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babbushka · 4 years

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Happily Ever After (Part 1)

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

10k; Slow burn, strangers to lovers, hidden/secret identity, falling in love, first kiss; cw: Kidnapping, sword fighting, archery, near-death experiences

A/N: I originally was going to upload this as one big oneshot, but then I got carried away and it became too long. So here is part 1, part 2 will be coming tomorrow, which has a much darker tone/set of warnings, please keep that in mind! Thank you to everyone for voting on my 5k Follower celebration polls and allowing me to write this story! I truly couldn’t have done it without you :)

Available on AO3

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Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a magical kingdom known to all as Springs Valley. It was a peaceful and prosperous kingdom, nestled deep in the heart of a mountainous range. Though the villages were small, they were happy, for they were ruled by their beloved Queen and her husband, the Prince. The monarchs treated the villagers fairly, and justly, ruling with a kind yet firm fist from their castle, a grand building called the Purple Palace. And if there was one thing that the monarchs taught above all, it was that the power of goodness and love, would always triumph over evil.

This is the story of how one man fought against all odds to start anew, to find his heart, and earn his crown.

Of the many small villages that co-existed in Springs Valley, there was only one that could be considered the Capitol. It was called Pike Peak, and that is where our story begins. Pike Peak was nestled on the outskirts of the Purple Palace, so named due to the land surrounding it: vast waves of lavender which swayed like a tide in the breezes that traveled through the Valley. The fields stretched from the edge of the palace all the way to the village, and so no matter where one stood in Pike Peak, the castle was always in sight, its crystal walls glittering in the sunshine.

From his home high up in the mountains, just on the edge of the village, Philip Zimmerman awoke every morning to the rainbow beams of light that the sun bounced off of the crystal walls. A humble carpenter, these bright rainbows lured Philip out of bed each morning, and called him to begin his day toiling away in his workshop.

On one particular morning, Philip awoke with a thorn in his side. For over thirty years, he had lived and worked in this home, crafting all manner of things from wood. His father had owned this workshop for eighty-years, and his father had owned it for nearly as long prior. Though in life there were no certainties, one thing could be counted on: Philip was born a woodworker, and he would die a woodworker.

“Another day, another order.” Philip huffed to himself that morning, wishing he were doing something, anything, else with his time.

He wasn’t ashamed to be a carpenter – no of course not! He’s good at it, the best in the village they say. It’s an honor to be the best at something, Philip thought as he stretched and set some coffee atop the stove.

It’s just that…well…it sure would be nice to have someone to share that with, wouldn’t it? He’d never tell a soul, but often when Philip is hard at work assembling the orders that have been given, he lets his mind wander to another world, a different world, where he could be something other than just the man who fixes a wobbly table or loose wagon wheel. A world where he could be a Knight in shining armor, have a beautiful maiden to call his wife and keep warm at night.

He loved living in the village, of course he did. He loved the townspeople and the quaint living, the fresh bread traded for baking paddles carved by his own hand. But as Philip turned his gaze to the Purple Palace, glittering and shimmering in the distance, he had to believe that there was something more to life than this.

He had to, otherwise what was all this for?

And he didn’t know, but looking out through your window in that very same castle high above him, a certain someone was thinking the very same.

Though the walls were made of crystal, mystery shrouded the Purple Palace. No one from the village had ever been allowed inside, so naturally rumors spread across the Valley, of what could be hidden away. One such rumor was that of a Princess, cursed for all eternity to remain bound to the palace grounds. No one had ever even seen this Princess, but still, the rumors remained.

Little did the Valley know, but there was indeed a Princess, although she hardly ever felt like it. Never allowed beyond the boundaries of the East Wing, she spent her days keeping herself company, occupied with her books and her art and her music. It was music most of all which she loved, so much so that when she thought no one could hear her, she would sing in the early hours of morning. The King and Queen had told her it was for her own safety, that she would surely be kidnapped or held for ransom by the neighboring Kingdom – and so out of fear, inside the castle she remained.

It wasn’t so bad, she reasoned, living in the castle. She had all her needs tended to, anything she wanted was given to her. New beautiful dresses and shoes, books and instruments and the latest entertainments, whatever food she desired were all brought to her at the snap of her fingers -- but what she craved most of all, more than any delicious meal or fine gown, was love.

Love like that which existed in the books she read to pass the hours wasting away in her bedroom. True love, pure and sweet. So every morning she sang, her window open, hoping that one day someone might hear her, and she might find the love she was after.

But Philip did not know any of this. Shaking the daydreams out of his head and turning away from the palace, he began to busy himself with the day. He dressed in the clothing that his meager peasant’s salary could afford, and drank the black coffee he had brewed. Leaving his small kitchen to check the post, Philip braced himself for another slew of orders – and new orders there were.

Every day it seemed as though something new in the village needed mending, or replacing. He had come to expect the same requests day after day. However, what he had not braced himself for, what he could never in a million years have expected, was a thick envelope sealed with purple wax, stamped with the crest of the royal family, sitting on top of the pile of mail.

Rushing into the small house once more, Philip tore open the envelope and could scarcely believe what he was reading,

“Dear Mr. Zimmerman, we have heard the wonders of your skill and have decided to commission your talents to build a grand centerpiece for the upcoming harvest festival,” He read aloud to himself, his eyes growing wide with every word, “By royal decree, we invite you to the castle for a consultation.”

Philip took a moment to process the offer, eventually coming to the conclusion that could only be described as, holy shit.

Abandoning his tasks for the day, Philip at once set off towards the Purple Palace.

Though it was early in the day, the path to the palace was filled with villagers, going about their lives in the same orderly fashion as they always had, the very same that Philip did. Philip wondered if they had dreams of grandeur, or if it was only he who was going through this mid-life crisis.

“Good morning Mr. Zimmerman!” One portly fellow, the butcher, waved to him. “Thank you again for the cutting blocks you made me, they work like a damn charm!”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad to hear they are holding up.” Philip gave a friendly nod and waved back.

“Flip? Flip! Over here!” A young boy called to him as he passed through the village square, “Check out this new trick I learned!”

Out of nowhere, this child ran up to him and threw a large stick his way. Expertly, Philip caught it and began to at once deflect blow after blow from his young opponent’s stick. The young boy waved his around and around, acting as if it were the mightiest of swords.

Allowing the boy to overtake him and knock the stick out of his hands, Philip heartily laughed as he fell to the ground with a theatrical flair that had the child bursting into a fit of giggles. Philip tried not to allow himself to grow bitter over the years, never having any children of his own. The village children were good-natured and friendly, if a bit chaotic at times, and it always reminded Philip of what could have been.

“Very good, keep that up and one day you’ll be fighting for our crown.” Nevertheless, Philip always encouraged the children whenever he saw them, so he got up and with a ruffle of the boy’s hair, continued on his way.

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Glittering in the morning sunlight, the Palace was even more intimidating up close and personal. Guards standing by the door inspected him with raised eyebrows, but the moment he showed the seal on the envelope, the gates parted for him to pass through. As they opened, Philip hesitated – he had never been inside the palace before…no one had. He did not know what he was going to find, or what it would be like, but as the rainbows sparkled across the lavender fields, he knew there would only be one way to find out.

Every bit as magical as Philip had hoped, was the answer. He tried not to gawk at the mesmerizing architecture, seemingly clear and yet reflective all at once. Everything in the palace felt fragile and yet formidable, it was a disorienting experience. His disorientation only grew, as when he made his way through the entrance hall, he found none other than the King and Queen waiting for him atop their tall thrones. Philip knew what they looked like of course, their faces were on every piece of coinage and sent across the Valley by way of statue and tapestry, but much like the palace had seemed, up close they were intimidating.

At once, Philip bowed deeply, not wanting his first interaction with the monarchy to be his last.

“Mr. Zimmerman!” The King’s voice boomed loud and proud through the grand throne room, “How good of you to join us after all. We had hoped you would find our offer compelling.”

This friendliness was unexpected, and Philip, with great hesitation, stood back up to his full height. The King and Queen smiled at him, warm and welcoming.

“Yes your majesty, but I wonder, why me?” Philip had to ask, clutching the envelope in his too-large hands.

“Why not you?” The Queen challenged with a knowing smile, “It is no secret that you are the most talented carpenter in the Valley, and such talents do not go unnoticed by the crown.”

The praise brought a blush to Philip’s cheeks, and once again he averted his eyes. He wished his Ma were still here with him, if only she could have seen him now, being asked to make something for their monarchs.

“What would you like for me to build?” He wondered aloud, hoping it was not out of turn to be so direct with the royals.

“A wheelbarrow, one large enough to hold all the lavender for this year’s harvest.” The King did not seem deterred by his questioning, and had his answer ready to reply.

Philip’s eyebrows shot up at that notion, and through the crystal walls, he stared out into the sea of lavender just beyond. It seemed to stretch endlessly, for miles and miles all around. Philip had heard tales of the ocean but had never seen it himself – he imagined this was not dissimilar.

“That would be big indeed, I’m afraid I don’t think I would have the room to construct such a thing at my workshop.” Philip admitted, suddenly feeling ashamed at his own humble dwelling.

“You may live and work here for the duration of the build, if you so desire. I daresay that our workshop will be more than satisfactory.” The Queen offered at once, something that the carpenter had only ever dreamed about.

“It would be an honor, your majesties.” Philip agreed straight away, his hands already itching to begin carving and chipping and sanding away wood.

“Then we expect you to get started at once!” The Queen gave him a dismissing nod of her head, and he bowed deeply once more, before being escorted out of the throne room by palace aides, and down towards the East Wing.

And with that, Philip began constructing the largest and most impressive wheelbarrow that the Valley had ever seen.

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His routine was the same every day, for twenty days and twenty nights: in the early morning before the dawn, he would hike out into the forest to collect his wood. Chopping down only the most perfect of trees, Philip hauled logs and trunks across his shoulders back to the workshop, where he would use all the tools, space, and materials that the palace had to offer. He would not leave until very late at night, his hands cramped and body exhausted, but it was the most wonderful work he had done in a long time.

It was backbreaking work, especially for only one man, but every evening when he rested his head on the narrow bed in a small room just off the workshop, Philip fell asleep with pride in his chest. The singing helped, of course. Every morning, instead of awaking to rainbow beams of light shining through his window, he woke to the sweet song of a fair maiden. He did not know who she was, or even where she was, for the sound bounced around the crystal walls and made it appear as though she existed everywhere and nowhere.

Songs of longing, wordless melodies filled with a yearning for something which Philip had never been able to voice himself but that he could feel in his own soul, carried him through the day. It was a delight, a privilege to hear the music when it came, and a sorrowful emptiness when it finished.

Working by himself as he always had, alone in the workshop like he always was, he felt as though that maiden sang for him. He had grown so attached to the voice in fact, that when the wheelbarrow was complete and sent out to hold the year’s lavender harvest, Philip cast a yearning gaze up to the stars himself hoping that by some miracle, the maiden would reveal herself to him, and he could thank her for the beauty that was her voice.

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The festival began at sunrise, and though Philip was in good spirits, he found that he could not join in the immense excitement of those around him. Seemingly the entire town had awoken to celebrate; booths were constructed in the main square, and music and dancing were already underway.

In the center of it all, was the wheelbarrow, a structure larger than Pike Peak’s largest building. Standing nearly thirty feet tall and seemingly just as wide, it had been rolled out by palace guards and filled with lavender harvested from the fields, it truly was a sight to behold.

“Flip, it is marvelous.” The baker congratulated him, pulling him into a tight squeezing hug.

“How amazing, one of our own working for the King and Queen!” The cobbler stared at the magnificent sculpture in awe.

“Will they commission you again?” The blacksmith wondered aloud hopefully.

Of all these comments and questions, that one was the only thing that occupied Philip’s mind. Not for the prestige, or for the money, but to hear the voice of that fair maiden once again, to be able to work by the sound of her voice once more.

“That I cannot say, I hope to inquire about that when I receive my compensation tomorrow.” He replied, before sticking his hands in his pocket, and leaving the large gathering to go find a quiet place to smoke his pipe.

So lost in a daydream about the maiden was he, that he did not make it very far before someone collided with his firm chest at such a speed that she toppled onto the ground with a startled gasp.

“Oh shit!” The poor maiden groaned. Belatedly, Philip realized that she was holding a hot coffee fresh from one of the breakfast stalls, and immediately began to search and ensure that she had not been burned.

“Please forgive me!” Philip apologized at once, flustered in his own right, feeling like a fool and concerningly asking, “Are you injured?”

The maiden simply looked at him, and Philip felt as though all time and space came to a standstill. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld. Even with her torn and tattered hem and her dirty apron, Philip could feel the tides within him change.

“No, no I’m quite alright. I should have been watching where I was going, the fault is mine.” Dazed, the maiden seemed just as affected by Philip as he was of her, and he pulled her gently to her feet.

“I don’t think we’ve met before, are you new to the village?” His own voice sounded a thousand miles away to his ears, too captivated in the presence of such beauty.

“Hm? Oh! Yes,” She began to stammer, nervous about something. “I, um well you see I come from out of town. I heard there to be a large and impressive centerpiece for the festival, and I wanted to see it for myself.”

“You heard about the wheelbarrow?” He blinked, chest pounding.

“Of course! And I find it absolutely magnificent, seeing it up close like this.” She replied with an honest smile, “Whoever made it surely is an expert at their craft.”

At this, Philip’s heart soared! This beautiful woman had heard of him, had heard of his work. His heart began to beat harder, faster than before. All at once, any worries he may have had about the quality of his craftsmanship vanished, all in the wake of this one person’s praise.

“Do you really think so?” Philip swallowed around a lump in his throat, and all too softly, the maiden nudged the back of his hand with her own.

“Yes, I do.” She whispered, a sparkle of sorts in her eye that made Philip sure he had to be dreaming, that sort of sparkle that told him she knew exactly who built it. Biting her lip for a moment, she looked around and continued in that same hushed tone, “I fear that I am not familiar enough with your village to know my way around this festival, would you accompany me?”

No one had ever asked Philip to accompany them to anything, as a friend or…or otherwise. And the way she was looking at him, he knew that this was most certainly an otherwise.

“It would be a privilege.” He offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted, and back to the festival they went.

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Pike Peak knew how to throw a party, this was extremely evident to the young maiden as Philip led her through the main square. Everyone had donned a costume of sorts, masks and hats and funny tunics made to look like the buds of the lavender flower which they were celebrating. Music played happily and people danced, children ran about shouting out in joy as they chased one another, and merriment was abundant.

As they walked through the square, Philip brought the maiden down towards the merchant stalls, where craftsmen like himself had goods on display for purchase. It wasn’t just those in Pike Peak who attended the festival, no no, people from all over Springs Valley made the journey to partake in the festivities, and the merchants knew it. Philip had of course seen all these goods before, but it was evident that the maiden had not.

She stopped in front of one stall belonging to the Jeweler. Kept in wooden boxes made by Philip’s own hand were one of a kind necklaces, rings, earrings, and bracelets of purple stones that shone in the late morning light.

“Would you like one?” Philip asked her gently, when he noticed her staring at a particular pair of earrings.

“Oh I couldn��t possibly.” She replied with an embarrassed shake of her head, about to move on from the stall.

“Which pair? Please, allow me.” Philip reaches out to grasp her wrist to prevent her from leaving, wanting to give something to her, wanting to do something nice for her. He didn’t have very much money, but he knew that he would soon be paid for his commission, and decided this beautiful woman was worth the expense.

“Those.” Entranced, she pointed to an ornate set.

Philip had to admit, she had wonderful taste. The earrings were set in gold, small hoops from which stones dangled. The first and largest stone was oval shaped, and from it six smaller circles in two rows of three sat nestled in gold as well. And then, dangling from them, three oblong purple stones twinkled and clinked together like windchimes as Philip picked them up.

“How much?” Philip asked the Jeweler, who eyed him with joy.

“For you, who has done so much for me? Take them as a gift, I insist.” The Jeweler put her hands up as if to say she would not be convinced to change her mind. She regarded the maiden then and told her, “Without this man’s talents, I would not have a studio to make my designs in.”

The maiden grinned at Philip, who only blushed deeply from the kind words spoken about him. Turning to him, the maiden pushed her hair away from her ears.

“Would you put them on for me?” She asked, and Philip had to will his hands not to shake as he did just that. She did not even wince when he tightened the earrings a little too much, and the two chuckled together out of shyness when she corrected it, before addressing the Jeweler and this handsome man, “Thank you, they’re beautiful. I shall never take them off.”

With that, Philip and the maiden continued along their way, exploring more of the festival.

Surely he was delusional, he thought, he must have been. Because every now and again, he felt the barest brush of knuckles against his own, a tentative invitation. He is about to have a crisis about it, when she speaks softly and does it again, the careful nudging of her fingers against his.

“Won’t you take my hand?” She whispered, turning those bright eyes of hers onto him, stunning him with her beauty.

He grew self-conscious, regarding his own palms. Covered in callouses and blisters and bandages were they, cut up by splintered wood and burned by hot glues. They were a peasant’s hands, dirt still lingering under the fingernails, scarred from a lifetime of efforts. Her hands were soft, he could tell just by looking at them, at the smooth supple skin that kept ghosting over his own.

“I fear that you wouldn’t like them, they are rough from years of woodworking.” He admitted, and much like he had felt in front of the King and Queen, he feels shame.

But she only took his hand with a confidence that shocked him, the electric feeling of her fingers weaving through his own making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“You are mistaken, my good sir.” The maiden gives him a smile, soft and sweet, “It is because they are rough that I would like to hold them.”

Philip could do nothing but blink.

Could this be…? Could it be the very thing that he had longed for for so long? A person who accepted him for all that he was, and all that he was not? With the way she looked at him, Philip felt his heart begin to pound, growing larger in his chest. She, lovely and gentle as she was, wanted to hold his hand, his dirty scarred hand – never did Philip think he could have ever been so lucky!

In that moment, it was as if the festival disappeared entirely, as if there were no other villagers in the square aside from him and her. He was lost in her eyes, in her smile. Sweating and nervous, Philip let his eyes close and began to lean down, compelled to offer her a kiss. Terrified, he held his breath as adrenaline surged through his body, for though he had his eyes closed, he felt her leaning in towards him, felt her lips just about to press against his own when –

The wailing of a small child snapped them both out of their moment of intimacy, and Philip opened his eyes, seeing a young boy with big fat tears spilling over his cheeks clinging to the maiden’s apron.

“Oh you poor thing!” She opened her arms for him and scooped him up, balancing him atop her hip in a manner that has Philip so endeared to her that he cannot even be angry that their moment was interrupted. She pet down his thick curly hair and bounced him gently, all the while soothing him, “Don’t cry, what is the matter?”

“I’ve lost my Mama.” The little boy hiccupped and cried, and the maiden gets a determined look in her eye straight away.

“We’ll help you find her, won’t we?” She asked Philip, and he was so dazed by the sight of her kindness that he barely recognizes his own voice when he speaks.

“Yes of course -- ” Philip began fully prepared to do just that, before a frantic looking woman appeared out of the crowd.

She had another child on her hip, this one much younger than the boy that had stopped crying once he saw her. The family resemblance was striking, and Philip kicked himself for not recognizing the boy.

“My precious baby! Oh thank you so much -- Flip, madam, how can I ever repay you?” The cobbler’s wife cried tears of relief when the maiden let her son out of her own arms, the boy running back to his mother.

“Don’t be silly, I’m only glad it did not take long for you to be reunited.” She replied. Now that her hand was freed, it once again twined through with Philip’s, an almost subconscious decision that Philip had no intention of bringing up, lest she change her mind.

“Bless you, oh bless you.” The cobbler’s wife surged forward and placed a kiss to each of their cheeks, before gently scolding her son as they walked away, “Darling what have I told you about running off, you gave me a heart attack!”

In the wake of the momentary drama, the maiden couldn’t help but smile at Philip.

“Your name is Flip?” She inquired, and Philip kicked himself – he had never actually introduced himself after all this time.

“It’s a nickname.” He corrected, before bowing with good manners like the gentleman he was as he said dramatically, “Philip Zimmerman at your service.”

“That’s a strong name. You wear it with pride, I can tell.” The maiden laughed at his theatrics, a sound which warmed his heart.

“It’s the only name I’ve ever had.” Philip mused, “So I suppose I have to, don’t I?”

“I suppose so, yes.” She chuckled at him softly, her eyes kind even though they were teasing. He felt no malice from her, and therefore allowed the jests to go unreprimanded.

At the thought of jesting, Philip was reminded of the stages which had been constructed in the now-harvested fields of lavender. Stages where jesters and comedians alike tried to rouse crowds, nestled among smaller stages where those who felt lucky could try their hand at various games and competitions.

“Come, let me show you more of the festival, there are games to be played.” Philip squeezed her hand adoringly, watching in delight as her eyes lit up.

“Games! Oh that sounds wonderful!” She breathed, and Philip could have sworn that he never felt more alive than when he began to run, tugging him along towards the promise of entertainment like that which she had never before seen.

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Hours later, many hours later, when the sun had gone down and the crickets had come out to play, their songs filling the air with a symphony of chirping, Philip sat conflicted. He never wanted this evening to end, because he knew that once it did, this woman that he had decidedly given his heart to would have to leave him…and if she only came to visit for the festival, he did not know if he would ever see her again.

The two of them found themselves sitting alone near the drinking well, after enjoying the last of their dinner together. The maiden was even more beautiful in the moonlight, if such a thing were possible, and Philip spent a great deal trying to figure out how to express that. She didn’t seem to mind the silence, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his shoulder, comfortable with the tranquility.

“I must confess, I have never met anyone like you before.” Philip said eventually, his voice quiet.

“Nor I to be sure.” She replied, the pinky of her hand gently looping around his much larger one. When she spoke again, it was with a breathless sort of sadness that told him she didn’t want to leave him either. Plaintively, she looked up at him and sighed, “Oh Philip…”

“May I kiss you?” He dared to hope aloud, hoping that this time they would not be interrupted.

