the the man's level, his finger his in the man's face.

"Touch her again, and there will be no one to press charges, capeesh?" Even without knowing Dean, anyone with a brain could tell it wasn't a question.

"Fuck you guys!" Blood sprays as the man yells.

Dean just rolls his eyes and stands up, taking one large step to your side.

"How about we call it a night?" Dean smirks down at you, unaware of the splatter on his flannel as he throws an arm around your shoulder.

"Sounds like a plan to me." You arm wraps around Dean's waist, your fingers only reaching the far side of his back as you smile up at him.

The two of you take a few synchronized steps before Dean glances over his shoulder again. You watch him closely before his eye face forward, a proud smile on his face.

Dean's elbow closes around your head as he pulls you into him, his lips pressing against your temple.

"Nice job, sweetheart."

A/N: Sorry, I really wanted to have a badass reader with Dean coming in for assistance vs. Dean coming to save the day. Figure if the reader's a hunter, she can definitely handle a handsy guy on her own. Protective!Dean is just a bonus. Hope you enjoyed, anon!

Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @deansgoddess @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 8.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (SMUT - Mature Content) (Don't read this at work or in public or at church or in class)

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Here today for your consideration is some graphic smut. Idk anymore. Agonizing smut. Edging. Power Play. PWP. We don't need to live like this, but this is how this chapter happened, someone told me to make it long so here we fuckin are guys. Anyway don't forget to drink water and clench as you read this.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne songs Can I Stay

Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks for making the story poster featuring Baekhyun’s outfit in this chapter. Additional Tag for @andimoon

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

‘When can I see you again?’

‘I need to see you again”

With a slow and deliberate agonizing pull of his dark eyes, he ran them up the entire length of your body before setting them down devastatingly deep inside of your eyes and there was no longer any breath left in your body that could fight the dizziness you felt under his gaze.

Inside of his eyes a flame was ablaze and you, and you, and every single bit of you, was burning.

Baekhyun was at your doorway with a hand in his pocket; looking absolutely nothing like your prim and proper Personal Assistant usually did. Gone was the professional suit and tie and here he stood in front of you looking more casual than you had ever seen him. This was day-off Byun Baekhyun. He leaned against the doorframe with colorful sneakers on his feet and on his lower half wearing a pair of well fitted jeans with what had to be very trendy holes ripped right through the knees. The holes were large and dramatic. You could make out the soft flesh of his inner knee and on the right leg, you even saw some of his soft upper thigh. What were these jeans?

Your eyes seemed to act on their own accord as you took him in, pausing your journey just about thigh level to let out an appreciative exhale because of simply how good this man’s thighs looked in these jeans. On his broad chest he wore a soft and well-worn red hoodie. He looked younger like this. His face was already very youthful for his age but dressed like this? He could pass for a college student in this sweater and in these jeans.

You tried. You really tried not to let your eyes linger for too long over the middle zipper section of him. But the man was wearing a belt — the accent in the middle kind of caught your eyes and despite all of your mental gymnastics to get your eyes to move up into his face right now, you knew that the belt was black. You knew that he had the buckle fastened through the third hole in the leather and you knew that the buckle was silver and had a brushed metal texture to it. You had lingered here for too long. My god, you could identify it in a police lineup if you had to. The belt as well as the bulge of fabric; the well filled out denim below the belt. The parts of him that occupied far more of your mind than you’d ever admit outloud to anyone. You had intimate knowledge of the power he held over you. You’d slept with him exactly twice; both times in the well concealed darkness of your bedroom and still, still knew the man and every single but of him was gorgeous.

You were positive that you were ogling him for too long but if he had any thoughts about the way you took him in he certainly wasn’t speaking on it.

When you finally made it through, when the breath that seemed to be stuck halfway through your windpipe finally made its way out and your eyes finally touched on the edges of his face enough for you to catch the tip of his tongue that moistened his bottom lip a half second before his teeth bit down on that wet lip. It was such a brief action but your mind flashed a memory of those teeth biting down hard on to the soft skin of your neck. Those teeth that brought just a bit of pain and that mouth that sucked hard enough to bruise your flesh.

This mark remained on you at this very moment and it took every bit of strength left inside of you not to lift a hand and touch the spot with your fingertips.

You shouldn’t do such a thing. You were being watched.

His eyes watched you. You’d made it this far. You’d reached his eyes and when you pulled your own into his there was a shift in his pupils to finally have your focus, to finally be looking into his face instead of feasting all over his crotch like you had been doing.

Were you caught?

He had a smile on his face and you could see a narrowing of his eyelids, a microscopic tick of a single eyebrow over one of his eyes and his smile pulled just a tiny bit wider.

You probably should do something.

“Hi,” you managed weakly and his smile pulled brighter, showing his teeth for a moment.

“Hi,” his lips parted with his whispered response. His head tilted toward the door frame he was leaning on. That one word; just a repetition of your own inadequate greeting but somehow in his voice and said so softly it seemed to jostle every bit of the fondness you had for him and it sent a burst of sweet bubbles to your surface. The sweet feelings and tiny gestures and the delicate kisses and the sleepy whispers, they all floated up and one by one each made a tiny pop, pop, pop, breaking whatever excuse for surface tension you had tricked yourself into believing you could still hold on to.

What did normal people do when they had a visitor?

You stepped aside; your legs teetering just a little unsteadily, holding the door open for him to enter and also for your own balance and at last his weight shifted off of the doorframe and he took a quiet step inside.

You could breathe at last. He was finally aiming his eyes at something other than you as he looked down at his feet to push his shoes off.

You could feel the newness of this making your nerves misbehave.

Your brand new out-of-the-box boyfriend had suddenly stopped by your house and it was getting dark outside. As far as you knew he was supposed to have been busy all day. The boys’ music class and then dinner with his parents and then… he would have been tired after his day. He would maybe want to go home and rest.

Your mind reached back to his text message. You’d been longing for his company again back when you read it but now your nerves had a hold of you and his messages’ crystal clear meaning from before his arrival was beginning to cloud over just a bit. What if you had been wrong?

What if he actually had some other reason why he had to see you.

What if something had changed or what if something happened with the dinner with his parents? What if that dinner had turned into a business discussion about his future in the company and how he couldn’t waste away his precious days working as your assistant. What if this was a farewell visit; or worse a break up visit?

Were you jumping to conclusions about the reason for his sudden visit and assuming he wanted what you also wanted? What you knew for a fact right now is that you were definitely overthinking this.

The uncertainty had you crossing your arms over your chest and looking down the length of your bare legs. You pointed a freshly painted toe nail forward and absentmindedly tapped against the kitchen island beside the entryway of your home.

“So what did you need to see me about?” The question sounded innocent enough in your head but when it came out of your own mouth you could hear the confrontational tone. It made you wince. You hadn’t meant to sound this way. Out of habit, to recover just a little bit of your own pride, you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. It was an act of self preservation. You were a mess of a mix between a hopeful girlfriend and a nagging team manager and something told you the later one was not what you were supposed to be acting like right now.

Your stupid question was out though and there was no putting it back in. You held your breath and you braced for the answer.

Baekhyun had been making his way into your kitchen and his forward progress stalled when he heard your question. Did he feel your nerves through your words or had your business-like tone taken front and center stage?

He didn’t answer quickly and instead took a few more steps past where you stood your ground and you saw the tiny head shake as he looked back at you with his lips parted.

“Oh, uhh...” his voice began to speak but he stopped again, “I uhhh…” The man didn’t usually struggle with his words. Had you somehow infected him with your nerves? Was it the crossed arms and the manager’s tone of voice? You felt a flash of guilt for it.

