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rmnamjoons · 4 years

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Taking Flight [KNJ Oneshot]

➳ summary: More than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

➳ pairing: pilot!Namjoon x pilot!reader

➳ genre: smut, sci fi au, post apocalypse au, alien invasion au, rivals to friends to lovers

➳ word count: 15.2k

➳ read on ao3, link to my masterlist

➳ tags: smut, reunion sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, emotional loving sex, soft dom namjoon, dirty talk (no degradation), rivals to friends to lovers, sexually charged fight/sparring scene when they’re rivals, previously seemingly unrequited love/mutual pining, shower sex, multiple positions, namjoon is needy and so in love

➳ warnings: unnamed character death/death mention, blood mention, injury mention/vague description

➳ a/n: I know this is kind of a niche genre for smut fics; I primarily wrote this for myself, and I definitely had fun and like what I came up with! What’s the point of fanfiction anyway, if not to have fun? Also, this takes place over a few years, and I tried to portray how Namjoon was feral and angry when he was younger but is now a loving gentle giant. Enjoy!

Everybody lost someone in the attacks that killed most of the planet. Friends. Family. Partners. You had lost everything and everyone, like most people who’d lived in the cities that no longer had names — what once had been centers of commerce, tourism, and civilization were now nothing more than craters, and with so few left who remembered them, what they’d once been were now lost to time.

You'd only survived by chance, really. You and your family had been in a tunnel leaving the city, on foot like everyone else, and when everything had turned to chaos, you’d gotten lost from your parents and sister. You still remembered the way people screamed and ran through the tunnel, their voices echoing harshly off the cement walls. You’d spotted someone hiding off to the side in a utility room in the tunnel, and when the blast hit the city center, that person had made you hide in the room too, their body shielding yours from the hellfire, melting around you.

You were five years old then. You were pretty sure your sister had been eight. You couldn’t remember what your parents or sister looked like, or your house, or where you’d gone to school, other than vague flashes and shapes of people who’d once been your whole world. All you’d had with you were the clothes on your back, and even those had been taken away once you’d gotten somewhere safe and been given something clean to change into.

After the ships fell and surviving aliens left, it had taken years to clear the rubble and start over. The attacks that changed and destroyed everything had also been a gift, or so they now preached, in which humanity was able to grow, learn, and become united. The religions and cults who now worshiped the alien attackers believed humanity had deserved extermination, but you liked the more academic approach to the alien race’s lessons: the technology humans had been able to reverse engineer from their fallen ships.

One of the many ways humanity had advanced in the last few years was flight technology. Planes were faster, turned sharper, could go farther, burned cleaner energy. The one thing everyone seemed to agree on was how important Earth’s planes had been in beating them, so that was where all the technology and progress was focused now.

You loved planes and flying, you always had, but the real reason you wanted to be a pilot, you held much closer to your chest: your entire life, you always felt like the attacks when you were young were just the beginning. Like an unhealthy obsession or open wound, it was all you could think about sometimes, what drove your every decision, what led you to the Pilot Cadet Corps. You wanted to be part of the team that took them down if they ever came back. You wanted to be ready.

You were eighteen when you’d joined the Corps. You’d jumped on that opportunity the first moment you were able, without so much as a second glance back at what you left behind. You’d been adopted fairly soon after the attacks, but your adopted parents never felt much like family.

The first full year of Corps was bootcamp. Bunk rooms were co-ed, and every moment of your lives was dictated down to the second. You woke up at six in the morning and ran laps around the track. You had as much free time as you earned between whenever you finished your laps and when breakfast started at seven: the faster you ran, the more free time you got.

Eight to noon was physical training. After lunch was different depending on the day: three days a week you had mental training for whatever field you were going into, mostly flight simulation for the pilots. Another day was more combat training, and the last was an alternate, for first aid, written tests, marksmanship, and other courses along those lines. After that you had more physical training, like sparring and hand-to-hand combat, then dinner, then free time. Lights out was strictly at ten-thirty every night, and then you’d start it all over again the next day.

Now, you stood in line with the other cadets training to be pilots, waiting to hear your class ranks. Every month, they would announce a ranking of all cadets, a score averaged in test results, simulator scores, and overall performance. The better you ranked, the better your placement once you graduated.

“Third place, Park. Eighty-nine point nine,” the sergeant read off, making a small boy a few rows away from you puff up his chest in pride. You weren’t sure why anyone would feel proud of not getting an A, but you pushed that thought away.

You swallowed hard, holding your breath. There were only two spots left, and if you’d scored higher than Park, that meant you got an A and were either in second or first place out of the whole class. You didn’t know everyone’s names yet, so you weren’t sure who you were competing with.

“Second place, Y/L/N. Ninety-five point two.”

You heard the impressed murmur of others in the class before all of them were silenced by a firm look from the sergeant. Your heart sank, your hands curling into tight fists. Second place? You’d been so sure before now that you were working harder than all the other cadets. You were smarter than them, faster, more focused. Who the fuck had beaten you?

“First place, Kim. Ninety-five point three.”

Your brow furrowed. You weren’t sure who this Kim was, but you set your jaw, becoming determined to learn everything about them so you could beat them. Whatever their weaknesses were, you’d find them and exploit them.

You snuck a glance around you, trying to figure out who Kim was, and nearly jumped out of your skin when the tall boy next to you made eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow in the most smug, cocky, asshole-ish look you’d ever seen. That one singular eyebrow quirk, the corner of his lip curling up barely noticeably, all of it made you want to seethe and strangle him.

You’d noticed this man before, but had never thought much of him. He was taller than all the other men, but he hadn’t come off as particularly smart or extraordinary. This guy was the one who’d beaten you?

Now that you looked at him, you noticed he was definitely very muscular. Had he beaten your score through his strength? You could work harder at weight lifting and beat him. Were his test scores perfect? You could make yourself study even more.

Whatever it was that made him first place, you’d find out and beat him.

II.

In the following weeks, you began to wonder how you’d ever missed Kim Namjoon.

You and Namjoon both worked harder than everyone else. You both trained longer, started earlier in the morning and kept going until you were the last ones left. You both pushed yourselves harder than all of your other classmates, academically and physically. Before he was placed first in the class, you hadn’t even noticed him, but now he was the bane of your existence, and you existed only to beat him and come out on top.

You were faster and more agile, but Namjoon was by far stronger. You almost wanted to dispute the scoring system; what use was strength for a pilot? You weren’t soldiers. He needed fast reflexes and precision, not fighting skills or the ability to deadlift two hundred pounds. Was he planning on picking up planes and throwing them at the alien ships? It was so stupid.

The second month of bootcamp, you were the top of the class, and Namjoon was second place now. You smiled smugly to yourself and kept your eyes focused forward, staying perfectly at attention like the other cadets, but you could feel his eyes on you and almost sense his focused anger, that same emotion you’d felt when he’d first beaten you.

After the ranking announcements, you went to combat training in the gym, but your instructor called out both your name and Namjoon’s before you could even get started.

“I want the two of you to spar,” the instructor said as the two of you ran up. “No rules, just fighting. You can use boxing, wrestling, martial arts, whatever you want — just don’t kill each other.”

You narrowed your eyes at Namjoon, almost expecting him to refuse to fight you, for being a girl. Besides occasional glares, the two of you had never so much as said a word to each other, but you figured smug alpha male assholes were all the same.

But instead, Namjoon smiled and said, “All right.” He almost seemed eager to get in the ring and teach you a lesson.

Now, you eyed him from across the ring, how he was watching you with a smug little smirk as he wrapped his knuckles.

“To win, pin the other person’s back to the mat for five full seconds,” your instructor said carefully. “Their back has to fully touch the ground, not just shoulders. They don’t have to be conscious to be pinned.”

You and Namjoon made eye contact at that.

“Whoever wins doesn’t have to run laps next week. Loser runs double laps before eating. You both ready?”

You and Namjoon ended up drawing a crowd of spectators.

The moment the instructor said start, you ran, jumped, and wrapped your legs around his head, twisting and throwing him to the ground so that he was on his back and you stood over his head, smirking down at his stupid surprised face.

He’d hit the mat hard, the breath completely knocked out of him. A few people in the crowd murmured quietly to themselves and quietly asked each other if the fight was already over. You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself feel proud for a split second as you glanced at the spectators, but before you could register what was happening, Namjoon grabbed you by both your legs, making you twist and fall hard on your back, too.

You tried to crawl away from him, but he just pulled you under him by your legs, climbing on top of you and trying to hold you down with his hands. You arched your back as high as you could, touching the mat only with your shoulders and ass as Namjoon fought to grab your wrists. He was on top of you, straddling your abdomen and trying to keep you down without actually touching your chest, and you watched him bite his lip and heard him growl as he focused on not getting hit while you thrashed beneath him.

You brought your leg up and kneed his kidney as hard as you could, making him groan before moving back to pin your legs down too. You could now easily keep your back fully off the mat, but he was straddling you much lower now, bending over you and still trying to grab your arms. This close, you could smell him, his sweat and masculine scent mixed with the cheap soap you all were given, and you had to push aside the fact you kind of liked the way he smelled.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath. You watched Namjoon as he glanced down at your breasts, before his eyes snapped back up at your face, his eyes wide as if he were surprised he’d let himself look.

“Having fun?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Tons,” he growled, finally catching one of your hands and pinning it down by your wrist.

You hooked your leg up as far as you could, wrapping it around him and using his close proximity to your advantage. This seemed to catch Namjoon very off guard, and you felt more than heard him make a noise in surprise as you essentially embraced him, not giving him any space to move or do anything as you pulled your hand free and wrapped all your limbs around him, hanging off of him like a leach.

Namjoon sat back on his knees, and you held onto him, your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, waiting for your moment to use his weight against him and throw him on his back. He was squirming and wearing himself out, while you just squeezed him, hard enough you heard something in him crack.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, trying to pry you off of him. Before you could answer, he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head backwards, making you gasp and cry out. He started to force you off by getting his hands between your bodies, but you surprised him, grabbing his throat with both hands and squeezing.

Namjoon forcefully brought his hands down on your arms, bending them so that you let go of his neck, and now you were much closer to his face, nearly nose to nose as he still sat there on his knees with you hanging off of him. He held your wrists with both hands now as you tried to struggle free from him, and when you realized you couldn’t, you twisted one wrist, bringing his hand up to your mouth and biting down as hard as you could on the meat of his thumb.

He yelped and let go of you, but before you could use the moment to your advantage, he grabbed you and pushed you off of him, throwing you down away from him while he scrambled back and looked at his hand.

Your body bounced as you hit the mat, rolling a few times until you slammed against the edge of the ring. Namjoon was back on you before you could react, and you felt him behind you, trying to roll you over so he could pin you down on your back again. You brought your head back hard and connected with his nose, making him jump back again.

When you looked back at him, Namjoon was standing across the ring, holding his nose and glaring at you as you jumped to your feet too.

You circled each other for a moment, both closely watching the other’s every move like prey.

His nose was bleeding heavily, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat. You were pretty sure you had a bruised rib from him throwing you, your lungs burning from exertion from the fight. Everyone who’d been in the gym was now watching, none of them speaking as the two of you circled each other.

You ran at each other at the same time, Namjoon throwing a swing that you easily ducked. While his momentum was off, you punched him hard in the stomach, making him bend over in pain.

He was being sloppy, maybe distracted from his pain and anger, or maybe he was just more of a big clumsy oaf who relied on strength alone than you’d thought. You knew he was smart based on his test scores, but none of that appeared to translate to agility or finesse. He was fighting clumsy and angry, but you only felt more focused now, catching yourself smiling as you almost enjoyed yourself.

When you tried to strike him again, moving to hit your elbow between his shoulders while he was bent over, he turned and reached up, grabbing your neck with both hands. You broke his hold easily, and used that moment to bring your hand up and smack his injured nose.

Namjoon groaned in pain, holding his nose again. You grabbed his free hand, twisting it until he turned around and fell to his knees, yelling in pain, his arm bent painfully behind his back. You now stood behind him, Namjoon unable to move unless he wanted you to break or dislocate his arm, you on your feet with him on his knees.

“Do you forfeit?” you said, pulling his arm up another inch and making him hiss in pain. You could see how much he was sweating and panting, and ignored the way it sent a shiver of lust through you.

“You play dirty,” he seethed. Just standing close to him, you could feel the way heat radiated off of him. You’d noticed before that he was a sweaty guy, but now he was shining with it.

“I seem to remember being told that there were no rules for this fight,” you said, smiling proudly to yourself as you held the large man in place with one hand.

Instead of responding, Namjoon threw himself backwards into you, knocking you off your feet. You were on your back now and he was on his back on top of you, pinning you there. He had to have at least pulled his arm out of socket doing that move, and his body tensed from the pain, but he didn’t stop.

Namjoon pushed down with his shoulders as hard as he could, arching his back and standing up on his feet, bending his legs to put even more weight on just his shoulders to trap you there under him. You were crushed by him, barely able to breathe, let alone keep yourself fully off the mat.

He was so big and heavy, his shoulders wide enough to pin your arms down. You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment, what you hoped would give you an advantage again. You leaned in and bit down where his shoulder met his neck, the same side his arm was dislocated, and you bit down hard.

Namjoon yelped in surprise and pain, and you wrapped your arms around him in a chokehold so that when he tried to roll away, you went with him. He twisted in your arms until he was on top of you, facing you again, and this time you brought your knee up hard between his legs, his eyes closing as he groaned in agony.

You easily pushed him off and got on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning him down. Your knees pressed your full weight down on his biceps, including his injured arm, which made him groan in pain with every harsh exhale. He arched his back and tried to push you off of him, but he could barely move or reach you, his arms both pinned outward.

“Tired of getting your ass kicked yet?” you goaded, raising an eyebrow when Namjoon glared up at you. “How were you ever the top of our class? This is a little too easy.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, seething hard, blood all over his mouth and chin from his broken nose. His back still wasn’t technically on the ground though, so you needed to think of a way to make him stay down.

You were straddling his chest, so you moved your hips forward suddenly before throwing your whole body back, slamming yourself down hard and completely knocking the wind out of him. You simultaneously knocked him down so that his back was against the mat, and purposefully hit the back of your head against his crotch, which had to still be hurting from when you’d just kneed him a minute ago, so that he wouldn’t have the strength to get himself back up for a few seconds. You heard what you thought was a crack, which you really hoped wasn’t his crotch, before you heard and felt him groaning in pain.

The instructor counted out, and you won. You immediately jumped off of him and looked down at the damage.

Blood covered Namjoon’s chin, mouth, and neck, all from his nose wound, which you’d smacked more than once. He was bleeding from the bite on his neck, and his shoulder did not look right, pulled painfully out of socket and potentially broken. He rolled onto his side away from you and moaned, the hand of his arm that wasn’t dislocated over his crotch as he curled up in a ball on the ground.

“You all right?” you asked cautiously, stepping out of the way as the instructor rushed in to help him. Namjoon held up his middle finger to you, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily.

You snorted in amusement and went off to the locker room to shower.

That night, Namjoon limped into dinner.

You were sitting by yourself at a table near the back, reading a book written by a pilot from before the attacks. Namjoon sat down across from you, as if sitting together was something the two of you normally did.

His nose was badly bruised and taped up, definitely broken. Judging by the limp he’d come in with, you’d messed up something below deck. His arm seemed to have been popped back in socket, but you could see the bruising spreading over his collarbone under his t-shirt, and his arm was in a sling. He had bite marks on his neck and hand, and the one on his neck had needed stitches.

You tried not to smile to yourself.

“Y/L/N?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure of your name, like you two weren’t rivals constantly competing and you hadn’t kicked his ass a few hours ago.

“Kim,” you said, returning the formality.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you went back to eating, trying not to look over at him. He rested his non-injured hand on his stomach, and you wondered if you’d broken one of his ribs or if he was just hungry.

“You planning on eating?” you asked him after a moment.

Namjoon actually smiled, laughing to himself weakly.

“I don’t think I even have the energy to walk across the room to get food,” he murmured, his voice a little deeper than usual.

Without a word, you stood, walking straight across the room to get another plate of food. When you returned and placed it in front of him, he looked up at you with wide eyes, confused and shocked by your gesture.

“Do you need me to cut it up for you, too?” you teased, though glancing at his arm, you wondered if he’d actually need that.

Namjoon shook his head after a moment, glancing down at his plate.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. You saw a small, genuine smile on his lips, and you realized then for the very first time that he had dimples.

III.

The following week came, as did Namjoon’s punishment week for losing the sparring match. The first morning, you noticed him waking up earlier than everyone else to go start his laps, since he had to do double. You quickly got dressed and followed.

You ran up beside him as he slowly jogged around the track.

“What are you doing?” He looked over at you, furrowing his brow but not stopping.

“Running laps,” you answered flatly.

You ran the same number of laps as he did that morning, despite having won the right not to run this week. Namjoon, you learned, had a broken rib and pulled groin in addition to all the other stuff you’d done to him, and he’d been given an out and didn’t have to run any laps after all. Your instructor had told him that he needed to focus on healing and not accidentally hurt himself more. He didn’t have to do combat training or anything else physical until he was healed, but he still ran his punishment laps anyway, completely by choice, and so you ran them too, matching his pace the entire time, neither of you saying a word to the other.

Despite getting his ass kicked in the sparring match, the rest of the cadets viewed Namjoon as almost a superhero after that. They respected how well he’d taken a beating; he was the guy who kept fighting, even with half a dozen injuries and multiple broken bones. You were the only one who’d been able to best him, using just your speed to outwit him, and now the rest of the class respected you both even more. Namjoon was a nearly unstoppable tank, and you were the lithe fox that beat him.

As boot camp continued, you and Namjoon continued your quiet friendship, neither of you the overly gushy or warm type, both focused only on training. You studied together, and started helping each other instead of competing. Both of you only improved your scores and times.

Namjoon helped you with your physical training, helping you get stronger. You helped him with his marksmanship, precision, and speed. You regularly sparred and fought and pushed each other further. You studied together, fought together, ate together, did everything together.

The first year of Corps ended, and you entered the second year. This was more specialized, focused on specifically becoming a pilot with more time on flight training instead of physical and military training, which you still definitely had a lot of.

Your class was smaller now, but you still slept in a co-ed barrack. You and Namjoon picked spots next to each other this year.

One night during winter break, almost everyone else had gone home for the week, the two of you essentially having the base to yourselves. It was well past midnight and after lights out, but you and Namjoon laid in your beds talking quietly, both on your sides facing each other. You only had about a foot of space between your beds, and you could just barely make out his face in the dark.

Namjoon told you that he remembered the attacks, losing his family, everything. He’d had a sister too, and had lived in a suburb, not one of the cities. He didn’t explain further, but said that he remembered what happened to his family, and that he’d been found in the woods by himself weeks later. He’d only been seven years old at the time, and you wondered how the hell he’d made it on his own for so long.

You got the feeling he was used to being on his own, and didn’t let himself get attached to anything or anyone. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch him, put your hand on his shoulder and tell him he didn’t have to be alone anymore. But instead you sighed, ignoring the way his sad eyes made your heart ache.

IV.

Your second year turned into your third, and you and Namjoon only became closer. You both planned to go on to a fourth year of training, even though it wasn’t required, as it would give you higher credentials and clearance when you finished. Both of you still strived to be perfect, after all.

Halfway through your third year together, you realized Namjoon was the closest thing you had to family. You both saw each other pretty much every moment of every day. You both didn’t leave the base for holidays, so the longest you’d been apart since first meeting was a few hours, at most.

You were constantly together, even when you didn’t need to be. You woke up early and ran laps, even though you were no longer required to — only first year cadets ran laps, but you both continued because… you didn’t know why, and you didn’t question it. You loved running with him.

That first year together, Namjoon had been stoic and quiet. He didn’t talk much, unless directly questioned, and even then he kept his answers as concise as possible. You weren’t exactly talkative, but when the two of you talked to each other alone, especially in the past few years, Namjoon began coming out of his shell. When he wasn’t guarded and quiet, he was warm and funny, almost loving in his own kind of way. You got the feeling he was naturally full of love, but had pushed that part of himself down in the years he’d spent alone and in shelters.

Now, you were giving Namjoon a haircut. His hair grew weirdly fast, and there were rules about keeping everything, including hair, perfectly in uniform. Men had to have very short hair and be clean-shaven, which meant Namjoon had to get a haircut basically every other week.

When it was warm you did this outside, but now it was winter and you were in the locker room. While you worked, you talked about upcoming tests and other little things. You kept catching Namjoon looking up at you as you stood in front of him, between his spread legs, and he seemed to be getting bolder, watching your face outright instead of just stealing glances.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head back,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact you were blushing and flustered. Namjoon listened without a word, and you let yourself look at him for just a second; your faces were close, even with him sitting and you standing, because of how tall he was. You’d been obsessed with his lips lately, finding yourself fantasizing about them at the most inopportune times, thinking about how soft and full they looked and wondering what they’d feel like against your own.

Before you could pull yourself from your thoughts and start on the front of his hair, the power suddenly cut out.

You let out a small gasp, but this wasn’t exactly surprising around here. The power went out often because of the testing they were doing with switching over completely to alien tech for larger power structures. Still, you’d gasped in surprise because you’d been so focused on Namjoon’s face, and now the two of you were alone together in a dark locker room.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

Of course you were okay; the lights had just gone off.

“Yeah,” you answered anyway. You moved your hands from over his head to his shoulders, feeling him in the dark.

“It’ll be back on in a second, we’re okay,” he said, his thumbs moving slightly, like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know,” you said, your voice sounding small. You weren’t afraid at all, but you didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.

The lights came back on then, and you looked down at him. Namjoon smiled up at you, dimples on full display, and it nearly took your breath away. He had a little piece of cut hair on his cheek, which you gently brushed away, and he wrinkled his nose at you, making your heart ache.

You finished giving him his haircut, and afterwards he pulled off his shirt and went over to one of the showers, to wash off the pieces of hair you’d cut. You gathered up the electric razor and your other belongings while you heard him undressing behind you, turning on the shower and humming happily to himself.

You stopped yourself from looking at him as you walked out of the room and went back to the barracks, refusing to let yourself think about him showering or the way he’d looked at you.

VI.

Your last year of training was mostly just the two of you working together and with various superior officers. You’d get promotions and rank changes after some time in the field, but you’d start out as Senior Airmen, and would probably both make Staff Sergeant within a few years of graduating. There were no wars or active duty anymore, but it meant you’d both be given leadership positions, if ever the need arose.

After graduation, you and Namjoon would both receive your assignments and placements. You’d both requested to be placed together, without requesting anything else. You could be sent anywhere in the world, given any position; you didn’t care where you ended up though, as long as you were with him.

Since it was your last year, you were both given proper rooms instead of barracks. The rooms were small and minimal, but your room was right across from Namjoon’s. You spent a lot of time in each other’s rooms, even sometimes sleeping over.

Now, you laid on Namjoon’s bed in his room, while he sat at the chair by his desk with his feet propped up on the end of his bed. He was playing with a stress ball, passing it back and forth between his hands. You’d finished all your testing and training, so you were both basically just resting until graduation, anticipating your placements. It was late at night, the rest of the base quiet and sleeping.

“Dream placement,” you said, turning your head and pointing at him. “Go.”

“Oh, man…” Namjoon rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Southern California.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What’s in Southern California, besides desert?”

“That’s the closest base to where the first ship went down. They’ve got the best tech out there, the best planes.”

“Okay, true,” you sighed. “But there’s nothing out there for miles. There’d be nothing to do.”

“What else is there, besides flying?” Namjoon threw the little ball he was playing with gently so it bounced off the wall beside you and landed on your stomach.

“I like flying and being able to see something besides sand, rock, and craters for hundreds of miles,” you said, tossing the ball back to him.

“You feel like you’re going faster if you don’t have anything to look at,” he said, catching the ball with one hand and tossing it behind him onto his desk.

“You also get lost easier,” you laughed, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Not if you’re a good navigator,” Namjoon laughed too, standing up and moving onto the bed with you. He wasn’t exactly tickling you, but he was touching your body and you were both giggling as he laid down beside you.

“If you want to feel like you’re going fast, then just go fast,” you said, your hands on his shoulders now as you grinned up at him. He was partially on top of you, partially beside you as he smiled down at you, his mouth so close to yours.

“I want to go even faster,” he said, but he stilled suddenly, looking down at you with wide eyes. He seemed to have suddenly realized the position the two of you were in, and he moved so that he was just beside you, laying on his side as you laid on your back.

You sighed. It was always like this — not that you were complaining, because you loved the relationship you already had with him. But lately, you’d get so close, almost kissing, almost embracing, almost something, and then he’d back off. You still loved the moments before, where you could forget that you were just friends and pretend you were something more, as much as it ended up hurting your heart in the long run.

Even now, you loved this. Namjoon propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you as you continued talking, a different topic now. Your mouths were only a few inches apart. It would be so easy for him to just lean down and kiss you, like you wanted him to so badly.

Namjoon’s hand that wasn’t supporting his head rested on your stomach. You put your hands there too, playing with him, feeling his long fingers and how big his hand was, and Namjoon let you, pretending not to notice.

You talked about graduation plans, life plans, little nothings that made each other sadly smile. Neither of you said it, but you both worried you wouldn’t be placed together.

“What’s your dream placement?” he asked you gently, his voice soft.

“You know, I don’t even care,” you said. Because it didn’t matter where they put you as long as you were with him, but you didn’t say that.

That night the two of you fell asleep like that, in that position. It wasn’t the first time.

VII.

When you woke up, you could feel Namjoon’s gentle breathing on your neck. You turned your head and looked at him, studying his expression in the early morning calm.