The smallest of smiles graced her lips, and she gave him a gentle nod. Joy simmering underneath his skin, Philip leaned in and pressed a small, chaste kiss to her lips. She was every bit as sweet as he had imagined she would be, and when she sighed against his mouth and allowed her lips to part, Philip thought he was going to pass out from the way her tongue welcomed his in.

Like that, the carpenter and the young maiden kissed underneath the stars, the last of the festival dying down in the distance. By the drinking well, Philip’s heart soared, as he cupped her cheek with one of his rough palms, and she only leaned into it, nuzzling her face further.

“I’m afraid.” She admitted with a whisper when they broke apart, only far enough to breathe, their foreheads and noses still touching.

“With me, you have nothing to fear.” Philip promised, not knowing why she should be afraid, but wanting her to understand that should she allow him, he would protect her from any kind of harm, from now until always.

He needn’t say the words, for she heard them anyway, and leaned in for another kiss, one that he was happy to give, one that he found himself always willing and eager to give.

So wrapped up in the embrace were they, that the clock-tower struck eleven times nearly unnoticed, until on the twelfth time, the maiden pulled away sharply, eyes wide, afraid.

“Shit, is that the final evening bell?” She scrambled to stand, pulling herself away from the warm arms that had surrounded her.

Philip frowned, confused, worried for her. Was this what she meant by afraid? He had so many questions, only getting so far as “Yes but – ”

“I must go! I’m sorry – ” She interrupted him desperately, regret and terror and sadness plaguing her voice.

The maiden began to dash away, and Philip chased after her, managing to take her hand and pull her towards him with a plea.

“Wait! Please wait, please don’t go.” Philip cupped her cheeks and felt the cold of dread flood through him, realizing belatedly that -- “You never told me your name!”

“It’s (Y/N)!” The maiden ducks out of his grip with a look of despair, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. “I must go, or else I’ll be in trouble, big trouble.”

Against his better judgement, Philip releases the maiden. He wouldn’t dare disrespect her wishes, no matter how desperately he wished that she could stay with him.

“Will I ever see you again?” He chased after her still, not wanting to let her out of his sights just yet.

“I hope so.” She threw him a pained glance over her shoulder, her voice breaking as tears stung at her eyes, “I’m sorry!”

“That’s okay – I’ll, I’ll find you!” Philip promised, his voice carrying out into the night, “No matter how far you go, I’ll find you.”

With that, the maiden was gone.

On the far edge of the village, where the town met the mountains, Philip stood alone. He looked out at the vast expanse of the wood beyond him, and let out a deep sigh.

Just then, he noticed the moonlight twinkling on something that had fallen to the ground. Picking it up, he realized it was one of the earrings that he had given her. It must have come free from her ear in her haste, and carefully, ever so gently, he picked it up and cradled it in his palm.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll find you.” He said to the earring, before clasping his hand around it and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

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The next morning, feeling a dark cloud of sorrow and frustration beginning to form over his head, Philip dressed himself and began his trek to the palace once more. As part of the negotiations, the King and Queen of Springs Valley had told him that they would pay him his commissioned fee after the work was completed, so that he would not run off with the sum. He thought this perfectly reasonable, although really, who was he to argue with the royals?

The only thing keeping him in a good mood was the anticipation of this payment, which he had, through the night, decided he would use to travel and find (Y/N), which he had silently pledged his devotion to.

He figured she must be in one of the neighboring villages, which weren’t all that far away. Using the payment from the monarchy, Philip decided he would purchase himself the materials and means to ride across the Valley in search of her. But when he got far enough into town on the walk passing through so that he could reach the Purple Palace, he noticed that everyone was gathered in the town square, a concerned hush fallen over a crowd.

Frowning, Philip stood at the edge of this crowd, and tapped the shoulder of a young man to get his attention.

“What’s going on?” He demanded to know, for this was no merry enjoyment of a festival, no no, this was a concerning sort of apprehension and worry.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s been a kidnapping.” The young man explained, growing more impassioned with every word, “Someone has taken the princess! The princess from the Purple Palace! I always knew she was real, apparently the king and queen received a ransom note from King Felix of the Forbidden Forest -- and are on the verge of waging war.”

At this news, Philip staggered back a few feet.

The rumors of the princess were true? She was real? And she had been kidnapped?

Philip didn’t have much time, it would seem. He needed to get his payment and get out now, before any war were to begin. He needed to find the beautiful woman that stole his heart, and make sure she was safe from harm. Without so much as even a goodbye, Philip broke into a running pace, his mind clouded as his feet carried him to the palace.

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Bursting through the doors, he bowed deeply, out of breath yet respectful.

“Your majesties, I have heard of your tragedy and I am so sorry to hear that such a thing has come to pass.” Philip broke royal protocol by speaking to them first, wanting simply to get what he came for, and get out of their hair.

The royals were, by all accounts, despaired. The Queen wept on her throne, her face buried in her hands, and the King’s sadness manifested in a snappish, “What do you want?”

They were no longer warm and welcoming as they had once been, but Philip could not blame them; their daughter was taken from them after all.

“I come to fetch my payment, for the commission.” Philip boldly requested, making the King frown.

“Your what? No I don’t think so, not now.” He waved the carpenter away, shocking Philip.

“…With all due respect, your majesty, you promised – ”

“I said no! There is war to be had, the money will go towards that instead. I do not expect you to understand.” The King shouted, before his shoulders sagged and he slumped back in his throne.

Philip chewed on his lip for a moment. He could see the palace guards approaching him, ready to throw him out, ready to haul him and drag him out if necessary…but Philip needed that money. He needed it so that he could search for (Y/N). So, without thinking, he blurted out the only solution his mind had thought of:

“What if there need not be a war?”

The King and Queen both looked at him then, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” The Queen, with her scratchy sorrow-filled voice demanded of this…this…this peasant.

Philip stood tall and strong under their gaze, squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“Allow me to retrieve the princess.” He requested, and tried to ignore the snickers and incredulous chuckles of the palace guards behind him.

“You!” The King scoffed, feeling like the cause was well and truly hopeless. “Why you wouldn’t last one night out in the Forbidden Forest, let alone make it all the way to King Felix’s fortress.”

“Allow me to try. Give me five days, if I have not returned by then, assume me dead and send your armies.” Philip insisted, “But if I do return with the princess, I expect double the payment for my commission.”

This was a risk, he knew, but he was certain it was something he could pull off. He knew the mountains like the back of his hand, he spent his entire life in the wood! He knew the paths and the trails, and most importantly, with King Felix expecting an army, he would never suspect a lone carpenter to be of any threat.

The Queen seemed to be thinking the very same thing, because after a moment or two of shocked silence, she stood up from her throne and descended the many steps which kept her elevated. She descended those steps with grace and poise, and when she finally stopped in front of Philip, he got down on one knee.

Placing a hand on Philip’s shoulder, a move which stunned everyone in the royal court, the Queen promised softly, “My boy, if you return with our princess, I will grant you anything your heart desires, and on that you have my word.”

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

And so, Philip’s journey began.

Riding atop the gentle steed that had accompanied him on many a trip into the mountains, and equipped with nothing but his carpentry tools, Philip set off discreetly, quietly. There could be no fanfare, no one in the village could even know what he was up to, lest the evil King Felix catch word.

He had put a sign on his workshop’s door saying that he had gone out of town, but he did not say for what. It felt slightly wrong, leaving the village without another word like that, but all the while he kept one thing in mind: the sooner he rescued the princess, the sooner he could begin to search for his lovely (Y/N).

The mountains were quiet for a long while, the better part of the day in fact. He and his horse had ridden through the winding trails that so many before him had traveled, trails that were easy and comfortable. He wasn’t very far outside the village yet, so things were relatively tame. It wasn’t until dusk began to fall, that he noticed a steady plume of chimney smoke up in the distance.

A chimney meant a house, which meant possible shelter for the night. Philip allowed himself to hope that perhaps the owner of the house would give him refuge, even if only for a few hours – and was so caught up in his daydreaming that he did not notice when a man jumped out of a tree a few feet in front of him, landing on his feet skillfully.

“Halt!” The man said, holding a hand outstretched, startling Philip’s horse.

“Woahh!” Philip tried to calm his steed, and when the beast was no longer threatening to buck him off its back, Philip cleared his throat and tried to be amiable, “Good day to you sir, what – ”

“None shall pass without besting me and my bow.” The man cut Philip off, making him raise his eyebrows.

“…Excuse me?” Philip sized the man up for a moment.

He was handsome, a well styled afro and neatly groomed beard denoting him as a man who prided himself on his appearance. His clothing followed suit in such a fashion – well tailored and made from expensive materials like silk, a brocade tunic shimmered in the warm light of the golden hour.

“You are trespassing on my land, and if you wish to leave with your life intact, you must best me in a test of archery.” The man did not budge, and Philip did not know how to proceed.

“But I have not bow nor arrow.” He explained, to which the man’s proud posture fell a little flat. For how could there be a competition if the competitors were not equally matched?

“Oh.” The man scratched at his beard for a moment or two, trying to come up with a solution. Eventually, he snapped his fingers with an elated smile that showed off brilliantly white teeth, “Well in that case, you may borrow some of mine!”

The man beckoned Philip to follow him, and with only a small amount of hesitation, Philip followed. What lay before them was a grand home, constructed of the most sturdy stone. A family crest that Philip did not recognize waved from flagpoles atop the home, but Philip didn’t need to recognize the crest for him to know that this was a noble home. This became increasingly evident as the man lead Philip to a field where a shed sat – a shed that looked larger than his entire home.

“What’s the test?” Philip asked, having gotten off of his horse and walked up to the man.

He handed Philip a beautifully constructed bow, and three sharpened arrows. He then pointed to two targets way across the other side of the field, so far away that Philip had a hard time locating them at first.

“Best of three shots, whoever gets the most bullseyes is the victor.” The man announced, and Philip gave a single nod in agreement.

It was no secret in the village that Philip had some of the best eyesight around, he needed to. Spending so many hours staring at intricately fine details in his woodwork had sharpened his skills considerably, but more than that Philip also hunted for his own food, as much of the village did. Nearly every weekend Philip went into the mountains to shoot, and every weekend he was successful.

This man did not know that, but it did not matter. The only thing that mattered, was Philip getting this over as quickly as possible so that he could be reunited with his maiden.

Stepping up to a line of dirt in the field, the man allowed Philip to take the first shot. He steadied his aim, took in a deep breath and fired – bullseye! Philip gestured to the man, who went next. With expert precision, he too shot his first arrow directly into the bullseye of the target.

Philip went again, and again he scored a bullseye, so precisely in fact, that this arrow managed to split straight through the previous one. Shocked, the man looked Philip up and down, as if trying to recognize him from a past archery competition. Philip only gave him a shrug, and watched as he too split his previous arrow into two pieces.

Each man only had one arrow left, and Philip knew that this was the one that mattered most. If he struck his bullseye, he surely would be allowed to pass. Closing his eyes, he focused not on the setting of the sun, or of the breeze in the air that evening brought, but of his (Y/N). He visualized her smiling face, her lips upon his, and released his bow into the air.

It soared through the great open field with precision and struck the target with a determination that Philip mirrored in his soul. He cracked one eye open, and saw that the arrow had indeed landed on the bullseye! Not nearly as well as the other two arrows had, but it was undeniably a success.

With a huff, the man raised his own bow and arrow for the final time, and pulled back a little too forcefully out of anger at being bested – causing the bow to snap and the arrow to go flying rogue.

“Dammit!” The man shouted, stumbling backwards, his hand in pain from the recoil of the broken bow.

“Look out!” Philip urged, because what went up must come down, and Philip charged at the man, tackling him to the ground, knocking him out of the way of the arrow which was making its return to Earth directly in the spot where the man had been standing.

Bewildered, the man looked up at Philip with admiration, as he stood away from the nobleman.

“Here, let me help you up.” Philip insisted, “Take my hand.”

“What is your name?” The man asked, accepting the offer and allowing Philip to haul him to his feet.

“Philip Zimmerman, but call me Flip. Yours?” Philip gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder to make sure he was alright, as the two got their footing. The men looked at the arrow in the ground, noted how it had buried itself deep.

“Lord Ronald Stallworth, but you may call me Ron.” Ron replied, with a polite nod of his head. “You are a most accomplished archer, Flip. Where are you headed? I don’t get many visitors out this way.”

Philip looked around, looked over his shoulder, wanting to make sure no one was around to hear.

“The Princess has been kidnapped, and I have been tasked on a secret mission to retrieve her.” He explained, hoping that Ron would understand his urgency, “I’m sorry about your bow, Ron. But I must be going now.”

Philip began to walk back towards his horse, when Ron surprised him by jogging to catch up, walking alongside him.

“Wait!” Ron called, stopping in front of him for a moment to make Philip pause. Ron put his hands on Philip’s shoulders in a friendly gesture, and then pointed to himself, “You are a good man, Philip. Allow me to join you on your quest! I know these woods well, I could be of assistance to you. Two archers are better than one, wouldn’t you say?”

“Why do you want to join me?” Philip frowned. Ron was rich, he had a luxurious home and accommodations, surely that would be more comfortable than a rugged trip up the mountains.

Ron chuckled at his question, and scratched at his beard once more.

“To tell you the truth, it’s pretty fucking boring here waiting for someone to pass by for a challenge. And you are the first man who has ever bested me, I am eager to see where your journey takes you. Where it takes us.” Ron looked hopeful, and Philip reasoned that he was right, two archers were better than one.

“I’d be happy to have you join, Ron.” Philip agreed, officially adding a new member to his party.

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

Not only did Ron allow Philip to spend the night in his large home, but he also ordered his kitchen staff to cook a grand meal for them to enjoy. Philip was grateful for the strength, particularly as Ron was rich, and had no worries about running out of food any time soon, so the portions were large, and there was more than enough leftover to be packaged for the road.

“So, a princess, huh?” Ron asked around a bite of venison, thoughtful and yet slightly confused.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Philip sighed, slightly annoyed at this interruption of his plan to find the maiden.

Ron frowned into his potatoes, confessing, “I didn’t know that we had one.”

At this, Philip let out an honest laugh and shrugged, chugging a large gulp of sweet mead.

“To tell you the truth? Up until this morning, I didn’t either.” Philip admitted, which made Ron laugh too. They cheered goblets, and indulged in another drink at the situation before them. “I thought the whole thing was a bunch of bullshit rumors, but then there it is in the square: Princess Kidnapped.”

“The reward must be great then, for you to go on such a dangerous journey alone to retrieve her.” Ron noted casually, but Philip shrugged.

“Only that which I have been owed, is all that I’m asking.” He replied cryptically.

Of course he had decided he would give Ron a portion of the money for his help, but he didn’t necessarily want anyone knowing just how big of a reward it truly was. In any case, Ron was a Lord, and probably spent that very amount on a month’s worth of goods.

“I wonder what your wife must think of such selflessness.” Ron replied with a grin then, making Philip’s mood soften.

“I…I have no wife to speak of, though I should hope that if I had, she wouldn’t find fault in me for it.” Philip’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. He hadn’t really allowed himself to think about it, about what would happen should he find (Y/N).

Now it only seemed logical, the most obvious step, for him to court her and hopefully, one day, marry her. But that was a dream, one that Philip couldn’t get too ahead of himself to dwell on. He needed to make it back with the Princess alive first and foremost.

“Forgive me.” Ron’s voice too quieted, and he cleared his throat, “It’s just, I can see the love in your eyes, I was wrong to assume.”

“What do you mean?” Philip asked, a frown dipping between his eyebrows.

Ron mused and mulled over a bite of roasted vegetables, tried to best explain himself. He eventually settled on the truth: “It affects everyone differently, love. But every lover I have ever known as the undeniable sparkle in their eye, as do you.”

“Well…there is someone…” Philip admitted, a blush blooming across his cheeks.

“Ah-ha! Tell me all about her my good man.” Elated, Ron clapped his hands together once and let a happiness light up his face.

“Her name is (Y/N), we met last night.” Philip blushed deeper, reminiscing in the fantasy that had been their time together at the festival. “I am hoping that when all this is over, I might find her and see her again.”

“Well then, we must get our rest and leave at the first light of morning! For it is a long journey to the forbidden wood, and then a long journey back.” Ron replied.

Encouraged by his enthusiasm, Philip ate the rest of the food on his plate with a newfound vigor. Perhaps he could do this, he reasoned. With a man like Ron at his side, who had such skill and obvious charm, the two of them could be unstoppable.

When the dinner was over, they retired to their respective rooms, and Philip allowed himself to let sleep wash over his mind, thoughts of his fair maiden dancing in his head.

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

The next morning, true to his word, Ron woke Philip at the break of dawn. During the night, his servants had prepared a bundle for which Philip and Ron would travel, including the leftover food, canteens of fresh water, and a change of clean clothes. Additionally, Philip was provided with a bow and a set of arrows to use all his own. Philip was grateful for it, and the two set off in amicable company, listening to the sounds of the trees and nature sing around them.

They managed to cover much ground in the morning, passing the time by talking of themselves. Ron told Philip all about how his family came from a long line of nobility, and that he inherited the estate from his father. Philip told Ron all about how he too in a way, inherited his trade from his father. Though they came from different places, the two found more in common with one another than they found differences.

All in all, it was a wonderful friendship that had begun to form, and Philip and Ron found themselves in a fit of laughter at a joke Ron had told, when they came to a large stone bridge that sat high up above a gorge of water. Standing in front of the bridge was a tall man, with long sandy hair, and an expression on his face that told Philip he meant business.

“Halt!” The man said, his voice commanding of attention, “Who goes there?”

Philip and Ron looked at one another, and as Ron had a higher rank of authority, he was the one to reply.

“We are Lord Ron Stallworth, and Flip Zimmerman, who speaks?” Ron asked in return, and the man straightened his posture, before bowing slightly, not realizing he was in the presence of nobility.

“I am Jimmy Creek my Lord, owner of this bridge. If you wish to cross, you must pay the toll.” Jimmy introduced himself, making Philip look at Ron.

“Do you have any money on you?” Philip whispered, assuming the answer was yes, and being unfortunately surprised when Ron gave him an embarrassed wince.

“Shit, no. Didn’t think we’d need it for such a short trip, you?” Ron whispered back, making Philip’s mind race to find a solution.

“We have no coins to spare. May we pass by another means? Or perhaps I could send money to you once we have returned?” Philip asked, hoping that Jimmy would be reasonable. He looked like a reasonable sort of fellow, anyway.

Jimmy thought on this for a while, before brandishing the sword that he kept on his hip. The metal glinted in the afternoon light, throwing sparks of sunshine all around as he twirled it and whirled it around effortlessly.

“If you can best me in a fight, then you may pass.” Jimmy announced, and Philip chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“I haven’t got a sword.” He replied honestly, and this stumped Jimmy, for what travelers did not move through these mountains without a sword?

“Oh. Well in that case, you can borrow one of mine.” Jimmy snapped his fingers then, and beckoned Philip over to him as he walked back to a small hut near the bridge.

It was humble, made of stone and wood, and looked similar to one of the dwellings he might see in his own village. Philip waited outside while Jimmy rummaged through his hut and eventually emerged with a sword for Philip to use.

The sword was beautiful. Obviously crafted with care, the grip happened to be the perfect size for Philip’s hand, the jewel crusted pommel and cross-guard weighted just enough to counter balance the long blade. Philip wondered where a man like Jimmy came across such a thing, as he gave it a few experimental twists and spins.

Philip had virtually no training in swordsmanship, except for that of the surprise attacks that the village children waged on him. Jimmy was no child though, and this made Philip gulp, doubting his chances – until Jimmy began to run at him full speed ahead, and the only thing Philip could think about was winning.

Swords clanged, great big sparks flying into the air as they went after one another again and again. Jimmy may have been older, but he was nimble, quick on his feet. Philip found he could not use his sheer size and strength alone, although this certainly helped him. Dodging and ducking away from Jimmy’s blows, Philip pushed pushed pushed Jimmy back, until the two of them began to move down the bridge.

Below them, the gorge rushed with water furiously hungry, white frothy waves of grey-blue water crashing and smacking against craggy cliff walls. Out there on the bridge, the wind had no place to buffer against, and both men began to realize that one strong gust of wind could very well send them over.

The sounds of their swords echoed through the gorge, as did their grunts of effort from trying to best one another. Jimmy would lunge, and Philip would jump back, waiting for a moment to lunge himself. Their swords met in a flurry of silver metal, blade swinging expertly and with deadly precision.

He thought of the children in the village, thought of the way his beloved (Y/N) might interact with them. How she might cheer them on as they attacked Philip in the very same manner that Jimmy now was. Spinning his sword in the same way that he had watched the young boy from the village all that time ago, Philip managed to generate enough momentum in his arms to block every single sharp and quick blow that Jimmy sent his way.

Back back back Philip pushed Jimmy, his arm muscles flexing and his feet planted on the ground – until he gave Jimmy a particularly harsh swing of his sword, and in the effort to block it, not only did Jimmy’s hand lose its grip on his sword, but Jimmy stumbled backwards and fell, the wind striking at the worst possible moment, sending Jimmy over the edge of the bridge.

“Oh fuck!” Ron’s shout traveled from the other end of the bridge where he waited with the horses, watching with wide eyes, a hand clasped over his mouth as Philip ran to the edge.

Jimmy was dangling precariously close to death, his hands scrabbling for a grip on the rough and rocky side of the bridge that did not promise much purchase. The wind howled and whipped up the spray of water from a thousand feet below, a taste of the certain death Jimmy would face should he fall.

“Quick, take my hand!” Philip shouted over the rush of the wind and water and the pulse in his veins, letting his own sword clatter onto the stone of the bridge as he reached out.

Without hesitation, Jimmy grasped the offered hand and Philip hauled him back onto the bridge safely, Philip’s muscles making quick work of the effort. Exhausted from their fight and this momentary scare, the two men simply laid on their backs on the bridge, catching their breath.