Baekhyun exhaled and his eyes closed up.

“I sat outside for thirty minutes and I couldn’t come up with an excuse for being here.” His lips pulled into a wince and he peaked one eye open to look at you.

“I should be at home right now, but my car seemed to drive me here.” Your own smile betrayed you and when he saw it his other eye pulled open. He was adorable. His quiet confession made your heart leap.

“Nothing? No ‘My cell service is out and I had to deliver this important message’ or ‘We have this important client meeting tomorrow and you need to be aware of this detail that only I know.’ You couldn't come up with one little thing?” You simply could not help the teasing now. This was just too much fun. He was adorable.

You hadn’t read his messages wrong. All at once you felt the nerves burst and vanish and he smiled wider as he shook his head.

“I am definitely not here for work, Noona.” He stood just out of reach in that bright red hoodie wearing those jeans and he slipped a hand into his front pocket again, fidgeting with his keys or his phone or whatever it was he did when he was just a little bit anxious.

“So what are you here for then, Baekhyun?” You’d long since dropped your arms and they hung at your side.

His easy smile flattened out, vanishing from his face and he looked into your eyes, watching the shift in your face and recognizing the change in your tone easily.

Something different was brewing inside of your chest that had replaced the silly anxiousness you felt earlier. It had you taking the smallest step closer to him when you asked your brazen question.

This new feeling, a mirror of that which fueled your fingers to text him to tell him to come over, it had you lifting your eyes up from his lips where you’d just watched the nervous way his tongue darted out, your eyebrow bounced over your eye to see it, and when you’d pulled your eyes back up you did it slowly enough that there was zero doubt between the two of you that he had seen it.

This man, this beautiful, glorious, amazingly competent-in-all-ways man, was watching your face with his lips parted and with his words caught up inside his mouth. This man looked nervous right now, inside your home with you looking into his eyes waiting very patiently for his explanations for why he had to see you so urgently tonight.

So far he had none that he dared speak out loud.

You knew this might not be completely fair but it sure was fun watching the man who always had something to say about everything ever, finally at a loss for words.

What would it take to pull those words out of him.

You reached for the top button of the shirt you wore. It was a loose and flowy top and you knew it would only take one button for the shoulder to fall off. You knew the bruise he’d made with his mouth would be visible. You knew the lacy bra you wore would also not be very well concealed and just one more button would bring the view of the soft mounds of your breasts before him. You were on a roll with one button and you were unstoppable with the second button.

Of course his eyes touched below your neck, of course he saw the mark and of course his eyes looked down to the glimpse of your exposed bra. With his eyes having a look he bit down in his lip and you heard the rough exhale through his nose.

And he was in motion. His hand lifted to rub through his hair and another hand lifted to rub over his face and he physically reeled standing right here just out of your reach and with about as much pent up energy inside of his body as you felt inside of your own.

“You,” he lifted a lazy hand in your general direction, waving his slim fingers at you, “I — did not only come here for that. I also wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday, I swear.”

He spilled the words out quickly and pulled his lips in between his teeth as he lifted an oh so innocent hand to lay over his chest as he did his very best to convince you of his noble intentions for coming here tonight. It made you grin. You couldn’t stop it.

The smile on your face was knowing. While you appreciated his concern you were very clearly just fine. And that wasn’t the part you wanted to get to the bottom of. You raised an eyebrow and dropped your voice an octave and you slowly asked your next question.

“You didn’t only come here for what, Baekhyun?”

You whispered in response, needing him to use the words himself out loud before you exploded right here in the space between your entryway and your kitchen. You wanted him to speak openly and honestly with you. You needed to know if he wanted to use you tonight as badly as you wanted to use him tonight.

His eyes were steady on you and you looked at him, mustering all of your experience from your most intense professional negotiations. You steeled your mouth shut and lifted your eyebrows in his direction with a tiny raise of your chin.

He watched your face. His breathing seemed to grow heavier and he seemed to war with himself inside his own head for a few breaths if it.

After a moment his head ticked upward and the look in his eyes grew darker.

“Okay,” he said and his lips hung open after the word came out. A decision it seemed had been reached.

“Okay, fine.” He took a step, it was a big one and you miraculously stood your ground as he moved in.

You did have to close your eyes for a second as he closed in on you. You’d asked for this. And when you felt the warmth of his breath against your face he was so close to you now that even with your eyes open, the pretty features of his face were a blur.

More than his hot breath on you, his hands had come too, those slim fingers ran a path along your neck, slipping his slow moving fingertips over the bruise. You knew his eyes would be feasting on the sight of where he had marked you as his own.

“You want to know why I came?” His hand moved now and you gasped to feel that hand slip around your chin and grip your face tightly. He pulled, making your face turn away from his so that his lips touched up against your ear. He held your face with a surprising strength and your breaths raged in and out, unable to conceal how affected you felt for him to be touching you this roughly.

You felt his soft lips at your ear a moment before you heard the lowly growled words that came from deep within his chest.

”l came because I want to fuck you.” You closed your eyes and your mouth was open as short breaths pushed out of your lungs. You had asked for this but had nowhere prepared for the impact of it. Oh this felt better than you had expected.

“Is this what you want to hear, My Love” You felt overwhelmed by his words, by his hands, by the way he pressed his firm body up against you and the way the edge of the hard countertop dug into your back. The pain of it made you feel somehow still connected to your body right now despite the otherworldly arousal that coursed through you.

“I came because you feel so hot and so wet and so good around my dick that all I can think about is fucking you over and over again.”

His hand moved your chin to face him again and he pulled his face back just enough for you to be able to make out the dark brown of his eyes. His pupils were so dark and all consuming they looked like black holes ready to devour you completely.

“You have no idea how desperate I am for you. If you asked me to get on my knees and beg, I would drop — I would drop to my knees, again, for you.”

“But what you have no fucking idea about, is how It goes so much deeper than that.” Your mind was too jumbled to make sense of what he meant. You did not have any space to translate — deeper than what?

His thumb moved then and you felt pressure as he pressed over it your bottom lip, his wild eyes watching the way your mouth opened slightly as he did it.

Every bit of resistance you may have had in you was gone. You easily molded under his hands, feeling the effects of him in more than just your mouth, the heat spread all over your body, dropping into your stomach, pooling in between your legs.

“More,” he said darkly as if this one word had punctuated the shift into a very different Baekhyun and you let your lips fall open more. His thumb pushed in, hooked around your bottom teeth and pulled you forward into his open mouth. You felt the hot wetness of his tongue when he pushed it inside of your mouth. This darkness in his voice sounded familiar; like the same Baekhyun that bit you. This must be him, when he’d lost the carefully curated control, this was him.

You felt inundated. Blindsided by the way your body reacted to it. You sucked on his tongue that he’d pushed into your mouth and you heard a low throaty groan from him as he slowly pulled it back out, leaving you shaking and trembling to watch his face twist into pleasure. His eyes had rolled closed and with him pressed up against your body this way you could feel the rigid heat between his legs pressed up against you.

His hands were trembling and he took them off of your face. He was retreating. It took you a few seconds to realize this and you missed his hands touching you when he’d pulled them away. He stumbled back, landing on one of your kitchen stools.

You watched him breathe through it all the while desperately trying to catch your own breath. When he spoke next he sounded worked up and agitated.

“I am fucking wrecked by you. I feel insane. I feel completely destroyed,” When his eyes pulled open he was back; whispering softly through parted lips and trembling hands that he fisted at his waist.