He was still on his side facing you, so now you were face-to-face, your foreheads and noses only a few inches apart. His hand still rested on your stomach, and you still held his hand there with both of your hands. You felt his fingers twitch a little in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about. His other arm was under the pillow now, and through it you could almost feel the swell of his bicep and warmth of his skin.

You only ever let yourself really look at him like this when he was sleeping, when the two of you had sleepovers in each other’s rooms. You studied the shape of his nose, the way his big, plush lips parted, the puffiness of his cheeks as he relaxed and breathed, every freckle and mole on his face that you wanted to kiss so badly. Cuddled up with him like this, you could feel how warm he was; Namjoon was a furnace of a man, and you’d gotten so used to sharing a bed with him the past few months, you now had to layer up and sleep with an extra blanket whenever you slept alone.

Namjoon sighed then, shifting a little in his sleep. You quickly closed your eyes and turned your head back so you weren’t facing him directly, in case he opened his eyes.

You felt him moving, shifting so that his arm was hugging you instead of his hand just resting on you. His hand was now on your side, below your armpit, his thumb on the side of your breast. He sighed and seemed to fall back asleep, softly snoring again after a few moments.

You laid like that for a while, enjoying this feeling, knowing you’d never have this for real. You'd never wake up next to Namjoon in the context you wanted, but this was more than enough for you. You were so in love with him, but he didn’t see you the same way, so you’d enjoy waking up in his arms for as long as you could.

When Namjoon eventually woke up on his own, he seemed to slowly realize the position you were in, moving his hand down carefully to more platonic territory. You opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him, and were caught off guard by the way he was staring at you so openly, looking down at your mouth for a few moments before looking back at your eyes with an expression you couldn’t name.

“Y/N,” he murmured, so softly you could barely hear him, but you could feel the rumble of it in his chest. You didn’t say anything, both of you just looking at each other in the peaceful quiet stillness of early morning, the only noises both of your gentle breathing.

Namjoon moved his hand up to your shoulder, and then his hand was cupping your cheek, brushing your hair back from your face. The tips of your noses were almost touching, his warm breath on your lips. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against yours, your heart almost stopping in your chest from how close he was. He’s never done anything like this before, and you definitely were not going to stop him.

He turned his head slightly, your foreheads still connected as the tip of his nose skimmed along your cheek, by your nose. He brushed his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel him, his eyes still closed. You could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek, and prayed he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was racing or how you nearly whimpered at his every touch.

Namjoon moved and brushed his barely parted lips against the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw. His hand on your cheek, he stroked your skin with his thumb slowly, touching you, feeling you. His leg moved up slowly, hooking over yours, and you spread your legs for him. You couldn’t even think straight right now, the only things your brain were processing were the touches and sensations Namjoon was giving you.

What the hell was he doing? The thought of him seeing you romantically, the same way you saw him, had seemed so impossible before now, but now, as he brushed his lips against your skin, you wondered if he’d been longing the same way you had.

Namjoon turned your head carefully, slightly away from him, so that you were looking directly up again. He kissed your cheek closer to him while he stroked the other, pressing gentle open-mouthed kisses down your face and neck as he slowly moved himself on top of you. You, matching his slow movements, wrapped your legs loosely around him and held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon kissed your skin as lightly as he could, feeling you anywhere you’d let him, and you were lost in him. He switched to your other side, kissing your collarbone and neck and jaw, and one of his hands moved up behind your head, tangling in your hair. Every movement was slow and deliberate and gentle.

You never would’ve guessed Namjoon was the gentle type, but now that this was happening, it made sense and you craved it. He closed his lips lightly against your earlobe and you gasped loudly, trying to arch up against him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your ear. “So soft, so perfect, my angel, my love.” His voice was so warm and deep, and you quietly whimpered, holding onto his shoulders even tighter. You felt like he could make you come just from this, just from his light touches and hearing his deep voice praise you. You'd wanted him so badly for years now, you’d dreamed about him, fantasized nonstop, and now here he was, and the tension was already building up for you.

He hadn’t even fully kissed your mouth yet. Namjoon pressed his lips against your cheek, caressing the other side of your face with his hand, just holding your body so close to his. You swore you could die right now and be fine with that.

An alarm suddenly blared, and both of your bodies stilled and tensed.

Namjoon jumped off of you and sat back on his legs, looking around the room like he was expecting to see what was happening written on the walls. You sat up too, looking around. Your legs were still spread, your brain still hazy from Namjoon’s kisses, and you looked at him as you saw him working through what was happening.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said, quickly jumping up. He sat back down on the side of his bed long enough to put on his shoes. “Come on,” he said, pulling you up when he stood again.

You snapped yourself out of your lust-haze. The alarm was still going off, which meant something major was happening right now. It wasn’t just a test.

You left, quickly scampering across the hall to your own room so you could get dressed.

You and Namjoon met up in between your rooms a moment later, both in uniform, and ran down together to where the rest of the base had gathered, Namjoon taking your hand in his as you ran.

VIII.

It was another attack, like when you were young.

You all stood there at attention receiving orders, none of you looking anywhere except forward blankly. This was it, everything you had trained for, the exact reason you’d trained so hard. They were back.

You and Namjoon were both assigned as squadron leaders to two different units, Namjoon to Red One and you to Blue One. Those were two of the best, most elite units of fighter jets, but you looked over at him when you got your assignments. You weren’t together, so you wouldn’t know if he was okay until after it was all over.

You were all dismissed and had fifteen minutes to get to your planes and prepare for launch. You went straight to your plane, not stopping to talk to Namjoon. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave him once you looked at him, so it was better to just pretend this morning hadn’t happened.

You were just starting to climb the ladder up to your plane when you heard his voice.

“Not saying goodbye?”

You froze in your tracks, but didn’t turn or look at him. You couldn’t make yourself say anything, instead just staring straight in front of you with your hands on the rungs of the ladder.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice much softer now as he walked over to you. The planes were close together so you were in tight quarters, and he stood right behind you, his hands not quite touching your sides.

“What?” you said, not looking back at him.

“Please don’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said. You'd never heard his voice like this. Quiet, pleading, loving. It was like this morning in bed, but more desperate, yearning, begging you to look at him.

You started to move up the ladder without turning around, and he put his hands on your hips, stopping you. He immediately let go, not wanting to trap you there.

You sighed and turned around to face him, only partially, still a step up on the ladder so you were just slightly taller than him. You reached back and held onto the ladder with one hand as you looked at him.

When you saw the expression on his face, it took your breath away. He looked almost tearful, sick with worry, trying to be stronger than how he obviously felt.

“Goodbye,” you said softly, bringing your free hand up to his cheek.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and tried to smile weakly. His hair was getting a little long, you noticed then for some reason. He was supposed to keep it short to stay in uniform, but now it looked long enough for you to run your fingers through.

Namjoon’s eyes were wide and innocent, searching your face. Around you, the base was chaotic and busy as other pilots ran to their planes and officers barked out orders and engines started up. The two of you just stood there in your quiet moment, both a lot less excited about your first mission than you’d thought you’d be, everything happening so much sooner then you’d both thought and on such a larger scale than you ever could have anticipated. You remembered almost wanting this when you were young, promising yourself that you’d be ready if they ever came back. Maybe the universe was punishing you; whenever you loved someone, the universe immediately sought to take it from you. Your family when you were young, and now Namjoon.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you or tell you something. He parted his lips and glanced at your mouth, his brow furrowing as he breathed, and he looked back up at your eyes, his expression so worried.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, smiling gently.

You turned and climbed up into your plane without another word.

There had been twenty pilots in your squadron when you left, and four when you returned.

You didn’t really remember the aliens from when you were little, but you’d seen countless videos. You knew what they looked like, how they performed, what their technology was supposed to be like, what their weaknesses had been.

You saw so many planes go down. The alien ship had a different defense than last time, and the fight was only over when the alien ship suddenly left and moved on, seemingly just because it wanted to, not because the humans posed any kind of threat to it. When it left, it had taken out an entire city, just like last time. The town near the base had only recently gotten its infrastructure set up.

You and your three surviving pilots returned first out of all the other squadrons. You quickly climbed out of your plane and ran down to the hangar, asking about the other pilots still out there. You needed to know if Namjoon was okay.

Before you even got to the hangar, another alarm started blaring. A plane near you exploded, and you spun around, looking up at the sky.

There had to be over a hundred alien ships in the sky, all firing on the base and the planes.

“Get inside, now!” you yelled, pointing at the pilots from your squadron who’d ducked down near their planes. You knew the base had a bunker, and the number of people at the base now could easily survive down there long-term.

There was panic as people got down there as fast as they could, all climbing over each other and yelling. You stayed back where you could see the sky, ducking down in a safe spot and watching as long as you could. You only saw alien ships, none of your own.

You imagined Namjoon’s last seconds. If he hadn’t made it back to the base, there was no way he’d survive. The ships would find him. You could only see the planes you’d seen exploding earlier, hear the voices of the pilots in your squadron on your coms as their ships exploded. A cut-off shout, and then nothing.

You finally made yourself run down to the bunker. In the distance, you could hear the ships destroying every visible part of the base, every last truck and car and plane and tank exploding as the blasts hit them. The walls shook and lights flickered and dust fell from the ceiling as you made your way down the stairwell to the bunker.

Over the destruction above you, you could hear Namjoon’s voice that morning in his bed, the world frozen around you then, the only things that mattered his large, gentle hands, his slow, exploring mouth, and his soft voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d breathed against your neck. You'd been able to feel his smile, the tip of his nose tracing your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You'd never felt safer than when you were laying in bed with him.

You pushed the door of the bunker shut behind you, your hands shaking and eyes welling up. You could not think about this; you had to push all of that aside for now. You had a job to do.

After about five minutes down in the bunker, the lights went out. The weak backup generator kicked on near-immediately, but now there was no connection to the outside world. If any pilots managed to survive this long, the base wouldn’t know about it or have any way of contacting them.

When you’d taken off, both you and Namjoon had been promoted to captains, to lead your squadrons. Once all of the remaining people at the base were down in the bunker and accounted for, you were promoted again, this time to major.

Almost everyone out of the thousand or so people on the base had gone out to fight. The only people who’d stayed behind were ground control officers, technicians, first years, civilians who worked on the base, and the top few people in charge. There were maybe a few hundred people down in the massive bunker now, and you ranked sixth in command out of all of them.

Namjoon would’ve been so jealous you outranked him, you thought with a small smile.

VI.

Four days passed with no news.

There was no service. There was no internet, radio, or any connection to the outside world.

You were itching to get out. There was no news from the outside world, but there also hadn’t been any explosions since the first day. The alien ships had to be gone by now. On the second day, you’d tried to suggest to the general that you could go up to the surface and see if an evacuation could be planned, but the general and other officers had all said that there was no need to evacuate, because there were plenty of supplies down here. They would continue to work on regaining communications with other bases, and nothing else immediately mattered until then.

Now, you were on your cot, staring at the ceiling above you. It was the middle of the night and just about everyone else was asleep. Most people slept on cots in what looked like an old gym, all lined up in long rows. Everyone had been given two changes of clothes, all gray jumpsuits. You felt like you were in prison.

The scratchy wool blanket was pulled up to your neck. You tried to imagine sharing the cot with Namjoon, the two of you squeezed onto the spot only meant for one and giggling when you just barely fit. You imagined him spooning you, kissing your neck and shoulder and holding you close to him. You imagined feeling his heartbeat in his chest. You imagined his face when his plane exploded.

It wasn’t fair. You’d literally just become something more than friends, maybe, kind of. Your relationship with Namjoon meant everything to you, and it had suddenly been changing in such amazing ways, and then he’d immediately been taken from you.

You refused to cry about this. You refused to even accept he was gone. There were ways he could’ve survived. There had to be. He could’ve flown low and ejected and hidden in the rubble of the city. Except he wasn’t a coward; you knew him, and you knew he was the type to win or die fighting. He could’ve led other survivors away from the city. Except there was no way these planes could’ve outrun the alien ships. They weren’t fast enough.

There had to be a way. You had to get up to the surface and find out. You had to find him.

VII.

After one week down in the bunker, you felt like you were going out of your mind.

You had a plan. You were going to go to the surface whether they let you or not. You were going to find Namjoon, or at least the remains of his plane. You were going to find him or find closure.

You needed climbing gear to get up the destroyed stairwell. You’d need to find rope and gear, a lot of water, and survival supplies. You began your plan, looking around for spare supplies nobody would notice was missing until you were gone. You knew where to find rope, but you had to figure out how to acquire and carry enough water. Plus you would need to bring medical supplies, in case Namjoon was injured. God, you could just imagine him, laying somewhere, bleeding out and barely conscious. You wondered if he’d thought of you, imagined you coming to save him.

You were seconds away from stealing rope from a supply closet when a short little man walked around the corner.

“Major?”

You froze in place. You weren’t in the room yet; you were innocent.

“Yes?” you said, smiling politely.

“The general wants to see you,” he said, and left without adding anything else.

Shit. How had they known? You hadn’t done anything yet, or told anyone or written anything down.

You made your way to the command center. Not much was going on there in the way of commanding anything, but it was where the higher ups — which now included you — met, and it was where they were attempting to reestablish communications with the outside world.

The room was busy with officers buzzing around. There were a lot of exposed wires hanging out of the walls. It looked like they were rebuilding a computer system circa 1970.

“Major,” the general said, motioning you over.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re the highest ranking field officer, so this goes to you first,” he said, handing you a manila folder. “We’ve established communication with a base a hundred and fifty miles from here, but only briefly. They said they have seven survivors from our base. They didn’t say who.” The general quickly added the last part when he saw your face light up at the mention of survivors.

You glanced down at the folder. Before you could speak, the general continued.

“We need someone — a pilot — to go up to the surface and see if any planes are still intact, and if so, fly to Walker Base. If there aren’t any planes left, we’ll probably have you try to find a car, or hike if you have to. We need to get our relay codes to that base, and once we do, we’ll have full communication with them again. You up for it?”

You looked up at the general, smiling.

VIII.

It took you about an hour to climb the staircase. Most of it was rubble and a lot of it involved throwing up a rope and securing it on something to climb the huge gaps where the stairs had fallen out, but you eventually got to the top, pushing aside debris to get yourself outside.

The base was gone. There was no way any planes survived this. Still, you walked out onto the strip, just in case.

Some of the piles of charred metal were still smoking. A few small fires were still going, most of them out in the lot, where jet fuel must still be feeding them. You tried to see if you could spot where your and Namjoon’s rooms used to be, but it was all just rubble, ash, and charred cinderblocks.

You walked down the landing strip, looking at the piles of scorched plane parts, blasted to nothing. Pieces of metal jutted up, a plane wing here, a part of engine there. Every pile you saw, you imagined seeing Namjoon’s body among them. You knew if he was dead, he wouldn’t be here, he’d be out in the city — but seeing all of the destroyed planes wasn’t helping.

You stopped in your tracks.

At the end of the landing strip, under a broken wing of a much larger plane, was the most beautiful F-15 Eagle you had ever seen.

You ran to it, climbing on it when you reached it and pushing aside the wing of the bigger plane until it clamored to the ground. You climbed into the cockpit, dropping your backpack with supplies and the relay codes into the little compartment, feeling nearly dizzy in euphoria. You prepped the jet for takeoff, everything going smoothly, and you imagined Namjoon’s face when you showed up at the base. He’d be so happy to see you, but so surprised, and when you told him that you got promoted to major–

You stopped for a moment, your smile falling as you stared blankly at your hands on the switches and dials.

You didn’t know if he was one of the survivors at the other base. You shouldn’t get your hopes up just to show up and find out he wasn’t one of the pilots who made it. For all you knew, you’d get there and one of the pilots from Namjoon’s squadron would tell you all about how he died.

You focused on the task in front of you. You were on a mission, first and foremost, to get the relay codes to the base. That was the important thing right now, not yourself or Namjoon.

You got the plane prepped and ready to go. The center of the runway was clear, since most of the planes had been gone.

F-15s were always your favorite.

IX.

You didn’t attract any alien attention while flying, thankfully. You got there in just over twenty minutes; around the fifteen minute mark, you slowed down and the base contacted you on your descent into their airspace. You had to identify yourself and state your intentions, but the base seemed completely willing to let anyone human land.

When you landed, a few people ran out and took care of your plane for you, as you were escorted inside. You handed over the relay codes and quickly asked if you could see the survivors from your base.

“Most of them were pretty shell-shocked when they got here, but they’re soldiers. They know how it is,” the officer escorting you said as the two of you walked. “How many survivors at your base?”

“Three hundred and forty-two,” you said flatly, staring straight in front of you as you walked. “We had four pilots including myself return, the rest were non-flight officers and civilians. No casualties on the ground, but the base was destroyed in an aerial attack shortly after we landed.”

“Yeah, we heard about that. That’s why we got your other pilots,” the guy said, motioning in front of him in the direction you were walking, assumedly at the surviving pilots. “They didn’t have anywhere to land and thought the base was gone, so they came here. All from different squadrons, but led by one captain.”

You perked up when you heard that. A captain had survived.

You really did try not to get your hopes up. Your base was huge; there were so many squadrons, only one captain surviving was not good news for Namjoon. Still, you were hopeful.

You were led to a barrack where a few pilots were sitting around together, all men looking bored out of their minds. You recognized Park from your training class, and a few others as well. You scanned their faces quickly, looking from person to person, desperately searching for him, frantic and anxious and despairing when you looked and didn’t see him–

“Y/N?” a voice said from behind you, and you spun around.

Namjoon had walked in behind you from the other direction; he looked like he’d just taken a shower, from the wet hair, clean clothes, and bag over his shoulder, which he dropped as he stared at you in disbelief.

Neither of you even said anything. You were only about ten feet apart already, but you immediately met in the middle, desperately grabbing at each other, hugging tightly. Your legs were up around his waist and he held you to him as he kissed all over your face. The room was spinning or maybe Namjoon was just spinning you around, you didn’t care, you just held onto him and tried to kiss him, one hand in his hair and the other arm around his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

As much as you wanted and tried to kiss him, Namjoon was just too much; it was like he was trying to kiss every last millimeter of your face at least twice. He was holding you so tight you almost couldn��t breathe, but you didn’t even care. His skin, his hair, his mouth, his kisses were all the most amazing things you’d ever felt. You were pressed chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around each other, and you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping along with your own.

Namjoon stopped kissing you long enough to nuzzle against you, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against yours, nearly animalistic.

“I missed you so much, my love,” he breathed. You swore his face was wet with tears, his cheek still pressed against your own. “I haven’t thought about anything other than you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you this whole time, I love you so much… god, fuck, when I thought I’d lost you…” He started kissing your cheek again desperately, his hand coming up to hold your other cheek and hold you in place.

“I missed you too,” you gasped, your voice small and high-pitched as you tried and failed to hold in your tears.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he kept repeating, not even stopping speaking as he kissed you, so some of his words were muffled.

“I love you, too, Joon,” you managed to say before he kissed your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you so deeply it took your breath away.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” somebody else in the room said then. “Do you guys want us to, like, leave or something?”

Namjoon stopped, catching his breath as you turned your head to look back at the six other pilots and the officer all awkwardly watching you.

“Uh, sorry,” you muttered, putting your feet back on the ground and turning around. Namjoon kept touching you, not taking his hands off you, even as you faced the others.

“I know you both outrank us, but get a room,” a different pilot laughed, his smile boxy and voice deep.

“You have a room, actually,” the officer that led you in said, perking up like that was his cue.

“We do?” Namjoon asked, confused. He stood behind you, hands on your hips, tall enough to see over your head.

“She does,” the officer gestured to you. “She’s a major. All superior officers class O4 and up get their own private room.”

“Major?” Namjoon said, tilting a little to look at your face. You smiled to yourself smugly.

“I can take you there now,” the officer said, motioning to the door behind him.

Namjoon stepped to the side and looked down at the ground shyly, glancing up at you and pouting. You wanted to roll your eyes; he actually thought you weren’t going to invite him to come with you.

“You too,” you said, holding out your hand for him.

Namjoon beamed, and quickly picked up his bag and jogged over to what must be his bed, grabbing the few belongings he had, and shuffled back over to your side, taking your hand and kissing you on the cheek before following along with you.

“Go get it, captain,” one of the pilots jeered at him, the others all snickering and wolf-whistling as Namjoon dropped your hand long enough to flip all the other pilots off while the officer led the two of you out and down the hallway.

As soon as the door was shut behind you in your room, the officer gone and the two of you alone, Namjoon dropped his belongings and picked you up again, your legs tight around him, the two of you kissing again. You felt your back against the cold metal of the old-fashioned blast door, one of Namjoon’s hands holding your face.

“How’d you get here?” he murmured against your neck after a moment, kissing your cheek between gasps. “They said the base was destroyed, no contact.”

“The attack happened right after I landed. Everyone got down in the bunker, no casualties on the ground,” you gasped, still a little short on breath. As you spoke, Namjoon kissed your neck, working his way up to your jaw. “They needed a pilot to bring relay codes here.”

“What’s this about you being a major now?” he said, smirking, his lips not leaving your cheek.

“Got an upgrade while you were gone,” you said, and then you gasped, laughing as Namjoon suddenly sucked your skin over your pulse on your neck, leaving behind a deep purple hickey.

“Well, Miss Major, that means you outrank me now,” he said, leaning back enough to smile at you, his expression a mix of mischievous and proud.

He stepped backward then, still supporting you with his arms, and walked back until he got to the bed, sitting down on it. He laid back, pulling you down on top of him gently, your mouths connected the whole way down.

He was the best thing you’d ever felt, his large, firm body contrasting his gentle touches and kisses. You couldn’t get close enough to him, but it was slow, lazy, loving, everything you’d ever wanted with him, his soft tongue in your mouth, his firm arms around you, his warm body under you.

You couldn’t get over how good he smelled. There was the soap he’d just used, but you’d known him and been close to him long enough to know his scent. He tasted so good too; he swirled his tongue with yours slowly, tracing lazy patterns on your tongue, kissing you so deeply your head spun. His hands rested on your back, his fingers spreading wider as he tried to touch more of you.

You parted for air as he rolled you both, holding your body to his with one hand as he pulled you up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as he gently laid you down. Even though you would’ve only fallen a few inches and the bed was soft, he set you down like you were made of glass, looking down at you with love and hearts in his eyes, not breaking eye contact as he gave you a small, warm smile.

His dark hair was mussed up a little from you running your fingers through it, and it looked fantastic on him. His face was flushed and his parted lips were red and a little swollen, and he looked like he’d been crying, or was about to cry, or both.

You pulled him down to you and kissed him again. He set his body against yours, lining himself up with you as you wrapped your legs around him. You were both still fully clothed, but you could feel him, pressed perfectly against you from your collars to his growing erection and your throbbing core.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, grinding slowly against you. “I’ve loved you for so long, I wanted to die when I thought something happened to you and I never told you. I promise I’m going to tell you now, every single day, every time I see you, every time we make love, every second of every day–” He cut himself off by kissing your neck desperately, moving down toward your breast.

“I love you, my angel. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world, I love you so much,” he said, kissing along your skin frantically by the collar of your ugly flight jumpsuit. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing up the center of your chest toward your clavicle. His messy hair tickled your chin, and you rested one of your hands on the back of his head as he worked, gently stroking his hair.

“I love you too,” you managed to say, though words weren’t really coming to you right now, with all Namjoon was doing to you.

Namjoon got up then, and you watched for a moment as he started quickly stripping off his clothes. You sat up too, pulling off your jumpsuit, and Namjoon got all but his boxers off before your arms were even out. He helped you, running his hands along your skin as you peeled off the jumpsuit, leaving you in just the undershirt and shorts you’d had on underneath.

There was a moment where the two of you just sat there looking at each other. You’d both seen each other in this context — nearly naked — before, from sleeping in the same room to swimming to other random things you’d done together over the years, but this was the first time it was ever like this.

Namjoon raised his hands slowly, his fingers just barely skimming against your hips. His eyes were on your breasts, his mouth nearly watering, and you smiled at that. He looked up at you, his eyes innocent and showing every emotion he had within him; he was asking for permission.

You brought your hand up to his face and kissed him slowly, savoring every movement of his lips, the feel of his tongue, the taste of him. His hands went to your thighs and helped you wrap your legs around him, and then you were laying down again, Namjoon on top of you.

He kissed down your chest, this time simultaneously running one of his hands up your stomach under your thin undershirt. He cupped your breast with that hand, feeling you fully, while his mouth kissed back up to your neck. He got your undershirt off without either of you having to get up, though he did have to lean back a little to give you room to wiggle around, and then he unhooked your bra and threw that and your undershirt somewhere behind him.

Namjoon swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, gently squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger slowly while sucking the other, just barely using teeth and making you gasp, and then he switched sides, doing the same thing again.

“That feels so good, Joonie,” you sighed, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself. You stroked his hair while he worked, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. Every moment or so, you’d let out a moan for him, tightening your fingers in his hair whenever he did something that made you see stars, and he’d hum back to you, responding without taking his mouth off you.

Namjoon moved down your abdomen, kissing every rib, every freckle, every last inch of your skin. He dipped his tongue into your belly button and you gasped and giggled, feeling his grin against your skin as he kissed down your navel, his tongue tracing along the edge of the little shorts you still had on.

You reached down and tried to pull off your shorts, but Namjoon’s hands replaced your own, slowly pulling just your shorts off and leaving your panties. He tossed your shorts the same direction he’d tossed your bra, and then looked down at you, sitting back on his legs. Your legs were spread wide, your soaked panties the only thing covering you, your eyes desperate for him, your breasts rising and falling as your breath quickened in anticipation and need for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his expression almost dazed in love and adoration. He looked like he didn’t know where to look, his eyes scanning your face, your breasts, your spread thighs, the spot on your panties where you were already wet and soaking for him. You bit your lip and whimpered, and he closed his eyes, sighing and smiling to himself, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Namjoon bent over and kissed your ankle, slowly, chastely. He moved to the other side and repeated that, kissing your anklebone. He moved up your calf, staying on that side, kissing you over and over and moving so slowly you started to whine for him, begging him to go faster and reaching down for him. He reached up and took one of your hands, holding it and lacing your fingers together as he continued what he was doing, not at all speeding up.