“You spared me?” Incredulously, Jimmy regarded Philip who was not more than a few feet away on the narrow structure of stone.

“Of course, why should I kill you?” Philip replied, a friendly smile teasing at his lips.

“Thank you, Philip. You are a good man.” Jimmy said seriously, and Philip blushed, he wasn’t sure about all that, it’s just, who was he to end a man’s life? Jimmy glanced at the beautiful sword that “You can keep that, you’ve earned it.”

Philip too looked at the sword, at how beautiful it was. Because really, the thing shone in the light magnificently, the jewels sparkling and shimmering in the rays of the sun. Philip was entranced, absolutely entranced by it, but he could not lay around and stare at it all day. He had a princess to rescue, and a maiden to love.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Philip asked as he stood up, helping Jimmy up too.

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll be on our way then.” Philip gave him a nod, and then gestured for Ron to come over with the horses and join them, eager to continue on their way.

“Wait! Allow me to accompany you on your quest?” Jimmy asked, eyes wide with a sudden anxiety.

At this, Ron and Philip looked at one another and then back at him, a slight frown on their faces.

“Why?” Ron asked, looking him up and down, wondering what Jimmy was suddenly so anxious.

“Truth be told, I’m really sick of sitting around on this fucking bridge. My father sat on this bridge as did his – but I never wanted to. This is my chance at something new, something different!” He then turned to Philip, “I see you have bows and arrows, but in combat you’d be best to do with an extra swordsman, and that I can provide. Besides, you’re the only person to ever give me a run for my money like that – I respect you.”

Philip understood that feeling all too well, the ache in his bones for a different life than the one that was promised to him. He had been given a chance for this quest, and now he could do the very same for this man, he could give Jimmy a chance of his own.

Looking at Ron to gauge his reaction, Ron looked back, and then nodded with a great big grin, “Oh I don’t see why not, welcome to the group.”

“Thank you! I won’t let you down!” Jimmy excitedly hugged them both, his long sandy-blonde hair blowing in the breeze as he ran back to his hut just on the other side of the bridge.

When he came back, he had a horse of his own, and a bag already packed. Philip smiled, he must have had this bag packed for quite some time. It made something inside Philip’s chest warm – one was never too old for adventure, a truth that continued to make itself evident.

“Say, where are we headed anyway?” Jimmy asked, sheathing his sword in the holster on his hip.

“To the forbidden wood, to rescue the princess that’s been kidnapped by King Felix.” Philip responded, sure that no one could hear them up on the bridge the way they were.

Jimmy frowned and looked at Ron, scratching the back of his neck and asking, “We have a princess?”

Ron burst out laughing and slapped Jimmy on the back, “That’s what I said!” ---------------------

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

Tagging some friends! Part 2 will be up tomorrow :) @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @drake-bells-waxed-penis @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver fanfic #adam driver #adcu #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman fanfic #5k follower celebration #my writing #fairytale au #storybook au

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

Lost & Found

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: *long sigh* finally. This story has been haunting me for months now. I was so tempted to just go crazy and start uploading it because I love it so much. But If I’m uploading this, it means that we’ve made it to the promised day! Yay! You guys, I think this may be one of my favorites. Which, if we’re being honest, all of my works are my favorites. But this is everything.

That is all. Please read and enjoy. Let me know your thoughts, I’d be overjoyed to hear from you.

Chapter 1. Unbreakable Bond

It was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the bond. Perhaps I was just desperate enough. Practically begging on my knees as I stood outside the dingy apartment building, knowing that this was irreversible.

Wanting it to be irreversible.

The woman’s name is Christina, and she gives me a wary look as she explains the cutting process. Her own severed thread is a testament to her underground business. I trust her.

“I need you to be absolutely positive about this,” she warns. “There's no going back once I cut the thread. It will be nearly impossible to find your soulmate.”

That’s the least of my problems. I know that it’ll be all too easy to check in on the whereabouts of my soulmate; after all, he rarely goes anywhere without it being broadcasted to the entire world.

“Burn it.”

Warning me about the impending heat as she pulls out a blowtorch, I hear her sigh. Christina gathers up my thread and places it delicately atop a metal slab.

The little warehouse attached to her apartment offers little distraction; there are a few scattered tools laying about and nothing else but dull gray walls. In a time like this, a distraction would be nice.

“Do you ever regret it?” I ask, an uneasy turn of my stomach pushing the question out. Christina pulls her faceguard down, gesturing for me to look the opposite way. My shadow takes up the entire wall as she fires up the blowtorch.

“Me?” I can feel the heat of the fire, but I refuse to flinch. “Not really. But I do feel a bit bad for my soulmate.”

I frown at the gray wall. “Why?”

Christina shifts to get a more direct angle on the thin red thread that hangs from my finger and extends to disappear under the door. “You’re not the only one who is about to lose a soulmate today. At least it’s your decision.”

Staring at the unforgiving gray wall, I have plenty of time to mull over her response. However, the second I begin to worry or feel sorry for my soulmate, I remember the sweaty palms and crippling anxiety from earlier.

As Christina takes a step back after nearly thirty minutes, turning the blowtorch off, I turn to assess the damage. Frowning at the still intact thread, Christina snorts.

“Don’t move.”

She takes a lofty hammer in her hands, bringing it down hard on the thread. I gasp as sparks fly into the air, my thread tightening around my finger and pulling. Grabbing my hand, I struggled to remain upright on the stool.

“We’re almost there!” Christina huffs, bringing the hammer down again and again. Sparks continue to fly, one landing on my shoulder and burning a small hole in my shirt. My hiss of pain is cut short as the pressure on my finger suddenly loosens, nearly causing me to fly backward since I was straining against it.

My breath comes up short as Christina removes the hammer from atop the thread, and I see what happened.

The formerly vivid red hue fades to a dull color, almost a brown-red like dried blood. I watch as the frayed ends begin to retreat, one end slipping off the table and disappearing under the door.

I push off the stool, ripping the door open just in time to see the red thread glinting under the moonlight, drifting away on a breeze. Retreating to its other half.

Glancing down at my hand, I hold up my finger where the other frayed end stops just a few centimeters away from the base of my finger.

“Yeah, it’ll stay like that,” Christina says as she comes to stand beside me. “Unless you want me to burn your finger off…?”

I give her a dry chuckle. “No, thanks. It’s alright like this.” I tilt my head, marveling at the fact that I’m looking out into the world without my thread obscuring my view. “So...will his thread just disappear?”

Christina shakes her head. “Your threads, while cut, still mirror each other. So his will look like yours in a few minutes when it catches up to him.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

She invites me back inside, offering me a salve for my aching shoulder that was burned, frowning as she tells me that it will most likely scar.

“I’ll just consider it a souvenir,” I mumble. Christina laughs.

“That’s the spirit.” She passes me a mug of apple cider, sitting across from me at the same metal slab she calls a table where my thread was severed. “So, do you know who your soulmate is, then? Is that why?”

I take a long sip of the cider, my mind instantly replaying the scene from hours earlier. “I know who he is. Although, I wouldn’t say that I cut it because of who he is. He’s a great guy, actually. Top notch.”

Christina raises her brows at me. “Really? What makes you say that?”

I pause to look at my frayed thread, the string of fate loved by the world over. The thread that I always thought would bring me joy beyond belief, but made me realize that it would be better to let go.

For him.

“Do you know BTS?”

Christina sets her mug down with a loud bang. “Do I - of course I know who they are. Why?” Her expression turns to horror. “Why?”

I wince, taking another sip of my cider. Holding my hand up to display my severed thread, I wiggle my finger. “Park Jimin.”

✂

Jimin is in the middle of his dinner when he feels a sharp tug on his red thread. Chuckling at it, he holds his hand up for the thousands of fans watching his live to see.

“My soulmate is acting up, I think.” He watches as the comments flood in, most everyone mourning the fact that they are not his soulmate. A few people tease him about it being them on the other side of the thread, and while he knows that they’re simply joking with him, he can’t help the increase in his heart rate.

If only.

The thread tightens around his finger, making him hiss in pain. “Ouch,” he mutters, pulling back against the thread in order to sit still. “Sorry, everyone. What were we talking about? Oh, right. The concert today -”

Jimin whines as the thread pulls even harder, nearly causing him to spill his drink. Pulling back as hard as he can, he gives the camera an apologetic smile.

Then, his eyes widen as an idea strikes him. “Do you think I should follow it?” He asks excitedly. He hasn’t ever heard about people’s threads pulling them in the direction of their soulmate when they’re not even in the same room, but maybe she’s here, staying at the same hotel-

“I’ve gotta go!” Jimin shouts, blowing a kiss with his free hand before promising to visit everyone again soon. “Thanks guys!” Ending the live, Jimin shoots out of his chair, barely remembering to grab his room key before bursting out of his room and into the hallway.

Following the pull of the thread, he grins as he follows it to the elevator. Punching the button as hard as he can, he jumps from one foot to another as he waits for the doors to open.

“C’mon, c- bingo!” Sliding into the elevator with a gleeful shriek, he ponders for a moment before deciding to hit the ground floor.

Jimin’s cheeks are red with excitement by the time he reaches the lobby of the hotel, not even noticing when a couple of the bodyguards that escorted them to the concert venue today see him and immediately start following him.

“Mr. Park!” One of them calls. “Mr. Park! You can’t just leave without some form of security!”

Jimin hardly spares him a glance as he bolts for the exit where his thread continues to pull him. “Then follow me!”

The bodyguards chase after him into the night, exchanging concerned glances as Jimin follows after his thread like a convict on the run.

They nearly tackle him as they round a corner he just turned a few seconds prior, stumbling to a stop as they see Jimin standing still in the middle of the empty road.

“Mr. Park,” one of them pants. “Where are you going?”

Jimin stays completely still, the sudden lack of tension from his thread causing his heart to stop. Glancing down at where it’s wrapped around his finger, he feels the exact moment his heart stumbles to a stop.

Floating on a breeze, he sees the other end of his thread. Skimming along the ground like a plastic bag tossed about by the wind.

“What is it?” Jimin breathes out, the question leaving his lips without his consent. “What is it?”

There’s a chill that settles over him as the thread comes closer and closer, making Jimin retreat almost as though he could stop it from reaching him.

“No!” He yells, taking another step back as the end of the thread now arrives at his foot. “No! Not like this!”

The bodyguards watch on with disbelief as the thread works its way up to Jimin’s hand, slowing to a stop just below his finger. They’re continually glancing down at their own threads, making sure that they aren’t about to stumble upon the same ugly fate.

But it’s just Jimin with the cut thread. It’s just Jimin, who falls to his knees with a dull thump. Staring down at the thread, raising his shaking hand and grasping the frayed edge.

“Are they…?” One young bodyguard asks. His senior shakes his head.

“No. The thread turns gray when they die, remember?”

“Then what happened?” He asks again, eyes wide.

His senior sighs heavily, heart breaking at the sight he’s only ever heard stories about. “They must have found someone to cut it.”

The young bodyguard gasps. “Cut it? Is that even possible?”

Jimin’s sobs answer the question for him, the sound echoing off the buildings. One by one, lights turn on in the surrounding apartment buildings as people wonder what the commotion is all about.

Jumping into action, the bodyguards swarm Jimin, picking him up and supporting him between the two of them. Jimin’s body is weak and limp as he shouts and sobs.

“C-come back to me.”

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masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @onewoneman @moon-write @marianeamine @missseoulite @preciouschimine

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whosaskingwrites · 4 years

Text

Lost Without You (Sakusa x Reader)

A/N: People visited today so I had to write between interactions. No uploads tomorrow as I'm going to a theme park and this one was cute to write ngl. Its one of my favorites so far.

WARNINGS: Loss of senses, angst, lowkey fluff end

Date: Sunday October 25th, 2020

Details: 5.6 pages 2,070 words

Theme: Senses- you slowly begin to lose all of your senses. Most people die quickly after the loss of their fifth sense. To gain them back one has to admit their love or forget about them.

Angst Masterlist

Smell was the first to go.

I hadn’t even noticed at first nor do I really know how long it’d been gone. I didn’t notice until one day my mother asked me about perfume.

“Y/n what do you think?” I turned my mom had two glass bottles in her hands. One was a pale blue the other a mint green. “About what?” I asked “Which should I get? We are going to see the Sakusa family today,” I blinked. “We are?” “Yes Y/n now which one?” I hummed “Can I smell them?”

“Sure,” She spritzed the blue one first “This one’s Ocean Wonder,” I sniffed and shrugged when it didn’t smell like anything. She then sprayed the green one “This is Mahogany Apple,” I sniffed and realized I couldn’t smell it either. “Umm Ocean Wonder,” I said “Something wrong?” My mom asked me. “Nope!” I chirped sending her a small smile.

As we continued I discreetly smelled things freezing when I realized I couldn’t smell at all.

Taste was next it happened quickly after smell since they were linked together.

“Thanks for the food!” I said with everyone else a smile on my face. I sat next to Sakusa doing my best to avoid touching him as I knew he didn’t like it. I hummed as I ate the food was bland it had no taste only texture. I blinked schooling my features so I didn’t make a face. “How is it?” I looked at Sakusa's father as he asked “Its good!” I said matching the smile he sent me. “Im glad,” he went back to quietly discussing something with my mom.

I took small bites of the food not really paying attention to what was going on. That was until a hand touched my thigh under the table. I jumped slightly my eyes shifting to Sakusa's he was studying me dark eyes watching my moves.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered trying to avoid drawing the adults attention towards us. I turned red the longer he stared “I don’t know Omi,” I whispered back. He hummed the adults had stopped talking so he didn’t bring it up again.

Touch was third to go I had noticed that one quite quickly.

“Hey Omi where are we going?” I was trying to keep up my feet hitting the ground at a quicker pace then him. He stopped letting me catch up to him “A park,” I reached him with a smile “Even with all the germs?” He rolled his eyes at my statement. “I only see one germ,” he stated flicking me in the forehead. I scrunched my nose as he took my hand “Let’s go,” I held on as he gently pulled me along.

We reached the park fairly quick and I realized he’d taken me to the cherry blossom park. I watched the petals fall as we walked around but I blinked when I noticed multiple petals stuck to me. “I didn’t even feel those land on me,” I whispered swiping the pale pink petals off.

“Y/n?” I turned Sakusa stood behind me with an eyebrow raised “Yeah?” I asked blinking. “Did you not feel my hand on your shoulder?” I hummed as I thought “No I guess I didn’t,” I shrugged holding out my hand towards him. His eyes narrowed slightly before he took my hand it was weird I saw his hand clutched in mine and yet I couldn’t feel it.

We walked slowly and in silence for awhile before he spoke up “You’re losing your senses aren’t you?” he asked suddenly. “How did you-?” I trailed off. “At dinner you hardly ate and kept making a face. I also caught you sniffing things before making a face,” I hummed “I am losing my senses,” I whispered “That’s okay I am too,” I looked at him wide eyed “Omi you’re in love!?” I whispered shouted avoiding attracting attention to us. He rolled his eyes “I am yes and so are you,” I frowned.

“It’s too bad we can’t do anything about it though,” I said looking forward and this time he hummed. “Yeah it is too bad,”

I didn’t lose my hearing until a few months later it was a few days after my wedding when my hearing went.

I woke up stretching my muscles waiting for the popping of my back but nothing happened. I shrugged at that slipping out of the covers of my bed. I skipped to the kitchen I had grown used to my missing senses they didn’t bother me anymore as I knew they were unrecoverable. Unless I found a new love or told my current one but I couldn’t I had no way of contacting my love anymore and even if I did the world knew I was married.

Sakusa suddenly appeared in front of me causing me to jump. I placed a hand over my heart and noticed his mouth moving as his eyebrows furrowed in concern. My eyes widened when I realized I couldn’t hear him. I tried telling him as much but I couldn’t hear myself either. He nodded his head at me despite that I began panicking Sakusa reached forward pulling me towards him. It made me feel better even though I couldn’t feel it he pulled back and lifted his hands ‘sign language’ I thought as I watched his hands move

“It’s okay We’ll be fine,” I nodded at him “Find something to focus on and calm down okay?” I moved forward hugging him. It provided comfort for us both even if neither of us could actually feel it. I focused on the gold ring on Sakusa's finger it matched my own but it brought joy to neither of us.

Merely a sign that we had no choice in the manner they felt more like weights to us. I took a deep breath and pulled away looking at him I raised my hands “I have to find him. Just to clear everything,” He nodded “I understand,” Sakusa told me he had to go and I reached out and pulled him back suddenly. He turned to look at me with a questioning look “Im sorry I never told you,” He shook his head then “Don’t say sorry…Just come back,”

Sight was the last to go. I had never found my love and I couldn’t see Sakusa anymore. I knew he was there he'd been giving me medicine keeping me alive. Things were different now. My life was fading and I thought of my memories causing me to smile.

“Hey Omi what’s your favorite animal?” I asked getting ready for dinner with my parents. He hummed before he answered “I don’t know I’ve never really thought about it,” He said fixing his tie before a smirk settled on my face “Is it a fox?” He snapped his head towards me and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare suggest that again,” He stated and I just smiled at him mischief in my eyes. “Ooo what about an Owl?” I watched him stand up and head to the door. “Im leaving,” He said walking out of the room as I started laughing. “Wait Omi what about a crow!” I heard him sigh from the hallway before he answered “Im divorcing you,”

That was one of my favorite memories another one was from Sakusa’s first game on the Black Jackals team.

I looked at my phone ringing noting the caller I.D from the stands. I picked up the phone immediately “Omi? What’s wrong?” I asked into the phone “Nothing…I just wanted to talk to you,” I frowned “Omi…You’re five minutes from your debut game you never want to talk before a game,” I stated. I heard a deep sigh on the other line and I knew it was instinct at this point knowing what was wrong with Omi. “Its okay to be nervous Omi. I still get nervous just watching your games,” I chuckled. “You get nervous watching? Why?” I shrugged “I’m scared you’ll get hurt or something will happen,” I said “You should have more faith in me then that,” Sakusa said. “I’ve got plenty of faith in you Omi. It sounds like you don’t have faith in yourself,”

He was silent for a moment before he chuckled “I guess you’re right. Thanks Y/n,” I smiled “You’re welcome Omi! Make a service ace for me okay?” I chirped “Will do,” he stated back hanging up the phone.

I smiled he did make a service ace that day even going as far as to look at me afterwards. Ever since he started volleyball he dedicated one service ace to me and I was always in the audience cheering him on. I blinked or at least I think I did choosing to bask in one last memory.

“Hey Omi?” I hummed from the couch. I heard a noise from the kitchen before he hummed letting me know he was listening. “Do you think our parents would have cared if we had said something about the marriage?” I voiced twisting the gold ring on my finger. I heard footsteps before Sakusa crouched in front of me he looked at my hands before taking them preventing me from messing with the ring.

“Honestly? No I don’t think they would have and gone forward anyway. I know what your thinking…That guy you love he wasn’t good for you he left as soon as he found out not even bothering to ask you and instead chose to leave with no notice. He’s making you suffer right now,” Sakusa spoke and I stayed quiet he rarely talked this much unless he was making a point.

“What about the person you love Omi?” I whispered “They left too…But I’m glad our parents did this we might not love each other but…We at least know each other,” He sent me the faintest hint of a smile and I smiled back “You’re right Omi…Thanks,” He let go and stood up heading back to the kitchen “You’re welcome,” He said quietly.

I realized then that all of my favorite memories had Sakusa in them but never the person I loved. The longer I thought about it the more I realized that I couldn’t even remember their name and just like that it hit me hard. I didn’t love that person anymore. I loved Sakusa I hadn’t used my voice in a while but I knew I had to say it so I did. I couldn’t hear myself but I knew what I said “I love you Omi,” only four words but they were enough.

I felt something touch my hand and I flinched before I realized that I could feel. I relaxed again in curiosity and I realized it was Omi's hand he was using his fingers to write letters into my hand and that was enough to know what he was saying. “I love you too Y/n,” I smiled feeling Omi grab my hand. I tangled our fingers together and the smell of Lemon hit my nose and my smile got wider knowing my senses were coming back.

That’s when the unexpected happened I felt something soft hit my lips and vaguely tasted mint before I realized that Sakusa had kissed me. He pulled away letting my senses come back slowly and hoping to not overwhelm me. I heard a faint buzzing noise that got louder before it vanished. I listened there wasn’t any noise besides the fan moving and Sakusa’s breathing and the occasional shuffle.

“Can you hear me Y/n?” Sakusa asked quietly. “I can hear you Omi,” I heard how scratchy my voice was and I flinched. He chuckled quietly and helped me sit up he pressed a glass into my hand helping guide it to my mouth as I drank. I closed my eyes as the cold water traveled down my throat when I opened them again I realized I could see. The edges of my vision were blurry but I could see everything again.

I turned my head looking at Sakusa the sunlight was dying outside casting him in an orange glow. The lights in the room were off probably so my eyes didn’t suffer when I opened them. He smiled at me then one of his rare smiles and holding on to my hand before he spoke.

“Welcome back Y/n,” and suddenly those rings on our fingers felt weightless.

#haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa angst #whosaskingangst

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jj-bxby · 4 years

Text

Where Do We Go? |Chapter Three| JJ Maybank x Reader

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Chapter Summary - After the events of the party and the night before, Y/N has to continue on with her boat day with the Pogues, as well as some extra time with JJ.

gif cred @toesure

Word Count - 4.2k

A/N - thank y’all for being patient for the worlds slowest upload lol. I hope you like this chapter and lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Waking up to feel the warmth of JJ below me was not how I had expected my first morning on this island to go, if I’m being honest. But I do have to admit, it’s much nicer waking up next to a cute boy than it is waking up alone. As the events of the night replayed in my head, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit embarrassed. After he saw me be so brave on the beach while I told off Rafe, I felt small thinking of how I woke up sobbing in his arms. To be held together by a boy I hardly knew made me feel so pathetic. I hate feeling weak, and I hate showing it even more. But the way JJ held me against him, the way he spoke to me and calmed me as I was without my usual armor, that just made me feel so secure. And even though I was vulnerable when we kissed, I didn’t regret a second of it. Kissing him with my walls down meant so much more than if I were still guarding myself against the slightest potential of being hurt. And I think JJ knew that feeling.