“But, I also know how lopsided this is. I know that I’m the one who fell too hard — too fast. I think you know it too — teasing me like that. Making me lose control, making me want to lose control —”

You’d done something awful. You’d introduced some doubt inside of his mind and you felt the need to undo all of that this very instant. Was that really why? Did he really have so much confusion about your intentions?

“You must know that I would do anything. I know I should hold back — I need to hold back with you, but…”

You took a step into him, leaned forward and pulled his bottom lip in between your lips and you kissed him, interrupting his false beliefs about how much you felt for him with a kiss.

He responded to your kiss right away with a need and incredible want. That he didn’t know the signs — that he didn’t recognize just how strong of a hold he had on you was a failure on your part — this couldn’t be the only reason. You wondered if it was something you’d missed.

His lips kissed you with such an intensity that you had to place both of your hands on his cheeks to pull him back, just so you could breathe, just so you could speak to the truth of how you felt about him; how you had been feeling about him all day. You had things to say to him.

”I worship you —” Your labored exhale painted over his wet lips, “Baekhyun.” Your chest constricted when you heard your own voice utter those scary words. You’d never before told someone something like this and still deep inside your chest you knew how true it was.

With your small declaration you saw his eyes roll and he bit down on his bottom lip. He inhaled through his nose, his teeth bit down hard on that lip. A small whimper came from the back of his throat.

But you weren’t done. You had so much to tell him and you mustered up the courage to speak.

“You occupy my mind and my heart so completely. I even considered going to bed early tonight just so I could hurry up and see you tomorrow morning.

“If I’ve given you any impression that I don’t want you, that I didn’t want you here; I am sorry. And I’m sorry about the way I greeted you earlier. I was — just nervous. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

His face ticked back and forth, you felt it happen within your hands.

“I’ve never seen you nervous.” Baekhyun said matter of factly with his pink lips hung open after he spoke.

“I am very good at hiding it.” You let go of his face, trusting that he might stay put and you waved both of your hands over your own chest. “It happens all on the inside. My stomach is a wreck.”

“But you, texting me like that, and standing there at my door looking like this…” you waved a hand over the length of him and his eyes followed your waving fingers to look down at himself with a slowly growing smile that he tried to conceal on his face. His fingertips reached out and he touched your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger.

“You make me very nervous. I thought for sure I was the one who liked you more.” Your confessions had been tumbling out of you quite freely now. It seemed you’d cleared the clog. “I think we have a lot to learn about each other.”

He watched your face as you spoke. You said all you could think of to say and the small tugs he made on your shirt were distracting, they made you lose whatever else you might have had to say. You reached a hand forward to tug at one of the red strings that hung out of his hood.

His fingers released the bit of your shirt he was holding. He’d been absent minded with it but when he reached out again he lightly gripped the next closed button on your top. There were only two left that held this thing together. His focus was light on that button he held between his index finger and his thumb and you felt a small tug as a third finger came into play, pushing the button through the hole; exposing more of your skin.

He was making you dizzy again. You felt his light touch along your stomach just below the front clasp of your bra and your own small gasps were the only sound in this quiet space when he lightly traced the lace edge of your bra, his fingertip running up the soft flesh of your breast. He followed up the strap and you felt him rub the pad of his fingertip on your shoulder, over the bruise there.

Baekhyun leaned. You felt the movement in him moments before you felt his hair tickling lightly over your skin. You felt the puff of breath from his mouth moments before you felt his soft lips on you and when his lips landed over that same exact spot you had to place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling over. You braced for it, you could feel it coming when you felt the parting of his lips, the wetness of his tongue and the hardness of his teeth and he bit you again, harder this time in the exact same spot as before. It took your breath away and you had to open your mouth; a small hiss and a quiet moan.

“Do I really make you nervous?” He asked in a low whisper into the space beside your neck. You felt goosebumps all over your skin. His hands were moving and you felt a tiny click. He had figured out the front clasp of your bra. You felt his mouth on you again, this time his lips and his tongue all over. You might have nodded your head. You weren't very much in control of your body anymore.

But his hands, those hands, they were moving again. His slim fingertips had slipped into the space between your goosebumped skin and the waistband of your shorts and he pushed with his hands, leaving only your lace underwear behind. He was undressing you. In the kitchen with all of your lights on and your hands rubbed over the soft red hoodie he still wore, lamenting over the lack of warm skin you felt. He was still completely clothed when gravity took your shorts.

“Do you really want me to not hold back?” His next question was spoken into your open mouth. You gasped, inhaling the sweet smelling air from inside his lungs when his hands reached around and gripped your ass and you were being lifted, with his mouth still connected to your own and his eyes wide open as he looked into your face between the kisses.

He had so many clothes on. You felt the roughness of the denim through the thin lace panties that you still wore and against the bare skin of your thighs that wrapped around his thin waist. You felt your own wetness that soaked the fabric press against you as you were lifted and you were carried; he was moving now.

You were in a different room. You inhaled a shocked breath when you were tossed, your back meeting a soft bed and you were entirely too naked for how many clothes he wore as he climbed over you on the bed, his bare knee and its warm skin a stark contrast to the scratchy jeans, you felt him push that knee roughly against your legs, making you open tor him.

“Baek — clothes,” you managed only a few nouns. He understood and you heard a quiet chuckle from the back of his throat, only it didn’t quite sound like humor. It sounded like something else. A little boy playing roughly and carelessly with a toy, perhaps.

He caged you in with his arms pinning you down on either side and his bare knee pressed up high between your parted legs. You were certain he could feel your wetness on his knee.

“I’ll keep them on for now, because you like them.” His balance shifted then and he moved, propping up on one elbow so he could trace down the curve of your body with his fingertips. He was moving very slowly and you squirmed below the uncomfortable tickle you felt when he reached your hip bones. He was moving lower and his knee was gone, replaced by his wandering hand.

“God, you are wet. I can feel you worshiping me, right here,” his fingertips pressed over your panties and the purposeful drag of his fingers over your swollen center had you gasping. He did it again and again and you responded desperately with every touch and when he pushed the fabric aside and slipped two slim fingers inside of your wetness you could feel yourself losing this game he was playing.

Just with the build up before you got into this room, you were already in bad shape, but now with his fingers touching; you felt yourself too close. He was guiding you there. You knew he could tell too. His movements were deliberate and he was watching your face closely as he did it. You could feel on the edge of it, you were so close to it, your breathing was ragged and desperate and he watched with a quiet and calm expression on his face as he brought you there. You squirmed below him, you touched just along the edge of it with a whimper when all at once he pulled his hand away abruptly, slipping well outside of your wetness and far away from the release you had been so close to. That hand, that hand was gone, his fingers and the feeling all of it was gone. The denial felt like a splash of cold water against your hot skin.

“Do want me to fuck you, Miss Manager?” He spoke out your work title in a hushed whisper and the surprise of hearing that title — right here with you in the state you were in, it pulled your eyes open to look into his face. When he caught your attention you saw a slight narrowing of his dark eyes. It was a challenge. You wondered right then about the fantasies this man must have had at work. You wondered how you would be able to move forward tomorrow knowing what you now knew from his one question he had just asked you.

“You know you just have to ask me nicely,” he said with a shrug of his face. He lifted his hand, still wet from you, up to his lips and you watched his lips part and the tip of his tongue emerged to lick up the wetness before he stuck both of his fingers inside of his mouth, pulling them out of his mouth slowly as he looked into your eyes.