He kissed your knee, the side of it, the front of it, and tilting your leg gently to kiss the back of it. He moved up, kissing your inner thigh while still holding your hand. You spread your legs further for him, whimpering and squeezing his hand as he got closer and closer to your center.

Namjoon pulled back then, a smug smile on his face as he started moving down to kiss his way up your other leg, starting again at your ankle. You let out a whiney moan, pulling his hand and looking down at him, pleading.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” he said gently, moving back to where you wanted him most.

He kissed you right over your panties, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that made you cry out. You could feel him breathing hard through his nose, smelling and inhaling you as he moved his mouth against you, letting go of your hand so he could hold your thighs with both his large, perfect hands.

He licked and sucked the fabric of your panties, tasting where you were soaked for him. It was the most amazing thing you’d ever felt, and you spread your legs even further for him, your hands holding onto the sheets of the bed, your knuckles turning white.

You gasped when you felt teeth, and then Namjoon was slowly pulling your panties down your legs with his mouth, looking up at you with playful eyes and a smirk. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead just closed your legs enough for him to get your panties off of you, letting him have his fun. He let out a small growl at you, your panties still in his mouth, and you giggled, a soft noise that made his eyes light up.

Before you could think or do anything, Namjoon was back between your legs, spreading you open with his fingers and licking a slow, thick line up your folds to your clit.

You cried out, your head falling back and eyes squeezing closed. Namjoon repeated the motion, even slower this time, moaning a little too as he let the tip of his tongue enter you for just a moment. You whined, pulling his hair hard and trying to spread your legs even further, and Namjoon stopped, humming softly as he turned his head and kissed your thigh.

“I love you so fucking much,” Namjoon murmured against your skin, kissing you there again. “Your pussy’s so pretty, my love. So soft and wet for me.”

“Joonie,” you sighed, stroking his hair. You could feel his smile against your thigh, and it made you smile, too. You felt warm, like you were glowing from his love.

Namjoon turned his head back and dipped his tongue into you again, this time further, like he was trying to see how far he could go. His lips sucked at your entrance as his tongue flicked in and out, not fast enough to get you off, but not slow, either. He moved his tongue like he was trying to drink you, lapping you up, bringing your wetness into his mouth and down his throat.

You moaned loudly for him, pulling his face harder against you by his hair, and he reached up and grabbed one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours over one of your thighs.

He moved his mouth up to your clit, drawing random shapes over it with the tip of his tongue lazily while he curled two fingers into you. He moved clumsily, like he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing but just wanted to make you feel good, and what he was doing was definitely working. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in eagerness and love, and when he moaned around your clit, and you nearly screamed.

“Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck. God, your mouth is… mmm, god, you’re so fucking good, that feels so good, Joonie, Joonie–” You cut yourself off with a long, agonized cry as Namjoon sucked your clit into his mouth hard, swirling his tongue around it as he suctioned his mouth and moved his fingers inside you faster. You repeated a chorus of nothing but his name between breathy moans as you held onto his hair with your free hand, your other hand squeezing his.

You gasped when you came, your whole body tensing as you saw stars and every nerve in your body exploded in pleasure. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you failed to breathe, your lungs tightening and your orgasm only building and building as Namjoon kept moving his tongue and fingers. You felt like you were floating in space, millions of stars around you all bursting at once, the entire universe stopping for you and Namjoon and the love you felt for each other.

After a moment, you took in a shaky breath, trying to recover while your mind was still mush. Namjoon was still moving his mouth on you, now licking up your wetness at your entrance and moaning to himself at the taste. If he kept that up, you were going to come again, and soon.

You moaned, pulling on his hair enough for him to look up at you, not stopping what his mouth was doing. You pleaded with your eyes, whimpering and pulling his hair again, and he put his lips to your entrance one last time, this time spreading his lips as wide as possible and sucking as he slowly closed his mouth. You gasped and almost screamed at the sensation of him actually drinking you, desperate to taste you.

Your second orgasm was smaller, making you shudder and gasp for just a moment before steadily breathing deeply as you tried to recover again. You looked down at him, barely able to lift your head; Namjoon was kissing your thigh, your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as he slowly worked his way up your stomach. You could see how hard he was, his precum glistening on the head of his cock as it bounced against his stomach with his movements.

You started to reach down to grasp him, but he gently stopped you, bringing your hand back up by your head and lacing his fingers with yours. He kissed your collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kiss spots all over your body, your own wetness in the shape of his lips and chin.

“Please, Joonie,” you hummed, and he came back to you, kissing your lips slowly and letting you taste yourself on him. You wrapped your legs around him tightly as he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, gasping when he started slowly sliding into you, every amazing inch of him filling and stretching you.

Namjoon buried his face in your neck, the length of his nose pressed against the curve of your jaw. He turned his head enough to kiss your neck, feeling your rapid, heavy pulse with his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, not opening his eyes. “So fucking tight and wet for me, my angel, my princess, my heart, my love. I love you so fucking much.” He kissed your neck again gently before pushing all the way into you and bottoming out, the stretch so wonderfully tight and full. You cried out, spreading your legs further and higher for him, grabbing at his shoulders, scraping your fingernails down his back as he filled you up so completely.

Namjoon pulled out slowly and then pushed in again, rocking into you. You were desperate, nearly delirious and just about ready to cry if he didn’t start moving faster. He seemed to just barely be holding on by a thread, his own orgasm already one sudden movement away from overwhelming him.

“God, Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck,” you cried, close to actually in tears now. You started to say something else but it turned into a small whimper as he thrust into you again, hard.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, “I love you so much, Y/N…” Your name turned into a long moan as he began his slow, torturous pace, both of you so close to the edge already. You didn’t know how he was possibly going so slow still, other than the fact he must want to torture you.

“Go faster, please,” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders as tight as you could and digging in your fingernails. “I need you so bad, Joonie. God, fuck me, please…”

“I love you, angel,” he said, kissing your shoulder. He picked up the pace a little, but it wasn’t enough. “I love you, baby, I love you so much. I love you, I love you–”

“Go fucking faster, now, please…” you sobbed, pulling his hair, making him hiss in pain, but he listened, reaching down and holding your hip with one hand as he started pounding into you, the force of it making the bed creak and your breasts bounce with each quick, powerful thrust. You were long past gone, moaning loudly with each exhale, and Namjoon groaned and grunted, his head against your shoulder as the two of you moved together, you rolling your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.

Namjoon broke first. His orgasm hit him suddenly and he tried to keep moving, his thrusts sloppy, erratic, and uneven as he spilled into you, his mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut. He let out a long groan until he ran out of air, and then he didn’t inhale again until he finished, suddenly and harshly gasping in again, his whole body shaking in your arms.

He reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, and you only lasted a few seconds before you gasped too, clenching around his still half-hard erection inside you, which only made him groan in overstimulation as you squeezed and spasmed around him, gasping nothing but his name and feeling nothing but him, your love, your Namjoon.

Namjoon somehow managed to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. He moved to the side enough to fall beside you, one of his legs still between your thighs as he laid on his stomach, slightly turned in toward you. His hand moved up to cup and stroke your cheek as he lazily kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too, Joonie,” you said between shaky breaths, your vision almost blurry from lust and exhaustion and a dumb happy smile on your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You laid there for a little while together before you eventually went another round, this time as slow as Namjoon had wanted to go the first time.

When you came this time, your orgasm had to have lasted at least five full minutes (or at least, it felt like that) as Namjoon kept moving in and out of you, keeping up his steady, slow, overwhelming movements that left you delirious with his cock inside you, his thumb on your clit, and his lips on yours, breathing in every moan of his name.

After you both laid there a while again, lazy in post coital haze, you eventually got up and went to your room’s personal little bathroom, where you turned on the tiny shower and let it warm up. You stood there feeling the water’s temperature with your hand while Namjoon stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and lips on your neck. It was like he couldn’t go more than a few minutes without saying “I love you,” not that you were complaining.

You showered together, Namjoon standing behind you the whole time and washing your body for you. He massaged your breasts, hands sudsy as the warm water fell down over them as he kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. One of his hands fell down to your folds, stroking you slowly as his other hand moved to your breast, arm wrapping around you so that his forearm could also press against your nipple, stimulating and touching both of your breasts at once.

Namjoon slid two fingers into you as he kissed your temple. You could feel him hard against your ass, and that feeling made your eyes flutter.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you, pleasing you, making love to you,” he murmured into your hair. You responded with an agonized moan, reaching back and holding onto his shoulder for support. “I’ve wanted you like this since we first met. I dreamed about eating your perfect little pussy so many times, doing exactly this to you, feeling you squeeze my cock like you did earlier when you came so prettily. You’re better than anything I ever could’ve imagined though, baby. Your pussy tastes like heaven and feels even better. You’re so fucking perfect, princess, I love you so much, more than my heart can bare.”

You felt like he had to be bending you over slightly, his firm chest against your back. You swore you could actually feel his cock throbbing.

“I need you,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you felt nothing but his hands.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I’m here, angel. I love you.”

“Need you inside me,” you said, spreading your legs to stand with your feet braced wider apart. “I love you, too, Joonie. Please…”

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. Hooking his arm around your waist for support, he bent you both over a little more, sliding into you from behind in one smooth motion. You cried out in ecstasy, he felt so good and big and yours.

It was fast and sloppy; he hugged you against him with both arms while you braced yourself on the tile wall in front of you. The sound of skin smacking against wet skin, his hips hitting your ass coupled with both your quiet moans and the wet squelching of him moving hard and fast inside you, echoing off the tile walls with the sound of the running water. He filled you so perfectly, stretched you out so far, you felt like he was fucking up into your guts, so hard and deep and good.

You came at the same time, Namjoon groaning and squeezing you harder as your eyes rolled back in your head.

When you’d both recovered some, you stood there under the water, still in the same position. You both knew base rules about wasting water, so you needed to wrap this up, but neither of you wanted to move.

You eventually got out and dried off, both of you getting ready for bed with the toiletries provided by the base. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you the whole time though, so the whole process probably took three times longer than it should’ve.

When you both finished, he pulled you to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you, his hands spreading out on your bare back. Namjoon’s tongue slowly swirled with yours as he let out a small, contented hum, and he wrapped your legs up around his body, supporting you with one hand on your back and the other on your thigh.

Namjoon walked to your bed, carrying you, and laid down with you on top of him. You didn’t end up going another round, but you kissed for a while until eventually you started to move off of him to sleep beside him. Namjoon, though, held you there on top of him, keeping you there.

He murmured a soft little “please,” stroking your back gently, begging you to stay where you were on top of him. You laid back down and kissed right over his heart, before turning your head and resting your cheek on his chest, nuzzling in against him to sleep as he pulled the sheets up around you both.

You were safe in his arms. The world around you didn’t matter; not the people down the hall, not anything outside the base, none of it. The whole universe was just you and Namjoon in this bed, and nothing else existed. He was yours, and you were his.

#ksmutclub #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #namjoon smut #bts smut #rm smut #kim namjoon #namjoon #my writing #namjoon fic #*

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

Running In Circles - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,196

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, George Foyet, Multiple Unsubs and Victims

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' story line.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) remebers her first day in the job and recounts all the cases and events that led to the downfall of George Foyet.

A/N: I decided to say fuck the anxiety of posting and put up my Aaron fanfiction. It’s been gathering dust in my documents folder and I love writing too much to keep it to myself. I’m not sure how many chapters this will have but there’s already 8 chapters all finished up. Soon I’ll be posting ff of all the fanfictions I enjoy also! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

“Good morning, BAU!” I said as I walked through the doors of the elevator and entered the bullpen. I could still remember how it felt the first time I got here.

I walked out of the elevator and made my way to the first office on the left. I was to meet

SSA Aaron Hotchner for an interview to join the BAU. My hands were shaking, and my body was getting warmer by the second. But I remembered my father’s encouraging words. “You’re gonna do great, mia bella.”

Not only was I extremely young, but I also had a lot to live up to. Being the daughter of SSA David Stephen Rossi was no easy task. He was an amazing agent, mentor, and father. He always pushed me to be the best at everything I did. When I started high school, I decided to get a head start on my college studies and applied to dual enrollment. When I graduated I did so with a Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Then, I worked my way to a Master’s in Psychology and Social Work, and a Doctorate in Criminal Justice. At the same time, my father trained me as a profiler. All my life I knew I wanted to be in the FBI, just like him. I was always impressed at all he did and wanted to be just like my hero. The day I told him I had been recruited by the FBI and was set to work in the BAU he said it had been the greatest day of his life.

Now my shaking hand raised to softly knock on the door before me.

“Come in,” someone said from inside. The door softly creaked as I opened and was met by a tall man with dark hair and a shorter blonde woman. “Agent Rossi, welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here.” I smiled and shook Aaron Hotchner’s and Erin Strauss’ hands.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Rossi,” Erin smiled. “Have to say, you have a very impressive curriculum and your disinvolvement in our past interviews and tests have been outstanding.”

I smiled and turned the bracelet on my wrist for comfort.

“I must concur with Chief Strauss,” said Hotch. “I believe you will be a great addition to the BAU team.”

After sharing a few pleasantries and being handed my badge and gun, I was following Hotch to the briefing room to meet the rest of the team. Formally, at least. I had heard everything about them when I spoke with my father. He left no detail out.

“Morning, everyone,” Hotchner started. “I called you all in early today so you could meet the newest addition to the team. This is Agent (y/n) Rossi.”

To the sound of my name most of the mouths in the room dropped.

“Rossi, as in David Rossi?” The slender, messy haired agent said. I could only assume that was Spencer Reid. As my father had described him, a curly mess dressed in vests.

I nodded.

“Rossi, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful daughter.” That would be Derek Morgan. The hottie Casanova with a silver tongue.

“I hadn’t?” My father questioned and smirked, knowing full well the answer.

“Well, he’s talked a lot about all of you,” I smiled.

“All good things I hope,” Emily smiled.

“Great things,” I returned the smile. “I could probably make out who is who by the things he’s told me.”

“Go ahead,” Aaron challenged.

“Alright,” I cleared my throat and started going around the table. “Curly hair, vests, analyzing everything I’ve done and said since I walked in… you’re Spencer Reid.”

He smiled brightly.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and a silver tongue. Plus, you checked me out as soon as the doors of the elevator opened… Derek Morgan.”

He smirked.

“Calm, cool, and collected. Quiet but present, inspecting my presence here… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

“She’s good,” Emily muttered to Morgan beside her. I continued.

“And last but not least, bright colors, fun accessories,” I said looking at Garcia. “Even though you’re smiling, you’re not sure about me yet because you don’t like change and are probably going to dig up everything you can on me as soon as you can… Penelope Garcia.”

She stiffened and Derek chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I do not like change that much either. And here,” I reached my hand into my bag to pull out a rather thick folder. “I’ll save you the work. Background check, complete internet history, social medias, and all the whatnots you would need to build a very extensive profile.”

“Oh, thank you,” she reached out her hand and grabbed the folder, smiling at the floor.

“And well, I already know Agent Hotchner and my father, so they don’t need much of an introduction.”

“No, but you do,” my father said joining my side. “Tell them a bit about yourself.”

“Well, I have a bachelor, two masters, and a doctorate degree: I’m 23, I’m Rossi’s daughter…” In the middle of my thought process dad cut in.

“She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, and she’s the one I call when I’m stuck on a case.” I smiled.

“She also passed every test with flying colors,” Aaron added. “And her profiling skills are exceptional.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “I think it runs in my blood.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Aaron continued. “Let’s get to work.”

That was almost three years ago. A couple of days after, I met JJ who had visited with her newborn son Henry.

In very little time I had grown attached to this family. I was most of the time partnered with Spence and we developed an amazing bond. It did help that I loved playing chess and we could have highly erudite talks. Also, I very much enjoyed his over sharing of facts. But really, I was close to them all. On my spare time I was found watching movies with Derek and Penny, perusing book shops with Reid, having girl nights with JJ, Penny, and Emily, or sipping on top grade scotch while finishing paperwork with Hotch.

Spending time with Hotch was my favorite pastime of all.

I realized I had developed feelings for him the day he was captured by Foyet and left at the hospital. Receiving the call from Emily that she had found blood at his apartment literally knocked the air out of my lungs. Reid could tell that my reaction would not have been the same where it had been any of the other members. For some time, he had deduced my attraction to our unit chief. Once we had captured Patrick Meyers and Reid had been sent off to a hospital, we sped off to St. Sebastian Hospital. I could feel my heartbeat going faster and faster as I felt time slipping by. More than once I had asked Morgan to go faster and with sorry eyes, he told me he was going as fast as he could.

Seeing Hotch on a hospital bed, greatly hurt, broke me. I knew everyone on the team, just like Reid, had figured it out. I was the first one in when the doctor announced he was waking up. His eyes fluttered open as JJ, the last one to enter, made it in.

“Where am I?” He groggily asked.

“In the hospital,” dad answered.

My eyes could not leave his face, even as all I wanted was to imagine him in a different state. Derek told him how he made it to the hospital and Emily asked Hotch what had happened. Closing his eyes, Hotch explained step by step how everything had gone down. Upon more investigation, we quickly figured what Foyet had taken and, a page from his planner that held his ex-wife’s and son’s current address and a picture of them, respectively.

Once we had that information, the team knew exactly what to do. Emily and I volunteered to stay behind and update the team if anything changed. As soon as he went to sleep, we let out a locked breath. But the relief was short lived as his pulse started to get exceedingly fast.

“What happened?” The doctor asked.

“I don’t know,” I croakily muttered out. Emily put a hand on my back as I softly touched his arm.

“Agent Hotchner. Can you hear me?” The doctor called out. “Agent Hotchner?”

He finally opened his eyes and responded. “I’m okay.”

The doctor asked us out of the room as she checked on him and Emily helped stabilize my walk as we made it out. I saw the doctor and a nurse check him as I picked the skin of the thumb of my right hand. Emily noticed and grabbed it, knowing well of my nervous ticks. The other being closing my fist hard enough to dig my nails in it.

“He’ll be okay,” she smiled. “You know he’s a fighter.”

I softly smiled at her, not knowing if she said it for me or for her to believe it too.

Once we knew Haley and Jack were safe the three of us let out a relieved sigh. Hotch squeezed the hand I had been holding as he slept, needing the reassurance of a trusted presence next to him. He asked Emily about the scene at his apartment, but she could not give him definite answers. In a moment of silence, she excused herself to go buy coffee and I took this chance to ask him what had been going through my head.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” I asked worry evident in my eyes.

Sighing, he responded. “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time, it all goes blank.”

He looked straight into my eyes and I could tell he knew more than he let on, but now was not the time to push him. He had been drained: physically, emotionally, and mentally. In that moment, Haley walked in and I let go of his hand to leave them to talk. From outside of the room, I could hear the heartbreaking moment and knowing he was in pain shattered my heart. That day had absolutely devastated us as a team, but it only made us more determined to find Foyet and end him.

But life and work went on. The whole month he was off, I spent most of my free time helping in his recovery and his healing, using the little training I had in wound treatment. The other part of my time I spent with Reid, who was also in recovery. A far less pressing injury, but an injury, nonetheless. And he was my best friend, so I could not completely abandon him.

We were all worried about him coming back to the team with Foyet still out there, but dad reassured us he would only be more motivated. Yet the first case back, he was different. He was usually professional and understanding, now it seemed that no matter how well we worked, we would make a mistake. And when we finally tracked down the unsub and he made his way inside the house, no vest, and no gun, I knew there was something different in him. I tried to follow him inside, but dad stopped me.

“We have to trust him,” he told me. Even with those words we were all unsure of the outcome. My head was working 1,000 miles a minute coming up with different ways this could all end up in, and when I heard the gunshots, my mind only went to the darkest end. Quickly we stormed in the house and saw Hotch putting handcuffs on Darrin, and a very dead Jarvis on a recliner.

My father spent most of his time with me reassuring me that Hotch was still the same man he had been a month before. And I spent most of my time with Hotch reassuring him that he was not alone.

At the end of most cases Emily, dad, and I sat with Hotch in his office to drink a cup of scotch and unwind after a stressful day. I stayed nights overtime often and was there on the night that Strauss had landed a surprise visit to his office. The next day he became hyper focused on Derek’s work, which later he revealed to me the reason why. The bureau was questioning his leadership and he meant to step down as unit chief at the end of that week. This ended with Derek becoming active unit chief whilst Hotch was being investigated.

The days that followed were quite strange. We were used to taking orders from Hotch and now taking orders from Morgan was completely different. But business went on as usual. We worked on cases just as hard and solved them just as efficiently. With one case always hanging on us like a dark cloud. George Foyet. With every case we finished we knew he was still out there, which meant that Hotch was still hurting and hunting.

But the dreaded day had caught up to us. With the last case we had been on in Hampton we knew Foyet had found Hotch. He was taunting Hotch, dangling his life in front of him. Once he had sent us that calling card, we pressed harder on our investigation, pulling at whatever string we could find.

Thankfully, JJ pulled our medication string harder when she found out about the ability to substitute prescriptions with over-the-counter meds. We worked tirelessly and strongly to shorten the investigation part of this case. We needed to catch him, fast.

“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things that have meaning to him,” I said looking at the map presented in front of us. I could see that Reid knew where I was going.

“The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led back to him,” Spence added, and I nodded.

“Maybe he’s doing the same with his name,” I said as Reid wrote down George Foyet on the board.

“Like an anagram or something,” Emily chimed. Quickly, Reid got to work on the theory crossing out and circling letters. Adding ‘The Reaper’ onto the board and utilizing it, once Hotch had pointed out Foyet gave himself that name. He kept up this process until the name Peter Rhea came to existence.

Garcia tracked down the name and quickly found an address in Arlington. We had found him, but it was just too easy.

We were waiting outside of the apartment building for too long, waiting for something, anything. Once Morgan had given his orders, the plan was set in motion. Still, something in the back of my mind kept telling me it was too easy. We stormed the empty apartment and searched for anything that would help us find his actual location. His computer was quickly deleting files, but Garcia was better. Haley’s protection unit was in trouble.

As soon as it clicked, we were on our way to the stash house. Inside the house Marshal Sam Kassmeyer was hurt, losing blood quickly. With the little he was able to tell us we knew that Haley and Jack were in danger. Sam had not told Foyet anything, but George was smart, unfortunately. He had disguised himself as a Marshal and lied to Haley to get her where he needed her. Only him had communication with her. Everyone was on edge wanting nothing more than to find this man.

In the office we heard Hotch’s conversation with Foyet. He was working hard to buy some time for us to find him but knowing George he already had a plan set in motion. He had eyes on the pair, he was with them. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through.

“Alright, Foyet has to be in control,” Derek said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He had Haley come to him.”

“Yeah, but where would he take her?” Spencer asked. We all started thinking and speculating. There was something in the call that told Hotch where to go. That was the key.

“Reid, what did he say, exactly?” I emphasized on the last word.

“Haley’s hair looks good dark. She’s lost some weight. It must be because of all the stress you caused her. Where’s the little man? Oh, there he is now. Do you think he likes Captain America because of you? That’s your wife on the other line. Hold, please. Hi. Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” Spencer recited in a monotone voice.

“Open the gate?” My father questioned.

“It would be someplace with the biggest emotional impact for Hotch,” I said looking down to organize my thoughts.

“And Haley has access to the gate,” Derek added, and it clicked.

“Their house,” I said. “Where they lived together.”

“Of course,” Emily said. “Foyet planned this all the way to the end. It’s everything to him.”

“He wants to take over Hotch’s house, to be in control, to prove his dominance,” I finished. We knew where he was going, and I was sure Hotch knew too and was already on his way.

On the way, Hotch got a call from Foyet’s phone. It was Hayley. I heard the emotion grabbing him by the throat. We could hear the whole conversation and my heart broke when he asked Hayley the magic words.

“Tell Jack that I need him working on the case,” Hotch breathed out. One drunken night he had told me about how he had found Jack inside a storage bench in his office after he had knocked on it. The smiling kid had told his father that he was working the case with Hotch. Hotch knew what was going to happen and so did I. This was the best chance Jack had at survival.

When Hotch told Jack to hug his mom and he said I love you, I let out a loud sob and Emily grabbed my hand tightly for support. But I was not the one that need the care. Hotch did. Haley’s words would forever be engraved in my head, and in the heads of our friends.

Three gunshots rang through the line right before it cut. Then I could not hold back the tears. I knew. I just knew.

Hotch was the first one on the scene and all I thought of was that he did not have a vest or any backup, so god knows what could have happened. For the second time in a matter of months all I could ask for was that Morgan drove faster.

At the house, Morgan was the first one in and the scene that unfolded in front of us was heartbreaking. Hotch was hitting Foyet over and over, and Derek had to hold him back. He was dead. I surveyed the scene and instinctively went to Hotch’s office, Hotch following close behind. Jack had to be there. I let Hotch walk past me and watched as relief overtook him when he lifted the lid.

“I work the case, daddy,” Jack said. Unbeknownst to everything that had happened. “Just like you said.”

“You did a great job buddy,” Hotch lifted his son out of the bench.

“What happened to you, daddy?”

“I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau. Ok?” The child walked to JJ and she took him out in her arms.

And Hotch let go. He silently cried and I helped him make his way to where Haley laid. I stood by the door and turned away a police officer. Morgan stood up and squeezed my shoulder as he left the room behind the officer. I stayed outside of the doorframe, listening to the sobs of a strong man.

Next->

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shurisneakers · 4 years

Text

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground.