The position we were in was intimate; half of my body was resting on him as his arms were wrapped around me, and my head nuzzled into his neck as his chin rested on top of my hair. I could hear his heartbeat in my ear and feel as his steady breath fanned over my hair. I lifted my head up a little to see JJ with his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he slept, his golden hair a mess. His usual smirk was gone, and his lashes looked long as they nearly brushed his cheek. Seriously, what is it with men having such gorgeous eyelashes? Seeing him in such a peaceful state was a stark contrast to the boy I met yesterday; the JJ who was strong and flirty and confident, if not a slight bit egocentric.

As I was in the middle of studying his face, JJ’s heavy eyelids slid open and he raised one of his hands to pass over his face as he grunted. “Morning, Y/N,” he said as he dropped his hand, grinning at me.

“Good morning,” I whispered back, shifting my gaze away from his face.

“Y/N?” I hummed in response and looked him in the eye again. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” JJ asked as his eyes searched mine.

I groaned and tucked my face back into his neck, feeling his chest shake as he laughed at my exasperation. He gently stroked my hair as he spoke. “That’s okay, how about we get breakfast first, yeah?”

I looked up at him and smiled as I nodded. “Okay, but I don’t really have any food here, yet.”

“M’kay, we’ll just head to The Wreck,” JJ said, and I raised my eyebrow at him. “The Wreck is the restaurant that Kiara’s family owns. She works there too, but I don’t think she’s got a shift today.”

“Well, it sounds pretty good to me. Especially the part about me not having to get groceries or clean up after cooking.” I sit up in the bed after peeling myself away from JJ. “Are you gonna invite the pogues?”

He looked at me and shook his head, looking down to play with the rings that adorned his fingers. “Nah, I think I’d like to just be with you this morning. Besides, we’ll see them later today when we go boating.”

I nodded silently before hopping off of the bed and walked over to my dresser, rifling through the drawers to find an outfit for the day. Even though half of my clothes were still in my suitcases, I was able to find a tank and jean shorts for the morning along with a swimsuit for the afternoon. I held my clothes for the day in my hands and turned around to see JJ peering at me from his position on the bed. “Don’t you need some clothes?” I asked him. “I mean, you slept in your stuff from last night’s party.”

JJ grinned at me, finding my concern for him oddly cute. “I’ve got some in my backpack. Y’know, the one I bring everywhere with me?”

“Ah, ready to sleepover at a girl’s house any time, huh?” I joked. I saw his smile falter for a second, and my brows knit together.

“I, uh, actually don’t do this often, even though it might seem like it.” JJ ran a hand through his hair tiredly. “I just don’t stay at my house more than I need to.I’m usually at John B’s, but I keep some clothes on me in case I stay at Kie or Pope’s place.”

I nodded somberly, knowing the feeling all too well. It was usually my car that I was in as darkness fell — not a home. I let JJ know I would be a minute as I ducked into the bathroom to change while he did the same in my room. Once we were both dressed and I’d washed my face to wake up, I dug through a suitcase to find my makeup for the day. Eventually, I ended up pulling out a compact mirror, brow gel, eyeliner, mascara, and concealer to get ready for the day as I sat on my bed to start my quick routine. Once I finished the liner flick on one of my eyes, I looked up from my mirror to see JJ staring at me in awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I honestly don’t know how you just did that so perfectly.”

I giggled at the boy’s confusion as I finished up my other eye, him clapping as I capped my liner. I shook my head and opened up the mascara, swiping it along my lashes so they stood out. I could see JJ frowning out of the corner of my eye as I continued on.

“Okay, that one looks like you’re touching your eye with the brush and I don’t like it so much,” JJ said with a grimace.

“Want me to put it on you?” I asked as I wiggled my eyebrows, smiling as he shook his head rapidly. He picked up the tiny sponge I had sitting next to me and started playing with it in his hands.

“What’s this thing for? It looks like a mix between a marshmallow and a kitchen sponge.”

“It’s for putting concealer under my eyes, it makes me look like I actually slept some. I need that after last night.” I looked up at him questioningly. “Haven’t you ever seen one of your girlfriends do their makeup or something?”

He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the sponge to me. “Haven’t had an actual girlfriend for a while, honestly. Even when I did, I never really sat with them to do things like this. I like it though. Even if makeup isn’t my thing, I like how you look when you do it. You make cute faces as you put the stuff on.”

“I do not make faces!” I said defensively, furrowing my brows.

“Yeah you do, especially with the mashra.”

“I’m sorry, the what? The mashara?” I said with a laugh.

“You know, the eyelash paint! The mashara thing,” JJ insisted as he picked up the pink tube.

“JJ, that’s mascara, not whatever the hell you called it.”

“Mashra, mascara, whatever. My point still stands, you make a cute face while you put it on and I like it.” I smiled and shook my head as he mimicked the face I had made earlier. “I just wanna watch you do this every day now.”

“Well, I’m actually pretty much done today, J. I just gotta finish doing my brows, then we can go grab breakfast. I think I can hear your stomach grumbling.”

“Did you just call me ‘J’?” I looked up from my mirror to see a grin plastered on the blonde boy’s face.

“Um, I guess I did, sorry about that.”

“No, I like it, actually. Not a lot of people call me that.”

“Well not a lot of people call me ‘Pretty Girl’, so I guess we’re even,” I said to him with a wink.

Once JJ stopped distracting me and let me finish my makeup, we were finally able to head out to The Wreck. The drive was filled with JJ’s music and muffled chatter, him telling me more about the island and his friends; about how Kie and Sarah were originally Kooks, but the Pogues took them in, how Sarah and John B were dating, that he wasn’t sure what was going on with Kiara and Pope just yet, and about how they’d all spend days on the water whenever they could. He was smiling as he spoke fondly of his friends, telling me all of the things they would do during the summer, and the pranks they would play on the Kooks. I loved the way his voice would change as the topics did, how his face would scrunch up when he laughed or spoke of something that confused him, and of course, his smirk as he told me of the time he and Pope sunk a Kook’s boat.

Eventually, we rolled to a stop once JJ had directed me to the parking lot, and we stepped out of the car, JJ coming around to take my hand to walk me into the restaurant. I hesitated for a second before grabbing hold of him, keeping pace with his long strides to enter the doors. He led us to the back of the restaurant, it was an open-air patio with the perfect view of the sea. We took our seats quickly, browsing over our menus as silence settled between us. The passing quiet was nice, not the kind that put you on edge — It was rather the opposite, actually. It was the kind of comfortable silence you’d find with someone you had known for years on end, the kind that was a conversation of its own. When I set down my menu, I looked up to see JJ staring back down at his own, his brows furrowed slightly and his lips moving slightly as his eyes drifted down the page. A grin spread across my face at the sight of the boy in front of me in such a relaxed state.

“Hey are you guys ready to order?” The waiter asked us, making JJ’s head snap up at the sound.

“Yeah, I’ll just do the scrambled eggs with a glass of orange juice, please.”

“And I’ll have the pancakes today, Mister Carrera.”

“Boy, you know you gotta pay for this today. Kiara isn’t here to talk me into giving you food today,” the man chuckled. JJ smiled and nodded, saying he’s got the check covered. Once he had walked away, I looked back to JJ.

“You might want to improve upon those staring skills if you don’t want me to see you next time,” he joked. My cheeks heated up at his words, even though I had nothing to be embarrassed for.

“Hey, who says I didn’t want you to see me. Besides, it’s hard not to stare sometimes.” I shrugged at him, stacking the small cups of creamer on top of each other, and JJ handed me a couple more. Once I finished my nearly-one-foot-tall tower, I put my hands up. “Ta-da!”

JJ just laughed at my childish excitement, now stacking the cups into a pyramid shape. “So…”

“So?”

He let out a heavy breath before meeting my eyes. “Look, Y/N, I’m not one who really pushes to talk about feelings and shit like that, but I just gotta ask if you’re okay after last night. I know you were freaked out, and I’m glad I was there for you, but do you know what happened?”

I could feel his eyes searching my face as I shuffled the sugar packets I held in my hands. I shrugged, not taking my eyes away from my hands. “I just have nightmares, is all. It happens.” I set down the packets to glance at JJ’s blue eyes. “Look, I know I’m a bit of a freakshow, okay? Waking up screaming and crying, and kissing you afterwards. Shit, I haven’t even known you for forty-eight hours yet, JJ. It’s not how I wanted my first impression to go, but I can’t really take it back. I’m okay, I just... have a lot of baggage to sort through.” I was focused on tapping my fingers together in an attempt to keep calm myself as I spoke, doing my best at keeping my voice steady. JJ nodded respectfully to me, placing his hand over my own to make me look at his eyes again.

“I know what you mean, Y/N. I don’t expect you to pour your life story out to me just yet, I don’t think I’m there yet either, honestly. But, I hope you know that I’m someone you can come to, and in time I hope you’ll realize that you have someone by your side now. I’ll be here to help you sort out anything you want, I promise.”

“You promise, huh?”

JJ hummed in response. “Of course. I also promise to take you on an actual date eventually, once you’re settled in.” I smiled at his words, blood rushing to my cheeks yet again. “If you want to, of course.”

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. “Of course I’d like to go on a date together, JJ. One that doesn’t involve any crying sounds nice.” JJ and I laughed as Mister Carrera brought out our breakfast, us parting our hands to make room for the plates. As I sipped on my orange juice, JJ stole a bite of my eggs.

“Look, you better give me a pancake for that. Stealing my food lands you on thin ice, buddy,” I said with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, one bite of egg is nowhere near equivalent to an entire pancake!” He argued. “I’ll give you a full pancake if you give me a couple more bites of egg”

“Hmph, fine. Just because your pancakes look yummy.” I slid some forkfuls of eggs onto JJ’s plate, him offering me a pancake for our trade.

“You know I only made that deal cause you’re so damn cute, right? I don’t make food trades often,” he smirked.

“Shush and eat your eggs.”

•

“So, Y/N, you ready for your first day out on the Pogue?” John B asked me as I watched Pope untie the boat from the dock. The sea was blue and salty, without much wind to create many waves. It was the perfect summer day, or as close to it as you could get.

“Yep, I am! I haven’t been out on the water in about a year, actually. I’ve missed it.”

“Did you live near the sea back on the Mainland?” Kie asked me while we sat on the floor of the boat. She was sectioning part of my hair out to braid as she spoke.

“No, not exactly. We lived near lakes, but not near the coast. It’s much different out here to the lakes, it feels a lot more serene to me,” I answered. “It feels a lot closer to the earth out here than I ever felt back home, really.”

John B started up the boat, the roar of the engine startling at first, then calm once it settled. JJ sat on one of the seats next to Pope, facing me and Kiara, and Sarah sitting with John B. “So has your gig at that dance studio started up yet, then?” He asked me.

“Not quite yet, they’re giving me about a week to settle in before I start teaching, actually. Which should be a good thing, ‘cause I have plenty of crap I need to unpack yet.” I groaned at the thought of all of the boxes piled in my new home, just waiting to be put away. “Shit, I’m gonna have to put together shelves too.”

“You want some help with that?” Pope asked me, looking around at the other pogues.

“No, you guys don’t have to help me with this stuff, it’ll just take a few days and then I’ll be done!”

JJ shook his head at me. “Why do it on your own in a few days, when you could get it all finished in one day with our help?”

Sarah clapped her hands together excitedly. “So it's settled! We’ll help you set up your house,” she proclaimed.

“Perfect! We’ll get it done in no time, Y/N,” JB grinned. I looked to JJ with glaring eyes, him shooting me a wink while he sipped on a Coke.

Kie finished up my braid as I tried to protest the help, the sound of the motor drowning me out. JJ gestured for me to take one of the seats on the bench behind me, Kie stepping up to sit alongside me. I stared off the side of the boat, mesmerised by the water’s movement. The sea water rippled around the boat as it was maneuvered from out of the dock with ease, the Pogue speeding up quickly, and cutting through the water to leave waves in its wake. I jumped slightly when we hit a wave, the boat jutting upwards suddenly and seawater misting over us all. I laughed as the water hit my face, enjoying the cool droplets against my skin. I rested back in my seat as we continued to glide through the water, John B eventually guiding the boat to a stop. JJ hopped out of his seat to toss the anchor while JB cut the engine, and Kie walked over to open up the cooler, passing out drinks to everyone. It was a mixture of beers and sodas between us all, JJ and I being the ones to opt for the sweet, fizzy drinks for the time being.

JJ took the now vacant seat beside me and pulled out a vape from his pocket to take a hit from, and I watched as the vapor swirled out of his mouth and into the air. “Have you ever been surfing, Y/N?” JJ asked once he finished his breath.

I shook my head, “Nope. I used to go canoeing and kayaking, though it was a while back. I guess those aren’t all that similar though. Why?”

Pope smiled at me. “Because the best surfer in the Outer Banks is sitting right next to you, of course.”

I swung my head to look at JJ, tilting my head. “Oh really now?”

He smirked at me, nodding. “Damn right, I am.”

“Great, Pope, you boosted his ego again,” John B said,

“Hey, I can’t help being great, you know.”

“Oh? And did you tell Y/N how you like to surf hurricanes too?” Sarah asked him.

“We all do that, though!” JJ continued on, “They make great waves, you just gotta be careful is all.” He looked to see me staring at him with wide eyes. “What? It's just like storm chasing.”

“Okay, but people who go storm chasing actually do it to, like, record data and shit like that,” I pointed out. JJ just shrugged at me.

“I was gonna offer to show you how to surf, but if you just wanna be sassy you could do that instead.”

I frowned at him. “Damn, so surfing and sassiness are mutually exclusive? I dunno if I can do it, then.”

“Hm, I guess I can excuse it for the first lesson,” he laughed. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that, JJ, but I think you’ve just got a thing for me,” I said, flipping my hair dramatically. Kie nodded at me, both of us bursting out into laughter while JJ sighed, exasperated.

“Well once we get your house put together, maybe we can go surfing, ‘kay?” I nodded smiling wildly.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hot as fuck,” Sarah said before pulling off her shorts and top. “I’m ready to get in the water.” The rest of us followed suit, sliding out of our over clothes, and getting splashed when John B jumped off into the water. I saw JJ’s toned body out of the corner of my eye as I slid off my shirt hesitantly, revealing my bikini top underneath. I saw that nearly everyone had jumped into the water as I tossed my shirt onto the pile of clothes in the corner of the boat before removing my shorts to throw aside as well.

Once I stood back up, I felt strong arms sweep under my knees and lock behind my back to pick me up from behind. I twisted to look behind me, seeing JJ’s smirk emblazoned across his face and a wild look in his blue eyes. “You had better not throw me, JJ,” I said, uneasy.

“Hold on tight, Pretty Girl,” JJ whispered in my ear, taking a few running steps to jump off the boat with me in his arms. Both of us sank under the water once we were in, having to let go of each other to swim back up to the surface. As I resurfaced, I could hear the other Pogues cheering and laughing at JJ’s antics, while he shook out his hair and swam a couple of feet over to me.

“You all good?” He asked, smiling. I nodded, telling him I was okay, and he grabbed my hand under the water, wading us over to the rest of the group.

“You’re officially initiated!” John B shouted. “One of us! One of us!” The Pogues joined in on the chant, all of us laughing as the repetitions died out. I looked around at my new friends, grinning as I realized I had the start of a new family around me.

“Alright, Y/N, since you’re a pogue now, I think we all want to get to know you a bit better, yeah?” Pope asked, looking around at everyone, stopping back at me.

“Hey, hit me with the questions.”

Sarah raised her hand jokingly, “Me first! What’s one thing you couldn’t go without? Aside from a phone, of course.”

“Ooh, I think that would probably be this little rock I keep in my bag, pretty sure it's amethyst. My mom gave it to me when I was little.”

“Oh my god, you like crystals?” Kiara squealed. “I love crystals. Oh my god, we need to keep her, guys.” I laughed at Kie’s excitement as she continued on with a new question. “What’s something that makes you angry?”

“Okay so this sounds weird, but I hate the sound of people chewing. Like, it just enrages me, and I don’t know why. Aside from that, not a whole lot really makes me angry. So long as someone isn't a dick, I’m pretty okay with most things.”

Pope went next. “What would you say is your favorite book?”

I groaned, “Do I really have to pick only one? How about a top three?”

“You’re just winning more and more points with me today, Y/N,” Pope laughed. “Sure, top three.”

I thought about it for a second before coming to a final decision, “Alright, I think it has to be the Percy Jackson books, the originals, not the second series, Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult, and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.”

“Damn, very good choices,” he said with a nod.

“You’re both nerds,” JJ snorted. “Alright, what’s your favorite food, Pretty Girl?”

“Okay, are we talking best food of all time? Favorite breakfast food? Favorite dessert? C’mon, you gotta give me some guidelines here.”

He grinned at me, “Aye, there we go! Best meal and best dessert.”

“My favorite meal has to be these barbecued meatballs that my aunt used to make, and for a dessert I’d say double chocolate cake. Screw vanilla.” JJ agreed, laughing as I went on about my hate for vanilla cake. “Look, you can make vanilla into chocolate, you can’t make chocolate into vanilla. Therefore, chocolate cakes and chocolate frosting are superior!”

I looked to John B who volunteered, “Alright, guess I’m last up! If you had a warning label on you, what do you think it would say?”

“Well the one I told JJ last night was that I’m a walking box of daddy issues, does that count?” My friends laughed, JJ’s eyes catching mine as I giggled and smiling at me.

“I guess it does!” John B cackled. “Well, I think we got a good idea of you now, Y/N. Welcome to the Pogue life.”

After a while of getting-to-know-you chatter between the group. We decided to head back onto the boat for some lunch. Once we had all climbed the ladder up to the boat, I took the empty seat next to JJ, wrapping myself in a towel as Kiara pulled out sandwiches for all of us.

“Freshly made sandwiches, for all y’all. Courtesy of The Wreck,” she said teasingly. She handed JJ and I both sub sandwiches and a bowl filled with grapes to share. We had small conversations between our bites of food, laughing and sipping drinks as we soaked up the sun. It really was the perfect day to be out on the water, and being out with good company made it even better for us all.

tags & mootuals ~ @hmspxgue @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @midnightmagicmusingsmain @ponyboys-sunsets @xlittlemissydjx @danicarosaline @pink-meringues @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @maybanksbaby @starksweasleymain @softstarkey @shawnssongs @starlightstarkey @ptersparkers @futuretaxcheat @aesthetic-lyss @anonymous0writer @outrbanks @obx-direction-sos @joshy-obx @midnightmagicmusings

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maevesdarling · 3 years

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Take me home tonight

Sooo, I decided to post chapter 1 of the story @unicorn-cloud and I have been cooking up for a while. This plays post series in an alternative universe. There’s mentions of gore and canon typical violence in both this and the second chapter, basically Walt is not dealing with things as good as he thought... I’m not sure how many chapters this story will have, probably around 3 to 4, also please be kind to me it’s been a long time since I uploaded my works to Tumblr, thx!

Chapter 1: The Call

Later, after he put his gun and badge down and moves further away from the border, Walt gets a call from an unknown number. He contemplates not picking up. It's been years since Kiki's death and operation Leyenda. He thinks, for a moment, that it could be Miguel Angel, calling him from his jail cell to taunt him, but no, he's not important enough to that man and besides, Miguel Angel doesn't wield as much power as he used to.

There are others. New players in this fucked up game, Walt knows that. He saw them rising on the horizon like a looming thunderstorm, ready to destroy the earth in it's path. But for now, he decided to enjoy his peace. His back's been bothering him more as of lately and he's got a few more grey hairs. He quit smoking about a year ago, after his doctor told him to do so. He's had a few setbacks since then, a half finished pack is always hidden underneath his kitchen sink, just in case he needs a fix. But overall, he's trying to stay away from the cigarettes and eat more healthy, even though the microwavable dinners at the supermarket look damn tempting, especially since it's only himself he's cooking for.

He's up in Colorado these days. The DEA was kind enough to leave him with a nice sum of retirement money, probably to shut him up after all the shit he pulled of during his career and to be fair he doesn't blame them.

He buys a nice enough house on the outskirts of town, with some additional property, a rundown barn and an old apple tree orchard that he has no plan on using. The weather's less hot, and there's a few lakes where he can fish, but otherwise, it's pretty much like any other town he's lived in. The dark red sandstones dotting the farmland remind him of Mexico. Of sitting in the hot sun and watching a small airfield in the distance, with a pair of binoculars in his hand. Sal's voice next to him asking about their next move. It's nostalgic in a way.

The first day, after he finished dropping off his stuff in the small, rundown house, he sets off to drive around, get familiar with the place. He finds a shabby bar, a small supermarket, a post office, a family owned diner and a few farms, with cows and hundreds of chickens roaming the surrounding fields, that sell local products. Over time, he ventures out further and discovers some more bars, supermarkets and, to his surprise, a gay club.

It's well hidden, two cities over, wedged between an antique bookstore and a barbershop. It looks nothing like a club from outside, and from the inside, it's hardly distinguishable from any other bar Walt has ever set foot in. But he knows where to look, it's something you learn over time.

The first time he orders a drink, his eyes fall on a guy sitting on the other end of the bar. Dark hair and dark eyes, with a bristly moustache. He's wearing a black cowboy hat and a jeans jacket, it's not what he would have worn. Plus he only looks a slight bit like Sal, his face is much older, more weathered from years of hard work in the sun, but it's enough for Walt to give in to his yearning.

He buys Not-Sal a drink and they fall into an easy chatter. Two hours later, Walt is driving him back to his house. Not-Sal is more experienced than Walt had thought when he starts undressing him with steady hands, his fingers touching in all the right places, he's already prepared, as if he'd been expecting this to happen, and doesn't mind it when Walt accidentally let's Sal's name slip at the height of his pleasure.