This was too much. You hadn’t been prepared for this kind of behavior from him and the most shocking thing was just how much you were turned on by every single thing he did to you.

Yes, you did want him to fuck you. You were feeling entirely too desperate for it and he was completely and utterly in control of every single thought you had coursing through your brain.

“B-Baek—take off your clothes—”

“Uh-uh,” he interrupted firmly when you had started to speak. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to ask your assistant for a favor. Really, you are more professional than that. At least say please.” This was definitely a game he was playing now.

You felt all of it, all at once. The sting of being so close to a finish and being denied it. The sting of him denying you even for a few seconds what you had so clearly wanted from him. You felt the arousal still overtaking every single one of your senses and still so very affected by his goddamned audacity to be so clearly having so much fun with you right now.

It made you feel insane. All of it was too much.

You weren't speaking right away for sheer loss of words. You felt like you’d lost them along with your sanity and all you could do was reach your hand out and tug lightly at his red sweater. You were greeted with a small slap at the back of your hand for that and he was inhaling to speak again with about as much mischief in his eyes as you had ever seen.

“Répète après moi,” he began in French for no reason you could make any sense of, not that you could make any sense of anything that was happening to you right now.

He spoke clearly and slowly as if you were a naughty student in need of reprimanding — with a finger pointed at his mouth, touching on his bottom lip. This was the finger that had just been inside of you.

“Assistant Byun…will you please” he said with a pointed pause and he watched you and he waited.

It was your turn to repeat after him.

“Assistant Byun, will you please take off your clothes and fuck me?” It was always best to rip the bandaid off, you said it in a single breath. The seconds after the words came out of your lips though, you felt their massive impact.

Every single day, and all day long at work, you started dozens of sentences to him exactly like this. This was the most dangerous game you could have played with him.

His eyes were watching you darkly as you said it and you caught the slow roll of his eyes into the back of his head as he threw his face back and away from you, feeling the very real impact of that sentence you had just said to him.

No doubt, committing it to memory so that every single time you started with those words at work, this very moment would return to his mind — and to yours as well.

He didn't respond right away with words but he was moving before you heard him whisper the quiet, “Yes ma’am,” that he always used as a response at the office.

He quickly pulled the red sweater up over his head and tossed it onto the floor behind him. He’d grabbed the white shirt along with the sweater, removing everything at once. You saw the clear firmness of his skin at last. You could smell the clean, expensive fragrance that he wore. You felt the bed move and you heard the telltale sounds of a belt buckle, a zipper, the swish of jeans and he was back to you all heat and skin and the overwhelmingly amazing way he smelled and he was back; he was back.

You felt ready to snap. You felt wound so tight; the anticipation alone might have done you in, but he was back. You’d abandoned the panties. They were soaked anyway.

He was above you; coating you entirely. The heavy weight of his body covered you, you felt restricted in your breathing and he was here. He was yours; you had him at last. He was in between your legs, he was on top of you and his arms wrapped below your shoulders as he pulled your body into his own, a tangle here without any distance at all between the skin of your bodies and between your faces. You felt him there too, right between your legs, so perfectly lined up. You’d wrapped your tense legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you.

He was looking into your eyes and when he pushed inside it was all at once; in one fluid motion. Your mouth opened to gasp and his mouth opened over your mouth, pushing his tongue between your lips and biting down with his teeth with a matching rhythm; the same motion that his hips moved inside of you, until the gasping from his own lungs grew to be too much for him to take.

You touched him everywhere, needing to feel that smooth skin from his abdomen to his chest to his neck to his face and as you passed your fingers over his lips you gasped when turned his head, catching a finger between his teeth and biting down hard. You wondered how many marks he had made on you now.

You were dizzy. You were overcome. He was sitting up and watching the space where your bodies connected; where he disappeared inside of you again and again and you were lost.

You were lost. His pace was affected by the feeling of your tremors, by the tightening of all of your muscles and you were lost. You heard the growling curses that flew from his lips and the whining sounds that came from his mouth.

His actions were a blur. You were too consumed by this man. You know that you came undone before he did, you felt his strong grip as his hand dug hard into your inner thigh and you felt the slight pain as he pushed inside of you roughly. It brought a sound to your lips and you cried out again when his thumb between your bodies colliding did-you-in again and he was shaking. He was trembling on top of you with a noisy grunt in your ear and a shuttering that you could feel inside of you he was shaking.

The comedown was lengthy. A thousand thoughts came rushing into your mind the second it cleared enough to allow for any little bit of rational thinking. This man…this man was surprising in every single way he could be. He was a marathon and a marvel. He was a hurricane and a deluge and you felt almost too spent to even move, but you knew you must. You reached for something on the bed, finding the panties and deeming them good enough for this mess and his breathing had finally settled enough for a small moan to come from his chest.

Despite the relief you felt, despite the sex being what you needed from him you still longed to touch him. You were sore and you were spent and still you reached for his warmth as if you would never be free of this desire for him. You found him easily. He wrapped himself around you and you only half paid attention to any of those thoughts racing through your mind. Concerns and worries for how you might resist him at work, now that you had these ideas presented in such a tempting way. Worries for what the future with him might actually hold. Worries about how deeply you had fallen for him and how desperately you felt this desire to be with him all of the time.

“Where did you park?” You finally spoke after a long spell of silent breathing.

“Secure lot,” he said over your head and he tightened the grip of his arms around your shoulders and laid a heavy leg over your hip.

You saw him arrive at your home empty handed and he definitely didn’t bring a suit for work tomorrow hidden in his pockets, but the hold he had on you was tight and it was warm and his breathing was beginning to even out as the sounds of nighttime insects began to chirp outside of your closed window and you decided that all of those pesky little details and worries and concerns could wait definitely until tomorrow.

[To be Continued]

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

[medusapelagia]

Seeds of Dreams, Seeds of Truth 1\11

This is my fic, written for @steddiesummerexchange based on @penny00dreadful's prompt!.

I was super excited when I got the confirmation email and I hope they'll like my story!

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Tags: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Magic, Regent Prince/King Steve Harrington, Knight Eddie Munson, Prison, Sick Steve Harrington, Vomiting, Attempted Murder, Poisoning, Double povs, Panic Attacks, Magic,

Read it here or on AO3

Part 1, Part 2, (soon Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11)

WC: 939

Steve is standing in front of the Sacred House.

Just a few steps and he will not be the Prince Regent but the King.

It doesn't matter if, in the last three years, he acted as the King, after his father was declared officially dead, and now, just a few days ago, his death was celebrated with a big funeral putting an end to King Richard’s reign and getting the entire kingdom ready for his new ruler: King Steve.

All he has to do is cross the threshold, head bowed in submission to the old gods and the new, and accept the regalia, the scepter, and the sword, from the cleric. A warm hand gently stops on his back, pushing him forward without a word. For a moment Steve turns toward the guard at his right; even under the helm, he can feel that he is smiling at him, encouraging.

Steve gives a little nod that goes unnoticed by anyone apart from the man at his side and steps inside the Sacred House.

The air is so full of incense that he walks blindly through the mist, one step in front of the other. He has been inside the Sacred House so many times that he knows the path by heart.

The cleric is waiting for him at the altar, and at the man's side there are two young boys holding crimson pillows with his regalia: on his left the sword engraved with wildflowers, on his right the scepter.

The Sacred House’s wooden door closes with a loud grinding sound and for a moment no one moves.