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up. “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

213 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can you write promp 15 to Shuu tsukiyama :) Thank you I love your writings.

I love my writing as well😉. No, but seriously guys. If it wouldn't be for my passion to write, I would have gone on a hiatus the moment I found out that I was being shadowbanned.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, manipulation, paranoia, mentioning of kidnapping, catcalling, sexual harassment, blood, killing, Shuu being a sadist to the victim, eccentricity (?)

Prompt 15: “Shh princess… don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

"Kanae!! What happened to her?!?! Why is she crying?!?!"

You hadn't wanted to burst out in tears like this, but replaying the scene in your head over and over again like a movie had caused you unimaginable frustration and embarrassment. Now you remembered why you hated people so much, they were all just greedy and disgusting jerks. Calling you such nasty names in public and daring to go as far as following you. If Kanae wouldn't have been there with you, you didn't even want to imagine what might have happened to you.

"My poor princess! What happened?! Tell me!"

Furious tears were falling down your face, even though you had wiped them away already countless times before. You were not in a very good mood at the moment, you felt quite etchy at the moment. And that was what caused annoyance washing over you when you heard Shuu's cooing words, taking quick steps towards you to comfort you somehow. You knew what would come now. Another smothering session of his. Something you didn't need in the least bit right now. What you needed was time. Alone.

You still tried to stay as calm as possible, not wanting to make a huge scene that would only gain you more annoying attention. All the servants were honestly so much like their master, they all appeared to be overly dramatic when it came to you, the only real exception was Mirumo.

So when you suddenly stepped back from Shuu, lips pressed together and a mixed look out of sadness and anger on your face, you knew that you had hurt him. It was all too obvious judging from his wide eyes, confusion and pain already reflecting in them, and the way he had frozen when you had suddenly put a distance between you two. The hand, which he had extended, was staying in the air, shaking slightly. As always, he was overreacting.

“(y/-y/n)…What did I-“

“You did nothing Shuu. You didn’t do anything. I just wish to be alone right now. So I ask you to do me the favor and leave me alone for once. If you don’t, I might say things to you that will hurt you and which I don’t mean. Don’t test my patience for now.”

You were surprised by your own tone of voice, you sounded extremely rude, annoyance dripping from your voice like venom. It was hard to keep a calm and collected voice under such conditions. But for the reason of you having been well raised and well treated by the people in this place, you wanted to return the favor by doing the same.

You just stormed past both, Kanae and Shuu, without saying a single word, chewing furiously on your lips whilst the voice of the man kept ringing in your head. You felt like you wanted to smash something to relieve yourself of the ocean of emotions inside of you. Today had been the wrong day to convince Shuu with the help of his father to let you out without him.

“Master (y/n)!”, you heard Kanae yelling after you, followed by a thud sound that caused you to turn around shortly, feeling slightly startled by the sudden noise. But you were left feeling a bit surprised when seeing that your company for the last few hours had gone done to her knees, forehead pressed against the floor of the mansion and bowing deeply down in front of you.

“I can never forgive myself for not being able to help you. I failed you! I’m so sorry! It’s all because of my own foolishness and incompetence that you had to go through all of this!”

Her voice was shaking and you guessed that she would break out in tears at any moment, she was just as theatrical as your partner was.

“Kanae, it’s not your fault. We were under too many people, you couldn’t have done more than you did already. And that was already a big help. Also, please don’t refer to me as your master, I don’t like it when I’m being called this way. I see you as a friend, so that makes things always a bit awkward when you call me your master.”

Only the fading and fast footsteps of yours were heard in the silence which followed afterwards, leaving two people left dwelling on what had just happened. Shuu, who was staring with still shocked eyes at the stairs where you had just walked up, and Kanae, who was still remaining in her humble position. Somewhere upstairs the rather loud slam of a door was heard, indicating that you had just entered your room.

“Kanae…What…happened?”

Even her master seemed to be left flabbergasted by this sudden change of events, although tears were already starting to fill his eyes. It was not as much because of your rejecting behavior towards him, although that had hurt as well. No, it was because someone had upset his little dove so that she had cried and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

“So eine Scheiße!”, the girl suddenly shouted furiously and frustrated, slamming her head against the floor harshly as if wanting to punish herself.

By now she had bursted out in tears, drops splashing to the ground. “What am I good for when I couldn’t even keep her safe and this-this disgrace away from her?! Now she is angry! Please forgive me Master Shuu. You chose me because you trusted me to protect her, but I was the wrong person to choose.”

The last few sentences of her were told much more softer than the previous ones, only proving to Shuu that Kanae felt beyond miserable for what had happened. But it didn’t answe his question! It only made him more anxious.

What had happened whilst he hadn’t been there?! Who the duck dared to make his lovely darling cry?! Who?!

“Would you just please tell me what happened?!”, he yelled at the servant, his string of patience snapping right then and there and leading him into raising his voice.

Kanae flinched when hearing him shouting at her, the panic in his voice overwhelming her even more. It was all because of her that her master would have to go through the same pain as you as well. How should she even start explaining what had happened without him losing it right away?

“Mast-I mean (y/n)…She has been catcalled! And I was unable to take proper care of this threat! Watching this bastard…It was disgusting! Enraging! This rotten mouth of his…The things he called after her, I wish I could have gouged his tongue out! And he even had the audacity to follow her through the city, using every opportunity he had to spit more gross words out! And (y/n) had to endure all of this without losing her self-restraint. She even had to stop me. She stood her ground without breaking down in front of him. She was so admirable. I should have taken an example on her.”

The confession of the truth hurt, having to go through it all again hurt. Her master’s darling had been so brave, so perfectly in control of her emotions, so empathetic to rather let herself get humiliated instead of risking to let Kanae get triggered and reveal that she was a ghoul in the center of the city. And (y/n) still saw her as a friend! She was so kind. No wonder Master Shuu was so madly in love with her.

After that the ghoul waited for some reaction from him, shouting, yelling, crying, lashing out on her, anything. But nothing came. Instead another silence befell both of them, coming with a creepy feeling. An almost paralyzing feeling that made the violet-haired girl stay on the ground. The air felt like it was weighting her down. She knew this feeling.

Fear.

"So you're telling me that ma chérie is crying because some walking useless trash thought that he could use her and play her for his own entertainment?"

His voice was beyond spine-chilling, spoken like a true lunatic. His voice sounded for the most part quieter than expected, though it was trembling slightly. But what made her body nearly forget to function out of terror was the icy blood lust in it, like he was on the brink of insanity.

Barely, only barely did Kanae manage to lift her head, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. It only made her break out in cold sweat more. She thanked the heaven that he wasn't looking at her right now, instead staring in the empty space, a murderous grin on his face. His eyes were wide, reflecting the craziness inside of him perfectly. Just by looking at him was enough for Kanae to know that he was tearing the culprit in his mind currently to a bloody and deforedly mess. Her master was thinking like her, she had planned on doing the same. But she hadn't looked that unnerving.

"As much as I would love to torture and rip this waste of oxygen right now, this will have to wait. My princess needs me right now."

The sudden change in his whole personality was delightening yet also the slightest bit stunning for Kanae to witness, how he went from psychopathic sadist to his normal dramatic and lovesick self.

"W-wait! C-can I do something, anything to make somehow up for my failure?", Kanae stuttered out, stopping Shuu from crossing the stairs with huge steps. She had to do something, she felt truly feeble.

Shuu noticed her still majorly guilty expression, giving her a small sympathetic smile. "Don't work yourself up to hard over it now. (y/n) was only right. You would have only done much worse if you would have let lost control then and there. You already did a better job than I did in keeping composure. For now just tell the others to prepare dinner, (y/n)'s favorite. And also..."

The sudden drop in Shuu's voice and his face was a dead giveaway what he wanted to say next. "Let's meet later outside when my darling is sleeping. I believe we have something to take care of, don't we?"

That alone was enough to make Kanae stand up, the anger and feeling of helplessness scratching her feeling of self-esteem. Her master knew that she had a score to settle as well after having only been able to watch. She felt grateful that he took that into reconsideration even though she had let this happen in the first place.

"It would be my pleasure to be from any help. I feel honored that you still chose me."

"Why are you here? I think I told you I want to be alone.", you shot out after Shuu had simply knocked and entered your room without permission, giving you nearly no time to wipe away all the tears on your cheeks. You hated crying in front of people, you hated looking weak and vulnerable and being it as well. That's why you always wanted to be alone when you felt like crying.

"You expect me to just stand away when my dove clearly needs someone right now?! You were just sexually harassed and want me to leave you alone?! Forget it!"

His reaction was what you had seen coming, the paranoia coloring his face being all too obvious and he looked distressed as well. Shuu wasn't good in handling something like this at all, not when it had you being in any sort hurt involved.

"Go away. I look terrible right now.", you just said without replying to what he had just said, though this had been a rhetorical question. You didn't look very good right now, tears smearing all over your face, your eyes reddened and puffy and your nose running due to all the crying.

"That doesn't matter to me. For me you look beatiful no matter what, even if you cry."

Despite feeling upset, you managed to let a chuckling scoff out when you heard the man saying this, still not being completely used to his more cheesy lines. But right now he probablly had the intention to cheer you up.

"Good grief, you're really too much. Let go of me.", you replied slightly ironically in between your sobs when he suddenly just clinged to you, wrapping you up in his arms. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, his hug was warm and managed to soothe you a bit.

You actually shouldn’t feel this way, not in the arms of the man who used to torment and hurt you out of pure and utter sadistic fun. Back then it had just been horror for you. And only thanks to his well-mannered father things had changed for you, only then. You owed Mirumo for that more than you could effort, but his only request had been staying, knowing the attachment his son had for you would never perish. But at the same time you had the feeling his father had helped his son as well, causing you to get along with him better and better until you had started to forget where acting stopped and where real feelings were showing.

“Shh princess…don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

He had a point. That asshole had wanted to get under your skin which was the second reason you had stayed strong in front of him. But you were human as well, you had feelings which could be hurt. You were currently hurt which was why you needed some sort of comfort right now and Shuu provided it. Maybe a bit too much.

You estimated that you needed about five minutes until you had calmed somewhat down, though the after effects from your crying session still shook your body every once in a while. But you felt the tiniest bit less shitty.

“I think I’m feeling better now. Thank you…Shuu.”, you told him softly, feeling your cheeks warming up the tiniest bit.

He just let out a content ‘hmm’, his chin resting on your shoulder and his one hand playing with your hair a bit. He didn’t look like he had any intentions to move despite you giving him the look. You had a rather silly bad feeling.

“Do you want to let me go?”

“Never. At least not until the dinner is prepared.”

“Shuu.”, you protested slightly, pushing him a bit against the chest which turned out to be good for nothing. He didn’t budge. Instead you could almost see with your inner two eyes on the back of your head that he was grinning upon your attempt to remove him.

“Oh well. I’ll let him have it his way. He deserves it.”

Kanae was walking, as quietly as possible, nervously back and forth. She would never blame her master for anything at all, but maybe she just felt extremely uneasy right now that she wanted to leave desperately. Tokyo was huge and finding one single man would be hard, though she remembered the few broken pieces of informations she had heard when the man had been taken away from some other people who seemed to know him.

“I have to avenge (y/n) or else I’ll never be able to feel like I deserve this happiness.”, the girl thought bitterly, intending to bring suffering over this piece of garbage.

“You seem rather impatient. Believe me, I am just as eager as you are, though we shouldn’t waste too much time with this sad excuse of a man.”

Kanae quickly turned around, anticipation shining from her eyes when she saw Shuu appearing from the shadows, already having put on fitting clothes and holding his mask in his hand.

“I apologize, I simply couldn’t bring myself to leaving my princess alone. She looked too gorgeous to not marvel over. That’s why I want to speed this all up, I want to return to her as fast as possible. It of course doesn’t mean I intend to let this person easily of the hook.”

He chuckled a bit, for a few moments softness dominating his face when recalling the sweet memories of his darling sleeping peacefully. But in the blink of an eye he changed, the lust to kill someone taking over him and twisting his face into something entirely else.

“Kanae, do you know where we should start?”

His voice was terrifying, his feelings and intentions dripping freely from it and a malicious glint shining in his eyes. Not like Kanae minded, her own face being overshadowed by her negative feelings.

“Yes, I do have an idea.”

#yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere shuu #yandere shuu tsukiyama

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ohplagg · 3 years

Text

Normal Girl

Also read at AO3

Summary: Nora is living her best life by being the normal middle school student that she always longed to be with her new friends and her two parents that love her so much.

WARNING: This story makes mention of abuse, suicide and suicidal thoughts. Individuals suffering from anxiety, depression and/or suicidal thoughts may not have a safe experience reading this. Viewer discretion is advised.

Thank you @noragamibigbang for organizing this.

See my partner’s ( @maybemacdc ) wonderful artwork that goes along with this!

Get up.

I hear the faint sound of an alarm clock, its signals the start of my day. I know I need to get up but the warmth of my bed and the peace in my bedroom cuddles me in a soundless lullaby.

Get up now.

The cold morning air hits my skin as I reach my arm out of my covers to turn off the alarm making me a bit more aware of myself than before but not enough. I decide to curl up in my bed once more, savoring the cozy air that my blankets trapped during the night.

You’re going to be late.

As I finish rubbing off the sleep from my eyes and brushing off the black hair strand stuck in my mouth I peak my head out of the covers. While staring into the celling, waiting for the moment I have enough courage to leave my warm bed, I hear two calm knocks on my doorframe like there were right on cue.

“Good morning love, come help me with breakfast when you’re ready~” I hear my mom call out as she walks away from the doorframe.

I sit up on my bed and I admire the sunrays peak through my window. Little particles of dust dancing in the stationary air as they bathe in the sunlight.

I walk over to my closet and change into my freshly clean school uniform. It’s your typical sailor middle school uniform with the red bow tie, white shirt with a blue collar and a matching blue skit to go with it. I make sure I wash it every night so it dries overnight. I briefly enjoy the softness of the fabric as I straighten the skirt with my hands, getting rid of any wrinkles that were created when I put it on.

Now that I’m dressed, I head over to the mirror. I stare back at my reflection, my messy from sleep black hair begging to be brushed.

My hair has always been pretty boring. It has no color and no texture, not to mention that its so short that I can’t do any fun hair styles with it. Not that I have tried any. Maybe I can try something today?

As I think that, I open a box of ribbons I’ve been collecting for years but never worn. I first try on a big red bow, I then try a blue one, and then a bright pink ribbon but they all make me look stupid. This is stupid.

You’re stupid.

I finish trying on my last ribbon which is a white thin ribbon. This one I put it across my head like a hair band. It looks okay I guess but what would people say? I bet they wouldn’t stop pointing it out and making fun of me.

“That looks cute! Are you wearing that?” I get startled by my dad’s voice. I turn around to see him frozen in his tracks as he was walking pass my bedroom door.

“I’m not sure…?” I tried to say no but something about his loving and warming smile told me that I wanted to hear his reply to my hesitation.

“You should” he simply said and then left.

Dad would never lie to me and if he thinks that I look cute with it then I guess the ribbon isn’t that stupid.

Maybe I should wear it.

I think I will.

After deciding to leave the ribbon on and finish getting reading for school, I head downstairs and help my mom by setting the table while she prepares breakfast. I see my dad sitting on the TV-couch with his laptop and a bunch of work documents scattered all over the coffee table. We all are busy with our morning tasks while the morning local news is playing on the background.

First it was politics news but I’m too young to care and stress about that yet so I don’t really pay attention to it. Then it’s the bad story news which this time was something about how the police just arrested an abusive father who hurt his kids physically and mentally.

What a way to start the morning. Did the news anchors really need to say such graphic and gruesome details?

As always a feel-good story gets told right after, this time is about some rescued stray-kitty-siblings that were adopted by this high school girl or something, I honestly didn’t pay enough attention to it, I couldn’t stop thinking about the prior story.

I try to picture it but I can’t imagine my dad turning violent on me and doing me harm, how could any dad do that to his kids? The idea of not only not having my mom but also getting physically harmed by my dad made me feel nauseous.

“Darling. Stop playing with your food, you’re going to be late.” My mom snaps me out of my dark train of thought.

That’s right, my parents are both here and they will never hurt me no matter what. They love me and will protect me. I don’t have to worry about any of that. But I actually do worry because I’m about to be late if I don’t hurry up and eat. And with that I devour my food as fast as I can without getting a stomach ache.

“Ittekimasu!” I yell at my mom as I close the front door feeling the cool but not cold spring air hit my skin.

“Itterasshai!” I hear my mom faintly yell back to me.

I head down the streets on my way to school. As I walk I take in my surroundings; I hear some birds singing, some cars driving by, some other kids heading to school and some old lady gossip. I pay extra close attention to the gossip. Ever since I started walking to school on my own I realized that I didn’t know much about the world outside of my notebooks so this is the only way I keep up with the world beside the morning news my dad puts every other day.

Today’s gossip isn’t the usual though. The ladies are also talking about that horrible gruesome story the local morning news covered, I hear them talk among themselves how they actually knew the wife before she committed suicide.

“I don’t think she did” one of them comments while looking over her shoulder as if she was about to say her most guarded secret, “and with the most recent news I’m pretty sure he killed her.” She finishes while nodding her head as a matter of fact.

Gasps roar among the ladies and I find myself gawking at the possibility as well.

“He wouldn’t do that” one interrupts the buzzing gossiping that had been unleashed. “The husband was really in love. She was his whole world. I wouldn’t be surprise if he went crazy with grief because of her death.” She tries to defend the man from the accusation of killing his own wife.

The ladies continue their gossiping but by now I’m too far to hear it anymore. My thoughts remain stuck in that conversation while I make my way to school. A husband so overwhelmed with grief that he took it out on his own flesh and blood that he raised since they were babies.

Imagine being the kids, they were around my age if I recall correctly. Just thinking about how I could be living that nightmare makes me feel sick to my stomach. Not only were they dealing with the loss of their mother, but also the loss of their father. The pain and the fear they must have felt while seeing their dad turn into that monster as the days went by. The uncertainty of being chosen as the punching bag that day. The hopelessness and loneliness they must have felt.

Thinking about it almost feels too real. I feel my palms become sweaty and my heartbeat drowning any noise from the outside world. I urge myself to take in deep breaths and to remember that that is not my life. That my dad is not like that.

Thank the gods that my dad is not like that.

I arrive to school and I see Nana and her group waving at me, waiting for me at the front gate. They tell me to call them my friends but I’m not used to having those yet. You see, I’ve always focused on school and academics first and I never gave the idea of having friends even a consideration so this is all really new to me.

Nana is my favorite of the 3, she’s the one I can easily talk to. Turns out she and I are pretty similar in the sense that we both like to be right and get in fights because of it. Of course, she gets into physical ones while I only do intellectual ones…. for the most part. Look, it wasn’t my fault that one time with Yukine.

Sure, I did throw in the first punch but he started it when he said I copied from him. Well, he really didn’t said it, but he insinuated it and if you ask me that’s more than enough reason to get punched. Besides I would never copy him. I don’t need his second-best-in-school answers because I have my own first-best-in-school answers, so ha!

According to him he caught me “starring” at him “several” times which is not true. Why would I stare? Maybe he was in my field of vision but that doesn’t even make sense because just the sight of him is annoying, it always has been. Ever since we were 6 with his “I’m going to one-up you” attitude he always had with me. Ugh, so annoying!

And there’s nothing about him worth looking at either. There’s nothing eye-catching about physique like his unusual golden locks. And why on earth would I stare at someone who is so focused in whatever test question he’s answering that you can’t help but admire his soft expression as he solves the math problem? It doesn’t make sense.

It kind of does.

Whatever.

But all that is in the past now and if I’m being honest I’m really happy I fought with Yukine. Because of that fight I met Nana and her fraternal twin brother Shiigun and I’m also closer to Yukine now than before. My life has definitely become a lot more fun than before.

Thanks to Yukine’s better social skills I get better along with everyone in school including teachers and staff. I really like that about him. I think that’s the main reason why he is so nice to me too. I really admire him for it.

Yukine and I are still rivals though, don’t get me wrong. We are still argue and fight but now we know each other a little bit better so we know that we don’t have to be better than the other at everything. Even though I will always better than him in academics even he says otherwise. I’ll let him have his spotlight with social stuff.

The lunch bell rings and I immediately take out my study notebook and start studying for history, the exams are next week and I need to be the best. I would prefer to do homework right now but there isn’t enough time to properly do it so a quick overview of history will do for now. I can always do homework in the comfort of my home where no one can bother or distract me.

“-chan you need to give it a rest. It’s not good for you.” Nana interrupts my study time as she rests her hand over my notes to take my attention.

“Both you and Yukine are overkills, I swear you guys are the biggest nerds in the whole school- no, the whole world!” Shiihgun has a talent to sting me where it hurts. I know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way but I’ve always been insecure about how I’m perceived by others and he doesn’t help one bit.

I try to laugh it off as I’ve seen Yukine do it before since I’m guessing that’s what I’m supposed to do. I hope my laugh seems genuine and not painful or forced. Please, don’t let my discomfort show.

Yukine turns my way as we’re laughing off Shiigun’s mean joke. I guess acting isn’t my thing because as soon as our eye meet he casually makes his way to my desk, leans in (invading my personal space if you ask me) and in a whispers tells me that he thinks it’s pretty cool of us to be the biggest nerds of the whole world. If the coolest kid in school says so then I guess we are pretty cool.

I realize that I’m too distracted to focus back on studying and Nana has a point I need the break, so I guess I’ll take her advice and rest during lunch time. As I start putting my notebooks away I realize that I forgot to pack my bento box. I guess I was too distracted when I left home this morning.

“Eeh?! You forgot your bento?” I wanted to pretend that I didn’t forget my bento, that I wasn’t looking for it and that I wasn’t hungry but apparently once again my acting skills failed me because now Nana saw right through me.

“I didn’t forget it. I’m trying to eat less.” I poorly try to act casually. Maybe I should stop acting.

“Here. Have one.” Yukine offers me one of his onigiri. “I always bring enough to share.” He reassures me as he notice my hesitation.

I reach my hand out to take the onigiri, as I do I start smelling a scent. A scent with the smell of… toothpaste? That’s weird.

I take a bite of the onigiri and I’m reminded of that winter afternoon where Yukine sneaked freshly made onigiri from his home to share with me. I remember how we ate them under a bridge while I did paper boats out of leaves and trash that I found under the bridge. I remember that I was feeling upset for some reason, what was the reason? Something to do with my dad? But…. I wasn’t even friends with Yukine in winter.

This doesn’t make sense.

I shake off the confusion and decide to focus on the argument Nana is having with Yukine about who would win in a physical fight. I would bet this onigiri that Nana would beat Yukine.

After a long day in school where I couldn’t study as much as I would have wanted I thought I would have gone straight home to study everything that I couldn’t during the day but instead I’m walking in the direction of the river bank on my way to play badminton with Nana, her brother and Yukine. As I was getting ready to head home Nana stopped me and asked me to come with them.

I wasn’t sure at first if I should go but Yukine told me that if second best in school was taking some time to have fun then the best could also do the same.

On our way to the river bank I try to make some casual conversation with Yukine so I ask him what made them invite me to come along with them.

“We always wanted to invite you- well, I always insisted on inviting you. But you always seems busy.” Yukine explains.

“I was also busy today.” I challenged his logic.

“But not busy enough to say no.” he retorted with a cheeky attitude. After I gave him a look with an eyebrow raised he continued “But also last week this homeless creepy dude approached us asking if he could be our fourth player so we want to avoid him getting any ideas.”

“Was the dude in his twenties, had black hair, bright blue eyes, and wore a smelly sweaty dark track suit?” the image of the dude suddenly popped in my head with such a clarity that I had to ask.

Yukine looked at me with an extremely puzzled look. “No… Where did you get that from? Is there someone like that where you live?”

Now that I think about it, the man I just describe isn’t anyone that I know or seen. I wonder where did I get that mental image in my head. I must have seen him on TV.

“I don’t know..”

As we’re approaching the river bank we make a quick stop for snacks. The store where we stopped by is owned by a very lovely and young married couple. Yukine tells us that he sometimes works here on weekends helping move the heavy stuff and because of that he gets free snacks whenever he comes by.

“Yuki! You came!” A young lady with bright pink hair yells out in excitement as she rushes to bear-hug Yukine. I’m guessing that’s one of the owners.

“Yuki! Great timing! Can you help out this Saturday? The roof needs to be repaired.” A scary looking man asks while he gets the young lady off Yukine.

It seems that Nana and Shiigun also know this odd couple because it takes them no time to start chatting amongst themselves. Because of that I start doing what I usually do and entertain myself with whatever catches my eye.

I first focus on the discount signs they have scattered in different parts of the background, I then notice how they have some fresh fruit as well but what really catches my eye is the magazine and newspaper shelf they have, one usually doesn’t see those anymore and even less in a small store such as this one.

I start reading the magazine covers and I eventually drift to the headlines. As soon as I do I feel my heart drop.

It’s that news again.

To be fair, it’s to be expected. It was in the morning news after all. But that doesn’t make it any better. While I read that particular newspaper I notice that there’s more details about that story than what I had already heard in the street gossip and in the morning news. Now I’m learning that the man actually killed the daughter who was my age and the older brother manage to run away and he was the one that call the authorities.

Props to the journalist that wrote this thought because it feels so real that it feels like I’m actually that girl that got killed. Good thing that my father is a sane person, that my mother is alive and well and that I don’t actually have a brother.

“-chan, they are talking to you.” For the third time today I get startle back into reality. I turn around to see Nana who grabbed my shoulder to get my attention.

“What?” I asked confused turning to look at the pink hair lady who I guess was the one that talked to me.

“Say hi to Yato-chan for me!” She excitedly and with confidence said as she waved us goodbye.

Yato-chan?