They lie together afterwards, sharing a cigarette between them, neither of them ready to leave yet. Walt is slowly falling asleep to the feeling of another person combing their hands through his hair. When he wakes up the next morning, the house is empty. There's a note on his kitchen table, a short thank you message, that's it. Next time he's at the club, Not-Sal is gone. He finds someone else. A different man, with dark hair, dark eyes and a friendly face, and then another and another. Some of the men he brings over are kind, they'll stay the night and sometimes even the morning, to share a quick meal with him before they move on, others leave almost immediately after they finish. Some of them yell out Walt's name as they come, others don't. And some yell out another man's name, but that's okay because so is Walt.

He's careful with the company he keeps. Always making sure that no one sees him leaving the club with another man, driving different routes back home and of course he's always stocking up on enough condoms because he's not stupid, he knows how important protection is.

Even though he's had a few men over, none of them return for longer than a couple of times. Its fun, to fill the mornings with senseless chatter, and to fall asleep in another person's arms. But they're not Sal.

He's longing for him. Even after all those years he's still longing for him. It's been three, almost four years since he last heard from Sal. He was moving to San Francisco. The DEA wanted someone new up there and Sal was growing tired of the shit hole they had placed him in after Mexico. They had called each other almost everyday, sometimes they would even meet each other, for a quick chat and an even quicker fuck. There was never enough time.

Sal wanted to call him back, he promised, once he was in San Francisco, to call him every day. Write a postcard. But nothing came. The telephone was silent for two whole months and Walt was desperate. First, he checked the newspapers for any missing or recently deceased people, when that search came up empty, he started to search the phone book for Sal's new address but of course that came up empty as well. He kept buying new phone books, just in case and by now, there was a small bookcase filled with old phone books in his house, and not a single one held an address for Sal Orozco. It was almost like he never exited. Only Walt's memory kept him from going insane. The fading photos on his wall, the one he kept in his wallet, next to a picture of Greg and his family. One of Sal's shirts he forgot in Walt's apartment in Texas, it had long stopped smelling of him, but nevertheless, Walt would pick it up and inhale deeply, thinking that the ghost of Sal's smell was still there, etched into the fabric. He slept with the shirt, on those nights when he woke up drenched in sweat, screaming and with a thundering heart. He wrenched his eyes open but he saw them anyway, Amat, Ossie, Danilo, sometimes even Kiki. He saw them die, he saw their bodies, bruised, burned, riddled with bullets, standing in front of his bed, he could hear them calling out his name. "You killed us, Walt." They'd point at him, blood dripping from their fingertips onto his bedsheets. Those nights were the worst. Sometimes they could only be stopped with an entire bottle of whiskey.

The dreams had gotten better since he found the dog. The dog didn't have a name. He was a stray, with dark, golden fur and dirty white paws. He picked him up on his way home from an unsuccessful night at the club, the dog was covered in ticks and fleas, one eye had been badly bruised and he was tied to a tree by the side of the road. Clearly abandoned. He expected the dog to bark at him, or worse, bite him, when he kneeled down beside him to untie him, but instead, it sat down in front of Walt and started wagging it's tail, as if he'd known Walt all his life. He took the dog in and gave it a bath, making sure that no ticks or fleas survived, before driving him to the vet the next morning to check out his eye. The vet couldn't save it and so Walt decided to take him in, just another broken thing keeping his company.

He put a collar on the dog and called him his, they slept in the same bed and sat on the couch together, watching football games and stupid action movies. The dog went fishing on the lake with him, even though he was no big help in catching the fish, he also liked to run around the orchard and sit on the front porch to sleep, and Walt liked to sit beside him and think, scratching behind his fluffy ears. Sometimes he wondered if Sal liked dogs. What he'd say if he met his dog.

The other animals were intentional. Walt bought a couple of chickens to sell their eggs at the local farm, and to keep himself busy. Then he renovated the old barn as best as he could and bought three goats to sell their meat, but once he saw them in their pen, he decided they weren't going to the slaughter house and kept them for their milk instead. He also fixed up the orchard as best as he could and started collecting the apples. Soon the onslaught of apples was too much for him to handle and so he collected them in a few boxes, along with the chicken eggs and sold them to the nearest farm. Surprisingly, the people around town started knowing him once he started visiting the farm more frequently. He would have regular conversations with some of them and at some point, even started looking forward to see them. He didn't go to the town hall meetings, or to Sunday mass, and the people had been weary of him, but once they saw him with his dog and the boxes of apples in his trunk, they warmed up to him.

He enjoyed his new life. It wasn't luxurious, but that wasn't what he wanted for himself anyway. He was no Miguel Angel. He didn't need a fleet of private planes and a couple of hotels to be happy.

The phone rang again and reminded him of his current situation. The dog had stopped wagging it's tail on the couch beside him and was looking at him with his one eye, almost as if he was saying "what are you waiting for?"

And so Walt picked up the phone, fully expecting Jamie or Ed or someone else from the DEA to yell at him to get his ass back to Mexico.

"Hello... is this Walt Breslin?" The phone slipped from his grasp and fell, he caught it in his suddenly sweaty palms, pressing the shell back against his ear. Three years silence could not erase the memory of that voice. Hushed conversations between them, hiding behind a parked car as they watched over a suspect, a gasp and then a low moan, while Walt kept hitting that one spot inside him, that set Sal's body on fire, a chatty conversation over two mugs of steaming coffee in a diner that ended with both of them laughing hysterically. Walt had enough memories for an entire lifetime with that voice, he would recognize it anywhere.

"Sal-" He breathed, rearranging the phone against his ear.

"Is- Walt is that you? Oh my god- fuck- I found you!" There was a short pause on the other end of the phone and for a moment Walt thought he was imagining things, then Sal's voice returned. "I- I'm sorry, Walt. I'm so sorry-" He sobbed, apologizing over and over.

"Sal- How did you find me? Wh- Are you alright? Is- do you need help?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Walt. I am. I just- fuck- I missed you so much. Where are you? I called you're old address so many times- I thought something happened to you…"

"Shh, I'm okay. I'm in Colorado. Small town near Denver. I'll give you the address… That is… If you want me to…"

"Yes! I mean... yes I want- I want to see you. If that's okay. I need to- need to know you're okay."

He contemplated with himself wether to ask this or not, but in the end, Walt did it anyways. "It's been three years, Sal. Why did you never call? What's changed?" Another sobb from the other end of the line. "I'll tell you. In person. Friday? Is that okay for you?" Walt squinted at his calendar. Friday was in two days, he needed to clean the house, buy some groceries and pack the car for Sunday's apple delivery.

"Yeah, Friday works."

"Alright. I'll see you on Friday… Walt… I missed you."

"… Missed you too Sal."

He put the phone down slowly, feeling like he was still in a dream. The dog had noticed something was off about his behavior and was staring at him in concern. " 's alright bud, I'm just… surprised, is all. We'll meet a friend of mine on Friday. I hope you'll like him…"

Lost in his thoughts, Walt began his evening routine, closing the chicken pen, checking on the goats and refilling the dogs food in case he got hungry during the night, only when the brown cibbles hit the kitchen tiles did he notice his thoughts slipping off. The only thing on his mind was Sal. Sal with his kind face and the warm, dark brown eyes, Sal wrapping an arm around his hips and pulling him closer, Sal whispering into Walt's ear. A hushed love confession neither of them dared to talk about. So, so many memories they shared between them, how was he supposed to wait any longer to see him again?

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

#narcos mexico #walt breslin #sal orozco #My writing #fingers crossed I find the time to finish chapter 2 soon

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bngtanah · 4 years

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Red Lips: Love Galore | JK (m)

summary: “Red Lips Always Lie.” Jungkook was the type of guy your parents always warned you about. Handsome, charming and not to be trusted.

pairing: Jungkook x Named!Reader genre: angst, smut words: 4.5k chapters: o1| o2| warning: fuccboi!jungkook, smut, black!reader, dirty talk, honestly its just pure filthy, over-stimulation, public sex, bathroom sex, barely a plot, like honestly just a thread of plot, angst, a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

Month Two: Love Galore Should've never gave you my number I did it with you Should've never let you hit it I split it with you I regret it

Despite the reassurance of her friends, Baby was not, in fact, loving the bar they had settled on occupying for the night. The live band was annoying her, the hordes of seemingly hipster fans they drew in for the night were less that amiable and apparently all of them were freakishly tall; judging by the amount of times she’d been elbowed in the back of her head without even a small apology. A complaint was ever present on the tip of her tongue from the moment they entered the building but she held back for the sole fact that her closest friend, the birthday girl, seemed to be enjoying herself.

That could just be due to the fact that June was a more content person than Baby. She was laid back, easygoing and even if she wasn’t having the best time, there was no way you’d be able to tell just by looking at her face, especially not now while she laughed loudly, all 32 of her pearly white teeth gleaming, at something someone’s date had said along with the rest of the group.

Baby sniffed, adjusting her top and bringing a bottle of beer to her mouth. She hadn’t really been paying attention to anything anyone was saying, her attention focused solely on watching her watch and counting the hours that had passed since Jungkook said he was on his way. For that past month and a half they had been seeing each other pretty regularly. ‘Seeing’ meaning that they spent the better part of every weekend locked up in her apartment or Jungkook’s taking turns making each other orgasm until exhaustion overtook them.

They’d watch movies, talk (mostly about Baby) and sometimes order takeout but the night always ended the same basic way; with Baby face down in a mattress, struggling to keep her back arched as Jungkook took her from behind with no mercy. Then once they were both satisfied he would leave, or she would go home and wait for the routine to begin again the following weekend. It was uncomplicated and exactly what Baby thought she needed. Though honestly, the lack of depth was beginning to eat away at her. As hard as Baby's wished she could be she knew she was a softy at heart who craved attention and concern, so having Jungkook actually show up with her tonight was kind of a big deal.

Her friends still hadn’t met him, despite the amount of time she spent talking about him. Whenever she invited him out with her, there was always something else that came up. He had to work late, or deal with a family emergency or sudden illness that rendered him incapable of leaving his apartment. The excuses upset Baby at the moment but he always seemed to find a way to remedy her anger by showing up at her apartment later in the night. All pressing excuses suddenly resolved for the remainder of the time it took for him to get himself off then, almost magically, the excuses popped up again whenever Baby made the rookie decision of asking if he was staying for the night or attempting to cuddle against him once they were both sated and out of breath.

Baby flinched and immediately reached for her cellphone when Jungkook’s text message came in, fighting to urge to roll her eyes at him asking her to meet him outside without actually SAYING ‘come outside’. She stood to her feet anyway and tried to hide the excitement in her voice when she announced to the table of her peers that she would “Be right back.”

“So when are we going to tell her to stop messing with this dude? Before or after she’s so dickmatized she lets him move in?” June, the birthday girl perked up once Baby was out of earshot.

“If we’re trying to prevent her being dickmatized, I think it’s too late,” Demi chimed in from across the table “We all know the signs and Baby is beyond help.”

“They've been together for, what? A month? No dick is that good” Lisa grumbled into drink.

“You'd be surprised” June countered, looking forlornly at the entrance of the bar “.... You'd be surprised… “

In Front.

“Jungkook!” Baby waved as she jogged a few feet down the block “I didn't think you'd make it-”

She never quite got to finish her sentence, the second Baby was within arms reach Jungkook's hands were all over. His burly arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. Before she had a chance to question his actions, soft red lips were on hers in the few seconds it took Baby to raise her head. Passionate and unyielding, his kiss engulfed Baby, giving her no choice but to relent and match his efforts. Her arms wrapped around his torso and held him close to her in a vice grip, she could feel him smile against her lips then smooth both his hands down her back until they were both gripping her ass and kneading the plump flesh there as if she were nothing more than a piece of clay.

In a sense she mostly was, each time he put his hands to work on her body Baby became like putty in his grasp. She felt his lips pull back from her own and almost found herself frowning at their absence until she felt him dip down and suction her neck in the exact spot that made her toes curl. Her fingernails pushed into his back and Baby's eyes flew open wide when she felt his right hand move from her ass to grabbing her upper thigh and then vanishing under the hem of her skirt to stroke her from behind.

Immediately Baby put her hands against his chest and pushed him backwards. Or, she attempted to. He was six feet of solid muscle compared to Baby's shorter, much less toned frame so all her push managed to do was make him stop attempting to push her thighs apart further.

"Um...so Hi?" Baby croaked out once she'd managed to move his hands.

"Hey Baby…I missed you" Jungkook replied and moved forward to kiss her again. Baby stopped him this time, pressing her finger against his lips and guided his head backwards.

"So, Maybe you're confused, but I didn't ask to come out with me so you could finger me outside the club!" Baby complained a hushed whisper and attempted to move away but Jungkook's grip on her remained steady.

"C'mon, no one is even paying attention to us" He whispered back and placed another kiss along her jaw. Baby looked to her left and then right and groaned softly when she noticed that he wasn't wrong. There was hardly anyone on the sidewalk and the doorman who kept guard over the entrance seemed to have conveniently disappeared.

"That's not the point," Baby retorted taking a step back when Jungkook's hold on her waist went slack "I want you to meet my friends, I wanted to have some fun with you outside of a bedroom for once."

Jungkook snickered and shrugged, allowing Baby to loop her arm around his bicep and pull him forward. It seemed like you were having fun already," he grinned and quirked an eyebrow upwards as he brought a glistening finger up to his mouth, humming with delight when he sealed his lips around the digit.

"You're digust- !" Baby exclaimed as she attempted to drag him forward, ignoring the jolt of electricity strike down her spine when he only laughed and smacked his palm harshly against her ass when she moved in front of him.

Baby could hardly contain the pleased grin that spread across her face as she led Jungkook back inside the building. She caught the attention of her friends when they were a few feet from their table, their eyes drifted from Baby to her arm linked with Jungkook then upwards to Jungkook then back down to Baby again.

"So Guys..." Baby practically gushed when they were seated again "This is Jungkook! Jungkook This Is Lisa, Demi, And June - She’s the birthday girl." Baby announced and pointed towards them respectively as she said each of their names. Her excitement was palpable and not nearly as reciprocated on either end. Jungkook was the first to offer a short "’Sup, Happy Birthday" His lips curling up into a playful smile that made Baby's friends grimace slightly. It was a smile they had all seen at one point in their lives and recognized all too well.

June finally broke the silence and extended her hand forward, encouraging the other two to follow her example. “Thanks. Its nice to finally meet the famous Jungkook, am I saying that right? Juunngkook?” June was slightly tipsy but not drunk enough to cause her words to slur and Baby cringed inside knowing that she was probably stressing his name purposefully. Though Jungkook seemed to take it in stride, chuckling softly at the unnecessary syllables added to his name.

“Yeah that’s close enough, Juuune” he replied with a sly smirk before smacking his palms against the surface of the table and tapping rhythmically. “Since it’s your birthday, how about a round of shots on me?” He didn’t wait for an answer before pushing back from his seat and made eye contact with Baby, jerking his head in the direction of the bar.

“I’m, uh gonna help him with the glasses” Baby said with a soft smile as she trailed behind him and eventually caught up. Once she reached the Jungkook was already seated with two large shot glasses in his hands.

“Baby! Do a shot with me,”

"This looks like more than just one" Baby noted with a grin but took the glass anyway.

"It's a double, I thought you wanted to have fun tonight?" Jungkook asked with a toothy grin before clinking their glasses together and counting backwards from 3. Baby immediately threw her head back on the count of one and puckered her entire face as the alcohol burned down her throat. It took a few seconds for her to open her eyes again and notice that Jungkook's glass was still completely full.

"Jungkook, what the hell!" She complained and playfully tapped his shoulder. "Why buy a shot if you're not going to drink it?"

"I'm going to…" He replied with an indecipherable smile "But I wanna do something first, move your hair outta the way."

"Baby raised an eyebrow at first but eventually did what she was asked, grabbing a large clump of her hair and moving it to the opposite side of her neck. It wasn't until she noticed him coaxing a wedge of lime between her lips that Baby fully understood what was happening. She scoffed a small laugh when Jungkook asked her to close her eyes but did it anyway and flinched slightly when the familiar feeling of his tongue against her neck hit her. He licked a stripe up the side of her neck then gingerly sprinkled a waterfall of salt over the slick area.

"You ready?" Jungkook asked in a seductive whisper and Baby felt his arms pull her closer so that she was slotted between his open legs.

"It's just a body shot Jungkook, why are you so dramatic?" Baby giggled, her eyes still shut. She blindly reached forward until she could feel his shoulders to rest her hands.

Tension bubbled up and compounded with every second that passed, Jungkook's free hand smoothly moved over her thighs then across her stomach until finally settling on her hips. Heat emanated off his skin making Baby feel oddly suffocated as she felt him move closer, his nose moving slowly up and down against her pulse exhaling warm breath over her throat before placing a few tentative licks on her skin. Then suddenly he pressed his tongue flat against the area of her neck that was covered with salt. His lips attached to the sliver of skin just underneath her earlobe, he suckled gently wrapped his arm completely around Baby's hips to press their lower bodies flush against each other.

Baby whimpered as she felt the capillaries under her skin burst when he detached his lips. In one fluid motion Jungkook swallowed the clear liquid and immediately moved forward to retrieve the lime from Baby's lips. He wrapped his lips around the green fruit slowly, applying pressure and slurping the small amount of juice that tempted to fall from her lips. Their lips barely touched and Baby found herself gripping Jungkook's shoulders tighter the more he sucked and brushed his lips against her own.

Soon the lime was forgotten, snatched from Baby's mouth and tossed into the empty shot glass beside them. Jungkook attacked Baby's lips and she tried not to smile too much as she found herself being pulled closer to Jungkook but she soon gave up that fight as his fingers trailed over her skin. Their lips melded together and Baby felt something stir in her that she was sure she’d never felt before. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him even closer until she found herself being lifted up slightly and turned so her back was pressed against the edge of the bar. It was slightly uncomfortable but Baby didn’t really seem to mind, if the way she grinned for a few seconds and returned to kissing Jungkook was any evidence.

Baby had never really been an extroverted person, she wasn't shy by any means but she preferred to keep to herself on most occasions. So doing something like this? Making out with someone right up against a bar surrounded by other people was not in her wheelhouse. She didn't know what it was but there was just something about Jungkook that made her want to take risks. Do things she never imagined she would do. Like ask him to press her against the nearest wall and take her right then. Which is something she was seriously considering.

Her mind cleared of the hazy fog once she felt Jungkook's hands maneuvering over her body then holding on to her ass just the way they were outside on the sidewalk. She could tell what he wanted so desperately to feel his hands on, well one of the areas. A possessive growl vibrated against her throat and shook her directly to her core making Baby moan gently in response arch her body more fully against Jungkook's teasing hands. “Touch me” she murmured against him and then kissed him again.

Jungkook smiled against her lips and immediately responded by standing up and gently guiding Baby backwards until she felt her back hit a wall. They were somewhat secluded, in a corner just off from the bar where there wasn't much foot traffic. Jungkook wasted no time in obliging Baby's request by heisting her left leg high up on his waist and running his hand along the underside of her thigh. His hips instinctively flexed forward and they both groaned simultaneously as the bulge in his jeans pressed against Baby's core. Jungkook exhaled a shuddering breath against her cheek and Baby fought back the urge to reach for the zip of his jeans.

Her ankle hooked around his leg instead, to keep it in place while his hand massaged it's way up the inside of her thighs. Baby's breath caught in her throat when she felt his hand tease the sensitive nub between her legs and she barely contained the moan that tickled the back of her throat as his lips moved against the skin of her neck.

Her leg wrapped tightly around his waist once she felt the fabric of her thin underwear being pushed out of the way and Baby groaned against his lips. She was slightly worried about drawing attention to them but then his ring finger slid past her damp entrance and Baby moaned with urgency. She clawed at a few inches of hair at the back of his neck, roughly tugging and pulling him forward until he was snugly fitted into the space of her neck and clavicle. Wet kisses trailed over her flushed skin and Baby pressed both of her palms against the wall for a moment just to steady her stance when a second then third finger entered her and the pad of his thumb ground down harshly against her clit.

A gentle whimper tumbled from her lips at his tentative strokes which were then followed by a satisfied groan once his fingers began moving in earnest inside her. Her hips shot forward and took on a life of their own, gingerly rocking themselves up, down and in tight circles against his fingers. Baby was glad for the fact that she didn’t have to subtly direct him like she usually did with men who had little to no idea what they were doing. He knew exactly where and how to suck on her skin, how much pressure to apply, when to toy with her clit and when to assail her walls with his fingers. He played her like an instrument and despite her best efforts to last any longer, Baby knew it was futile. She was going to come. Hard. She gripped his hair tighter and her hips started to pump in time with his strokes of their own accord.

“SHIT, Jungkook” she whispered. “Oh, God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop." She continued to beg him while his fingers played with her velvet soft walls, his thumb applied more pressure to her clit, and that was the final straw. Baby's eyes slammed shut, her back arched off the pulsating walls of the club, and she wrapped her leg around his thigh even tighter. She shouted his name, not caring if anyone around them heard her falling to pieces at Jungkook's hands. She slowly released her stranglehold on Jungkook and her head rested against the concrete wall behind her, breathing heavily.

A ragged breath tore away from Jungkook's throat, his hand slamming forcefully against the wall next to Baby's head. He pressed his forehead against Baby's and guided her hips forward again, his erection firm and strained as he pressed himself into Baby once more. "God, I wanna fuck you so bad right now," He muttered on her lips, capturing them in another sloppy kiss. His hands tightening their grasp on her waist line "I need to be deep inside you, Baby please" Jungkook pleaded and Baby didn't have it in her heart to ignore his tortured gasps and the pained expression on his face. Her hands firmly clutched the sides of his neck and her thighs trembled when he rolled in his hips forward in a languid and tortuously slow stroke and freely moaned into her mouth.