The cleric stares at Steve from the altar, while the nobility shares a worried look: isn't the cleric going to proclaim the new king? After all, King Richard's body was never found, and being crowned after a King that nobody knows if he is really dead or not is certainly a bad omen. Steve himself tried very hard to postpone the coronation, but three years had passed since the last letter was received from the King and even the Prince Regent had no more excuses to leave the kingdom to live with uncertainty.

Every instinct in Steve's body is screaming at him to lift his head and glare at the man who is mocking him in front of everyone, but deep inside he knows that this is just a test: will the child king be able to respect authority or will he lash out? Steve takes a deep breath and he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, counting the stones on the ground to occupy his mind until finally the cleric starts to sing.

That is his cue.

Steve finally lifts his eyes and the cleric is staring at him with his deep eyes, pupils blown due to the ritual he undergoes the night before to purify himself. Still singing, the cleric asks him if Steve's soul is pure, if he undergoes the ritual with a pure spirit and is ready to devote himself to his kingdom, and Steve confirms every sentence: he has fasted for three days, given alms, and made confession. He also undertook a pilgrimage on foot from the castle to the rock where his ancestors poured their blood and declared the land theirs, freeing it from the malevolent influence of dark magic ages ago. Eddie, Steve’s faithful guard, was at his side at every moment, preventing him from falling when he felt too weak, making sure that not once in three days Steve spoke a single word, always ready to offer him water and quiet comfort.

The cleric hums and then starts to pronounce the oath that Steve must take in front of their gods and their people.

The words feel like ashes in Steve's mouth, while he tries to remind himself that nothing will change, that he already acted as a king for the last three years, and that the entire ceremony is just to give him formally the power to rule. It's just a ceremony, nothing more.

The cleric nods to the boy at his left. Steve immediately recognizes little Will Byers, the cook’s son. Despite his young age, he seems to have some deep connection with the spiritual world already, and Steve’s not surprised to see that the cleric asked him to be part of the ritual. The future king gives him a little encouraging smile and the kid smiles back, getting closer to Steve, and offering him a long sword whose blade is engraved and gilded, far too delicate to be a real weapon. Steve grabs it, tilting his head as a thank you, and for the first time in three days, he speaks. He swears to protect his people from every danger, tracing a cross in the air pointing to the four cardinal directions: the North, where the winds will blow to bring them clouds and rain and good harvests, the Est, where the sun will rise bringing its shiny light blessing the new king and protect him and the kingdom from the darkness, the South, where their ancestors came from all those years ago, and the West, where the king’s soul will walk to rest peacefully when his time will come, but when he turns toward the wooden doors on the west side of the building the doors slam open and a colorless face, so similar to Steve’s own, glares at him.

"Father..." Steve whispers, so surprised that he lets his arm fall and the blade screeches on the ground.

"Usurper."

This is the first word his father tells him after three years of silence.

And then the chaos explodes.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Target Acquired

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6502

Warnings: Canon typical violence, flashback scenes, time jumps, and not enough Bucky. Somewhat angst. necessary filler to make sense of what's coming next.

Author’s Note: I KID YOU NOT I TRIED TO MAKE THIS A PART 2 WITH A FLUFFY ENDING AND IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE! So you get an in-between part to lead to the fluff. Don't come for me. I swear the next part to this will end in fluff. Even if it ends up being over 10k 😅 Please be sure to read Compromised before diving into this one! As a reminder please go and follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a new fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Compromised || MCU Masterlist || Fandom Masterlist || Taglist

“I’m going to ask this one more time.” There was hurt in his voice and every part of him hoped that the answer he now had in his mind was wrong.  “Who is your mission?”

“You.”

“I know you don’t owe me any favors, and I definitely don’t deserve this, but please. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show.” She watched as his eyes hadn’t changed as he kept them on her. “Please. The others don’t need to hear about this right now and I promise that I’ll be gone by sunrise.”

He stood there for a moment, taking her in one last time. For the briefest of moments, this was his Y/N that he was looking at. The woman he had loved with everything he could give. She wasn’t the enemy that had been standing in front of him. Nor was she the woman that broke his heart several times within their conversation tonight. 

The pain in his chest shattered the illusion a moment later and all he could see and feel was the betrayal from her. The lies he had heard over the years on a loop in his mind as he looked into her eyes. He couldn’t give her the whole night she was asking for. He didn’t even know if he’d be capable of giving her any time longer than him walking out of this room.

“I’ll give you until your candles are out.” He said as he shook her hand off of his and opened the door. “That’s the only time you’ll get. After that it’s fair game.”

Party decorations were still displayed throughout the area. The table that sat off to the side and held several stacks of presents were left untouched. The party atmosphere that had been in full swing several hours ago had been sucked out the moment unease settled within the air.

Bucky didn’t want to talk about why Y/N had left so quickly after she had blown out her candles. Their friends had bombarded Bucky with several questions, trying to figure out what happened. But eventually the different questions had caused Bucky to quickly get up from his seat and leave the room. 

He made his way back into the side office he had been occupying earlier. In his rush to leave the room to give himself some space from Y/N, he didn’t grab the file. And as he made his way back into that room, the contents of it had been neatly tucked back into that file. 

His eyebrow raised as he moved towards it. The last time he had seen it, the contents of the file had been spread out on the desk, with every piece of information on display. For it to be put back as neatly as it had been, he knew Y/N had been back here as well. 

Proof that it had in fact been her had been the single sticky note that had been left on the front of the file. Her writing was easily recognizable to Bucky. And as his eyes scanned the words, he couldn’t stop the mixed emotions that bubbled within him.

It's yours to do with as you please. 

Beneath that had been several words and phrases that wouldn't make sense to anyone else. But to Bucky they were code words he only knew the meaning to. A secret language the two had created for themselves. Even though his eyes read the different words on the paper, he could only hear the translation in his mind. 

Forgive me. You have my heart. I’ll be there if you need me.

Bucky’s fleshed fingers ran over the words on the sticky note before pulling it off and crumpling it up in his hand before tossing it in the trash can beside the desk. There shouldn’t have been the warm familiarity of seeing the code words, but there was. There shouldn’t have been the slightest bit of guilt seeping through the anger and betrayal he felt. But the guilt reared its head like an annoying thorn.

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” 

“Because it isn’t necessary! I left. I made the choice to be better. You got to do the same. Why is it any different with me?”

Her voice rang in his ears at the memory. The conversation was just hours old and Bucky was still playing it back as if it just happened. The guilt that poked through the anger constantly reached for that exact moment. The exact words eating at him. 

Was her situation the same? Definitely not. But had she done as he had and left the grasp of Hydra and done better since then? He knew she had. He knew she had worked harder since that night he found her sitting in his doorway. She had proved time and time again that she could be trusted. That she was one of them as the years followed. 

“Because I don’t know how I can trust you without knowing all of the facts.”

His own voice played through his mind as the memory continued. His voice shot back at her as he took that step closer to her to keep her from leaving. His anger and hurt laced within his words as he said them. He believed that anyone else would understand how he was feeling. He was sure they’d understand why moments later he had told her to leave. 

Bucky had all the information he needed right in front of him. It pointed to all the right reasons why Y/N shouldn’t be around him or the team. Why he feared whatever ties she may currently still have to the organization he fought so hard to escape. And the one person he had opened his heart to had been working for them. Yet, the guilt laid there under the anger telling him that he had taken it too far. 

Grabbing a hold of the file, he walked out of the room, returning to the common area. He could have waited until the morning to tell the others. He could have waited a few days to process everything. But he knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle the questions that would come if didn’t deal with it now. 