“Bye Kofuku! Bye Daikoku! Thanks for the football!” Yukine yells back as we leave the store owners flirting to each other.

I try to question Kofuku’s comment but between everyone else already walking away, the already said goodbyes and my confusion I couldn’t say anything. Why did she talk to me like she knew me? Why did no one else think that was weird? And who is Yato-chan?

We arrive at the river bank and Shiigun and Yukine start playing with the football apparently Daikoku gave Yukine while Nana and I set up the badminton net. Nana instructs me where to stand with the other side of the net and then teaches me how to anchor the net on the grass.

“Come on, guys. We’re ready.” Nana calls out as she goes to the bags she and Shiigun carried out here to take out the rackets and the bird so we could start playing a match. As she calls out I finish anchoring the net to the grass. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t having fun being out here with my friends, just hanging out. I might even say that this is more fun that history homework.

Might.

I approach Nana and Yukine who were already tossing a coin to choose who got what side of the net. Shiigun had gone to retrieve the ball that had been accidentally kicked far.

“Look out!” I hear Shiigun panic at the top of his lungs followed by a hit to my head that knocked me down so hard and fast that I didn’t get a chance to do anything other than fall like a wood plank. My vision went black, my consciousness faded as I heard Nana and Yukine faintly scream my name.

Get up.

I hear a high pitched ring in my ear, the throbbing headache bringing me back to my senses. I know I need to get up but a piercing pain in my back freezes all my movements. The hard cold floor isn’t doing any favors either.

Get up now.

The cold wind hits my skin as I reach my arm up to feel my head. I feel a warm liquid gushing through somewhere in my skull but I can’t really feel exactly where. I wish I could become more aware of myself than before but between the sharp pain in my back and the dizziness this headache is giving me I decide that I should probably go back to sleep and not think about the pain.

You’re going to die.

A jolt of electricity rushes through my spine. My eyes shoot open as if I were to die if I kept them close for a second longer. My body is screaming in pain as I try to sit upright.

Between the grunts and cries of pain that scape my mouth my eyes start noticing things that… I’m pretty sure they weren’t there before.

There’s a man standing over me. He looks like he’s in his late teens even though he feels older. As he’s wiping his sweat and what it looks like blood from his jaw with the back of his left hand I notice that his hair resembles a lot to an almond.

He doesn’t look injured where he’s wiping the blood so… whose blood is it?

I glance at his right hand and I see him holding a long black staff-looking thing. The staff is thin and black with a spiral form on one of its ends. It looks very rigid even though it feels like it can be bend and molded if it so desired. I notice that the same end that looks alive was dripping with blood.

My blood?

I turn back to this man’s face and I realize that he’s been looking directly at me this all time. His eyes move to focus on the different parts where I feel the most pain as if he were looking at something worth admiring. He then turns his eyes and looks directly at mine. His expression turns into what an angry but disappointed father would look like. As he did that I felt disgusted at myself. Is he upset that I got injured? But he did this to me!

That’s right. Father did this. I started recalling everything that happened before I lost conciseness. Memories come flooding back increasing the pain that I feel from the headache. After I had arrived with Hiyori to where Father and Yato were fighting- Father was so angry. He was so… ready to kill Yato. It felt terrifying but also familiar. It felt like those times where Father punished me for Yato’s behavior but somehow this time it was worse.

I don’t know what came over me when I rushed in and pushed Yato out of the way. Maybe I just wanted to return the favor of all those times he took the bullet for me or maybe I didn’t want to see him get hurt again at the hands of Father. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with Hiyori after the fight, maybe I just wanted someone to get the life that they wish to have.

But now look at me. I don’t even know if Yato is even alive, I left Hiyori’s side and now I’m even wishing the end of this endless torture. Everything I do, everything I am is a waste.

Pathetic.

Hiyori said I’m allowed to make mistakes, that I’m human. I’m not and I never was. The bare thought of making a mistake and being looked down upon eats me up inside until my outer shell breaks leaving me no other place else to hide.

I wish I could let myself believe that excuse, I wish I could believe in myself, believe that it’s okay to not be perfect, that its okay to fail, that its okay to not be okay. But the fact that I fail at even accepting the reality that I can’t be perfect goes to show how big of a failure I truly am.

I wish I could blame him for making me think this way but this is all on me and that would have never changed.

I did try to change, that’s why I’m here right now dying at the hands of the one I once called father. I did try to be the person Hiyori wanted me to be. Be myself. I really liked her because of that. That’s why I here instead of her.

Ironic isn’t it? The person I hate the most, the person I fear the most, is the very person I never want to let down. Maybe that’s why I’m always so scared whenever he's near. Scared to be asked, scared of a conversation, scared of not doing what’s expected of me, scared of not being enough, scared of my own shadow, scared of myself.

Maybe I don’t hate him, maybe I just hate me.

I feel whatever this life I’ve had vanishing from existence, not even leaving a dead corpse behind. It’s pretty unfair right? I got two shots at life. Two opportunities. Most don’t even get one. But not me, I got two chances at live and in both I was unwanted, despised and casted aside. Maybe third time’s the charm? If there’s even a third time.

If.

“If only” right? Those are the famous words. If only there was a third chance at life. If only I needed just the first one. If only I didn’t die so young. If only Sakura didn’t showed up. If only she didn’t succumb to god’s greatest secret. If only I had instead.

If only the gods treated me better, if only I didn’t become a nora. If only someone wanted me. If only Yato didn’t rebel. If only I was a better sister to Yato. If only Yato didn’t replace me with Yukine. If only I was less judgmental of Yukine. If only Yukine and I had met while we were both still alive. If only I had friends. If only I went to school. If only I had met my parents. If only father didn’t take me in. If only father accomplished his revenge sooner.

If only I was allowed to live like a normal girl. If only I was born.

But I wasn’t.

#noragami #noragami fanfiction #nora noragami #noragamireversebang2021 #I didnt mean to make nora suffer more #it just happened

41 notes · View notes

mashiraostail · 4 years

Note

Hiiii, i was wondering if i could request some vlad king and gang orca taking care of their s/o pets. Like if the reader was out of town and asked them to take care of their dogs👉👈 i feel like vlad is such a good doggy dad that the dogs play together and i feel like gang orca would be lost but doing his best and if he was taking care of a cat i like to think it would love being around him because cats love fish and he would just always have his s/o cat cuddling on his lap. Im sorry for ranting lol i love your work you're doing great💕

awwehehe this is so cute since you mentioned dogs for vlad and cats for kugo that's what i went with! also indulged myself and included kugo/ jiro/shoji content bc that seems like such a GOOD FUNNY AND WHOLESOME trio and i wanted more content than we got smh

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: "Hey Sek, I need a huge favor.” You look up from your phone at the taller man who is currently scrunched into the corner of his couch scrutinizing a piece of paper with really terrible handwriting on it. “Sounds dangerous.” He replies without looking up and you snort dropping to the cushion beside him. “Only a little, but I think you’re good for it.” “Alright then, so what’s the favor?” His eyes flick up to you. “I need to go visit a friend out of town.” You sigh, “she had a baby last month, I used to work with her husband and she asked if I wanted to spend some time back home with her for her birthday next week, I should be about five days.” You rest your hands on his knees, “so while I’m out there..would you mind watching Kilo for me? I hate to leave him behind but It’d be a pain to travel so far with him I know he hates trains.” “That’s a huge favor?” He raises an eyebrow at you, “sure I can watch him. I bet they’ll get along fine.” He glances at his own dog curled up under a chair. “But only If you can figure out what the hell Monoma tried to write here.” For all intents and purposes, Kilo was a good dog, a little stupid, but a good dog nonetheless. To be honest, he’s really honored you trust him with the task, you’re the only person he’s met that seems to love your own dog as much as he loves his. Plus it also meant that Kilo had to like him a fair bit which was also a relief, as a dog owner he knew any potential partner was only as compatible with him as they were with his dog, and his dog loved you, he was sure you felt the same way, any partner that Kilo didn’t get along with would be impossible for you to get along with, he found it more than a little reassuring that Kilo seemed to enjoy his company. Past all that, and maybe even most important this was a perfect opportunity to introduce the two dogs. He was sure it was no secret to you but this wasn’t exactly a casual fling, with the way things were going it felt pretty inevitable that he’d ask if you wanted to move in together; but if the two didn’t get along well then..that’d be an issue. Though he was sure if things got tested out now you’d have some time to at least try to get the dogs to be comfortable with each other or hopefully think of some sort of workaround. In his eyes, this was a blessing for him as much as it was a favor to you. “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping Kilo at your place?” Sekijiro is slightly embarrassed to say how early he arrived at this park, he wanted to tire his own dog out before introducing the pair, he’d advised you to do the same so you were walking to the park, you'd called him on your way. “Of course I don’t mind babe.” He tosses a ball from his seat on the bench and watches his pudgy bulldog trot over to it, “it’ll be easier this way, right?” “Yeah that’s true, I just don’t want Kilo wrecking any of your stuff, he always means well but he gets into trouble sometimes-” “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be a model student by the time you get back.” He hears you laugh into the receiver at that. “I don’t doubt that, I’m almost there, I’ll see you in a few okay?” “Yeah sure thing, can’t wait.” You huff out another laugh at him before hanging up. “Sekijiro!” You chirp brightly at the sight of the man, he’s too busy taking you in to respond. Kilo’s trotting a foot or so in front of you on his leash, that old joke about dogs looking reminiscent of their owners was certainly true in your case, you both looked delighted to see him and beyond that, you were practically glowing... Maybe he just had a thing for people who were good with animals. “Hey Sek?” You lean down in front of him. “Hey! He welcomes Kilo between his knees, the mixed breed was a bit larger than his dog who was currently bounding back to him with a ball and sufficient slobber hanging from his mouth, the size difference in mind though Kilo was a hell of a lot less bulky, he was practically streamlined, Sekijiro had seen how fast the dog could run with his own eyes. He could see why you took so much pride in the dog, he was definitely beautiful his coat was long, wavy, and shiny and he had big blue eyes and admittedly the cutest pink nose and spotted tongue Sekijiro had ever seen. “Thanks so much again for doing this I really-” An excited bark pulls your attention downwards, “look who it is!” You sing, crouching down to pet the panting dog, “you sure look tired. Sekijiro is working you too hard.” You frown at him as he hops up to rest his front paws on your thighs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sekijiro laughs, “but he is worn out, I guess Kilo is too though.” Kilo’s head is on his knee, the larger dog is panting too. They seem to notice each other, and approach with a lazy curiosity. They sniff around each other for a bit but after that return to their respective activities, seemingly unbothered by each other and the proximity of the other dog to their owner. Kilo didn’t mind your cooing at Vlad’s dog who didn’t seem to mind Kilo’s head in his owner's lap. With that little bit of reassurance, you hand him Kilo’s leash and a bag of his stuff; food dish, some toys and treats and the like, and then you part ways after promising to call him when you get to your home town safely. All in all the coming days are pretty uneventful, Kilo joins them on their daily walks, eats at the same time with no trouble, finds a comfortable place to sleep each night. “Is Kilo alright?” Your voice is nervous in the receiver. “He’s better than babe, seriously they’re getting along great.” “God that’s such a relief.” You sigh, “the pictures you’ve sent are cute..gosh I miss him.” You pout a little. “Gee I miss you too babe.” He mutters it with a playful edge to his voice and you gasp, “I was going to say I miss you too but forget it!” “don’t be mean!” He complains back, “I was kidding! And anyway I miss you. How’s it been out there?” You go off on your usual tangents before ending up back at square one. “Oh! I called you for a reason actually!” You remember, “I’ll be a little bit late getting back on Sunday, one of the trains is going to be down so I’m taking a later one, I should be back around midnight now would you mind-” “Of course not babe, I’ll get you from the station so-” “No no! It’s okay you’ve already done so much that’s not what I was going to ask! I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t mind keeping Kilo around for the extra time...I can get a taxi, seriously don’t wait up for me!” “Well just come to my place when you get back right?” “I wouldn’t wanna wake you up-” “It’s been way too long since I saw you last, so I don’t mind, if you won’t let me pick you up from the station at least come right here.” “You’re convincing.” You laugh a little, embarrassment heating up your face, “I guess that’s fine with me then...” A distant sounding voice pulls you away from the receiver, “Sek I have to go, I’ll call you again soon though!” “Don’t worry about anything babe.” He reassures you as you hang up. There is one minor spat over a rope toy but it’s resolved easily enough and the pair seem to get on swimmingly after that, even sharing a couch cushion and occasionally resting their heads on each other, they become incredibly fast friends, which is probably the biggest relief on the planet to Sekijiro. Watching the two of them play tug of war in his living room or witnessing their schemes to get leftovers off the counter on Thursday night essentially cement his vision of a future with you. If you were being totally honest it was embarrassing how attractive you found Sekijiro getting along with your dog to be, you’d never got the obsession of handsome guys holding cute babies but seeing some of the photos he’d sent to you over the almost 6 days you were gone made butterflies crop up in your stomach the likes of which you’d only felt when he was actively trying to fluster you...but this seemed totally unintentional. To say you were incredibly eager to go home and see him (jump his bones) felt like an understatement. It’s past midnight when you get back and the place is mostly dark, you see a vaguely bulldog shaped blob partially under a blanket on the couch, but the snoring it emits gives away it’s identity easily. You leave your bag at the door and venture into the apartment, poking your nose into the bedroom. Of course, Sekijiro is there, dead asleep on his back, and who’s with him but Kilo, his head resting on the blood hero’s chest one of his hands resting on top of it. “Oh Vlad-” You coo, you practically sing it at him. “Wha-whatsitwhat-” He rubs his face as he picks his head up, “oh, hey welcome back ‘s good to see you, missed you-” “You’re so sweet-” You’re already at the side of his bed, leaning down and kissing him. “What’s-” Sekijiro takes a minute to process everything before he realizes it’s Kilo’s head on his chest making you act like this. “Oh no way, he’s been a total angel-” “I’m so glad he likes you so much-” You murmur it between kisses, to his lips and various other spots on his cheeks and jaw, “you guys are adorable together.” “I’m glad you think so-” He cuts himself off with a yawn and turns into your lips, kissing you again before speaking, “you weren’t kidding about that late train huh? It’s almost 1 AM, you must be exhausted, there’s plenty of room for you in here so come on.”

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: “Hey, Kugo...” You approach him from behind and wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning against the back of the chair he’s sat in. “Yes?” One hand comes up to cover your forearm the other stays dutifully at work. “You love me, right?” You rest your head against his and he pricks up at the inquisition. “Of course I do, why would you ask a question like that? Is something wrong?” The way his hand subtly squeezes your arm isn’t lost on you. “Hmm..no nothing's wrong.” You lean into him and close your eyes as he sighs good-naturedly. “Then what? Did you just want to hear me say it?” He leans back into you, “I guess I could entertain that...” His thumb swipes a long stroke over the skin of your forearm, “I love you, dear.” He can feel you prickle up at that behind him. “I love you too Kugo.” You squeeze him tighter and he huffs out a quiet laugh. “I’m glad to hear it. Now is that all you needed?” He puts his pen down to bring his other hand up to your arms, “I’m a bit busy. You’re welcome to stay there if you like though I just need to finish some paperwork and make a few phone calls. After that, we can do whatever you like for the night.” “Well, now that you mention it there was just one more thing. I’ll be fast I promise.” Your hand slides underneath his lapel and into his jacket. “Don’t worry I can make a bit of time for you then, what’s the matter?” You make eye contact with him through his darkened computer screen. “My boss invited me to this big conference next week, it’s a pretty great opportunity and I could meet some important people..” You explain, biting your lip, “it could be really good for me to branch out even she thinks so, and getting some more experience will be great, and it’s pretty close to my hometown so I figured I'd stop in and see some old friends after I got done..It’d be about 5 or so days and I’d really like to go.” You sigh and he seems more than a little confused based on his reflection. “That does sound like a great opportunity for you, you’re right..what’s the problem then? Do you need advice about something?” His confusion doesn’t quell even as you kiss his temple. “I probably will later but for now the problem is Luna.” “Your cat?” Kugo piques, “why is she a problem?” You sigh, “if I’m not around no one will be there to feed her and make sure she stays out of trouble.” “Oh is that it? That’s no problem at all dear, I can look after her for you. Is that what you were going to ask me?” “You don’t mind?” You perk up, “I don’t want to trouble you...and I know I could just as easily leave a key under my mat and have a neighbor do it but I trust you so much more and-” “It’s no trouble, really.” Kugo laughs a little, "I pass by your apartment all the time on patrols, I’m sure the interns won't mind if I make a stop and head up to check on her every now and again.” “Oh! You can totally bring them up if they like cats!” He laughs at that too. “Was that all?” “Mhm.” You nod and use the motion to nestle into him a bit, “Thank you Kugo.” ”It’s really my pleasure. Leave it to me, alright?” All things considered, Kugo’s also pretty honored to be trusted with the task of watching your pet cat, he knows how much you love and worry about her, you dote on her all the time, and if the copious amount of photos you send him of her say anything she’s definitely your pride and joy. For the most part, you spent the bulk of your time with Kugo at his own home, due largely to the fact that he was larger than average and he existed a fair bit more comfortably there, but he paid you visits in your apartment from time to time and had met the cat, she seemed to like him plenty which was a relief as well. You stop at Kugo’s before you leave and give him a list of things to double-check when he stops in, though you reassure him that there shouldn’t be any problems, Luna was pretty independent and mellow she didn’t like going outside so he didn’t have to worry about her escaping or anything like that. He tries to stop in at least 3 times a day, before, during, and after patrols, he knows that’s probably overkill, you spend all day at work and have never had an issue but he hates the idea of something happening to the feline on his watch. Plus even if he wouldn’t readily admit it he saw this as a perfect time to get on the cat's good side, you said she already loved him but he wasn’t convinced. He knew how much you loved her and any vision of your future that he had always featured the mellow feline so in his mind it was imperative they got on well. On top of that, he was glad you trusted him with something as small and delicate as Luna, she fits pretty comfortably in his hand and was as fragile as she was petit, but you never seemed off-put by the idea of him holding her or petting her, in fact, you encouraged it. The way you even wanted him near her when you weren’t around to supervise put him at ease about his strength and size, he always worried about breaking delicate things, but that wasn’t a worry you seemed to echo. “Is something going on in that building?” Shoji looks up at your complex as he pauses by it, “you’re stopping here a lot since yesterday.” “Huh? Oh. Actually no... well nothing of importance to you. I’m...catsitting.” Jiro holds her breath the hold in the laugh, “Catsitting?” “Yes...my partner is away at a work conference, the cat in question is theirs.” Kugo nods, “if you like cats you can come up and meet her, she’s actually quite friendly.” Kugo was pretty used to Luna at this juncture, but whenever other people met her it was easy to see why you were so proud of her, she was quite the stunning cat, a long dark grey and black coat with big green eyes and a swishing tail, her paws were colored as if she was wearing boots. “Wow...she’s really pretty, I’ve never seen a cat like this.” Jiro was crouched on the ground, stroking her neck. “I was surprised too.” Kugo confesses, “they found her in a box on the side of the road about a year before we met. She was only a kitten then. Her name’s Luna.” She seemed to like the pair equally alternating between them, rubbing against their legs and shuffling her head into their palms. “She is very friendly.” Shoji remarks as she purrs at him, attempting to climb into his lap. “She’s good at getting into trouble, but she usually means well. You can stay with her for a minute.” He sets off to double-check the usual; food, water, litterbox, the loose window that she’s always wiggling open despite having no desire to climb out of it, he waters a few plants and straightens up anything she knocked over as well. When he returns she's overturned on Shoji’s lap. “You’re getting along well.” He swipes a pillow she’d knocked over up and replaces it on the couch. “She’s really sweet!” Jiro is scratching her stomach. “I’m glad to hear it.” “Hey..sorry if this is too personal or whatever but I didn’t know you were.. dating someone... We didn’t snoop or anything though!” She swears, holding both hands up, the cat looks disgruntled at the loss of attention. “It’s alright I trust you.” Kugo waves her off, “Luna looks too comfortable anyways, you’ve clearly been petting her this whole time.” He adds with a small chuckle. At the sound of her name, she rolls over and winds around his feet, circling through his ankles and pawing at his pants until he lifts her up. “To answer you though yes I am seeing someone.” He holds Luna with one hand, his ring and middle finger scratching the patch of grey fur on her chest. “Are they a hero too?” She wonders, straightening up. “No...no they’re not, I’m not very public about this sort of thing.” Shoji contemplates that, “they have a nice apartment.” “That is true, it’s a good job, and they do have a pretty keen eye for decorating” He agrees, looking around amicably. “Have you guys been together for a long time?” Jiro blurts out before feeling color float up to her cheeks, “sorry I don’t mean to be rude... I just never pictured you like this I guess I’m curious-” “It’s okay, most people don’t, and yes, we’ve been together a while now.” Kugo raises a hand to calm her, “but like I said before I’m not very public about things like this which is why you wouldn’t have heard..though either way, even when we do go out together... most people don’t assume I do that sort of thing, and to be frank, we aren’t the most...visually compatible pair..” He says that with a distinct fondness in his voice and then continues, “like you said, you don’t really picture me in this sort of light, most people don’t so hero gossip tabloids tend to leave me alone for the most part, I get a fair bit of freedom when it comes to this sort of thing because of that. There are probably plenty of photos of us together out there, though people usually assume they’re my manager or a secretary or just a friend.” Luna is purring loudly in his hand, her body largely slack against his chest. He walks her over to the couch and sets her down, which she warbles angrily at, “to be honest though I prefer it this way. I’m a private person.” “That makes sense...well, their cat sure likes you.” Shoji points and Kugo chuckles. “I’m fond of her myself.” Kugo admits, “everything is as it should be here so we can head out again, sorry for the tangent.” He scratches Luna’s neck and sighs, “as for you I’ll be back tonight. So try to behave until then, for my sake alright?” Jiro tries not to laugh at the sight. “I didn’t think you’d actually bring them up! Did they like her?” You sound delighted about it over the phone that night. “I may have knocked a few intimidation points off of myself, but yes they thought she was cute.” He was sitting with her, contemplating staying the night here. He was embarrassed to say it but this was the longest you’d spent apart in a while and despite any appearances, he had gone soft and was starting to miss you, being around your stuff was nice even if he didn’t fit too well in your bed. “I don’t think you’re very intimidating at all.” You peep back thoughtlessly. “Well, I’d sure hope not.” He chuckles and leans against the couch, “she’s been good too I was,..expecting her to break more.” Truthfully Kugo wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he never had pets growing up and hero work didn’t give much free time to consider one, it took a day to get comfortable with her, and even now he was watching his every step for her. “I’m glad to hear that!” You laugh, “she’s a pretty great cat isn't she?” “I have to agree..” Kugo wouldn’t mind having her around all the time, the longer he sat on your couch and contemplated it the more he realized he wouldn't mind having the both of you around all the time. Was this some sort of emotional sign to ask you to stay with him? He’d give that more thought at a later date. “Kugo are you listening?” “Of course I am.” He was not. You don’t seem perturbed though, chuckling and then sighing fondly, “I’m gonna go shower then call it a night, I miss you two though.” Kugo looks down at the cat on his lap and he nods, “we miss you too. I’ll be up for a bit longer so call or text me if you need anything.” “You shouldn’t stay up so late Kugo it’s bad for you-” “I know, I know, I’ll turn over a new leaf when you get back.” “Sure you will.” You snort, “I love you Kugo.” “I love you too, I’ll see you soon.” You wanted to see Kugo first thing when you got back but you were so exhausted that you can’t help sulking to your own place, things had gone well enough but all the commotion and travel really drained you. You were sure it wasn’t anything spending some time or even a night with Kugo couldn’t fix though. When you shoulder your door open though there’s Kugo, sitting on your couch. “Kugo, you’re here?” He’s holding some papers in one hand, the other is holding Luna’s back, keeping her against his chest. “I was just checking in on her but every time I tried to leave she started..making a weird noise.” “Weird like how?” You chuckle, suddenly feeling much better. “Sort of like screaming. But cat-like. I sat down and she clawed her way up here, then fell asleep and almost fell off, but I caught her and she hasn’t moved since.” “And... how long ago was that?” “What time is it?” “Half-past 6.” “2 hours ago. I didn’t want to wake her.” “Kugo.” You laugh and sit beside him, “you’re so sweet.” You wrap both of your arms around one of his and lean into his shoulder, “I missed you so much.” “I missed you too.” Kugo sets the papers down on the pile by the arm of the couch, “It's sort of embarrassing but I even stayed here a few nights because of it. I can’t remember the last time I went even 2 days without seeing you.” He appreciates the way you seem to melt into him at that. “That’s not embarrassing it’s sweet, you’re so cute Kugo...” You lean up and kiss him, “such a big softie aren’t you?” A soft hum is his reply as you pull away, “was she any trouble? Be honest.” “I was worried at first that I’d screw it up somehow but it went fine.” He confesses as he lifts the cat off his chest and she’s sleepy and limp in his big hand, purring contentedly. “She was acting up the 2nd day but I think she was just confused about not seeing you. Then she got used to me and was alright.” “That’s cute..” You yawn and clamber onto his lap, “god all that traveling tired me out...you’ve been stuck here for 2 hours but I might have to trap you a little longer to take a catnap of my own. I think Luna’s onto something...” You nestle into his shoulder, grateful to feel his arms come around you. “Don’t worry about me.” He hums as Luna curls up in the sliver of space between your bodies, “I just want to finish reading over some things. Then I'll bring you both to bed.” “You’ll stay tonight?” You yawn again and he hums, you can tell he’s smiling even though you can’t see him. “Would you like me to?” You nod into his shoulder, “yeah, I would...” “Alright then I will. Now go to sleep, you need it.”