"Bathroom, 10 minutes."

It took everything in Baby to back away and shuffle out of Jungkook's arms. The shot she took earlier was finally beginning to hit her bloodstream, making her grasp the edge of the bar to steady herself for a moment. Her legs were still far from stable and with every step Baby felt like her knees would buckle. After taking a few seconds to recoup she managed to get a round of shots ordered for her table, using Jungkook's tab and allowing one of the bartenders to deliver the tray along with a birthday message. She thought about going back to her friends, at the very least letting them know that she probably wasn't going to be coming back that night. As she took a step towards her table, Baby's phone buzzed in her back pocket; it was a photo of Jungkook shirtless, his jeans unzipped just enough to free his erection from its denim prison. His hand wrapped firmly around the base of his length and Baby groaned when she read the message attached: 'Please'.

She moved at a breakneck towards the bathroom and the second they were both behind closed doors Jungkook rested his hands on her waist pulled her lips to his and led her back further into the bathroom, deepening the kiss as they took each step. She wanted—needed— him to be inside her so badly that it actually hurt. Her body ached for him in ways that made Baby feel crazed. Once they finally made it against the furthest wall, he didn’t waste any time turning her around so Baby’s back was facing him. His hands ran up and down her bare legs and yanked her damp panties down her smooth legs before he slapped her ass hard, the smacking noise of his action bouncing off the bathroom walls. He stuck her ass out further to him and pushed her skirt up her waist as he guided his cock to her slick entrance, making Baby shiver as his engorged head pushed through her narrow lips, her breath caught in her throat as his cock sunk fully inside of her.

“Jesus, why do you have such a nice pussy?” He breathed against her shoulder. He took a slow yet shaky breath, pulling his cock out from her cunt slowly one last time. He planted his feet firmly, digging his fingertips into her golden brown skin. He then began to pound his stiff length hard into her cunt, showing no mercy as usual. “You’re so fucking tight, Baby. So fucking good.” Jungkook groaned, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling.

His girth filled her completely, almost to the point of not fitting. “Uhh!” She cried out, her palms pressing tightly against the tiled walls of the bathroom, slowly winding her hips backwards with his as he began to thrust in and out. She chuckled breathlessly when his breath fanned over her shoulder “You like this tight pussy?” She moaned and whipped her head around to smirk at him, her deep brown tresses sweeping off her shoulder as she did.

“I fucking love this tight pussy,” Jungkook pressed his lips against her ear, gnawing at her earlobe tenderly. "I want to live in your walls Baby" He groaned vigorously driving his hips against her, continuing his hot assault on her soaked sex. Every stroke made her walls tense, greedily trying to keep his slick pole nestled deep inside of her. Baby was sure that she’d have trouble walking properly after this encounter, but she’d live. “Oh God…” She moaned, arching her back to take his every thrust “Such a fucking fat cock…filling me up so good,” She whined, resting one of her hands on top of his as he continued to thrust into her.

Baby felt a small bubble of laughter almost slip out of his mouth when she whined about his cock. He licked his bottom lip, then grinned. He seized both of her hands and held them behind her back. “This fucking fat cock happens to enjoy filling you up so good, babygirl.” He kissed behind her ear. He clasped her hands together behind her with one hand as the other one slid down between her legs, pressing his fingers down on her swollen clit. His fingers rubbed quickly over the slippery nub, pounding his cock faster into her hot slit. "Cum when I tell you to" Jungkook growled against her skin.

Each dirty word he spoke made her hotter and wetter. She panted hard, trying to catch her breath between his forceful thrusts. As much as she second guessed her relationship with Jungkook , Baby could never deny that anyone else had made her this wet and turned on in a very long time. She wanted to deny it, but there was something about him…in some weird way he was becoming intoxicating to her. His voice, his features, his incredible ability to fuck her senseless…she was almost disappointed that they were out instead of in one of their homes knowing that neither of them could go as wild as they wanted to. He was a perfect fit inside her. The soft sucking noises of his length pulling in and out of her lips was the sexiest thing she ever heard…next to his voice.

As his hand travelled began fiercely rubbing her exposed clit Baby moaned loudly. She knew she wouldn't last much longer like this. Her eyelids slammed shut and Baby felt her knees begin to buckle beneath her as her walls began to constrict around him, pulsing. A simple instruction growled from above her broke her resolve to hold out any longer. “Cum for me, Baby” Jungkook demanded and Baby felt herself fly off the edge. As the heated seconds passed, the pulsing intensified until a fantastic sensation erupted inside of her. “Fuck!” She cried out, her head dropping back and her chestnut colored hair splaying over her shoulders as her walls spasmed hard, bathing Jungkook's probing length in a warm flood of her essence.

He latched his mouth to the gap of her neck and shoulder, sinking his teeth down into her overheated flesh, welcoming the rush of her sweet juices when she came. Despite her throbbing walls growing tight around his shaft, he kept on his fast-moving pace, bucking furiously between her legs. Baby flexed against his arms, trying desperately to free herself from the over-stimulation but it was futile. She groaned with a hoarse scream when she felt her walls spasm again and while she shook vigorously against his body Jungkook knew he was done for. “Shit!” He growled, stilling inside of the brown-skinned beauty. He gripped hard onto her hips, his cock trembling inside of her dripping cunt, spilling his release inside of her. Her pulsating walls still tightened around him, milking every last drop of his seed from his swollen tip, as a large satisfied smile emerged on his face. “Do you… do you wanna come back to my place tonight?” He asked, pulling back until he was no longer inside her. Choosing instead to encircle his arms around her waist. He buried his face in her neck and closed his eyes. Baby leaned back and rested her arms on top of his, using him for leverage as the bones in her legs felt like jelly.

"It's one in the morning Jungkook, I'm not taking a taxi all the way back to Harlem a couple of hours later" Baby sighed, reaching her arms backward to wrap her arms around his neck and Jungkook smirked, kissing the curve of her shoulder. He began a trail of soft kisses up from her shoulder to behind her ear.

"Then stay over, you're off tomorrow right?"

It was stupid; she knew it was but Baby couldn't stop herself from feeling elated at his very basic offer. It was the very first time he'd ever shown any interest in being with after they were done having sex. Obviously his offer was simply a prelude to them doing the same thing at his apartment once again but still.

It was a start.

Back at the table of friends June looked over to the other two girls and sighed. “She's not coming back is she?”

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x woc #bngtanah #red lips #☆

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 14: No Call No Show

Characters: Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: We find out where Shane went Monday after work and exactly why she hasn’t been responding to any attempts at communication…and unfortunately, she’s not just taking some “me time.”

Want to reminisce about when this was just a happy little fluffy romance? Return to chapters past, or look at my other smutty drabbles here!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: SHANE FIGHTS BACK, BUT DEFINITELY GETS HER ASS KICKED, SO FAIR WARNING, IT’S VIOLENT. Language, mature themes, emotional abuse, mention of narcotics (morphine), vomiting, foreshadowing and mention of potential future violent/non-con/dub-con activities, but if those acts occur, they will not be portrayed on the page, but rather between chapter or section breaks, so don’t worry. Also, I use the “R” word, but not to discuss non-con, but rather to add an educational note about why one should yell “fire” when one is being assaulted. Basically no Sy material whatsoever, but he’s mentioned, so I’m tagging it as such! Shane being somewhat blasé about her mortality. I really don’t want to trigger anyone, so please read with caution or wait until you emotionally are ready to deal with our girl going through the shit.

Author’s Note: Really REALLY nervous about this one. This is not the resolution you are looking for, my friends. In fact, it’s not a resolution, at all. Lol. I foresee many people disliking this chapter for some reason or another. That’s actually okay. It’s not a chapter you’re meant to “like” per se. I don’t “like” it. I’m prepared for it to get very few notes, and I’m positioning it anyway. I think it’s some of my better writing, but I hated putting Shane through the ringer like this. It’s just one of those chapters you “get through.” And honestly, if you truly didn’t like it please give me feedback so I can improve and tweak. {For reasons other than “My beebeeeeee!” or “never mention anything less than consensual ever again kthxbye” because a) of all, MY beebee too, and b) of all, that’s what warnings are for and why they should be read.} That being said, I hope it at least tides you over until the next chapter. At least you know where she is…not that THAT’S a big relief under the circumstances! Lol!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Previously, in Virginia…

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. "

"I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her."

Three days earlier, in Missouri…

Shane blinked her eyes open to little avail. She couldn't tell where she was, other than what seemed to be the back seat of a fairly new-model large vehicle, like a Suburban or a Tahoe. She thought it was new because the new car smell was still overpowering the nicotine and tobacco odor of at least one of its occupants. She could also smell the sickly sweet stench of artificial cherry permeating the cabin. The source must be very close to her nose as she lay there helplessly restrained while the vehicle jostled down the road. The smell reminded her of the horrible liquid pain reliever her mother would give her as a child when she had a fever or leg pains. She had taken enough of it then to make her averse to most cherry flavorings as an adult. She wanted to retch.

She could also make out the faint glow of a dashboard lit with LED lights, brighter and softer than those of older models. But she soon had to shut her eyes again. Her head was throbbing and her memories were fuzzy. She remembered very little of Monday…was it still Monday? But she was trying to think, despite the pounding of many drums in her cranium where a brain should be.

She remembered staying at work late to finish notes. She remembered heading home…and she remembered forgetting her phone at her desk and deciding to turn around to get it…when suddenly she was surrounded by vehicles and unable to move without having an accident. Had she known the circumstances then, she would have tried to muscle through. The horrific events came flooding back in traumatic flashes like lightning, or the pulse of passing streetlights in an unfamiliar city.

She remembered…

The glass by her left ear shattered. A hooded, hulking figure reached in through the new opening, fumbling for the handle to open the door. She'd had the presence of mind to fight back there. To punch at the probing extremity. But the extremity hit back, landing a solid smack against her left cheek, stunning her for long enough that the cruel apparition found the unlock button, pressed it, and opened the door. She didn't go quietly. She fought like the hellcat her mother always told her to be. Her foot found the odd solar plexus and groin before enough dark nemeses arrived to overpower her. They dragged her away from her car and out onto the pavement of the church parking lot she'd used to turn around. She did not make it easy for them. She kicked and punched and tried to twist out of their grips like vices. She yelled "fire" as she was taught as a young woman, not knowing the men's intentions, but certain they weren't kind, and knowing that yelling "rape" was not always effective at summoning help. Either way, it didn't matter. She could have shouted anything. No one was near enough, or cared enough, to come to her aid. As soon as her soft hands hit the gritty pavement, though, the violence intensified. She lost count of how many times she got kicked in the back, stomach, ribs. One asshole even kicked her in the tit. She'd find out who that was and he'd find himself in a special brand of pain…if she ever got out of this alive. She heard them calling her awful names that she was sure she hadn't earned, and especially not from these guys. About six of them, she thought. She hardly knew six guys. She certainly didn't know six guys that would want her roughed up like this. She heard one of the men start to say "Come on, guys, we better save some for--" and with that, she blacked out to the tune of the distinct "thunk" of a wooden baseball bat making contact with the back of her head.

She wanted to forget…for it to be a terrible nightmare…to wake up.

But she was awake. This was a waking nightmare. The cold leather on her cheek was made colder by the harsh air conditioning blowing toward her from above and below. She shivered from the chill and from the terror she was trying to suppress. Where were they taking her? For what purpose? And for whom were they leaving parts un-bruised…though it didn't feel like it.

She finally felt them slowing, heard a turn signal clicking, the courtesy of which she applauded despite her position in the active abduction taking place, and felt the gentle displacement of her body toward the driver side, knocking her head into the door. A right turn. Not that it would matter too much, but at least when she escaped, and she made herself think "when" and not "if," she would know which direction to turn to get back to town.

The blow to the head had left her sensitive to light and sound. As she was yanked from the back seat, all she could see was the glow of a dusk to dawn light above them. Normally a soft, guiding light, this one just as well have been the sun itself the way it stung her tender eyes. She squinted against it, thankful as she never would have thought to be, when a shroud was placed over her throbbing head. She could still hear the power coursing through the bulb and fixture, though. Normally a dull hum, in the state she was in, it was as loud as accidentally switching your TV to the snow channel at full volume.

"Bring 'er inside." She heard an unfamiliar male voice say.

Two strong, ruthless hands grabbed her by the armpits, causing her to cry out in pain. Such a tender place to bear weight, and why even big strong Sy hated crutches…Sy. Would she ever see him again?

"Shut up, bitch, or we'll knock you out again." She believed them, and being fairly certain she had at least a mild concussion, she wasn't sure what a second blow of an indeterminate velocity might do to her brain. She dealt with the stabbing pain as the men dragged her across what sounded like gravel, then grass, then something hard and smooth, maybe the slabs of an old, sunken, and somewhat uneven footpath. Soon, she felt the pain of her knees hitting what she assumed were porch steps. One, two, three of them. She was trying to concentrate through the fog now setting in, and maintain consciousness. Paying attention to the sensations, she told herself, was not only helpful for that task, it might help her escape. Remember the scents, too, she reminded herself. She tried to shake off the nauseating cherry and cigarette stench from her olfactory glands and take note of the bouquet around her.

Burnt leaves…gasoline…engine grease…the tang of sappy, just cut firewood…straw…manure…this seemed to be a farm. With a barn nearby…perhaps with horses. She loved horses. If she could find a gentle horse in the night…escape might be easier than she'd anticipated.

Entering the house was a noisy affair. There was a metallic keening from the spring of an aluminum screen door. She imagined it had one of those big swirly cross beams like her grandma's used to have that she always though was supposed to resemble a butterfly. A heavier, wooden door creaked open as the three figures muddled their way in, and the floorboards protested, as well, at the weight of her captors. So, she thought, not only a farm house, but an old farm house.

"Where do you want her?" the man on her left asked into what she only knew as the void, so far.

"Take her to the cellar. I've got things set up down there." a familiar voice chuckled and growled. How did she know the voice? Was he a patient? She couldn't think of anyone she'd treated that would want her abducted and brutalized.

"You got it, E." Ugh, for some reason it bothered her when guys referred to each other by their first initials. Girls, no big deal. But bros…there was something so thoroughly douchey and…familiar about it all…

"Hold on." the man called "E" said, and she heard footfalls approaching her. As he got closer, she smelled…patchouli and incense…and the sea…and it brought back a rush of pain from past trauma followed by literal pain from his punch to her gut. She hadn't been expecting it. Obviously. The wind had been taken out of her. Literally and figuratively. She did know this man…all too well.

"We've got some catching up to do, sweetheart." the pet name dripped like venomous honey from the tongue of the snake before her.

"Elliot." it wasn't a question. She coughed the name out like a pill that had gone down sideways.

Her escorts continued their transportation of her prone body to its destination…she didn't want to think FINAL destination, but the more she learned about her situation, the more she worried that she wouldn't make it out alive.

They had to get creative in carrying her down the narrow staircase to the cellar. They argued for a moment about who would take the top half and who would go backwards.

"How about the one who takes my top half goes forward and the bottom half goes backward?" These idiots. Where did Elliott find clowns like this who needed to be told by their prisoner the best way to sort out their domestic dispute.

She thought she felt them shrug, and silently take her advice as she felt herself being lowered down the stairs, feet first, panic threatening to overtake her restrained limbs.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they stood her up to remove her shroud, and cut the zip ties from around her ankles and wrists. She then noticed a small cell that reminded her of the ones in the sheriff's offices in some westerns she'd seen. She started to freak out, anticipating her future in that horrid place.

"Guys, please. No. Please don't do this. I don't know what Elliott's told you about me, but I'm a good person. I don't deserve this. I have a job and friends and a family who will worry sick about me. I am begging you to let me go. Please!"

"You're wasting your breath, lady." one of the men said, gruffly.