“I don’t see her just up and leaving like that.” Tony’s voice carried over as he spoke with the others. “Did something happen between them that she would need time away?”

“I doubt it.” It was Sam’s voice that came next. “They had been gone for a bit earlier. He came out before her and there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.”

“She left because I told her to leave.” Bucky made his presence known as he walked over to the table they were sitting around. 

He hadn't missed the shocked looks he had received the moment the words left his lips. The furrowed brows mixed in with the widened eyes was something he was used to around here. He watched as Tony opened his mouth to speak before Bucky started once more.

“There was something she mentioned some time ago that didn’t sit right with me. I tried to ignore it but after a few weeks I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.” His eyes moved to Steve for a moment before looking at the others. “‘Being free from the memories tied to it makes it easier to get the job done.’ Were her exact words that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“That could have meant anything.” Tony shook his head. “We say a lot of things around here that sound weird out of context.”

“How many SHIELD agents do you know that can relate to having memories taken away?” Bucky asked. “Because all the agents that came over besides her never experienced anything like that.”

“She was Hydra.” Steve said with a disappointed look forming on his face.

“No.” Natasha added. “There’s no way she was. There would have been some kind of information on her.” She looked over to Tony. “Your A.I. would have picked up on something.”

“I wondered the same thing.” Bucky said, catching their attention. “I wondered how someone could have gotten through not only your defenses but kept a low enough profile to not have anything on record anywhere. So I asked someone that I knew was good at digging.” He looked over the others before his eyes landed on Natasha. He knew if anyone was going to understand, it was going to be her. “Phantom.”

The others watched as Natasha’s eyes widened the moment the words left Bucky’s lips. She shook her head quickly after. “No. There’s no way that can be her.”

“I didn’t want to believe it at first.” Bucky tossed the file on the table in front of him. It slid across the top and came to a stop in front of Natasha. “But it’s hard to ignore all of the signs when they’re in bold flashing letters.”

“Wait, who is Phantom?” Sam asked, looking between Bucky and Natasha. “Isn’t that the woman Scott had to deal with?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I believe that was Ghost.”

“Phantom,” Bucky said, getting their attention once again. “was used more frequently by Hydra. Never hand in hand on missions with the Winter Soldier or else I would have remembered her. I remember it being said where the second batch of Winter Soldiers failed, Phantom was their success.”

“While in the Red Room we heard stories about a girl who was purchased by Hydra the day before her ‘graduation ceremony’.” Natasha added. She hadn’t missed the grimaces on some of their faces when she said ‘purchased’. “Phantom was to be their saving grace. It was said Phantom could get in and out of wherever easily with whatever information was needed in record time. Put Phantom undercover for 24 hours and they’ve got everything they need to overthrow the target in 12 hours.” Her eyes moved to the file that she hadn’t touched yet. She shook her head before sliding the file towards the middle before looking up at Bucky. “It's not her. Or else we would have been in shambles years ago.”

“It wasn’t the Avengers she was trying to dismantle.” It was the tone of Bucky’s voice that clued the others in on what her Mission was. “When I confronted her, she admitted that her mission was to infiltrate and report information that was deemed useful to Hydra while waiting for her orders about her main target." He paused for a moment. “When I came to the compound, I knew there was something off. I felt it in my gut when I first met her. But she had been thick as thieves with most of you so I put that feeling aside. And after some time of letting that guard down I let her in not knowing that I was her mission.”

Steve shook his head. “If that were true, she would have attempted to take you out at some point. We would have known.”

“Unless she had a change of heart.” It was Tony's voice that spoke up. 

Tony had taken the file and begun going through it while the others continued to speak. The amount of information that it held was astonishing to Tony. How FRIDAY had missed any of this had stumped him. 

Every search that had been done on candidates had been thorough. Sealed records and even crimes that one may think had been brushed under the rug would have been found. Yet everything in the file was news to him. 

Sighing, Tony gently tossed an image onto the table. It was a photo they had seen before. A destroyed Hydra base they had no explanation for.  “We were wondering who our mystery vigilante was that took down that Hydra base. It makes sense. She spends a bit of time with a kindred spirit and when given her mission, she can’t go through with it.”

“Hydra would have pulled her out if she was compromised.” Nat shook her head. 

“Not if it meant getting our attention that she was gone.”  Steve added.

“And wiping her memories would have risked the mission.” A huff of a scoff passed Bucky’s lips as a thought crossed his mind and shook his head. At one point she would have been breaking through the brainwashing Hydra had put her through. The nightmares she’d occasionally have along with her moments of spacing out, remembering something. All the same things he had gone through, just not at the same intensity. “All of the signs were right there and I didn’t see them.”

“None of us did.” Sam said as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“The question we should be asking now is do we trust her enough that she’s actually changed?” Tony asked as he looked at the others. “Or should we be on full alert that the one person who knows way too much about us is out there with no alliance?”

It was that question that Bucky couldn't bring himself to say anything. His mind and emotions were everywhere and he couldn't give an answer. He had been on the opposite side of things this time. He hadn't been the one on the run. He hadn't been the one with all eyes on him. 

"I am not Hydra anymore! If you’re going to take anything away from this, please let that be it.”

And it was as her voice rang through his head once more that the guilt poked through again and hooked on. He shouldn’t have just let her leave like he had. Not for the fear of what she could possibly do, but for the fact that while he had gotten a new chance, he practically tied the noose around her neck for her.

ONE AND A HALF YEARS LATER

Old floorboards creaked as Y/N walked across the room with a ceramic mug in her hand. She walked over towards the small window in the kitchen that gave her the perfect vantage point of the neighborhood. There was some peace that came over Y/N every morning that she came to stand by it. She had only been in this apartment for a few weeks, but there was always a need to keep checking to make sure she was in the clear. 

After leaving the compound, she jumped from place to place constantly to ensure she stayed under the radar. She wasn’t sure what to expect in the weeks that followed. She expected many of the people that she cared about to come looking for her. She expected to be arrested for the details that came to light. 

Instead, when she occasionally picked a familiar safe house to stay in from time to time, she’d find messages directly to her. Messages asking for her to get in contact with a few of them. Most of the notes had been from Natasha. But no matter how many times she missed the people she cared about she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Soon she stopped going to the familiar places and stuck with the occasional rundown apartment.

Her eyes scanned the buildings across the way before moving down to the civilians down below on the busy streets. She watched as several vendors sold their items from time to time or watched as the schools of children ran home the moment the time came. Always searching for something that stood out in the familiarity of things. Even after moving around for over a year and across the world, her routine never changed.

No matter how free she had been with the Avengers, she was now someone who was alone. She was someone without any ties to an organization and that meant someone would always come knocking. And Y/N knew that some of them wouldn’t come with a container of cookies. 

As she brought the mug up to her lips, her mind instantly went to Bucky and how he would have enjoyed this little town. How even though the streets were crowded, she had mostly been left alone. As the thought played through her mind, it didn’t stop the ache in her chest from forming.  No matter how much time had passed, she still missed him. 

Maybe she didn’t deserve to miss him. Not after what she had been keeping from him. She tried so hard to bury her past and keep it under for it to only be uncovered by Bucky. She deserved his anger and how easy it was for him to ask her to leave. If she was being honest, she had expected many things to come from that night, but staying under the radar hadn’t been one of them.

A part of her wanted there to be a message from Bucky waiting for her when she stopped by one of the familiar safe houses. Yet there never was. Not that she was expecting there to be. She knew Bucky could possibly never forgive her. If he had…even then she wouldn’t know. Not when she tried hard to make sure she lived like the namesake that was forced upon her. 