#kugo sakamata x reader #gang orca x reader #vlad king x reader #kan sekijiro x reader #bnha x reader #bnha requests

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉]

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen.

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long.

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual.

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren’t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway.

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon.

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away.

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking.

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking.

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you.

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound.

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity.

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore.

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you.

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering.

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional.

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane.

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases.

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi.

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort.

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously.

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff.

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice.

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future.

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head.

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in.

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented.

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk.

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied.

“Of course.” Yoongi said.

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod.

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again.

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds.

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout.

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours.

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door.

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair.

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you.

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice.

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently.

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene.

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed.

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks.

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length.

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered.

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably.

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose.

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly.

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands.

Holding your hands.

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed.

He felt so tired.

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze.

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry.

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom.

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door.

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts.

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt.

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted.

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it.

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between.

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both.

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured.

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs.

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers.

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft.

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head.

Taking off your panties, you followed him in.

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides.

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied.

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head.

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees.

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him.

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close.

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth.

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall.

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away.

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath.

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice.

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face.

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly.

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs.

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?”

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance.

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward.

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in.

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving.

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes.

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice.

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on.

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly.

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–”

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space.

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair.

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly.

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own.

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs.

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered.

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed.

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up.

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested.

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully.

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits.

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged.

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair.

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes.

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn.

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes.

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him.

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one.

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up.

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.”

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries.

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you.

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table.

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze.

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session.

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met.

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him.

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down.

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down,

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked.

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly.

“Kitten.” He called again.

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not.

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.”

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.”

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger.

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon.

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm.

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt.

Disappointing.

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed.

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times.

He started considering his options.

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up.

Now he only had to rouse you.

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off.

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them.

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar.

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep.

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed.

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions.

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real.

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin.

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear.

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep.

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle.

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex.

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out.

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out.

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths.

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes.

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him.

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear.

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it.

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him.

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud.

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot.

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached.

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight.

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse.

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you.

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised.

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front.

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get.

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers.

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come.

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes.

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric.

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately.

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat.

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it.

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider.

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction.

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you.

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum.

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased.

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth.

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches.

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands.

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp.

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs.

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia.

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time.

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg.

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible.

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone.

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it.

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in.

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last.

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between.

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first.

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed.

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more.

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit.

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit.

There was his suggestion.

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone.

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense.

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt.

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up.

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit.

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation.

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly.

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name.

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance.

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold.

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot.

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place.

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out.

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit.

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves.

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris.

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust.

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you.

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you.

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere.

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly.

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex.

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you.

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide.

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you.

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple.

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out.

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around.

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts.

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment.

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself.

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting.

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny.

“Yes.” You sibilated.

“Yes?” He asked again.

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless.

“Yes.” You whispered again.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster.

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale.

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly.

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair.

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #suga smut #suga x reader #yoongi fanfiction #suga fanfiction #bts smut #bangtan smut #bts blog #bts fanfiction #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #min yoongi

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miracleonice87 · 4 years

Text

I’ll Take Care of You, part two

a Tyler Seguin fic

a/n: this one’s from Peyton’s perspective. back in the fall when I first started writing fics again, I wrote part one in first person, which I don’t really do anymore, but I’m keeping that consistent for this one. read part one here first if you haven’t already.

tw: fainting, mention of miscarriage/loss of pregnancy/infertility/periods

“Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for this to occur with first pregnancies. It happens more often than you might think. It certainly doesn’t mean you won’t ever be able to have a baby. My rule of thumb is to let couples try to get pregnant again naturally for one year without any intervention. Then, if you’re still having difficulties, you can come back in and we can talk about other options.”

It had been eleven months since my doctor had spoken those words to Tyler and me following the miscarriage that had nearly broken us both.

Those eleven months had seen us try again and again each month with no success. I tracked my body temperature and ovulation cycle each and every day before even leaving bed. I’d completely removed alcohol and caffeine from my diet and monitored everything I put into my body, controlling every single factor I could possibly control.

And yet, on the thirteenth day — the unluckiest of days for multiple reasons — of each month, like clockwork, my period arrived. If Tyler was at home when it happened, I simply left the bathroom with a sorrowful shake of my head, curling into his waiting arms as he comforted me silently, holding me close, disappointment weighing heavily on us both. If he was on the road, I texted him only a “🔴” symbol, indicating that my monthly visitor had shown up unwelcome yet again. He replied each time with an, ”I’m sorry, sweetheart,” though he had nothing at all to apologize for.

My patience and determination, along with Tyler’s, were wearing thin. It was feeling more and more impossible to keep the faith — more and more unlikely that this would happen on its own.

I had all but given up hope.

But then...

The eleventh month arrived, and the thirteenth day of it came and went with no sign of my cycle. And then the fourteenth day. And then the fifteenth.

And with that, the smallest sliver of hope glimmered from out of the darkness in the depths of my heart.

But I wouldn’t allow myself to get too excited. With Tyler on a road trip to the East Coast, I barely slept those three nights, tossing and turning and wondering if I should take one of the numerous tests stuffed in the bathroom cabinet.

On the sixteenth, after Tyler had already left for morning skate, I decided it was time. Though I knew I couldn’t do it alone, I also couldn’t stomach the thought of waiting for Ty to return — let alone the thought of seeing his disappointment in the event of yet another negative test.

Thankfully, though, the sixteenth was a Friday — the day that Fanny, Klinger’s fiancée, and I had long ago set aside for morning yoga in my home gym. Fanny, now six months pregnant herself with her and John’s first baby, would arrive at 10 a.m., and I decided that that was as good a time as any to find out what was next for Ty and me — we would either finally start the family we’d always wanted, or it would be time for a different approach.

After greeting one another and stretching over small talk, Fanny carefully broached the topic that I had brought to her, heartbroken, so many times in the past year.

“So how have you been feeling?” she inquired gently from the mat next to mine, bending to the side for a new pose. “Are you on your cycle?”

From where I stood with my arms extended straight out, my face turned away from hers, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and pondered what to say next.

“Well,” I began before clearing my throat, “That’s, um... I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

You pivoted to face Fanny, her pretty eyes now wide as saucers. Slowly, she stood up straight.

“Stop it,” Fanny whispered incredulously, joy etched in her expression.

I shrugged a bit. “I’m late,” I admitted softly. “But only by three days. And I haven’t taken a test-“

“Peyton!” Fanny warned through her giggles, hands finding her hips. “You have to!”

I smiled, appreciating my dear friend’s excitement for me while still feeling the familiar tightness of anxiety in my gut.

“I will,” I promised. “I seriously told myself I was gonna wait to do it while you were here. I couldn’t do it alone and I... if I’m not... well, I just can’t bear to see Ty’s reaction again…”

Fanny nodded solemnly. “Oh, sweetie. I understand,” she assured. “Maybe after we finish up? Or not. I mean, we can do it whenever you feel ready.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling overheated and attributing it to my frayed nerves.

“God, is it hot in here?” I asked, unzipping my lightweight jacket and throwing it aside, still fanning myself though I now wore only a sports bra and athletic shorts.

Fanny frowned, looking at my reflection in the mirrored wall in front of us. “No, I feel fine,” she said.

I tied my ponytail into a high bun to get the hair off my neck, noting a faint ringing in my ears as I placed my feet in position on the mat once more.

As I reached down for my toes, the ringing grew louder, and I suddenly saw stars in my vision.

With trembling hands, I wiped the sweat from my now-dripping brow and stood straight up, but apparently too quickly, as the room around me quickly fell from focus, darkness taking its place.

“Fan... I-I don’t feel good...”

Alarmed at the weakness of my voice, Fanny turned to face me and gasped.

“Babe, oh my god!” she exclaimed — the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

_____

The next thing I heard as I came to was my husband’s voice, which sounded distant and faint. I moaned, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights above me as I realized that I was lying on my back on the floor, with Tyler’s face inches above mine. I opened my eyes slowly and heard him draw a deep breath, announcing, “She’s awake.”

I felt him cup my cheek tenderly as I offered a weak smile.

“Hi,” he breathed, relief heavy in his tone. “Hi, sweet girl. You scared us pretty good.”

“What happened?” I asked, confused by the hoarseness of my own voice. I moved to prop myself up on my elbows, but Tyler gently pushed my shoulders flat once more.

“Shh, shh, hey, don’t get up,” he instructed. “You passed out while you and Fanny were working out. Do you remember that?”

With a furrowed brow, I nodded. I saw Fanny standing behind Tyler, covering her lips with her fingers as she stared at me nervously.

“Oh god, Fan, I’m so sorry,” I murmured, still feeling weak and shaky.

Fanny shook her head and took a couple of steps forward, standing over Tyler’s shoulder. “Babe, no, don’t apologize,” she insisted. “I was just worried about you. Tyler came in the door just a minute after it happened but I had already called 911. I just didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, my eyes fluttering closed once more. “That’s okay,” I said softly.

Just then, there was a knock at the door upstairs, and Fanny hurried up the steps to answer it. I rolled my head to look at Tyler, who stared down at me with deep concern.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he promised, pushing some hair from my still-damp forehead. “We’re gonna get you checked out and see what’s going on, okay?”

I nodded as I heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, and two paramedics followed Fanny to where I lay, still on my yoga mat.

“Hey there,” one of them smiled. “I’m Maria, and this is my partner, Chris. You’re Peyton?”

I nodded as Maria knelt beside me, opposite Tyler, with Chris placing a medic kit on the floor next to him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peyton,” Maria said kindly. “How are you feeling right now?”

I cleared my throat, attempting to blink the fog away.

“Not as bad as I did a few minutes ago,” I half-joked. “But I still feel shaky, and hot.”

Maria nodded, pressing the stethoscope to my chest.

“Can you tell me what you’ve had to eat and drink today?” she asked.

“Um... I had two cups of coffee, a yogurt... and some water during yoga,” I replied.

“Okay,” Maria said as Chris took my pulse, with Tyler holding tight to my other hand and watching their every move. “Any history of fainting before this?”

I shook my head. “No, never,” I said.

“Any blood sugar issues? Diabetes, hypoglycemia?”

“No, nothing.”

“Are you currently on your period?”

My cheeks warmed. This certainly wasn’t the way I had planned to tell Tyler of our latest development.

“Um, n-no,” I admitted sheepishly, glancing at him. I could see the wheels beginning to turn in his mind even as he watched the paramedics instead of me.

“Any chance you could be pregnant?” Maria asked gently as she folded her stethoscope into her bag and reached for a blood pressure cuff.

Shit.

“Uh… actually, yeah.”

Immediately, Tyler’s head snapped toward me.

“Wait, what? Really?” he inquired, joy exuding from his whole being.

I simply shrugged, beaming. “I’m late.”

A small, knowing smile crossed Maria’s face. She wrapped the cuff around my arm and began to squeeze the pump.

“Okay, well, that could be the reason,” Maria noted. “Sometimes when you’re early in a pregnancy, your body might not be getting all the extra rest and nutrients and hydration it needs. It happens sometimes, and often, it’s no big deal.”

I nodded, reaching for Tyler’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said with a scrunched nose. “I just didn’t want to get my hopes up, let alone yours.”

Tyler brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

“It’s okay,” he told me with a shake of his head. “I get it.”

I smiled gratefully, and Maria removed the cuff from my arm.

“Your blood pressure is a little low, which doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “Again, this can happen. Just to be safe, I wanna take you to the hospital for an EKG and monitor you for a bit, and we’ll do a pregnancy test there too, okay?”

I nodded, looking to Tyler for reassurance.

“It’s okay,” he said, knowing exactly what I needed to hear. “I’ll be right there with you.”

_____

One ambulance ride later, with Tyler beside me and Fanny following behind in my car, I had arrived at the emergency department and was being poked and prodded and hooked up to a plethora of monitors. A cardiologist soon confirmed that everything was fine with my heart, and my pregnancy test was then the only result that hung in the balance.

I sat propped up on pillows in the hospital bed, Tyler standing at my side as we waited in silence.

Out of nowhere, tears formed in my eyes, and I tried to swipe at them without Tyler noticing — a futile attempt. When he heard my faint whimper, he stepped closer and gathered me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

“Hey, hey,” he spoke softly. “What is it, baby?”

“I’m scared, Ty,” I whispered, head buried in his chest. “Whether it’s positive or negative. I’m just scared.”

“I know, babe,” he replied, slowly caressing my back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too. You’ve been through hell.”

“We’ve been through hell,” I corrected, sniffling as I looked up at him. Tyler nodded and smoothed his thumb along my jaw.

“We just have to believe that everything is gonna work out this time,” he told me as he kissed my forehead. “Good things are coming, Peyt. I can feel it.”

After several more minutes, my nurse, a sweet woman named Beth who spoke with a thick Texas accent, entered the room holding my chart. I could actually hear my own heartbeat in my ears, this time not because I felt faint, but because I was overwhelmed with anticipation.

“Well, Miss Peyton…” Beth began with a smile. “Congratulations. You’re gonna be a mama.”

I let out a sob and covered my mouth with my hand immediately, and Tyler choked out a breathless laugh. His hands grasped my face as he kissed me firmly.

“You hear that? We’re having a baby,” he whispered, eyes glossy with tears. “God, I love you so much.”

I giggled excitedly. “I love you, too, baby daddy,” I replied, causing Tyler to chuckle, too.

As Beth looked on with a grin, she wrote a few things down on my chart, then said, “Congratulations, you two. I’ll give you some privacy. Peyton, honey, we’ll be back around to check on you in about half an hour, okay?”

I nodded, tears streaking my face. “Yes, yes, thank you,” I spoke. “Thank you so much.”

With a kind nod, she left the room, pulling the sliding glass door closed behind her.

Before the door was even shut, Tyler’s lips found mine once more, his fingers holding my cheeks reverently. Eventually, I pulled away for a breath.

“You were right,” I told him, nudging his nose with mine.

Still completely giddy, he asked with a smile, “What was I right about?”

I reached a hand up to work my fingers through his curls. “You told me good things are coming,” I reminded, voice quivering. “You were right.”

Tyler was overcome with emotion once again and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. For the longest time, we stayed that way, embracing with only the sounds of soft, happy cries filling the room.

_____

eight months later...

“Are you the most handsome little man in the whole wide world? Hmm? I think so,” Tyler spoke to the tiny baby he held in his arms. “I think you’re just the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled from my hospital bed, feeling more exhausted and more in love than I ever knew I was capable of.

“And it’s a good thing you look like your mommy,” Tyler added, smirking at me before kissing the baby’s forehead — our baby’s forehead. “Uncle Jamie is gonna say that too. Yes, he is. I might as well beat him to it, huh?”

I chuckled, patting the mattress beneath me and gesturing for Tyler to join me.

“Bring him back over here,” I pleaded. “I miss him already.”

Tyler hummed knowingly and rose from his chair, carefully cradling the baby in his arms.

“I know,” he said. “I miss him, too, and I’m literally holding him. How is that possible?”

I smiled. “Because having kids means your heart walks around outside of your body,” I spoke, kissing our boy’s chubby cheek as Tyler took his place on my bed. “That’s what my grandmother used to say.”

He nodded. “You’re damn right,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel it already. I never knew it was possible to feel this way, Peyt. As bad as we wanted a baby, as much as it hurt when we lost the first one...” Tyler choked up as he spoke of the loss we’d experienced now almost two years ago. After a pause, he continued. “I still just never thought it would feel this incredible.”

I curled my hands around his arm and kissed his bicep. “Me either,” I admitted airily. “I’ll never forget the pain we felt then. And that baby will always be our first. But this... this is the best day of my life.”

Tyler beamed, wrapping one arm around my waist while cradling the baby to his chest with his other.

“So, are we decided on this little man’s name?” Tyler asked as I touched the baby’s pouted lips, making us both giggled at his expression.

“I think so,” I confirmed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Are you still thinking what I’m thinking?”

Tyler looked down at me with hooded eyes, full of adoration, and nodded. “If you’re sure,” he spoke.

I’d been sure for a few months now, since the first day that I allowed myself to browse a baby name book, still riddled with fear of the unknown, while also waiting expectantly and with hope for our new journey ahead. I didn’t get far, only to the B’s, when I found the perfect name... one that meant blessed.

As I peered down at the boy in my arms, no name seemed more fitting than that one I’d whispered into being long ago.

“I’m sure,” I replied confidently. I cradled the baby’s head in my hand and pressed my lips to his forehead. “Welcome to our world, Bennett Tyler Seguin,” I whispered, overjoyed and humbled to finally have the privilege of having a son to name not only for his daddy, but also for the precious, long-awaited gift he was to us.

“Our boy,” Tyler whispered reverently.

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 23

--------

2000

We were ten years old, Derek and I. Playing a game of hide and seek with his sister Laura. It felt like it was more a game of “let the kids run around and not bother me”. We were deep in the woods outside of their home, laughing and squealing delight as we ran and ran. That is until lightning flashed through the sky and thunder boomed immediately after. Spooked, we ran further from the thunder and lightning, finding a small improvised shelter that we had made a few years before when we would play cops and robbers. Derek’s uncle Peter had helped us build it, occasionally playing the sheriff when he deemed us “less annoying than usual”.

Once inside the little hut, we sat and decided to wait out the storm or at least until someone came to get us. It was mostly dry with only or two leaks in the roof. We waited a while in silence, only the rain and wind howling filled the air. It was almost peaceful. I had been sitting there, literally twiddling my thumbs when I noticed the anxious movements Derek was making. He was tapping his foot against the soft earth and he was repeatedly cracking his knuckles.

“What is it?” I asked. He seemed to snap out of his trance and looked at him, then looking away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“I was just thinking about what my mom said last year... About us being arranged in a marriage.”

“What about it?” I turned my body so that I could face him.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I dunno... I guess that I wouldn’t want to be forced into a marriage with you. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“You’re right.” I glanced out towards the woods, smiling fondly, “I want to fall in love. I want someone like Dimitri in Anastasia.” I sighed dreamily.

“Wasn’t he a con-artist?” Derek raised an eyebrow. I shoved him playfully.

“No...Well, yes. But he doesn’t take the money the Duchess offered him as a reward because he wants Anastasia to be happy.”

“He’s a cartoon.”

“And you’re a dork.” I shook my head, “What about you? Who would you wanna marry someday?”

Derek thought for a moment, “I guess... I would want someone like Anastasia. She’s super badass and defeats the villain all by herself. She also went through a lot and did a lot even when she didn’t remember who she was, she fought for her future.”

As sweet as that was...

“She’s a cartoon.” I mocked his voice. He grinned and shoved me, starting a wrestling match that ended with Talia and Peter finding us. They brought us home and made us hot chocolate.

After landing, Michael and I had taken a ferry to the Shetland islands to Sumburgh, the village on the island where the Lunar Circle was settled. We actually were brought to a castle, which was already insane enough. The next insane thing was a statue just inside the massive doors into the main room of the castle. It was a humanoid with the head of a wolf, wearing a kilt and armor. The creature also carried a sword.

“What is that?” I whispered to Michael.

“The Wulver. A werewolf that had come to peace with his wolf and human sides. He was friendly to locals and they seemed fine with him. That’s when hunters came and tried to kill him. He was the reason for founding the Lunar Circle - coexistence.

“Can I do that?” I whispered under my breath.

“Unfortunately, no.” Our attention was brought to a man with a thick Scottish accent walking into the room, “Our world has lost touch with the old magic. But maybe someday we can bring it back.” He was average height, with salt and pepper hair that was on the longer side and a bit shaggy. His eyes were a kind blue color. He held out his hand to me.

“Praetor Lachlan McLeod.” The stranger introduced himself, “It’s so good to finally meet you, (Y/N).” So this was the man who wrote the letter, it was nice to have a face to a name. I shook his hand and smiled politely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Praetor.” From my googling, Praetor was a Roman term for an official, which was an interesting concept since Rome had completely invaded all of England, Ireland, and Scotland and almost wiped out their culture. But whatever.

“Please, call me Lachlan.”

I nodded, “Okay, Lachlan.” He held both of my hands in his smiling sympathetically.

“I want to extend my condolences, again, for your loss. Your mother and father did so much for the Lunar Circle.”

Slowly, I slipped my hands from his, “Thank you... I just have a lot of questions about them.”

“All in due time, my dear. You’ve had a long flight and I’m sure that you’re exhausted.”

Michael sighed, “Oh, we sure are-”

“I’m not tired. I want answers.” I said sternly. Michael looked incredibly nervous which made me wonder how high up this Lachlan guy was, “I appreciate your concern, sir, but I am coming from a place where I am just now remembering my parents were a part of a secret werewolf society that gave them the tools to take all of my memories away and said society wouldn’t allow me to be accompanied by my partner. It took a lot for him to let me come by myself, especially since he had never trusted the Lunar Circle in the first place.”

“Ah, yes, Derek Hale.” He said, almost amused, “I remember his mother’s rejection letter. It was somehow very personal. I think she referred to me as ‘a spineless coward who would rather fraternize with the enemy than fight them.”

I clicked my tongue, “Sounds like Talia.” Michael nudged my side, signally for me to chill.

“And another thing-”

“Oh no.” Michael hid his face in his hands.

“This guy.” I pointed to Michael, “He killed my parents, isn’t there some kind of punishment for that?”

Michael ripped his hands from his face, “Hey, that wasn’t my fault.”

“Mr. Keaton’s unfortunate affliction caused by Peter Hale has been reviewed.” Lachlan put his arms behind his back, “I assure you. It was all the Hale’s doing.”

I jerked forward, Michael had to grab my arms to hold me back, “Derek is not his uncle.” My eyes flashing red.

Lachlan raised his eyebrows and smiled, leaning down and flashing his alpha red eyes at me in return, “I’m sure he’s not.” The red left his eyes and he stood up straight, “Take her to the infirmary and then straight to bed.” He said to Michael, his eyes never leaving mine. I kept my eyes on him, even as he started to walk away, this kilt swaying with each step.

“The infirmary? Why?” Michael asked.

“I believe Miss (Y/L/N) is carrying something.” He grinned, “Something that may calm her temper.”

After a blood test in the infirmary, we were escorted to two rooms in the castle. Of course, this left me alone with my thoughts that I really didn’t want to think about. Knowing that Derek and everyone else was back home fighting against the alpha pack while I was in this ancient castle where I haven’t gotten the answers I wanted. Why was I even here? To take up my parents’ mantle? Whatever it was, I didn’t want it. I just wanted to go back home and help. I looked out the window of the castle, seeing the moon high in the sky.

I mean, what could they tell that I didn’t already know? My parents took my memories to keep me safe and look where it got them? Burned to ashes. And what else? I was only stalked by a psychopath and had to watch my friend struggle to not hurt anyone. I mean, hell, I was still struggling with the change. Uncle Noah was still processing what I was. Yes, he’s supportive but to what end? And Stiles? I wasn’t there to protect him when he was kidnapped and beaten by the Argents and now I was millions of miles away and if he was in trouble there was nothing that I could do. And if anything happened to Derek and I wasn’t there to save him? What was the point of even being alive? I would be without them, helpless and guilty, all because of some stupid secret society.

My chest got tighter and tighter as my emotions ran high. My thoughts and feelings were moving so quickly that it felt like I didn’t have control of my own mind. My hands clenched tight, I could feel all of my features shift. Coarse hair growing down the sides of my face, the bridge of my nose tightening. I screamed loudly, the high pitch lowering into a loud roar.

“This is your fault!” She shouted, standing up, “Take me home!” She lunged forward. Michael lunged forward, using the shield to knock her back across the room and into the window. Surprisingly, it didn’t break. She fell to the ground, looking up quickly.

MICHAEL

From the loud roar that just came from the next to his, Michael had a feeling that the Sheriff had been right. She was a time bomb and she just exploded. Michael quickly grabbed a shield from one of the suits of armor that for some reason always decorated castles and made his way into (Y/N)’s room. (Y/N) was on the bed, tearing at pillows. There were feathers and fluff flying all over the room. She was in full shift, her eyes fiery red, her canines sharp. Her eyes took him in, snarling loudly. She jumped off the bed, landing in front of him on all fours. Michael jumped back, shield held tight in his hand.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He tried to put on a brave face, “You just need to calm down and get some rest.”

“SCREW YOU!” She shouted, lunging again. This time, Michael moved on the way, letting her slam into the door, which also didn’t break.

“That’s a good door.” He said to himself. Michael looked from the door and back to the angry werewolf. She was seething with rage and one step closer to killing him.

“Think about this. You don’t want to kill me!”

“Yes, I do! I hate you!”

“Hate is such a strong word...” He said nervously. (Y/N) lunged again and was met by a door to the face. Lachlan had opened the door and they both looked down at (Y/N) on the floor. She was on her behind, rubbing her forehead. Lachlan sighed, reaching down to help (Y/N) up.

“I seem to have underestimated your anger. Please, walk with me.”

(Y/N)

Lachlan led me out of the castle and down to the grounds. In the back of the stone walls, there was a large garden. The Praetor hadn’t said anything since we had been out here, but I think that’s what he wanted. The moon and the atmosphere around us was calming, must be the magic here.

“I apologize for dismissing your concerns earlier.” Lachlan said finally, leading us to the cliff side where we could see the waves crashing against the rocks, “You have been through a lot lately. More than any new werewolf is expected to handle as well as you have.” When I looked at him, I could tell he was being genuine.

“I just...” I sighed, leaning against a nearby oak, “I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to leave my partner behind. And... I didn’t want to meet the people who told my parents to take my life from me.”