"PLEASE!" she appealed, desperate to get through. "Don't you guys have wives or girlfriends? Mothers, sisters, aunts, or female cousins? What if a woman you cared about was in this situ---" and before she could finish the question, one of the men punched her for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. She fell to her knees, vomiting. And the world went black again.

~~~~~~~

There were no windows. There was no clock. There was just a small twin mattress in one corner of the cell, and a bedside commode in the other. As accommodations went, it was hardly a Hilton, but it could have been worse. It was all lit by a 60-watt bulb in one of those hanging fixtures her dad had always called a trouble light situated on a hook on the side of one of the exposed joists outside the cell. He'd had a similar one for the longest time. He and mom will be worried sick before long, if they aren't already, she thought. The light was aptly named for these circumstances she was in. Trouble. A heap of it. And no idea of how to get out of it.

And honestly, no idea why Elliott would want her here. How he could do such a monstrous thing as having her kidnapped. How he came to live in this place when he never worked a day in his life. She was so confused. She hoped at the very least, he'd give her answers before he murdered her, if that was his plan.

She had woken up on her side, almost her stomach, with her right cheek on the scratchy surface of the bare mattress. Whoever put her to bed had been wise to position her like this given the likelihood that she might puke again. She noticed a small bucket, presumably for that purpose, next to the mattress. There was a caseless pillow next to her head, but she hadn't found that comfort during her nap of…she couldn't tell how long. Not that it mattered. The more she slept, the less time she'd have to process this horror movie she was currently living out.

She heard the door open at the top of the stairs and Elliott shout at one of his flunkies, "What do you MEAN you didn't get her phone?" a pause while indistinct words came from said flunky across the room, or maybe the house. "Well, find it. Tear that piece of shit Explorer apart if you have to. I want that phone." She took exception to her sweet little Norah getting called a piece of shit. That was her Millennium Falcon. And yes, she'd gotten flack for naming her Norah the Explorer, but she didn't care.

Elliott stomped down the stairs, grinning the most infuriatingly happy grin she'd ever seen on him. She wanted to maul him. To tear those stupid eyes out of their sockets with her own fingernails. But she controlled her anger and resisted even acknowledging his greeting of "Hey, sweetheart."

She ignored him.

"It's good to see you."

Silence.

"I missed you."

She stared right through him.

"I heard you and that meat head soldier broke up."

She scowled at him.

"There she is. There's my girl."

"I'm not your girl, Elliott, and I haven't been in years. Why am I here?" She broke. She couldn't take it.

"We'll get to that why soon enough. First, let's talk about why you and Cap'n Crunch are no longer breakfasting together? Soggy cereal? Limp toast? Was he letting you leave the table unsatisfied?"

"As if you ever satisfied me when we were together." She spat back, calling Elliott out on his notorious selfishness in all aspects of life and relationships.

"I've changed."

"Bullshit." she rolled her eyes.

"It's true!" he insisted. "I can give you references."

"I honestly don't give a shit. We're not together. Sy and I are. Happily. And you better let me go soon. He was expecting me at his place after work. He's probably out looking for me right now." she lied. It was worth a shot.

"Now it's my turn to call bullshit, because I know that isn't true." He looked at her with that patronizing stare he had.

"You don't know shit, Elliott."

"I know that your boy took off over a week ago for Virginia and hasn't come back, at least not the way he left. I believe he's supposed to be gone at least a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. He wasn't sure at last report."

She was literally willing him to burst into flames before her. Her gaze revealed her hand.

"Told ya. You think you're the only one with connections at the fort? I've got me a sweet little sergeant who works in ATC over there. She can out-squat anyone else on base…and let me tell you, it shows." he lifted his eyebrow, lasciviously.

"You disgust me."

"Why? You never seemed to mind my…sexy imagination." he winked at her.

"No, I'm happy that you're getting it good on the regular from an ass that won't quit. But come on. You clearly only got with this girl because you thought it would give you the upper hand against me."

"Well, that's very self-absorbed thinking."

"Really, Elliott? Do you see where we are right now?" they looked around at the dank cellar and he shrugged, unable to deny or rebut. "And this woman. Does she know about this little scheme?"

He gave her one of his more evil grins. "Who do you think kicked you in the tit?" Okay…she was new levels of pissed off now.

"Why…the actual FUCK am I here, Elliott!?"

"Well, Shane, you embarrassed me with that little stunt at the bar a few weeks ago. You thought you were hot shit, parading your sasquatch of a boyfriend around in front of me, in my town, humiliating me as all of my friends watched. And then that dickhead sucker punched me in the parking lot. I shoulda pressed charges. But him being a veteran, I knew how that woulda gone in this town. I didn't have a snowball's chance. So I waited. And I planned. And I was patient. And I watched for my moment. And it finally came. I've been watching you leave work every night for the past week, and you're always with someone, or headed somewhere else, or going straight home. Last night…last night I knew was the night when you didn't leave until after 7. You were the last one out, and I knew that it had to be then. The plan, not that you need to know, is to plaster your social media with humiliating photos, piss off everyone that you love, including your precious Sy, and alienate everyone you've ever cared about until you're miserable and alone."

Shane was crying now. She thought she might be sick again. She reached for the bucket. The delusion of this man thinking that anyone in that bar besides maybe the ones that were there with him that night gave a shit about him. Thinking that the town was his. He was a nobody there. He hadn't grown up there, he didn't work there, he didn't participate in community events. He was kidding himself if he thought anyone cared enough about him that he should feel shame over her relationship with Sy, especially five years after their relationship with each other had ended.

"How's that for a 'why,' sweetheart?" he boasted.

"It's making my ask myself a lot of questions. Like why I ever agreed to go out with you all those years ago. Why I didn't see the signs that you were a psychopath sooner. And why I put up with your terrorism for so long thinking you'd ever really change. I can't believe I ever slept with you, you absolute barbarian." and she heaved into the bucket, non-productively. She hadn't eaten since lunch, and that had to be well over twelve hours ago.

"Well, ya did. And ya can't change the past. But I'm about to take your future into my hands. As soon as we find your phone, we're gonna have us a ball, little girl."

"You honestly think I'll cooperate with any of that?"

"You won't have a choice." he held up a little glass vial. "Morphine. A tiny dose of this stuff, and you'll do anything I tell ya."

"Please. Just let me go now, and I won't press charges. I won't go to the cops, at all. I'll call in to work with a headache, or something and you can live your life with Sergeant Squats and we can leave each other alone."

"A good offer, but I need to get something out of this. I need my pride back."

"And you're gonna get that by dragging me through the mud online from my own Facebook account? Is that really the way you wanna do this? When you could just show me what a great life you've built for yourself. This is a great place here, it seems, I mean, I only smelled it, and felt how big it was while I was getting dragged around the place. But, Elliott, if you had just told me about all this, I would have been happy for you!"

"This place is Sasha's."

"Oh." she grasped for something, anything to make him see how insane he was being without saying the words. "Well, I'd still have been happy for you finding an established woman with a great job. Why couldn't you have just written me a letter telling me that? An email! Something."

"This is how it's getting done, Shane. Because this is the only way that truly ruins your life in the process. Because at the end of all of this, the backlash is going to be too much for you, and you're not going to be able to handle this life anymore…"

"No. Elliott, no."

"Yes. You're gonna take one last hit of the morphine and drive that shitty Ford right into the lake."

"You used to care about art. About beauty. You used to be sensitive. You used to have a soul. What happened, Elliott? What happened to your humanity?" Shane asked, crying, in mourning for the man he used to be. The one that she used to care for.

"I fell in love. And she broke my heart. And nothing has been the same."

"Elliott, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, fuck, not you, don't be stupid. No, Kara. I met her right after you kicked me out, and SHE broke my heart." he turned and started up the stairs, pausing to look over his shoulder and say, "I'll be back when I have your phone. And I'll bring friends." before he ascended, shutting the door firmly behind him.

She had never been so relieved to NOT have her phone in her life. Hopefully, her coworkers had it safe and sound, and locked up at work.

Up Next: Chapter 15-Recon

#netflix sand castle #Sand Castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #captain syverson fanfic #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #this is either a bit angsty or it will give you angst it is hard to say

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samwritesforyou · 4 years

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can the sinner get a happy ending?

Fandom: Code Geass

Summary: nunnally decides to clear lelouch’s name and lelouch - conveniently - around that time decides to visit his sister in disguise, because he just misses her so much. but what happens when he learns that people for some reason can’t remember him as a bloody emperor?

A/N: this fic is turning out to be longer than 15k already, so i will post only one part here, as of.. a “prologue”, or just a feel for you to what this story might bring with it. the rest i will upload on ao3! im really proud of this work :D enjoy!

also... im finally coming back to my favourite formatting of this “description” part for the fics, finally :D its been a mess last four fics, sorry! also sorry to everyone who doest follow me for code geass content, i will write different things too, dont worry!

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, no serious proof-reading

Wordcount: 4k (Prologue)

“Nunnally, I do not agree with this,” Suzaku said firmly, looking the empress straight in the eye, brows furrowed together.

“Suzaku-kun, I understand why you’re upset, but this will not harm the people in any capacity. I do this for my brother,” she stated just as strongly, not daring to shift her gaze elsewhere from his emerald pearls.

“But that doesn’t matter, using this power is just wrong!” he was almost yelling now, clutching his hand in the fist.

Whenever someone was talking about geass or even thought about using it, he always had severe reaction to that topic, probably due to all the trauma and suffering that it caused.

Kururugi has never had a fight with Nunnally yet, they had a calm relationship full of mutual love and trust. Despite her being Lelouch’s sister, she was never like him in any sense. And Suzaku feared the day once he’ll start to see the similarities. Despite loving his friend beyond any measure, his actions and thinking was oftentimes just.. extreme, to say the least. Extreme and dangerous, he was never supposed to gain the power he got ahold of. That’s what was going through Japanese’s mind as they were arguing with Nunnally.

She looked at him wide eyed and he could almost be able to see how the wall of trust they’d built together cracked ever so lightly, as the young empress lowered her gaze and sighed.

“Zero, this is an order. Tell Lloyd to have it ready by tomorrow,” there was such unfamiliar coldness in her tone that it made Suzaku stop in his tracks as she turned around in the wheelchair and started to drive away from him.

It was unfamiliar from her, yet.. so familiar from Lelouch.

There was hardly a day when he didn’t think of him. Either cursing him or praying to him to come back.

He didn’t wear a mask right now, because they were talking in the empress’ private rooms where no servants had access to, so he could be himself around here, yet.. yet she addressed him as Zero.

Suzaku’s green eyes shifted slowly, now looking at his feet.

He was clothed in the purple costume with gold lines, purple gloves and a white puff scarf tucked into the shirt. He hated it. He hated all of it. Every single fibre.

He fell to his knees, breath catching in his throat and he felt the familiar dizziness coming into motion.

He was having a panic attack.

It wasn’t anything new to him and Suzaku found out that the best way to fight it is to let it flow. Let it consume him and shiver uncontrollably, salty tears falling from his eyes onto the red carpet as he bowed his head to the floor.

He was alone possibly in the whole floor so there would be no one watching. No one acknowledging how much pain this human being has to endure, when his only wish is to die.. and when he can’t possibly even do that.

When he finally felt the convulsions stop and dizziness drifted away he sat up on the ground, lifting a hand to his face with a sigh that echoed through the richly decorated halls.

“What a fucking day,” man whispered to himself, slowly getting up and taking the mask of Zero, putting it on, feeling the material close surely around his head so no one could possible guess his true identity anymore.

The stare that nobody could see was deprived of any emotion. Now he was just a faceless person with a mission from the empress.

He went straight to Lloyd’s engineering wing, passing the painting of himself in the white suit as the pilot of the Lancelot, a piece of black cloth at the side of the golden frame, meaning that he’s still being mourned by the genius technician.

“Nunnally vi Britannia demands for the device to be ready by tomorrow,” he said sternly, never adjusting his cape as Lelouch always did - a waste of time and a touch that’s soaked with pretentiousness.

“Of course, Zero, your wish is my command! It’s almost ready anyways,” engineer answered, sitting alone by the table where he continued to work on some cables and connections to various pieces of metal.

He was offered to gain at least a dozen of good workers that could help him in his experiments but earl declined, saying that there’s nothing much to invent without his beautiful pilot and no grandiose war going on between Britannia and Japan anymore.

Suzaku just curtly nodded at that, staying watching him for a moment longer than necessary, just wishing he could reveal to him who he really is and that his pilot is still alive and well and could try some of his new knightmares if he ever makes some.

“Lloyd-san, it’s break time!” suddenly rung a high pitched voice through the empty working space as Cecile came closer to both of them with a little tray rattling with silverware and some food on the surface.

“Oh, Zero, I didn’t notice you come in,” she said sheepishly and smiled, pulling the tray towards him a little in an offering.

“Don’t you want to stay and have lunch with us?” she asked in her sweet voice, the one she uses when she wants to make the good impression, but Suzaku just sighed.

These two were the only people who didn’t really judge him. Even when they didn’t know his true identity, it almost seemed like they were friends like they were before. He liked spending time here, but possibly couldn’t keep them company in eating, since.. he couldn’t really take off his helmet.

“Cecile-san, you know that I mustn’t reveal my identity, hence I can’t keep you company at lunch. Only if I sat by the table without taking a single bite,” he said, a soft smile finally breaking to his lips, making the corners of his mouth go up just a little bit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realising why this offer wouldn’t work out, but then she said “oh” again and quickly made a beeline towards the main doors, locking them.

“But what if! I locked the main entrance so nobody could come in while we’re eating,” she started enthusiastically and then made another small run towards the light switch, looking with hope at her boss and then the masked man, “and we would also eat in pitch darkness, so you could finally enjoy something with acquaintances, like a normal person?” she smiled and then blinked comically, correcting herself and laughing nervously, “I’m not saying that you’re not normal, of course, I’m just. I realise that it must be hard to be wearing a mask all the time, mustn’t it?” she finished carefully, biting her lower lip.

“Cecile-kun, you’re making Zero intrigued, I think!” Lloyd barked a loud laugh, looking over at his ex-subordinate, “What do you say, Zero? I promise you no peeking!” he teased and got closer to him, wiggling his brows.

Suzaku couldn’t help himself but felt his smile growing wider at that suggestion. There really was no risk, right?

Did Cecile want to try it for a while now? Because it seems like a thought of plan, after all.

*If I keep shielding myself from others I might as well go insane sooner or later.. What’s the harm in one, pitch black lunch, right?..*

Suzaku thought to himself and then nodded.

“Okay, why not?” he said, making Cecile excitedly jump in the air and Lloyd lean deeper into his chair with a pleased hum.

“Alright! On the count of three I’ll turn off the lights and then.. hopefully make it to you guys without any problem!” she explained and on the count of three she really turned off the lights.

Suzaku wasn’t rushing in taking off his helmet, at first waiting for Cecile to make it safely to their little table. It.. was really dark.

“Cecile-san, please be careful,” he said, now being kind of nervous for his friend.

“I’m okayyy!” in the end of the sentence she yelped, because her outstretched arm collided with Zero’s mask, making a low thud, “I.. suppose I made it to the table, right?” she laughed and Suzaku gave out a chuckle as well, carefully putting her hand aside, so she could find the chair to sit on in this ridiculous darkness.

“Okay, so.. I’ll just warn you that I won’t be speaking while we’re eating, because I have a voice modifier inside that distorts my original voice,” Kururugi explained carefully, waiting for their reactions.

“Ahhh, so you can’t be tracked even by voice recognition, that’s very smart!” mused Lloyd, already, what it seemed, with a mouthful of food, “Or you’re someone who we know, so you don’t want to be recognised! But that’s less probable than the first point,” he concluded to himself, now apparently drinking something.

“I won’t comment on that, Lloyd-san,” Suzaku said and then sighed, “Itadakimasu.”

And with that, the only sound in the room despite the munching on the food was the noise of Zero’s mask unzipping and being put near him on the ground.

Japanese inhaled sharply, filling his chest with some fresh air, even though they were inside.

He finally scratched his nose and then rubbed his eyes, using all of the time he has without a mask. Being without it in public was a really rare occasion, so he felt ecstatic, thinking that.. maybe one day his life might get better.

Once he took a big bite of some veggie balls that were on the plate in front of him, he already wanted to say how delicious it is, especially compared to first things she ever cooked for them, but then stopped himself, instead just gulping down the food.

He noticed that the other two were silent as well, probably honouring the fact that one of this trio cannot talk. How nice of them, truly.

During the whole process he was careful of sounds to be able to in time put a mask back on if needed, but nothing really happened. He only heard some clicking, as if someone was taking glasses on and off two times, but other than that, nothing. It was probably Lloyd messing around anyways.

He sighed with relief when he finished, reluctant to put the mask back on. Despite of being in the dark for so long, his eyes didn’t adjust and he still couldn’t see anything, probably because the place was really devoid of all light at the moment.

Then he shook his head to himself, thinking that revealing his identity would be too risky at the current situation, so he put the mack back on, making a clicking sound in the dark.

“I’ll turn the light back on,” Suzaku said and luckily didn’t collide with anything on his way there.

Once the light was back on, the trio grunted in unison, their eyes certainly not being able to absorb this all at once.

He didn’t sit back down to the portable table but just stood next to it, looking at Cecile.

“Thank you for the meal, it was very delicious,” he said, smiling at her.

“I’m glad it was,” when she lifted her dark blue eyes at him, it looked like she’s been crying, so he got instantly worried.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I am, thank you, it’s just the sudden light,” she laughed weakly in response, placing her gentle palm on top of his hand, squeezing a little.

Suzaku then pulled away and nodded, still with a warm aftertaste of being treated like an actual friend or an acquaintance.

“I’ll get going then. See you tomorrow, Lloyd-san,” Zero turned away on his heels and made his way from the engineering lab.

“Cecile-kun, the tears weren’t from the lighting, were they?” once they were alone, Lloyd looked at her with a pleased grin, swiftly putting his hand into her pocket and taking night vision glasses out of there, waving them in the air in front of her, “Who is he?”

“I’m sorry, Lloyd-san, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” she said with a warm smile, a single tear falling down her cheek, “but he is a good person. We can definitely trust him.”

Life went at significantly slower pace in the countryside than in the city. Nobody was busy.. there actually was *nobody*. Only him and C.C.

The perfect solitude life for two sinners who wanted to make their wishes come true.

Lelouch was just in the middle of harvesting some plants from their little farm, taking breaks every so often because his physique didn’t improve even in conditions like this.

The strew hat oh his head protected him from the angry sun that was shining though the eternity of summer in these lands.

“C.C., can you please get me a container for these? I think it’s better to grow them inside, they’re dying out there on all this heat,” ex-emperor barged into their house with two plants in his hands, taken out of the ground with the roots, waiting for help from the green haired companion he had by his side.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she put away the knitting equipment and lowered her bare legs from the table she was resting on, getting up to her feet, making a beeline for the back room, where the junk of all sorts was stored. For situations like this.

She looked around the whole room, noticing old Zero suit just hanging by the wall, some markers and scissors peeking out of the pockets. She sighed and lowered her olive eyes, finally finding what her partner has asked her for.

With two brown-ish pots in hands she went back and put them on the floor in from of the skinny man, returning to the back room once again to get some fresh soil for the poor plants.

Then she came back for the second time, plopping next to the bag with terra, tearing it open and pouring the soil into the pots.

Lelouch was looking at her this whole time, as if exploring every millimetre of her pale skin. He did it often now. Paying more attention to the details and that made him even the better deduction master than he’s been before.

Sherlock Holmes was onto something, truly.

He could now finally put the plants into their new home now, patting the ground with his elegant fingers, making sure they’re steady in it.

Then he placed them next to the dining table and wanted to go out again.

“Lelouch,” simply said C.C., taking her knitting needles in hands alongside the purple yarn which for the most part was being dragged behind her as she followed him outside.

“Hm?” was the only answer she got, as Lelouch continued taking care of the garden, completely immersed in the activity.

Or maybe his mind was thousand miles away..

“I miss you,” she stated, still knitting, kind of furiously, even though her face was unchanging.

“What? I’m right here,” he chuckled, his hands firmly in the ground, making sure that the plants have enough space to grow and expand.

“No. The old you, the one who was always in motion, who didn’t let life stop him, the one who made me feel like life is a game worth winning,” she said, her hands slowing down in the tempo of her activity, “I feel like you’re losing yourself too.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment after that, working like some gardener, brows furrowed together.

“But we won, C.C. This might not be the life that you nor I want to live, but that’s a small price to pay for the world to stay in peace, don’t you think?” he finally met her eyes, lifting his amethysts from the greenery.

“What about Nunnally? Don’t you wanna see her?” there was no hesitation in her voice as the man got up from his knees and pointed a finger at her in a warning manner.

“I told you to never say her name aloud..” he whispered, no signs of anger on his face, only sadness pooling in his dark, beautiful eyes.

“So you just want to forget her? Or what? What’s your plan?” she stood on her tiptoes now to get closer to his face, talking in the same semi-whispering way, not willing to step down.

This kind of rivalry was the thing that kept these two going in the most dire times when they just wanted to fuck it all and return to the old swing of things.

“I have no plan,” said Lelouch so closely to her lips that at some point of his phrase they touched and he then pulled away, making his way back to the house.

“Hm. What a sore loser,” she mused with a smile on her face, following him and plopping herself on the couch, knitting away.

For the rest of the day they didn’t exchange a single word.

Suzaku was dreading today. The day started already badly from the beginning.

He woke up with a headache and outside was pouring rain, attacking large windows in his private rooms, sound echoing through the space that lacked furniture.

Despite having amazing athletic skills, the curly haired boy was still very skinny for his height and his depression often made him feel like he doesn’t even need or deserve to eat anything.

He sat on the bed, white shirt loose on his shoulders, shuddering to himself.

It was so dark. And lonely. Everyday was the same. Lonely, lonely, lonely. Alone. Echo drifting through the void of his existence, springing off the rich, gold decorated walls which mean absolutely nothing to him.

He hated to reside in the royal palace but he would hate even more to be somewhere alone.

Here he at least has Nunnally... someone who knows completely and unconditionally who he is.

His first plan of action each morning is to wake her up, let her dress and then go together to the dining hall and have breakfast. Only after that they would proceed to go on official side of the business.

When he came to her room and saw an empty bed his heart sunk uncomfortably fast and Kururugi rushed to it, seeing a note neatly folded on the sheets.

*I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, but I will be in my office earlier today. Have something to eat and then bring me the finalised Product. We’ll hold the ceremony in the evening.”

It said and he slowly slid his fingers over the letters, face growing grim.

The product.. she meant the geass button. His stomach curled up and he started to feel nauseous.

If any doctor would see Suzaku right now, they would probably tell him to take a vacation at least for a month and rest for the eternity of it.

There was no professional to stop him, though, so he just stepped hard on all of his emotions, knitting his brows together, putting the Zero mask on.

He marched from the private empress wing and saw quite a lot of commotion, probably because of the speech that Nunally will be giving later.

A lot of people started coming up to him, saying “Zero please do this and that” and Kururugi just waved them all away, for once without any capacity left to feel guilty that he can’t help with preparations.

Soon enough young man found himself in the technician part of the palace where everything was more silent. Way easier to bear the silence here than in his room, he noticed.

“Ah, Zero, welcome!” mused Lloyd, greeting his with open arms, “Everything is ready! Still don’t understand why would the empress need such a device that never brought nothing good but I guess it is not my business to ask, am I right?” he smirked and looked at the masked person, hands on hips.

“It indeed isn’t,” said Suzaku in the low tone, just being fed up with this day. He’d much rather take off his mask and tell the whole world that his death was a lie instead of even touching the device that can inflict such a power. Power that he despises.

But he can’t do that. He can’t do that because he is a slave. He always will be. Lelouch was right. He just lets people to spit on him over and over, in the end not changing a single thing in the grand scheme of things.

Suzaku wasn’t the greatest politician, despite his dad rooting heavily in politics, and so japanese were actually still being oppressed. He just didn’t know how to solve it. He wasn’t as great of a leader as Lelouch was, as the real Zero was.

He’s just a mere replacement that can’t even do his job right.