Shaking her head slightly, her eyes moved along the alley way at the far end of the street. Her eyes instantly fell on the shade the building provided and the man standing within the shadows. He was by himself and scanning the crowd in front of him. She would have thought he had been waiting for someone until he turned slightly and she caught a glimpse of a handgun attached to his hip. 

Her eyes hesitantly moved from his figure as she began scanning once more. As she did, she found another standing by one of the vendors. His appearance stood out in the crowd. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand as she watched the second one for a moment. His movements were quick, but she watched as his hand fiddled with the comms in his ear. 

When she found a third making his way up the fire escape across the street from her building, that had become her queue to get out of there. After setting the mug on the counter, she began moving around the small space and collected her essentials. Her pace is quick, but thorough. 

Moving from place to place meant keeping things light at all times. Her getaway bag had maps and tools she needed to ensure she could get from one place to another. Tucked in a hidden pocket in the back of the bag, she had a yellow envelope with small mementos of her life before leaving the compound. Once she had what she needed she was out the door.

"There's my favorite rogue agent." A feminine voice came over the low murmurs of patrons speaking around them. 

Y/N's eyes rolled as she finally turned her attention to the woman that had been speaking. "What do you want, Valentina?" 

The moment Y/N heard Valentina step into the area, she had known she had overstayed her welcome in the city. She may have been across the country from the Avengers Compound, but it apparently wasn’t far enough for her to show up. 

“You mean I can’t come and visit you while you plan out your next move to completely avoid your ex boyfriend?” A close to genuine chuckle passed Valentina’s lips as she continued to move closer to Y/N before taking a seat next to her in a small cafe. “I must say you’ve gone soft over the years. The Y/N I knew when we first met wouldn’t have let someone such as James Barnes to drive her away. Let alone turn her back on not one but two organizations she showed loyalty to.”

“There’s a reason one of those organizations no longer exists and most members are dead.” Y/N’s eyes never left Valentina’s. She didn’t trust the woman at all and with her being there now, it couldn’t be good. “Some people refuse to be puppets.”

A small smirk pulled at the woman’s lips. “Yet here you are, hiding out in a cafe after spending the day on rooftops to get even the smallest glimpse of the man you betrayed. Seems to me he’s still holding the strings.” She watched as Y/N shifted through her emotions for the briefest of moments. “Such a shame the betrayal happened on your birthday. Must have been one hell of a party.” 

Before the words completely left Valentina’s lips, Y/N had her gun cocked and aimed at Valentina from under the table. While any other time she wouldn’t move to make a scene, Y/N acted on her emotions. “You were his informant. You handed him the file.”

Valentina rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Oh sweets, I have someone else to do my dirty work. I simply provided the information at a higher link."

Valentina may have heard the sound of the gun cocking back, but she made no move to act on it. She was calling Y/N’s bluff. It was a crowded cafe and she knew Y/N wouldn’t intentionally cause a midday scene with the Avengers still in the city. 

"What is it that you gain from giving it to him?" She asked with a raised brow. "Or was it for the satisfaction that you still have some ties into my life?"

A huff of a chuckle passed Valentina's lips as her eyes never left Y/N. "I did it because if given the right persuasion, I'd gain you without any loyalties to anyone or any organization."

“Wrong move. Because I’d rather be retired than have any kind of ties with you.”

“What if I told you I happen to come into possession of something that can remove that trigger in your head. Would you change your mind?" 

"I'd call you a liar and still want nothing from you. I'm safe from my triggers. They don't exist anymore." 

A huff came from Valentina. "You should know that there are a few others that are interested in having you with them. I'm your best shot at not letting you fall into the wrong hands. They're building from the ground up."

Y/N's eyebrow raised slightly. "I think I'll take my chances."

This wasn't the first time she was forced to move because someone had found her. After her interaction with Valentina, she was always keeping her guard up. Her past made her a valuable asset to have. Many tried bribing her before she kept herself under the radar. Others were planning on a more forceful approach. 

Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew that there was the possibility that there was someone out there that was crazy enough to try and keep Hydra going. While the Avengers and herself had taken out the bases, she knew there were smaller factions that were waiting for their big break. Their big break being the woman that can easily get what they wanted quickly. 

Following her escape route should have been easy. She had timed it out twice since moving in and it had been an effective way out of the town. If her pursuers hadn’t seen her yet, she’d be able to get away in record time. If they had, she'd have to find a way to push the time.  

The moment she reached ground level, she began merging herself in with the small crowds around the vendors. Her pathway out of town was to the west and from where she currently stood. Her eyes are constantly moving, taking in every detail to ensure her escape as quickly as possible. 

Two vendors down, she took note of the man she saw from her window. She watched as his eyes moved from the booth he was looking at, up to the apartments. No doubt looking at the window she had been standing in not too long ago. 

As she carefully made her way, she kept her eyes focused on the vendors as she passed him while keeping her ears open. She needed to know their current stance before making a run for it. The moment she was in proximity of him, she had been able to hear the partial conversations he had been having through his comms.

“She was just there.” There was a pause as he listened. Y/N stiffened a bit as her hand ran over a necklace hanging in front of her. Don’t run. It will bring unwanted attention. “Search the area. She couldn’t have gotten far.”

With that, Y/N moved in between two of the vendors before making her way down the street. She had almost been to the alleyway she had marked for her escape when she caught sight of another agent walking out of that exact alley way. 

Quickly thinking, she walked into the small tourist shop she had been in front of. The shop had several aisles of shelving that were filled with trinkets. She moved her way through the little shop, knowing there was a back entrance she could slip out through. 

"Alleyway clear." 

The moment the words were said, she backtracked her steps and moved back into the aisles. Shit. Her thoughts played as her eyes moved towards the front of the shop. She watched as two others ran right past the window of the shop. 

Knowing she was surrounded this time sent a spike of fear through her body. Her mind raced through several ways this could play out. One, she could fight her way out with the attention it would bring and run with the ability to lay low. Two, she'd fight and die in the process because she wouldn't let anyone take her to manipulate her. And then there was the third option. 

It was an option that she didn't know if it would work at all. She could lay low for as long as she needed to in order to get a message out before fighting long enough before being captured. But it was a matter if the person receiving the message would care enough to act on it. 

She bit her lips as she watched the agents from the opposite end of the street begin to close in. "Option three it is." 

She worked quickly to get the items she needed. Grabbing a postcard from the rotating rack, she made sure it had the little shop’s name on it. Second, she grabbed a small decorative box that had been on the shelf across the way. 

With both in hand, she began making her way towards the shop owner that had been standing there watching her the whole time. His eyebrow was raised with a small scowl on his lips as she approached the counter and she gave a soft smile, placing the items on the counter. 

She had been in his shop only once before. But it had been enough to know she could use him to help get her message out. Even now she could see the way the news clippings and posters of her former teammates hung directly behind him. 

"What if I told you I can get the Avengers to show up here to your shop?" She asked as she pulled out her old Avengers patch from her tactical suit and placed it on top of the items. The scowl on his face slowly formed into a smile and she knew she was in. 

It wasn't long after he had helped her get things in order when she heard the front door open. She could hear the heavy boots hit the tiled floor. 

Perfect timing. She thought as she gave the shop owner one more smile. "Sorry for any damage that's about to happen." 

The moment she finished, she felt a hand grab a hold of her shoulder. Out of instinct and all her years of training, Y/N was able to flip the agent over onto his back. A knife was easily in her hand, stabbing him right in the neck before he had even hit the ground. 