Lachlan looked up at the moon, the wind flowing through his hair, “Your concerns are near and dear to my heart. My own parents used the Wolf Eclipse spell on me after I mated with a she-wolf from a rival clan. The look in her eyes when I told her I didn’t know who she was... I see it every time I close my eyes. And then I lost her.” His voice shook a bit, “I never forgave them after that.” He looked back at me, “When your parents told us that they had done the spell after the Hale fire, we told them it was a bad idea. You needed to be stronger than ever, maybe even leave Beacon Hills, but they became too attached to the community, to the sheriff and his son.” They stayed for them... I have no idea what my life would have been like without Stiles in it. It was so different. That was a life I didn’t want to think about because it was a life without my best friend and his insane antics. It was a life without Uncle Noah who loved me no matter what. It would be a life without Derek, or at least a life where I wouldn’t be there to meet him again.

“I remember now that my father thought we were safe.” I wrapped my arms around myself, “Chris Argent is loyal to his word and the code his family is supposed to follow. Unfortunately, he is the only one who follows that code. Even his own daughter was corrupted by his father and his sister and she was dating a werewolf.”

“Unfortunately, not every hunter can be Chris Argent. From our understanding, he is the only one fighting with his head while the others see us as inhuman.” He chuckled, “You might even say that we are more human than they are.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

“Lachlan?”

“Hmm?”

“What am I doing here? Why bring me all this way?”

Lachlan looked back up at the moon and smiled, “Well, it was originally to restore your memories. Thankfully, that resolved itself. Now, since you are the only member left of your clan - an alpha was two sparks - we were hoping that you could spend some time with us to relearn the basics. And I also want you to relax, experience your culture, your legacy.”

“That sounds great and all. But I don’t have time to do that. I need to get back to Derek.”

“(Y/N), you know that it is too dangerous for the both of you to be there. I don’t want you to experience what it’s like to lose a mate. It’s... It’s soul crushing. Losing who you love most - that is the worst pain anyone can feel.” Lachlan turned to go back to the castle, “Think about it. You aren’t a prisoner here. You may leave whenever you like. But I think you could do great things with just a little help.” With that, his footsteps faded into the darkness; leaving me with only my thoughts, the moonlight, and the ocean below. I had to make a decision, one that would ultimately decide my future as an alpha. I just wish someone I knew was here to help me make this decision. If only Uncle Noah were here. He was so level headed and wanted the best for me, but the werewolf drama was probably too much for him already. And Derek would want me to hone in on my skills, even if that meant going into battles alone and possibly losing them.

I just wish it wasn’t this hard.

After pressing Derek’s contact, I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. I had no idea what time it was back home, I just needed to at least pretend I was talking to him.

“Hey Der.” I smiled, “I know it’s late or early. Honestly, I’m not sure. But I wanted to call you and tell you how today went. The flight was long, the food was okay. Uh they made me get a blood test for whatever reason. Oh, and there’s this thing called the Wulver and he was a werewolf that came to peace with his human and animal side. Lachlan’s really nice and doesn’t want to take me from you so the coast is clear on that one. And uh I remembered something today. When we were kids, we got lost in the woods in a storm and we talked about crushes. Funny how you had a crush on a girl who lost her memories.” I laughed, “Anyway... I miss you. And I love you. And I’ll be back as soon-”

I was cut off by a beep and a message telling me that the allotted time of this message was over. Sighing, I set my phone down and flopped back on the extravagant bed that seemed to form to my body in just the right way. All the fluff and feathers had been cleaned by the time I came back so I should probably thank whoever the cleaning staff were. All I can do is sleep and hope that tomorrow will give me better answers.

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

Read part 24 here!

I watched Inside today so I am no feeling good.

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#derek hale fic #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Bottom of the Glass

Genre: Bodyguard!AU, Angst

Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

Summary: It’d been almost ten years since you left the life of glitz and cameras behind, never looking back. But someone refused to let go. When danger comes knocking, your father insists on hiring the best to keep you safe. Reluctant, you agree. Park Jinyoung is constantly by your side, but as the stalker gets closer, will he be able to keep you safe without getting too close himself?

Part: 1 I 2

This was the kind of life you always should have lived.

Teenage you wouldn’t be able to understand. That girl was too lost in the flashing lights and the glamor of magazine covers to understand the sacrifices that came with that lifestyle. Those things felt trivial: regular school, normal sleeping hours, being in charge of your own image and your daily activities. What was a classroom compared to flying to Paris for Fashion Week and being photographed on the red carpet?

As a child, you were used to being told what to do and how to behave, so it seemed like routine when your handler changed over from your parents to your manager. You understood that doing what you were told kept you on schedule and in work. They say that hindsight is twenty-twenty. An understatement if you’d ever heard one.

The paperwork and awaiting decisions could feel overwhelming at times, but at least you were the one making the decisions. You had a say and you weren’t treated as a money machine. Yes, as someone with employees, you had people depending on you for their paychecks, but the relationship was different. You weren’t being exploited. Rather, you were looked to for guidance. You might not have been the head honcho of the hotel business, but someday you would be. That was a legacy you truly held on to.

“A package arrived for you, Miss.”

You didn’t even bother to look up as you waved uninterested to your assistant. “Just set it down on the table.” Right now, these budget papers needed your attention. “I’ll open it later.” You hadn’t been expecting anything, but that wasn’t unusual. Partners or sponsors occasionally sent new products to test out or as a gift to keep the mutually beneficial relationship going strong.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jun put the small cardboard box on the coffee table set up on the other side of your office before bowing and leaving.

For another hour, you poured over the suggestions from the different departments of what they believed they needed to fully function for the upcoming fiscal year. All the numbers were beginning to blur together as a headache was starting to pound against your skull. You needed a break.

Yes, this was a much better career for you. Although those looking from the outside might see it as a step down, they didn’t fully understand. It was easy to look at the smiling face on a promotional campaign and stop. They didn’t dig deeper. The need to appear perfect but never reaching that level, the lack of decisions placed in your hands, the lack of privacy. What extremes had you gone to avoid paparazzi or overly adoring fans? How many dates had you gone on that were ruined either because the guy didn’t want all the attention or because that was exactly what they wanted?

Standing up, you stretched your legs by pacing around your office. Thankfully it was spacious enough to give you a good amount of room, letting you make large laps to get the blood flowing again. It was an office fit for a director with its tall windows on the top floor. Your father’s office was a few doors down the hall and even larger than yours. Maybe you should pace in there instead, to get more steps in. With the sun going down on the horizon, the chances of your father still being around were slim. Unlike you, he tried to keep to normal working hours. It made your mother feel more at ease about his health. A troubling concern that bothered you, too. When you were child, your father was Superman, invincible. As an adult, you were no longer shielded from the truths of an ailing body.

Before you could decide to check if his office was indeed empty, the package caught your eye. The return address was a P.O. Box, absent of a name of whom it belonged to. Strange. It was also addressed directly to you, no formal title preceding it, as was often the case with promotional packages. You didn’t get too many delivers in this manner that weren’t of the router or legal envelopes variety. Grabbing a pair of scissors from your desk, you cut the tape and pulled back the cardboard flaps.

And then you screamed.

The box fell from your hands as Jun came running back into the room.

“Ma’am, what happened?” he asked frantically. With a trembling hand, you pointed to the package that was now spilling out all over your carpet.

Old magazine clippings covered in red smears - smears that were obviously made of blood.

“Don’t touch anything,” Jun swallowed thickly as he backed you away. “I’ll call the police and have security review who dropped it off.”

You nodded, unable to voice anything, too paralyzed by fear. Because this was no ordinary threat. This had nothing to do with who you were today. You knew those clippings, those old articles that you hadn’t thought about in years. That part of your life had long been behind you. The only remnant of it was the rare “Where are they now?” tabloid entry that no one read. So why had someone done this? Why now?

No.

No, no, no, no, and no.

There was no way you were going to agree to this. Your life was exactly the way you wanted it to be and you didn’t need some over muscled buffoon messing it all up. In your opinion, you should let the detectives do their work while you let this creep know that you weren’t scared of him. The initial shock of the first package had worn off and now you were just pissed.

“I don’t think that this is necessary. At all.” You were determined to with this argument as you sat across from your father in his living room. His face was scrunched with worry and dark circles pulled at the skin underneath his eyes. When he called you over to your childhood home, you thought he was simply going to give you an update on the police investigation into your stalker.

Hah.

Instead he had a bomb to drop on you – no pun intended. His idea of keeping you safe with this stalker on the loose. If it had just been the one package, you would have had a stronger argument. But the phone calls started two days later. No words were spoken, just heavy breathing. You couldn’t even get a creative psychopath.

“I will not lose my only child,” your father insisted.

“I can take care of myself,” you said. “Increase security in the main lobby and start screening all packages that come in. We don’t need to go to extremes.”

Your father was much better at presenting counter arguments. “What if the stalker manages to get through the front lobby? Or if the mail comes to your home next time? Or if he approaches you at a restaurant or the park? Distanced security will only go so far. I need someone who will be there in a split second if something were to happen.”

“Father, please, do not stick some stuck up, full-of-himself babysitter on me at all times.”

“A babysitter is meant for children, and from what I see, you’re a grown woman in trouble.”

In the doorway leading from the main hallway to the living room stood three very different, yet very imposing men in tailored black suits. The one who spoke stepped forward. His black hair was parted on the side, curling slightly over his forehead. Two little dots sat below his left eyebrow. He possessed a fierce sharp face that had the ability to look… bored, almost. The others that flanked either side were complete opposites: one short with light brown hair and a stocky build, the other tall with platinum hair and a lankier frame. Not exactly the run-of-the-mill bodyguards. Were these the ones that would be stuck with you all day and night?

“Ah, Jaebeom,” your father greeted as he stood from his spot on the couch opposite of where you stood. Walking around, he shook this Jaebeom’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank you for coming. Your agency came highly recommended.”

Jaebeom placed his hand against his chest, bowing gratefully. “We’ve worked hard to gain our reputation.”

“And will one of you three be guarding my daughter?”

“Only in the areas where extra protection is needed,” Jaebeom said. “Given the gravity of the situation, I’m putting my best man on this.”

Crossing your arms, you felt like the child who got caught with their Halloween candy under the bed and now the parents were talking about what punishment to deal out. “And who would that be?”

“Park Jinyoung,” the silver haired one smirked.

“He’s finishing up another assignment at the moment, so he couldn’t be with us today,” Jaebeom said.

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of assignment?”

“A short term one.”

A bit cryptic, but you were smart enough to know when a battle wasn’t worth fighting. Whatever this Park Jinyoung was doing before he would stick to you like flypaper, it was none of your business. A small little prayer that his assignment would take longer than expected and wouldn’t show up at all was cited in your head. Pointless. Surely, Jaebeom would just insert another guard until “his best man” was available again. Your father would insist.

“I thank you for your attentiveness on this.” For the first time in weeks, the tension in your father’s shoulders released. Guilt twisted at your stomach. Though you were sure that, with a little bit of time, this stalker would get bored and move on, your father’s worry was unsurmountable.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Turning away from the others, your arms moved from a defensive position to one where you were holding yourself together. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not now that you were the boss, now that you were behind the scenes, away from the red-carpet premieres and flashing bulbs that burned your retinas. You had a grip on all aspects of your life. Your apartment was decorated the way you wanted, not your mother. You made final decisions for the company. That package was snatching the control of your life from your hands.

“Hey.”

You turned your head to glance over your shoulder. The stockier bodyguard had approached you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. A sympathetic expression softened the sharper features of his face. He could be intimidating, with his broad shoulders yet lithe build shown off by the tailored suit.

“Jinyoung really is the best among us,” he said. “He’ll make sure you’re safe and I wouldn’t be surprised if he caught this guy in the meantime.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you sighed as you turned around fully, “but it's not the stalker that I’m worried about. I like my privacy, my life the way it is now. With a guard following me around all day, word about this will get out. And then the paparazzi will be back on me like clumps of sticky rice.” They wouldn’t be able to resist a story like this.

“I know it sucks, but it won’t be forever.”

You nodded, but more in acknowledgment that he had spoken rather than in agreement. It was easy enough to say that something would end; everything does. But what you wanted was to be able to physically be close to the end. You wanted to see it, reach out and graze it with the tips of your fingers. But there was no light in this tunnel. If you ever met this stalker, you would make sure that at least one of you ended up in the hospital.

“Jackson,” Jaebeom called out, catching both of your attentions. The leader motioned out the door with his head. “Let’s go.” He turned back to your father. “We’ll make another round at the office, get to know your security there, and create a rotation that will cover the area sufficiently.”

“I thank you again for all your work. I look forward to meeting this Park Jinyoung.”

“He should arrive by tomorrow evening. If something holds him up, we’ll contact you.”

Your father shook his hand before the three bodyguards left. When it was just the two of you again, you leaned up against the wall and let out a rather unseemly raspberry between your lips.

“Please, don’t be like that,” your father begged. “I’m only trying to do what I think is best to protect you.”

“I know, I know,” you said, exasperated. “I just… I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

Your father chuckled. “If I remember correctly, you enjoyed your bodyguards back then.”

“Because I was stupid and it made me feel important.” Very important, indeed. Not just anyone had big burly men surrounding them as they walked through airport to get to the blacked-out van waiting for you in the car park. They were the ones who kept the photographers and overzealous fans at bay. When you were young, you looked at those pictures where you were wearing sunglasses to block out the flashing and thought you were one of the coolest people in the world. Now the very thought of that situation made you feel pity – whether it was old pictures of yourself or newer one of the latest generation of young stars. There was nothing to envy. Not when all you wanted was to be able to walk through the airport and make it to your flight without worrying around being crowded or pulled at or hear the constant screaming. And you weren’t even a heartthrob popstar. You’d dated a few, though.

“Well, things are different now,” you father said in an attempt to be comforting. “and I spoke to others who had used Lim Jaebeom’s services and they said it was like his men were hardly even there.”

It took a lot of self-control to bite down and keep your tongue from spouting off. Because it didn’t matter how invisible the guards felt to the others – they were probably used to treating employees like they didn’t exist. You were not going to be able to do that. You were going to be too hyperaware of the extra presence in your life. Like a shadow creeping behind you down a dark alley. Always there in the corner of your eye, lurking and waiting.

“I should probably be getting home,” you said.

Your father nodded in agreement. “I’ll have Seonjo see you there.”

“Father, I-” One quick, stern look cut off any argument. “Yes, sir.” So much for being a grown woman.

Seonjo was one of your father’s own security. He was loyal to the family, your father most of all. He once sent a disgruntled employee to the hospital for trying to harm your father. He never directly admitted to having a license to kill, but you wouldn’t be surprised. As a child, he’d intimidated you. One time, he caught you trying to sneak out through the back kitchen door past midnight so you could go hang out with your friends. You thought that being thrown over someone’s shoulder was a stunt you would only have to perform in front of a camera. Needless to say, you didn’t try that again.

Out front, Seonjo was already leaning up against your car, waiting for you to unlock the doors. You didn’t fight him on who got to drive. You simply pulled your keys out and tossed them to the bodyguard before jumping into the passenger’s seat.

“How do you plan on get home?” you asked once you were down the road a ways.

“Rideshares are very common, you know,” Seonjo snorted. He’d become more playful as you’d gotten older. Your only guess as to why was perhaps he wasn’t very comfortable around children. Those little creatures were even more unpredictable than adults and from you had observed, Seonjo liked things… quiet. And orderly. Kids tended to be neither.

“But wouldn’t that break protocol?”

“They won’t enter the property,” Seonjo countered. “I’ll have them drop me off a little down the road and walk the rest of the way.”

“Always the man with a plan,” you laughed.

“That’s the job,” he replied with a smile.

Safe and sound in your own apartment, Seonjo bid you a goodnight and headed down the elevator to meet his rideshare driver down on the sidewalk. You were a bit surprised that he wasn’t staying the night to watch over you, but you were thankful. One last night of freedom in your own home before the lion came a’ prowling. It didn’t feel fair at all. But it just goes to show that the past never stays asleep for long.

“So, wait, let me get this straight: you… are… complaining at the fact that a man has to protect you and keep you safe from your crazy, maniacal stalker?”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend, knowing that you should have been prepared for this.

Dan had been by your side since the two of you costarred in a short-lived comedy series about high school students. Not that either of you were that sad about its less-than-a-season lifespan. Right after that, you snagged the lead in the show was the defining role of your acting life and Dan was able to move on to create his own fashion line. You couldn’t say what your other costars were up to now, but Dan was always – and would always be – a constant in your life.

“Its not that serious,” you said again as you leaned forward on your desk. Dan had come to your office to have dinner with you since he was sure that it wasn’t safe for you to eat out in the open in a crowded restaurant. You know, where witnesses were present.

“See, you keep saying that, but I’m not sure if you’re aware of the actual definition of serious.” Dan folded his hands and pulled up on his knee as he crossed his legs. “The phone callss might be passable, but the package of pig’s blood with old magazine articles about you isn’t as easily overlooked.”

“I get it. I really do. But I like how my life is right now. I don’t want to think about that pompous brat of an actress I was.”

“Okay, first of all,” Dan held up a finger, “you weren’t that bad because I never would have been your friend if you were.” Now a second finger. “Second of all, you can’t control other people, honey. I don’t know why they’re suddenly fixated on you after nearly eight years, but they are. And you have to deal with it.” A cheeky look came across his face as he lifted his glass of wine to his lips. “Besides, you never know. Maybe this Park guy will be handsome and the two of you will fall in love while he protects you from the axe wielding maniac.”

You gave him your best deadpan look. “You’ve watched The Bodyguard too many times.”

“Whitney Houston is an icon. She created one of the greatest ballads of all time with that movie.”

“Actually, the song was originally written by Dolly Parton.”

Dan jumped at the third voice, nearly spilling his wine. Thankfully, the liquid didn’t leave the glass, and he was wearing black pants anyway.

Standing in your open doorway was a man in a sharp black suit with a simple cut. It was the causal kind, like your father never wore. Hair almost as dark as the suit was parted on the side and slicked back away from his forehead. The smallest of smirks rested in the corner of his mouth, giving a little bit of light to his otherwise serious expression.

Surprised that he finally showed up after waiting all day, you stood to your feet and walked over to your new bodyguard. You held out your hand for him to take. It was a strong grip, but not so much so that it was intimidating. He kept eye contact with you, but in a way that was creepy or uncomfortable. “Hi. I’m (y/n).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). My name is Park Jinyoung. Jaebeom already informed you that I was assigned to watch over you until this stalker is caught.”

“Yes, he did.”

Dan hopped up from his seat and came to stand beside you. With his own hand stretched out, he took the liberty of introducing himself. “Hi, I’m Daniel Larken. The fashion designer? You might have heard of me.”

Jinyoung shook his hand, obviously amused by the forwardness. “The one with the reflective suits?”

“It’s actually a shimmer sewn in with the thread,” Dan corrected.

“Ah,” Jinyoung nodded. “Good work.”

“Thank you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered back and forth between you and Dan, smirking. He was enjoying this. Well, at least one of you would be. And now that Dan was fully onboard, there was no one left to stand by you. It was official. You were stuck with this Park Jinyoung. As long as he agreed to stay out of your way and not completely upend your life, then this shouldn’t be too bad of an arrangement.

With a brewing smile of his own, Dan turned to you. “I want one.”

You crossed your arms sternly. “No.”

#got7 #got7 bodyguard au #got7 bodyguard!au #jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung #got7 series #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #lim jaebeom #jackson wang #kim yugyeom #bambam #choi youngjae #mark tuan #Bottom of the Glass

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terrm9 · 4 years

Text

Lost

Ethan X Sienna - friendship/mentorship (also mentions of Ethan X MC and Sienna X Danny)

This takes place somewhere through Chapter 18 and the time jump

Warnings: angst, mention of character death, trauma, sexist remark (1)

Words count: 1 700

So I had this idea in my head for a while now and now I decided to write it for two main reasons: 1) I can be okay with the time jump and absence of a date night and pretty much everything EXCEPT the fact that everyone ignores Sienna’s feelings ever since the accident. I mean, we get to help Jackie, we get to help Aurora BUT no diamond scene to help OUR BEST FRIEND Sienna, who lost her dear one? (And I don’t care that they were just ‘almost’ something. I have been an almost something with my now husband for a whole year before we started dating officialy and I would die if something happened to him in that year.

2) I really like to see Ethan as a good mentor. Not just to MC because he has ‘soft spot’ for her. As much as Ethan is irritated with interns and pretty much everyone, I believe that he has it in him to be a good mentor when some of his residents need help

I wrote this for myself actually but I hope someone else might enjoy it too

------- LOST ----------

It was Ethan’s sixth hour of working and, as fulfilling as working at the free clinic was, he was exhausted. Walking through the corridor towards his old office, all he wanted was to have a cup of hot coffee, ten minutes of peace and if he was lucky enough, maybe a moment alone with Chiara.

He missed her. As a mentor, he couldn’t be prouder of how she adjusted to the new situation and how dedicated she was to do as much as she could before Edenbrook’s closing. As a partner, he just wanted to have a nice free weekend with her filled with talking about everything and nothing, cooking for her, watching House, which she loved and he hated, and having undue amount of sex.

Turning around the corner, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed Dr. Trinh storming off one of the patient’s rooms and nearly running into nearest supply closet. He sighed, the scene becoming all too familiar and took a look into the room she just left. An older man was sitting on a bed, gesticulating wildly as he spoke to someone on the phone.

After evaluating situation, Ethan decided to leave the patient alone and follow Sienna into the supply closet instead. However, before he could do so, the door of the closet opened again and without as much as glancing into his direction, Sienna – with her eyes red and puffy, cheeks wet with tears and lips trembling – walked away.

This needs to stop.

He straightened his posture and followed her tracks, finding her at the nurses’ station, talking to Chiara in quiet voice.

Approaching them, he cleared his throat and as both younger doctors raised their heads at the sound, he spoke, his voice firm.

“Dr. Trinh, a word in my office, please.”

Sienna’s eyes widened and she muttered to Chiara: “He is going to kill me. Oh, he is going to chew me out.”

Well, my ex-office. Not that it really matters.

Chiara’s brows furrowed, her eyes travelling from her best friend’s face to the one of her boyfriend. Sure, Ethan was still their attending, but he actually liked Sienna. He wouldn’t chew her out, would he?

Then she realized that when she screwed up, Ethan would give her a hard time, no matter the fact that he would take her for a dinner after that.

“Should I go with you?” she whispered to Sienna, worried about the scene that was about to happen.

Sienna smiled sadly and shook her head, already following Ethan’s steps.

He was already standing behind his desk when she came in, his expression unreadable.

“Take a seat, Dr. Trinh,” he gestured towards a chair, not taking a seat himself, however.

Sienna sat down, her head hanging low, waiting for the outburst.

“I was about to make myself a cup of coffee. Can I offer you one?” Ethan asked quietly.

She lifted her head up abruptly, not believing the words she just heard and nodded quickly, before Dr. Ramsey would change his mind.

“Is this about me leaving a patient and crying in a supply closet, Dr. Ramsey?” she asked with voice so quiet it could have been a whisper, as he handed her a mug.

“Yes. This is the fifth or sixth time I have seen you walking in or out of a supply closet, crying, Dr. Trinh and I am speaking of a period of last three weeks maybe. What is going on? You know this cannot go on like this anymore.”

Sienna put the mug on a desk and started to play with the hem of her white coat, hoping that Ethan wouldn’t notice the tears streaming down her face again.

“I am sorry, Dr. Ramsey. I know my behavior hasn’t been professional and that leaving a patient like that is unacceptable and I promise to do my best to avoid such situations in the future.”

Ethan sighed, leaning into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he observed the obviously broken form of a tiny doctor in front of him. He avoided these situations as much as he could – Naveen was the one to confront while also comforting. Ethan was the bad cop, always.

But Naveen wasn’t here and Sienna needed a good mentor, badly.

“I asked what is going on. I know you are a professional, Dr. Trinh, so I need an explanation of the situation.”

Sienna was openly crying now, all the awful thoughts running through her head.

“It’s just… this patient, he was so, so rude to me. He walked into free clinic and I knew he needed to be admitted so I’ve had a nurse admit him and as soon as I could, I went to his room to do the tests and all the time, he was telling me to fuck off – he literally used these words – and asked me to get him a real doctor and that I was just a child pretending to know what I am doing and that he would never let me do as much as draw his blood,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her white coat.

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a nice white cotton handkerchief, handing it to her without saying a word. She nodded thankfully, acknowledging the gesture and after a while decided to go on.

“And you know. Dr. Ramsey, this is not an unknown situation to me. Because I am so tiny and smiling all the time, the patients tend to question my abilities as a doctor. Men, mostly. Sometimes, they have these terrible sexist remarks, I remember one patient telling me that I could take his pain away with my pretty little hands,” she blinked rapidly several times, fighting the tears of disgust.

“I am used to these situations and I believed I could handle them well. The thing is, every time I have had a patient like this and I felt uncomfortable or even unsafe, I would just page Danny with our secret code and he would storm into the room with his ‘badass nurse’ face on and usually that would work. These men respected him more than me, because he was a man too, you know? And I felt safe when he was there with me. But now,” she covered her mouth with her hand as a terrible, broken sound left her, her whole body shaking with sobs.

Ethan stood up from his chair and walked past the desk to kneel down next to her, putting his reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Now he is gone and every time I deal with a patient that is rude, I am hit with the fact that I will never get to see his badass nurse face again. And I know I should be happy. I should be happy about Chiara being okay and Rafael being okay, and I am, oh God I am so thankful that they are here, alive and well, but still it hurts like hell, not having Danny around. It has been months and I still feel like I can’t breathe every single time I pass that room. And I keep screwing up, again and again. I screwed up with my intern and now he is gone. I screw up with my friends and with my patients and I am trying so hard to go on with my life, because all of my friends can do that, even Chiara can do that, but it’s just all too much now, you know? I just wish I could leave this city for some time and just… do something entirely else for a while. Be someone else.”