Another set of hands reached for her before she blocked his movements with her own arm. It allowed her to turn and face him as she dodged his blows and before swiping her legs right under his. With his fall, he crashed against one of the shelves of trinkets causing a shattering mess of figurines. 

As he moved to get up, Y/N looked around for anything to use to her advantage. At least that was until the shop owner held out a crowbar towards her. Her eyebrow raised for a moment before she shrugged and took a hold of it. Without a second thought, she swung the crowbar, hitting his head with full force, sending him back into the broken glass. 

A scoff passed her lips as she took in the mess before her. It had felt way too easy to her. She hadn’t even come close to breaking a sweat. Neither of them seemed prepared for what she was capable of. If they really wanted to take her down, it was going to take a lot more than they had been giving. 

Placing the crowbar on the counter, she leaned down and pulled the knife still lodged in the first agent. “Mail that out quickly. When they get here, make sure you stick-”

“To the instructions you gave.” The shop owner rolled his eyes. He motioned towards the front door. “If you’d be so kind as to leave before more of them come and cause more damage.”

She pulled the knife out quickly before she was moving out the door. It gave her the chance to move along a few of the shops towards the other alleyway she knew would make it out of the block to exit the town. Turning into it, she began running. 

As she neared the end, she braced herself for whatever would come next. Her escape had been too easy. Agents had barely put up a fight. And in the back of her mind, she knew. This is where they get her. 

The moment she ran out past the exit of the alley a shuddered gasp left her lips. A jolt of electricity pulsed through her body, immobilizing her. She fought to keep the scream that bubbled in her throat at bay, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing it. When she fell to the ground, she watched as the shadows of agents moved in on her. Before darkness could consume her, she watched as one of them stood over her.

“Welcome back to the fold, Phantom.”

_____

"Man, it sure is good to be back." Sam said the moment he stepped off the ramp of the quinjet. 

"Debrief is in an hour. Don't get too comfortable." Steve added as the rest of them made their way towards the compound. 

A few groans filled the air before they went their separate ways. Some of them went towards their rooms to free themselves from the tactical gear they were in. Others, in an attempt to not fully relax before the debrief, went into the common area. 

"Looks like we've gotten mail." Wanda noted as she walked past the countertop they were on, heading for the fridge.

"Does anyone else find it odd that you actually get mail here?" Clint asked. 

Sam collected the small stack of mail and started going through it. As he did he began handing them out the people currently in the room. 

"Can't hide from the bill collectors." Natasha joked as she reached out and got the singular piece of mail from Sam. 

"Bill collectors or fan mail." Sam added. When he reached the bottom of the stack an eyebrow raised. "Well that's a first." His eyes caught as Bucky moved further towards the seats by the back wall. "Barnes actually has mail." He began moving towards Bucky. 

"What, junk mail?" Bucky joked as he sat himself down in the arm chair. 

“Looks like fan mail.” Sam said as he handed him the post card. “Though it doesn’t say who it’s from or why they sent it.”

Bucky’s eyebrow raised as he took a hold of the postcard. A foreign gift shop covered the front of it. It was a place Bucky had never seen let alone heard the name of. When he turned the card over, he instantly knew who it was from. 

Y/N’s writing had been rushed. The Compound’s address is written along with his name. Right in the open block for a message had only been one single word. It took a moment before recognition registered in his brain at the phrase, causing him to quickly stand from his seat.

“Hypothetical scenario,” Y/N said as she looked over at Bucky as he looked out the window, keeping an eye on the target. She could see the way he slightly shook his head with a small smile pulling at his lips at her words before she even began. It was something she always did with him when they were stuck playing the waiting game. “If anything were to happen that we got separated and went missing. How would you let me know you were alive?”

Bucky spared a glance over at Y/N. “By showing up and proving that I can’t be easily gotten rid of.” His eyes moved back to the target. “I doubt with the technology Stark has, there’d ever be a need for this scenario.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Okay then let’s add onto the scenario. We’re not working with the Avengers and we’re two rogue agents out there in the world. Someone attempts to take us out and we need to lay low after that attempt to make sure it’s clear. How would you let me know you were okay?”

Bucky sighed and thought about it for a moment. “Postcard of where we are.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Send it to a previously discussed location. Maybe the next safehouse we planned. With a code word that makes no sense to anyone else.”

“What would the code word be?” She asked as she got up from her spot to go stand beside him. 

“For safe?” He watched from his peripheral as she nodded. Her eyes on their target. His mind could only think of one thing. The first time he knew he loved Y/N was over breakfast after an exhausting mission. One where pancakes may have burned since they had been distracted. “Pancakes.”

A laugh passed her lips. “Burnt or Regular?”

“While I prefer regular, the burnt ones make the memories.” He bumped his right shoulder against hers. She bumped hers back against his as they watched the target pace back and forth on the phone. “What if you were going to be late to the randevou?”

“Stark.” She said without hesitating, causing him to laugh. “That proves it's a perfect fit. Okay, worst ever possible case scenario. What if we know we’re being stalked- let's say by Hydra- and more than likely be captured. You only have enough time to write one word before sending it, what would it be?”

His brows furrowed at the mere mention of the scenario. Sometimes her hypothetical worried him but he always went along with it and thought about his answers. While he never believed they would ever need something to warn each other, he knew that one word needed to stand out. After a moment he nodded his head. “Siberia.”

Bucky’s widened eyes focused on the single word within the text block. Unlike how she rushed with the address, Bucky could tell she took the extra time to make sure this word was loud and clear. 

SIBERIA

"FRIDAY, how long ago did this arrive?" Bucky asked, never taking his eyes off of the postcard. 

The postcard was delivered three weeks ago. Two days after the team left for the mission. Threat level zero. 

His chest tightened. They had all been gone when the postcard got there. He hadn't been there when it had arrived. The only person that could decipher the single word on it had been nowhere near it when Y/N needed him to get the message. 

Three weeks he and the rest of the team had been out there dealing with the small weeds of Hydra that were starting to grow. Three weeks of making sure nothing would ever come from them poking their heads up from the ground. Three weeks of fearing that Y/N would be entangled in them somehow on her own free will. 

Even before the mission and in between, he spent several months checking in on safe houses and apartments along the way. It may have been brief moments of arriving but it was enough to give a thorough check in. All of the stops with one goal in common, looking for Y/N. 

Looking for her so he could apologize. Looking for her to make sure there was some proof she was alive out there. Looking for her to bring her back home with him. But she was good at keeping herself invisible. Good enough that part of him wanted to give up, but he couldn't bring himself to.  

Now, there was no telling what kind of trouble she was in before she had been captured. While part of him hoped it was any other organization attempting to get their hands on Y/N, he knew that wasn't the case. Not with that code word. 

An uncomfortable chill ran up his back and he had to stop himself from crumpling up the postcard in his hand as he dealt with the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling at that moment. 

"What is it?" Natasha asked, watching him. Bucky’s eyes moved towards her before looking at the others who were watching in curiosity. 

For a moment his brain shifted through every memory he had within the grasp of Hydra. Every scream he let out had echoed in his ears. The torment and conditioning he had been subjected to. It wasn't long before the visions of himself morphed into her being the one to experience it all. All of it screaming at him that everything has gone wrong. All because he forced her to leave. 

"It seems we missed a growing Hydra faction on our mission. It's from Y/N."  He hadn't missed the widened eyes at the mention of her name. "She sent the postcard. It's a warning and a plea for help. She's been captured by Hydra."