Ethan kept staring at Sienna for a long time, realizing for the first time, how much the accident has affected her.

He wouldn’t get through losing Chiara, if she didn’t make it that day. He would rather die with her and it didn’t matter that at the time of the accident, they weren’t official.

So what was the difference with Sienna and Danny? Did it matter that they weren’t official, if they cared about each other deeply?

He stood up again and grabbed his coffee, intending to finish it before they would have to leave his office to work again. There was an idea playing in his head and by pretending to savour every sip of his beverage, he was gaining himself some time to compose the proposition in his head.

Sienna, too, decided to finish the coffee, preparing herself to go back to the room 421 to draw the damn blood.

“You probably haven’t heard about it, Dr. Trinh,” Ethan finally broke the silence that was becoming a little bit too uncomfortable. “But there’s this thing… Dr. Mirani, I mean Baz Mirani, is leaving to Philippines after Edenbrook is closed. He will go with Doctors Without Borders for six months to help at Calicoan Island. If you could see this as an opportunity for you, I could be able to arrange for you to join him as his protégé. Don’t feel pressured into this, please, but knowing Baz, he would be happy for your company and it could help you after all. I am now speaking from personal experience.”

“Your little trip to Amazon, huh?” Sienna couldn’t help but smile a little.

Ethan simply nodded, finishing his coffee. There was no point in telling her that in his case, leaving to Amazon didn’t help his problems at all.

“I will think about it. Thank you, Dr. Ramsey. I should go to see Mr. Lowes, I still need to draw his blood.”

Ethan nodded and grabbed his white coat. “I’ll go with you.”

If Sienna was surprised, she did a good job at hiding it. She just smiled thankfully, the first genuine smile that day.

“And for what it’s worth, if you ever find yourself feeling uncomfortable or unsafe with a patient, you can always page me.”

There was another kind of tears now threating to fall from Sienna’s eyes as he said that. She gulped visibly but instead of thanking him again, she said: “Chiara is really lucky to have you, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan smiled at her with the soft, gentle smile she has never thought could be addressed for someone else as Chiara.

“She is also incredibly lucky to have you, Sienna.”

#ethan ramsey #sienna trinh #baz mirani #open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #trauma

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smileyjaeminies · 4 years

Text

To make an escape

Synopsis: All it takes for Taeyong to snap, is you getting hurt. Will you find a way to finally walk away from your dangerous lifestyle?

Word Count: 5.3 k

Genre: mafia au

Warnings: mentions of blood, fighting, shooting, major character death

Member: Taeyong ft various other nct members

A/N: Happy Halloween! I tried to do something special for the occasion, so here goes! It’s my first try at writing something a bit more intense, so I hope you guys like it!!

The first thing you knew, was pain. Intense, unbearable, all-consuming. It drove you mad, it numbed your brain and all your senses. And it was everywhere. You couldn’t even begin to locate where it began, for it had spread all over your body, leaving you limp and hopeless.

Your ears were ringing, your head was heavy. If you could form a coherent thought it would have been one simple word: why? Why all the pain? In the midst of it all, you realized there were voices screaming over you. The ringing in your ears didn’t allow you to tell them apart, but you managed to tear your eyes open. Your vision was blurry, and you could only make out the form of a man hovering over you.

He placed some pressure on your wound and you screamed out, even though you thought you couldn’t. He spared one glance at you, focusing on his task. Could it be Taeyong? No. Tae would never hurt you. He wouldn’t make you hurt like this.

Taeyong would kiss you and make the world disappear. He’d cage you in his arms and keep you safe. He’d always have your back and he would always make sure you were okay. Funny isn’t it? How the only sane thoughts in midst of your torture would be about Taeyong? Then again, he was always the only thing that made sense.

When they tried to lift you, you mercifully dipped back into oblivion. You gained consciousness what felt like mere seconds later, to the pain having subsided the tiniest bit. It wasn’t blinding, but it felt like it would swallow you whole in mere minutes. All you could hope, was for it to go away.

Your eyes opened and you found Doyoung standing over you. You wanted to smile. If Doyoung was there, everything would be alright. He’d fix you right up. Right?

“Taeyong I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this. If it’s hit a vital organ-” he said.

“Well try, god dammit! Does it look like we have a choice?” Taeyong screamed.

His voice echoed through the small room, and if you could flinch, you would have. Darkness was lurking close, too close for it not to be tempting. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let yourself float.

The last time you pried your eyes open, it was with much effort. The pain wasn’t gone like you hoped. Like some kind of sick joke, it stayed there, a heavy thing laying over your stomach. Your eyelids were heavy too, the mere act of opening your eyes becoming a struggle.

The lights blinded you at first, but you got used to it with a few blinks. Your head fell to the side, where Doyoung was sitting, with his head in his hands. He had drawn up a chair to sit close to you, and with a simple move, your hand would be on his head.

But that mere action seemed impossible. You were parched, your mouth completely dry. Your head was spinning a little and you almost felt nauseous. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and compose yourself.

Doyoung looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and you couldn’t help but smile. His eyes widened and he shot up from his seat, making his chair fall behind him. The loud noise made your eyes close tightly as Doyoung checked your vitals. Finally content with your state, he sat next to you on the bed, his eyes scanning your face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m a little thirsty” you replied.

Doyoung nodded, quickly helping you drink some water. You tried to use the water to ground yourself. You didn’t want to go back to sleep just yet.

“You’re going to be fine. The bullet didn’t hit any vital organs. I was able to go around…” Doyoung went on, explaining the procedure to you.

You waited for him to finish, using all the patience you had left. When you made sure he was done, you spoke up.

“Is he… Is he here?” you asked, testing the waters.

Doyoung avoided your gaze. He seemed to think carefully before answering,

“He’s upstairs. Locked in his office. I told him your surgery went well and even then, he didn’t come out”

Classic Taeyong. That was the answer you were expecting. And yet, you couldn’t help but hope…

“Y/N… What happened?” Doyoung asked you.

A kaleidoscope of images flashed before your eyes. The hitman, you running behind him. Glass breaking, shots firing everywhere around you. And then the pain. You tried to shake the images away, bring yourself back to the small room with Doyoung.

“I… It wasn’t as easy as we thought. Did he get away?” you asked.

Doyoung shook his head and a sigh of relief escaped from your lips. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you had failed this miserably.

“He’s downstairs with Yuta. You know how it is” he told you.

You did know. You knew Yuta, the sweet-smiled boy who turned ballistic every time someone came for one of your family. It was almost heartwarming, the lengths he’d go to protect one of his own. But there was nothing heartwarming at Yuta’s work.

You buried the thought somewhere far away in your brain. There would be time to think about that later.

“How long? How long do I have to stay like this?” you asked the man.

“A couple of days. A week… I don’t know. I can’t say for certain” he answered you.

A week. Okay. You’d manage a week in bed. It wouldn’t drive you mad, no, you wouldn’t allow it to. You could do this.

“Doyoung. I want to see him” you said.

Doyoung’s eyes peered into yours and you tried to answer his stare with as much determination as you could manage. Your heart went out to the man, a man you loved and cared for. Despite the harshness of your jobs, you and Doyoung were as close as your situation allowed you to be, and that was something remarkable in itself.

“I’ll go get him. But Y/N…” he was saying when you cut him off.

“I know. ‘Don’t let him get to you.’ I won’t.” you reassured him.

Doyoung gave you a half smile. If you were better, you would have given him a loving shove. But you weren’t. He gave a small squeeze at your hands before getting up and walking towards the door. Halfway there he stopped in his tracks, turning around quickly as if he had remembered something.

“There’s another thing. Ten… He’s outside. He hasn’t left since they brought you here… He’s in every way not okay. Should I..?” he let his voice trail off.

Your partner, Ten. Ten, who was supposed to have your back. Ten, with whom you were the most fun team. Ten, who had seen you kill, who had helped you exploit weak men’s sexual desires, who you had killed with, who you trusted.

Ten, who hadn’t covered for you. Ten, who wasn’t there to see you fall. Ten, who was the reason you were on this bed. Ten.

“Tell him to come inside” you said.

Doyoung nodded, resuming his way towards the door. It took only a few moments for the door to open again, this time to reveal Ten. With one glance, only a few people would have guessed how distressed the man was. Luckily, you were one of those people.

His hair was a mess, not styled in perfection as usual but messy, as if he had let them dry on their own. There was a cut right under his eye and though you could tell it wasn’t deep, the injury was enough to distress you. He was dressed in simple jeans and a black T-shirt and as he walked towards you, you knew something was terribly wrong.

His eyes were trained to the ground as he came to stand on the foot of the bed you were laying on. You could tell that looking up to you was a struggle for the man and when his eyes met yours you knew, you didn’t have it in you to be mad.

If a look could speak, Ten would be apologizing a hundred times over. There was nothing of the playful glint you knew, only seriousness and regret.

“I’m so sorry” he apologized.

“I know, Ten. I know” you told him.

“I should’ve been there. But at the club- I saw the pimp Jaehyun was out for last month and I couldn’t help myself. I got distracted when I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry” he tried to explain.

The pimp… You thought he’d left town…. The new information made you dizzy, your mind screaming at you to take it easy. You closed your eyes, falling back to the pillows behind you.

“Did you get him?” you asked in a low voice, eyes peering open just a little.

Ten couldn’t hide his smile. He was clearly proud of himself and though the sadistic smile should’ve made you anxious, it only made you glad.

“You know I did” Ten stated simply.

You nodded at his words, because you did know. Ten had a perfect record, was the perfect killer and it was exactly the reason you worked so well together.

“Next time, you’re going to be lying here. Or 6 feet under.” You warned.

You expected Ten’s smile, but you didn’t expect how at ease it helped you feel.

“I’m never leaving you behind. Never again.” He promised.

“You better” you warned once again.

You had to fight the pout that threatened to appear on your face, but you hid it well. Ten was about to say something when the door burst open to reveal Taeyong.

“Well isn’t this charming?” he asked, feigning a sweet tone.

“Taeyong…” you said, his name falling effortlessly from your lips.

He didn’t even look at you, he barely had as he walked into the room. You could see Doyoung hovering at the door, but even he couldn’t help you now.

“Don’t.” he snapped at you, still not giving you even a single look. “You, out.” He ordered, pointing at Ten and then at the door.

Ten shot you a shaky smile before quietly following the older man’s instructions and disappearing behind the closed door. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to follow.

The outburst you were expecting never came. Taeyong took a few calculated strides and buried himself in the armchair next to your bed. He ran his hands over his face and his hair, clearly distraught. You wanted nothing more than to put your arms around him.

You raked your brain for words, for something to say to him. Only a few minutes before you had wanted nothing more than to see him and be with him, and now he was here…

“We could do it you know” he spoke up first.

His eyes were trained on the wall opposite him, an empty look on his face, but it was the tone of his voice that startled you. It was small, almost a whisper and he sounded… Tired. And defeated.

“Do what?” you asked.

“Run away” he stated simply.

He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you could just walk out of the door the next minute and that would be all. As if you had a choice.

“You know we can’t” you answered him.

“That’s not true. You and I? We could do anything. Even walk out of this right now. We could find a small, secluded cottage. We could make a life there. A peaceful life. Just you and I” he said.

He was serious when he said it, so serious it almost scared you. And the worst thing was, you had thought about this too. Hell, you had even dreamed about it. Leading a peaceful life with Taeyong, somewhere away from the mess you were in, away from this cursed city.

But that’s all it would be. A dream. A peaceful life was not meant for people like you and Taeyong.

“You know we can’t.” you repeated.

At that moment, Taeyong finally turned to look at you. You braced yourself for the weight of his stare, staying completely still as his eyes scanned your body. His eyes found yours again, only to stare at you intensely, his eyes peering in to yours. As much as you were tired, you knew you couldn’t bear to miss this. So you stared right back, with whatever you could manage in your state. You tried to show him that there was nothing you wanted more than to run away with him. But you were running out of time.

He looked away first, and you sighed, your eyes closing and your body relaxing against your pillows. You could only hope he understood.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You scoffed, biting your bottom lip as you weighed your answer in your head.

“Well I’m not dead. And the asshole is with Yuta. So I’d say I’m good. I’m not looking forward to a week in bed though.” You told him, your gaze trained at your fingers.

“A week? Only a week? I don’t think I’ll be giving you missions for at least a month” he said.

Your head shot up, to find Taeyong already staring at you. Your head started throbbing, but there was no time to take care of it.

“A month? What about Ten? And what am I supposed to do for a month? You can’t-” you were saying, when his loud voice cut through yours.

“I can and I will. Remember who is in charge here, Y/N” he warned, getting up from his seat.

“As if I could ever forget.” You spat at him.

Silence reigned over the room as you took a few breaths to calm yourself. Before Taeyong could say anything, you spoke up,

“I think I’m going to go back to sleep now. Please leave”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as you asked him to leave, the thought of shoving him away more painful than any other. He wordlessly collected himself before moving to stand next to you on the bed.

“Move over” he asked.

You knew what was happening, and you let it happen. Because after all, you didn’t really want him to go away. So you scooted over and Taeyong pulled his shoes off, lying next to you on the small bed.

“Hi” he murmured against your hair.

You only hummed in response, feeling the headache forming under your skull. Laying your head against his chest, you felt his erratic heartbeat underneath the light fabric of his shirt.

“Your heart’s beating so fast” you said in a low voice, careful not to shatter the ambiance of the room.

“It always does when I’m with you. Don’t you know that?” he asked.

You left his question unanswered, opting to simply close your eyes.

It felt so right. Laying there with him, his arms around you, protecting you from harm. His breath against your hair, the rhythmic movement of his chest, his heartbreak under your ear. So why was it that you always fought? Why was it that it hurt?

“I can’t stand seeing you hurt.” he stated simply.

“I know. Because I feel the same way too” you told him.

“I almost killed Ten. Did he tell you that? I gave him that scar on his face” he confessed.

You sat up, turning to face him.

“You hit one of your own? Taeyong…” you let your voice trail off.

“You don’t know what it’s like. To see you lied down like that… And the blood… And then Doyoung said he didn’t know if he… I lost it Y/N. I know it’s wrong but… I don’t think I could ever live without you.” He confessed.

You looked at him, the man who held your heart in his hands, who had all the responsibilities in the world, who made hard decisions without looking back. The man who crumbled in front of you, who stripped himself of his walls for you, who gave you his heart to hold.

There was nothing to be said. Nothing you could say to turn back time or ease his pain. So you did the only thing that felt right and connected your lips to his.

His breath caught at his throat, his hands cupping your face instinctively. You kissed him with everything you had, pouring out your love into the kiss as he did the same, your mouths moving together.

He broke the kiss, connecting your foreheads and trying to catch his breath. You left a trail of kisses across his jaw and neck nestling your head there and breathing him in.

A sudden laugh broke out from you, which made him give you a questioning look.

“It’s nothing just… I never took you for a cottage core kind of guy.” You said, erupting in another fit of giggles.

“Oh shut up” Taeyong said, squeezing your body tighter against his.

“Tae, no, it hurts” you whined.

Taeyong immediately rushed to apologize, sitting up to make sure you’re okay. You wanted to giggle despite everything, watching his distressed state too endearing.

“I’m alright. I just need some sleep” you told him.

“Then I should probably go” Taeyong said.

Just like that, the switch had been flipped. The sweet and loving Taeyong, your Taeyong, was to move over, be replaced by the sure and unyielding mafia leader the world- well, your world knew. You’d lost him.

“Why?” you asked.

“I need to go downstairs to see what Yuta is up to and you need to rest properly” he told you as he pulled his shoes on.

“Okay” you agreed.

So that was it. You had run out of time. Taeyong had to go back to leading and you had to remain here, stuck, alone and in pain. There was no use fighting and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t have it in you to fight. You had no strength to pull him back and tell him to stay.

Taeyong placed a kiss on the top of your head and helped you settle in your bed. You watched him walk out of the door, a bitter taste left in your mouth. Even though you thought you had settled in, it took a lot of tossing and turning before your eyelids got too heavy and sleep claimed you once more.

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The week in bed passed uneventfully with no one but Doyoung fretting over you. Even Ten was too busy with his assignments to keep you company and none of the others cared enough to come to visit. Taeyong would stop by as often as he could manage and you would have to pretend like everything was normal, push away the dark thoughts that were plaguing you.

Because, the truth was, what Taeyong told you the day you woke up had shaken you to the core. The worst thing was, it was true. No one else in your little ‘family’ would be able to just walk out without a target on their backs. Maybe Yuta could manage to get out of the country, but not much further. No, only you and Tae could just leave and get away with it.

And the more you thought about it, the more the idea seemed more and more alluring. Dropping everything here to get out, get away from this life, re-invent yourself, start over.

The question was, could you bear it? Would you be able to live a life stripped of the adrenaline, the discipline, the work, the killing? That unanswered query was the only thing holding you back. The only question left to answer before you made your escape.

Even from Taeyong? A small voice in the back of your head asked. Your eyes searched for the man in question almost in their own accord, finding the mere back of his head. He had resumed the seat next to your bed and you could see his leg moving up and down nervously. His eyes were trained on the TV, a nameless reporter talking of a shooting that took place the previous night. A shooting he had arranged, planned and executed. If it weren’t for his leg, you wouldn’t be able to note no other sign of distraught in the man.

“The investigations will continue on this matter and we hope that justice can be served soon. Back to you, Kathy” the reporter finished.

The screen turned dark with the click of a button as Taeyong ran a hand through his hair.

“Justice? That was justice you idiots!” he screamed. “I gave him justice when I pulled that trigger. But of course they don’t care about that. They don’t care about what he did”

“Tae… Calm down” you said carefully.

He was fragile, like a piece of porcelain. One wrong move and he’d be shattering on the tile floor. So you treaded carefully, your words soft and pleading, until the outburst passed and he became the man you knew, loved and trusted.

“They don’t understand. They never do. Things work different for us, don’t they get it?” he said, throwing himself on the foot of your bed.

“They don’t. And they never will. Because as you said, the world works differently for them. All you can do, is what you’ve always done. Do things your own way, and pray to whoever’s listening that it’s the right way” you said.

“And what if it isn’t?” he whispered.

“Then we pay. All of us” you answered.

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

Weeks passed, only helping your choice become clearer. It was time to go. It would be hard to travel with a wound like yours and you trusted no one but Doyoung to treat it. So you waited until you were fully healed, slowly and quietly making preparations.

You knew you couldn’t say good bye to any of them. Not with a letter or with a simple note. Then again, most of you knew that with each mission there was the risk of not coming back, so you hoped that your departure would be a little bit like that. A small taste of death.

Everything had to look simple, as if they were done on a whim. If Taeyong got even the smallest inkling that you had betrayed him, there would be nowhere for you to hide. Your clothes had to be left behind, for you would have to lay low and travel lightly for a while. You packed only the most essential of items, the ones that meant something.

Your laptop and phone where to be left behind too. You placed them neatly on the desk in your room. The note you left was simple and short. Two words that would prove to be enough.

“I’m sorry”

You placed your bags higher up on your shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you pondered your decision once more. Even here, at the nick of time, you were unsure. Could you really just get away from this?

Yes. You do. You have to. The voice inside you told you. So you did. The door of your small apartment closed behind you, as your mind came to terms with the thought of never seeing it again.

What a fool you were.

“You really thought it would be that simple?” a familiar voice asked behind you.

Cold sweat ran through your body, your breath hitching at your throat. You didn’t dare move and even if you wanted to, you were unsure you could. Your feet were stuck in place, the only movement you managed the small shake of your hands.

You could feel the cold metal of your gun on your back. It would take only a move for you to take it in your hands, load it and shoot. But could you do it?

While you were pondering your fate, the man came to stand behind you. He disarmed you easily and you didn’t fight it, only stood frozen as he whispered in your ear.

“Nervous now, are we? You know, he didn’t want to believe what I was telling him. He could never believe that you would abandon him. But I knew. I could always read you like an open book. Isn’t that right?” Jaehyun asked.

But how? How could he ever know? You had been so careful, not to make a single misstep.

“How did you…” you croaked out the words, your throat becoming dry.

“Oh I knew from the minute you were shot. After all, this was all a test. Why did you think Taeyong told you you should run away together? I convinced him to test you. And would you look at that… I was right. Again” Jaehyun said.

“Jaehyun…” you began.

His laugh and the shake of his head made you stop, the words dying at your lips. So that was it, huh?

“Don’t bother. They’re waiting for us at headquarters.” Jaehyun announced.

You gulped, breathing becoming increasingly more difficult. Jaehyun got tired of your stalling, dragging you to the elevator. It was not a pretty sight.

He threw you inside his car and you didn’t bother trying to make an escape. It was all lost now. The peaceful life you thought was only a few steps away, was now completely and utterly lost.

Jaehyun drove in silence, but at a crazy speed. You couldn’t help but think about opening the door and throwing yourself at the concrete. It would be a much better way to go.

However, you lost your chance, the car quickly coming into a stop inside the underground parking lot of the headquarters. Now, there was really nowhere for you to go. You knew your fate and you walked right into it.

Jaehyun opened a door on the third floor, to reveal the rest of your little family. Everyone was there, Taeyong and Doyoung in one corner, someone half hiding behind them. Yuta was lying on the couch next to Ten, waiting for the show to begin. Jungwoo, your ‘man in the desk’ was standing in the back, his arms crossed in front of him. Your family.

In the center of the room, there was a chair. You sat on it willingly, even placing your hands behind you so Jaehyun could handcuff you. You knew the drill. It had been done before.

You didn’t know where to look, so you just looked down, your hair falling to frame your face. You heard Doyoung whisper something, to which Taeyong simply scoffed. You raised your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person hiding behind the two men, but his back was turned to you.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’m bored” Yuta spoke up.

Everyone’s heads turned to his direction, which finally gave you the chance to see your mystery guest. As your eyes took in his side profile, your heart dropped in your chest. What was he doing in here?

“Mark…” your lips formed his name in nothing but a whisper.

Everyone was too busy arguing with Yuta to hear you. All but one. Jaehyun, who was still standing behind you, bend down to whisper in your ear.

“Oh that? Also a little gift from me. We couldn’t just miss a member like that… You know how this goes” Jaehyun mocked you.

You did know. Once a member leaves, their place has to be filled. In a ceremony much like this one, you were brought into the family. And now, it was Mark’s turn.

Mark, who brought you flowers and made you flower crowns. Mark, who still slept with a light on and was afraid of the dark. Mark, who you held in your arms when he was born and was the one person you said good bye to. Mark, whose hands shook when you told him you were leaving and that you didn’t expect to come back. Your little Markie, your baby brother.

Their conversation had died down, but your ears were still ringing. Your hands shook behind you, the only thing you wanted at the moment was to take Mark away from this awful place, to save him. You didn’t care what happened to you, the only thought in your mind being how to turn this around.

“Why? Why him?” you asked no one in particular.

“Because it would hurt you the most. Because it will send a message. Because it’s just how it goes” Jaehyun answered you.

“Jaehyun. Enough.” Doyoung stepped in.

Jaehyun was about to argue, when Taeyong raised his hand to stop him. He took a step towards you and it took all the self-control you had to keep yourself from crying. His eyes locked with yours and you could see the fire burning in them.

“You told me once that the day would come when all of us would pay for what we’ve done. Today is the day you pay. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Taeyong asked.

His voice was eerily steady. It shocked you how composed he looked, how sure. You cleared your throat, praying to anyone who was listening to keep your voice from breaking.

“No. Nothing at all. I failed the test and now I will pay the price” you stated.

Your eyes drifted from Taeyong’s to Mark’s. There was something about the way he was looking at you that broke your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You said to him.

“As you should be.” Jaehyun snapped at you. “Who wants to go first?”

You could hear the smile in his voice. It send a shiver down your spine, one you didn’t bother to contain.

“Mark, please” was the only thing you said.

“There’s no going back now sis. I’ll see you on the other side” Mark said.

As much as you wanted to keep yourself from crying, those words shook you to the core. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You closed your eyes, hoping that would stop the tears from falling, but you could feel them running down your cheeks.

“Just do it” you whispered.

“Since no one is volunteering, I’ll go first” Jaehyun said. “Any last words?”

Silence reigned over the room. Your eyes remained closed as you tried to choke down a sob. The first shot would be the worst one, you knew it. The gunshot echoed all around the room, making your ears ring. You cried out, for Jaehyun played dirty, shooting you right were your previous wound was.

Jungwoo stepped up, taking the gun off Jeahyun’s hands. Wordlessly, he pointed at your shoulder, his shot shaking you, almost dropping you off your chair. You felt the darkness come over you, inching closer and closer. Yuta’s shot found the upper part of your abdomen and with it, came oblivion.

But you weren’t dead yet. Ten’s shot was careless, shooting somewhere in your abdomen. Right after, he stormed out of the room, Jungwoo following hot on his heels. Doyoung took the gun with shaking hands, his shot missing your body. He turned to Taeyong, fearing his disappointment, his rage. But he didn’t find any.

Taeyong was hidden away behind his cold façade, no trace of emotion on his face. He stepped up, raising his hand to wordlessly ask for the weapon. Doyoung gave it to him, before storming out of the room, not bearing to look any more.

His hands weren’t shaking as they aimed at your heart. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was it still beating for him. He loaded the gun, his finger hovering over the trigger. Then, he thought of something.

“Why don’t you do it?” He asked the boy that was standing next to him.

He was like that once. Green, unskilled, a white canvas for someone to paint on. And he’d be sure to colour him black. Mark took a deep breath, glancing back and forth from the gun to his dying sister. He stepped up, taking the loaded gun into his hands and aiming.

“Bye bye Y/N” he whispered under his breath.

#nct scenarios #nct mafia au #taeyong scenarios #taeyong mafia au #nct angst

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