So he will take the geass button that Nunnally requested from his friend that doesn’t even know who he is, he will ignore Cecile-san as she comes in just seconds before he leaves and waves enthusiastically at him, he will continue in his heavy steps all the way to the palace, he will shrug off every single interviewer that wants to have a discussion with Zero, leader of a nation, he will knock on empress’ office where she is ready for the speech to give to the whole population. And he will bow down before her, getting on one knee, giving her the power he hates. She will just curtly nod at him and then put the device carefully in her lap, just out of reach of the camera. He will stand beside her as Zero, and there will be silence before the broadcast.

He is just a servant. Merely that.

“Nunnally,” he said, devoid of any emotion left, “you still won’t tell me which order are you going to give?” he was looking straight into the tv screen in front of them, as the countdown showed still two minutes left before the beginning of the stream.

“No,” she said seriously, looking at the same direction, tensing up.

“So it will work on me and I won’t even know, huh,” his tone was now softer and quieter, accepting the fact that his most loved person alive is essentially doing what he hated the most.

“No. I got that checked up, Suzaku,” in her voice could be heard a small smile, probably a sad one, as she continued “Apparently the order that my brother gave you was so powerful that you’re immune to any different type of geass,” she said with a deep sigh, “so you’ll hear it and won’t be affected. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He couldn’t answer her anything on that because the timer was already up and the political duo went live to the millions of people that were watching, all around the globe.

The topic of the speech was supposed to be about more liberation rights for Japan, so that created a lot of so-called “hype” amongst the citizens, britannians as well as japanese. The maximum amount of people were watching and they will all obey the empress. That was the plan.

“Nunnally vi Britannia commands you,” with hearing these words Suzaku got goosebumps, his hands squeezing the handles of her wheelchair as much as he could to prevent himself from doing anything that he might regret later, “please, everyone who is watching this or hearing this, forget about the fact that the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire was Lelouch vi Britannia. From now on, you will all remember him as just a person without a face, someone who wanted to rule the entire world, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Lelouch,” she said, after pressing the button.

Even a normal person could feel a literal surge of some energy coming out of the room they were in and Suzaku widened his eyes as he heard the order.

His mouth hung open as he was trying to make sense of what she just said.

Nunnally cleared Lelouch’s name.

Nunnally... cleared Lelouch’s name.

Kururugi couldn’t focus on anything that the empress proceeded to talk about after that, staring blankly at the wall and for the first time he was genuinely glad that he was wearing a mask, so that nobody could see his shocked expression.

A/N: this fic can be now found on ao3! i wont be updating it here on tumblr because that would be just too many chapters and that's just... too much work fdsjfjsf

#code geass fanfiction #code geass #suzalulu #suzalulu fanfic #suzaku kururugi #lelouch lamperouge #suzaku kururugi fanfic #lelouch lamperouge fanfic #im SO PROUD of this work i hope people will notice it

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silvia7272 · 4 years

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8 ~ The Blog-Off

I thought it would be time to meet some of the secondary characters I haven’t introduced yet. Also, I think this might be the third to last one before Piper is introduced to the gang? Maybe, just soon, I hope. And I think it’ll feel like a massive info dump but oh well, I wanted more people than just the class.

Also, I want to give these characters some actual personality traits, hope you like them.

Since I’ve made it that Timetagger isn’t canon in my storyline then I’ll have to add that Alix’s watch is just a unique watch and not a Miraculous since she’s a part of the class salt. Hopefully, that makes sense. Also, the episode Feast hasn’t happened either.

Word Count: 5698

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

Ok, so I just checked on the fanon website information for Miraculous Ladybug and it says Juleka and Alix are 15, how? And why couldn’t they just make it simple so they’re all 13 at the start? I really don’t get it, could someone explain it to me, it just seems so odd to only have 2 people at different ages, (Just saw that Kagami is 15 as well)? For now, they first became heroes at 13, Adrien 14 because his birthday was in the bubbler. Including those 3 cause it makes more sense, because if Juleka really is 15 it's said that Luka is 2 years older than her so that means he’s 17 and that makes me extremely iffy about him liking a 13-year-old Marinette. Yikes, I like Luka leave him alone damn it.

So, the second year of Miraculous Ladybug, they’re all 14-15.

***

It was a particularly sunny day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There hadn’t been any Akuma’s for a while. Leaving everyone a chance to relax.

Well, most could relax.

“Aurore I’m sure its fine, you don’t need to stress so much” Her friend Mireille tried to calm her friend down to no avail. She was still staring at her phone.

“Y-Yeah cheer up. It's only been a day. Maybe people just haven’t l-looked under that tag yet?” But that response only made the blonde glare.

“How could they not. Its an actual Akuma battle I was able to get hold of and nothing? Unbelievable!” The video itself was of the Akuma SleepSis, Aurore was able to get some footage, shaky, but she was able to upload that battle.

Unluckily for her, it seemed that no one was interested but a few people. She couldn’t understand, it had Ladybug and Chat Noir as well as that new hero everyone wanted to know. But because she was new no one paid any attention to it.

“Hey, it's only the first video. Maybe if you make more people will see you.” Mireille suggested, she didn’t want to see her friend upset, they had started to become closer after their rocky start and she didn’t want her to be Akumatized because of this.

“It's so not fair, my video is the latest Akuma fight and nothing has come of it, meanwhile little miss blogger gets all the attention and she hardly does any posts about Akuma’s anymore, it's all about this Lila girl, who by the way is completely fake. Nothing on Akuma’s, more about Ladybug’s love life, why should we give a damn about that-” And here we had a completely wild Aurore, she was ranting while her friends were trying to calm her down. Marc already knew Lila was lying when Marinette told him after… Certain events happened. And Mireille was a good friend, believing Marc and Aurore right away, they had come at separate times and besides, after hearing the girl, all Mireille could see was fakery everywhere.

“Excuse me? Can we sit here?” A voice spoke, breaking the three out of their conversation.

“Huh? Marinette! How are you?” Aurore stood to hug the bluenette who was overjoyed with the fact they saw each other again. Their class schedules were so spread out, this had been the first time, before Rosina joined in fact, that she could see them.

And boy did they change.

“Err Marinette I don’t want to tell you this but Chloé is behind you, extremely close behind you” She pointed to the blonde who didn’t seem amused at all.

“Geez blondie, don’t talk about someone who’s in-ear reach!”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so close to us you wouldn’t hear!” They glared at each other so hard you could see the literal spark in their eyes.

This was going to be a long day.

***

“Sooo you two are friends now?” Mireille concluded after hearing this whole story.

“I find that extremely hard to believe” Aurore spoke, her eyes still not breaking away from Chloé.

“Well, no one's forcing you!” She retaliated.

“Eheh… So where is this miracle worker?” Marc but in, he found it better that Chloé was trying to mend her old ways, and try to redeem herself. It seemed to be working at least, she wasn’t insulting everyone at the table, only Aurore.

“She said she was coming later, she wanted to go explore something” Marinette explained, oblivious of Chloé’s horrified expression.

“And you let her!? You know she needs to be kept in check, what if she’s halfway across Paris by no-” Arms appeared around the girl's shoulders.

“Mari! Chlo! Hiya” It said.

“Ahhh! Don’t scare me like that!” Chloé hit her head, she was too surprised to realise who it was, but she wasn’t sorry, no one should scare someone and expect nothing to happen to them.

“Hey, no fair, it was only as they say a jest” Marinette held an embarrassed smile. Taking Rosina’s arm as they sat down at the table.

“Anyway Rosina, these are the friends I was talking about. Aurore, Mireille and Marc” She pointed to them as Rosina excitedly waved.

“H-Hi-” Marc couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Wow, I love your pigtails they look so cool. Aww, you look so cute in that outfit, like a cute little panda. Wow, I love your t-shirt I so want one for myself.” They all seemed confused. Why was this girl flattering them?

“Don’t worry she does that to everyone,” Marinette clarified.

“Yep, I read if you want to make a good impression you must compliment to provide a friendship with them, now that we’re friends what should we do?” She smiled an enormously large smile, she looked cute and happy, like they could feel the positivity radiating of the girl.

“You’ll get used to this as well, she’s always this happy.”

It was silent after that. No one really seemed to talk, because there was still a big elephant in the room. And it was all pointing to a specific blonde.

“Ugh fine I get it. I’ll go and leave you all in peace” Chloé got up and started to walk away. But two hands pulled her back.

“Wait Chloé it's fine. You seem like you’re really trying so I’ll give you a second chance.” Mireille said.

“Mmhmm, yeah Chloé you’re getting so much better, she even got me a phone” She held it up, her charm still intact, she wanted to take good care of it.

“Wow really?” Marc was surprised, Chloé actually gave someone a present? Was she an imposter? No, it didn’t seem like an Akuma.

“Yeah wanna see?” The redhead excitedly showed off her first-ever phone to the boy. Even explaining things Marc knew but didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“Mhmm buying your way into friendship now?” Aurore so wasn’t convinced at all; sure, people could change but she wasn’t about to forgive Chloé after all the years of her bullying her.

“For your information, Rosina was in need of a phone because she’s never had one. So, it was a gift” She retorted, arms crossed as Marinette put her hand to her forehead. Her and Mireille had given up trying to hold them back, it was obvious they weren’t going to like each other, it might take more time for them to get along.

“As if I’ll fall for that trick. I’ll see you crack under the pressure real soon Chloé Bourgeois.” She huffed as her head turned, refusing to look at her anymore.

“Whatever Aurore Beauréal” The other four were paying attention to Rosina as she was showing all her new apps.

“Err, R-Rosina I can’t understand any of it, what language is it in?” It wasn’t in French that was for sure.

“See see, since I’m still getting used to the French, so I’ve put it in Arabic since it's easier, that way whenever I text my friends they won’t get confused if I get anything wrong.” She gleamed as she put it back in her bag.

“It's fine Rosy, we can help you just tell us ok?”

They continued to talk as they had 1 hour of a free period left. And a previous topic came back to relevance.

“So, you’re a blogger as well?” Rosina was told what a blogger was after Alya overheard her uncertainty. She was dragged off by the girl as she explained. She showed all of her videos to her. Rosina was amazed by the fact one could capture motion and replay it. She had heard about a blog before but had yet to see it. Chloé and Marinette were able to steal her away after causing a distraction.

“A beginner, I was kinda inspired by Alya’s, but it slowly derailed into fake news, so I wanted to make one myself, for Ladybug. She’s been amazing for us and she deserves to be respected. Not pry about her love life or identity” Marinette was beaming on the inside, finally, someone wanting facts and information, plus she knew Lila was bs anyway. She couldn’t be more relieved.

“But… No one seems to want to watch it” Her confidence wavered, Marinette felt dejected, how could she help her she wondered?

“Can we see it? I wanna see what it's about” Aurore beamed with joy, she happily showed her, watching for any change in the girl's faces.

But before the redhead could state her opinions, the blonde beat her to it.

“There's nothing special about it”

“What! H-” She held up her hand, she so wasn’t done.

“It looks like a video that Césaire girl could do, hell I could do that with my eyes closed. There isn’t anything special here” Aurore had enough, how dare she walk in here and disrespect her like this. The pigtailed girl was so close to being done.

“Chloé’s right”

“Rosina you can’t just say it like that!” Marinette was concerned, please don’t make her have to face off Stormy Weather again!

“No wait- I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry Aurore, I just think you can change it, that’s all” She frantically waved her hands around as Aurore blinked.

“Huh?”

“I just mean, Chloé is right that it does look like Alya’s, so maybe you can make different err- what's the word… Content yeah that. Make different content, like an analysis of Akuma, and their powers and weapons.” Marinette shot up, ideas filling her mind.

“Maybe you could interview the heroes about questions regarding Akuma’s? I know people would feel better having their queries answered.” Mireille then joined in.

“You could include tips on how to stay safe during an Akuma attack? That could be useful.”

“I-If you want a script to use, I could help with that?” Marc piped up.

“And since I’m feeling generous, I guess I could lend you some space to use for your videos. Anywhere else would be barbaric” Aurore would’ve glared at her, but she couldn’t make herself do that. They were all encouraging her to continue, to make it unique, to make it her own.

She smiled.

“Thanks, you guys. I’ll be sure to remember this. And you too Chloé” Said blonde smirked.

“What? Sorry I didn’t hear that” She became irritated.

“Chloé please stop teasing her, that’s not a very nice thing to do” Rosina grabbed onto her arm, trying to stop the inevitable argument.

“Ugh fine, it wasn’t any fun anyway” Now they felt shocked. Chloé willingly giving up her teasing? That was unheard of- maybe Rosina really was a good influence after all.

***

[This is great, love the special guests]

[Thanks so much for the advice!]

[Thank you, sweetie, I’m sharing this with everyone xxx]

Hundreds of comments like these appeared within minutes of her second video. Amazingly Ladybug had somehow heard of what Aurore wanted to do and brought Crisono along for the ride as well. Because it was a quiet night, they were able to gain so much information, and Aurore was able to stop fangirling and have a proper conversation with them. They got so many recordings done in a single night Aurore was able to go to sleep feeling peaceful.

Her second video consisted of self-defence demonstrated by Ladybug, it held a serious yet comedic approach as Ladybug demonstrated what would happen if someone, Akuma or not, attacked you using Crisono. Ladybug playing the hero while Crisono played the villain, and what a funny villain she was. It was a huge hit and the viewers wanted more, wanted to know more about Crisono.

Luckily her third video would consist of who exactly Crisono Tassa was? They knew she didn’t hold a Miraculous, so the mysteries surrounding her were endless.

She was so happy by the boost she couldn’t help her locking onto Rosina the minute she spotted her at school.

“Thank you thank you thank you! They love it, and Ladybug and Crisono came to help me. Rosina, you’re the best” Rosina could only pat the girl on her back as her limbs were constricted from moving.

“I didn’t do anything really. But I’m so glad you’re happy Aurore, I mean I know my acting wasn’t the best bu-”

“What?” Mireille asked, what acting was she talking about?

“In the v-” Marinette clamped a hand over the redhead's mouth.

“Well I think I heard the bell go, and you know how Mlle Bustier can be with tardiness so byeeee!” Once they were out of earshot of the three new friends Rosina had made Marinette gave a glare to Rosina.

“You can’t keep doing that?” Rosina tilted her head.

“Doing what?”

“Revealing your identity to people Rosina. It was fine with Marinette because she’s Ladybug, and there were circumstances with Chloé but you can’t do it with other people it can be really dangerous” Tikki came out lightly reprimand the girl, Tikki had long ago deemed Rosina safe to be around as well as hold a secret, and came to care for the girl just like Marinette, she only wanted to protect her.

“But it's fine, it doesn’t matter if people know it's me” She tried to reason. But the bluenette shook her head.

“Yes, it does Rosina. Your friends and family could get hurt if Hawkmoth ever finds out your identity. Please Rosy. Don’t reveal yourself to anyone else”

“But Mari, I only have you, Chloé, Kagami, Adrian, Chat, Aurore, Mireille and Marc as my friends” Marinette would’ve winced at the mention of the blonds but now wasn’t the time.

“Yes but-”

“Plus, I have no family, so he can’t use them to get to me”

“W-What?”

“I don’t have a family, I only have 8 people to protect, so that’s why I’ll strive to protect all of my friends.”

“B-But what about-”

Riiiiiiiiiiing

“Well class should be starting soon, c’mon Mari, we don’t want to be late ok” Before the bluenette could answer she was already being dragged off, she couldn’t stop her as the words went around in her head.

I don’t have a family

‘How can she say that so casually? And what about Franchezca, what about her?’

These questions whirled around the girl’s head so much she couldn’t pay that much attention to the lesson. Not like Bustier called on her. She was glad for that.

Maybe she could ask later?

***

“Rosina?”

“Yep,” A voice spoke, popping the ‘P’. They were walking around the city; they were meant to be meeting everyone as they had planned to all hang out later but Marinette was able to convince Rosina to go earlier. And Marinette felt it was a good enough time to ask Rosina what she meant beforehand.

“You said you don’t have any family to protect. But you also call Mlle Franchezca Aunt? So, if it’s not too much trouble, could you explain?” She stopped walking.

“I mean you only want- I mean, only if you want to. I don’t want to force you or anything” She really hoped she hadn’t offended her.

“Its fine Marinette, I just don’t know where to begin”

She placed her hand under her chin, looking to reminisce on something.

“Let’s see, how did Aunty say it again?”

In the middle of a desert, an older woman with a cane walked.

She was searching for that damn forth Trinklet and it was nowhere. But she needed to find it fast, if not then it would crack.

And she really didn’t want to spend any more time in this stupid desert than she had to.

But then she saw a glow.

‘Perfect’ She thought, making her way towards it, believing that would be the end of it.

But it was only the beginning.

As she came closer to the glow, she saw a bundle of blankets next to it. She was surprised about that discovery.

But that was nothing, because then she heard a cry.

“What the-?”

She rushed to the blanket, if it was what she thought it was then she had to move quickly.

And like she was able to predict… It was.

A baby.

“Who would leave a kid all the way out here?” Franchezca decided that she would try and find out who the baby belonged to. Of course, she wasn’t going to get attached to her.

No, of course not.

That would be absurd.

“She always blamed my smile was the reason she couldn’t give me up” Rosina had finished her story as Marinette stood there.

“So, you really don’t have any other family members?”

“Nope, I don’t know anyone related to me. And Aunty always told me to call her Aunty cause she didn’t want to be called Grandma.” She laughed as she remembered the embarrassed look she gave when the Silver-eyed girl said Grandma once.

“You were just… Left alone?”

“Yeah, she told me this poncho was the only thing I had on me. That’s why I wear it everywhere. But it's alright. Aunty took care of me for all that time, and then I got the chance to train to fight all the Trinklets in the world. It's great” She raised her arms in the air to exclaim she wasn’t even sad.

Swish.

“I didn’t know you wanted a hug, Mari?”

‘She doesn’t seem bothered at all; I want to feel sorry for her but… Should I?’

“You do have family”

“Mari I-” She was about to repeat herself but Marinette jumped to cut her off.

“You have me and Maman and Papa. We’re your family. All of our friends are family and your Aunt. That’s why you can’t reveal yourself to anyone” Rosina paused. She wasn’t expecting… That.

“Really?” It was barely audible but Marinette heard it. And it was so sincere.

“Yeah, so please promise me you’ll stop doing that”

“…Ok. But if I can’t transform in time you can’t blame me if anyone sees” She cheekily replied her usual self-returning.

“Fine, but that’s only if, ok?” She shot back; Rosina nodded before they continued on their walk. Apparently, there was someone she wanted Rosina to meet. All she knew was that he didn’t attend Collège Françoise Dupont.

***

“Rosina, this is Luka. Luka this is Rosina.” They had arrived at *Pont des Arts the meeting place Marinette had organised earlier, all of her friends arriving later gave Rosina enough time to get along with the newcomer, everyone else knew him, it was only fair if Rosina got some time too.

“Pleased to mee-”

“Wow, your hair looks so cool, were you born with it or did you dye it? Wait, are you by any chance related to Juleka? Wow you look so cool” She repeated as he stood back just a bit, he had predicted her melody to be calm and slightly childish, now it had just changed dramatically… He needed a moment to adjust.

“Sorry Luka, I should’ve warned you she was hyper.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it’s good to see you so happy, Rosina seems to have drowned out that melancholy you had” That caused Marinette to blush before she looked back at Rosina. They continued to have a small conversation, at least before everyone else arrived anyway, although it did surprise Marinette when Luka kept looking around and checking his watch, was he waiting for someone? Was he just biding time before leaving them? Was it going to be his girlfri-

“Hayo, Luka long time no see? It’s been like sooo long” A girl who looked like the same age as Luka approached the gang of 3. And she looked so pretty.

She had green hair that complimented her dark skin, her orange jacket looked of high quality and red trousers, was this who Luka was waiting for? Was this his gir-?

“Noémie, it’s been a while, I should have asked before, but I was wondering if my friend could hang out with us?” Marinette was slightly put off, ever since the Lila situation she’s been ever so slightly apprehensive of new people, but she guessed since she’s a friend of Luka’s she would soon be a friend of hers.

“-Gasps- Luka is this the Marinette ya keep talking and gushing about? Oh, my life. She is the cutest little thing ever. Selfie child” Before Marinette could respond she’d already taken a selfie.

“You look even cuter on camera, oh stop ya gonna kill me smols” Noémie’s hand was then grabbed by someone else, it wasn’t forceful at all, but she did lookup.

“Hiya Miss, I just wanted to say that I love your green hairstyle, it looks super cool on you”

‘Is that a tear-’

“Oh my god these two smols are so like adorable, I’m officially adopting you two, my precious little babies.” Marinette would soon learn she would never be able to finish another thought around the green-haired girl. Ever again.

And adopting?

“Eheh no thanks, I have a Mother and one is more than enough” She tried to get out of the hold but couldn’t.

“What’s adopting?”

“I’ll… Tell you later” Mari sighed, this seemed to become a long day.

“I was going to tell you that she can be a bit extreme, but she beat me to it.” Luka sent an apologetic smile towards the two, more to the bluenette since Rosina seemed to be enjoying the affection. It wasn’t like Noémie was doing anything harmful, but he knew she could be a bit… Overbearing at times.

“Selfie time”

“But you just took one?”

“Like girl, ya can never have too many selfies with smols like ya. All these photos can stay online forever. All these memories we can have and keep and look back on is like sooooooo cool. Now say cheese!” her monologue was filled with so much passion for selfies Marinette was able to giggle.

Ok, she liked her, she seemed really quirky.

Whether it was luck or not the others arrived not too long after, unluckily Noémie tried to use that same trick on Chloé because she was apparently a fan of the Mayor’s Daughter…

Yeah, that didn’t turn out well.

But she got over it when they both started taking selfies.

To the extreme.

It was a selfie war at this point.

The 6 were put on edge, but they decided to stay with them, so it was their fault.

Although there was one thought a young blonde had since the day they met.

And it was starting to get to her. And considering they were at the mall anyway she could enact on her plan.

“Rosina let’s get you a new outfit. My treat” She had to try and slowly ease her into it. If not, it would sound mean, and she couldn’t possibly do that to the redhead.

But said redhead couldn’t reply before a new blonde nuisance had to but in.

“Why? What's the occasion Chloé, you wouldn’t happen to be buying more ‘gifts’ to keep your friends, would you? Or could it be that you simply don’t like Rosina’s fashion sense?” She wrapped her arms around the redhead, her new innocent friend who didn’t deserve to be tricked by anyone, even if she knew Chloé was trying to be better.

“Aurore” Mireille tried to ease the tension, but she knew it was to no avail.

“No, I just thought we could all go on a shopping spree. But of course, you wouldn’t know anything about fashion to begin with.” She shot back, two could play at that game and so far, she was winning.

“Chloé” Marinette was now trying to keep the piece as Luka squeezed her shoulder in support. He knew they were just teasing, and it was kinda fun to watch.

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

While everyone else was concerned over a passed out Marinette, Rosina started smiling. The two blondes grew confused before their hands were grabbed.

“Ok, let’s go shopping. I’ve never shopped for clothes before so let’s go” They were dragged off with a bouncing Noémie following as the others were preoccupied.

Chloé and Aurore both wanted to drag the girl off to separate stores but unfortunately, they found out if you start pulling on a person, it will eventually hurt. Marinette had to pry them off her before scolding the two, the others either laughing or taking photos, although I think you know who was taking photos, with the caption: new Mum of the group.

Rosina’s first pick from Chloé was a lovely white knee-length dress, black leggings and a light blue jacket. It seemed lovely before Aurore gave her own pick. A floral pattern navy blue dress with white leggings. Of course, the two bickered which one was better as Marinette gave her own pick. And she looked so cute.

A blue tank top with a matching skirt with a teal bodysuit underneath.

“Wow, this is so stretchy, look look I can do the splits in these.” That earned her a clap as she excitedly bounced up and down. And Chloé couldn’t help the feeling of happiness in her gut. It never happened before with Sabrina or Adrien, was it because she wasn’t just bossing them around?

Yeah, that might be it.

“Hey, I could probably sew something onto it to make it stand out if you want?”

“Really? That would be so cool Mari, thank you bestie?” They hugged before Mireille and Marc chose a new outfit as well.

Did she deserve this? After everything she’s done? Did she really deserve this?

Did she-?

“Hey, your friends are trying to help you Chloé, you are included blondie, don’t screw it up” She nudged her shoulder gently.

Huh, she must’ve been able to tell what she was thinking?

But Chloé wasn’t about to admit that. Especially not to Aurore of all people.

“Whatever, I know I’m their best friend, something you could only dream of having” She gave a playful smirk back, they were starting to get along without even knowing it.

“Hayo guys, let’s take a selfie to mark the beginning of this beautiful like friendship with all of you smols. Hope we all hang out some more” Holding out a camera for the 8 people there, posing for the camera, Noémie planning to tag them all later.

“C’mon Chloé! I wanna buy you something too” they were all dragged off to continue their shopping spree. So many clothes were brought, including the ones that the blondes had chosen, Rosina really loved them as well.

They all ended up getting some really cool shades as well, as well as the fact Chloé was able to spot a jacket that had the words ice queen written on the back. She so had to get one for her and Marinette to wear at school for kicks.

Rosina got everyone a bracelet with some colourful charms on. She got one for 3 others, but they weren’t there. They all beamed with glee as the girl was tackled with a hug by them all.

Marinette felt as if she could finally relax around them. They didn’t just hang out with her to try and make a plan for how to get her together with Adrien, they didn’t just hang out with her to just talk about her crush on Adrien, they actually all just wanted to hang out and enjoy each other’s company. Something she never got the chance to do before Lila came in… Not like she thought she’d be able to do, no doubt the topic would soon go towards Adrien eventually.

But she was able to take in the calm atmosphere around the group of 7.

She knew deep down in her heart that they would all soon be the best of friends.

***

The weekend had ended, and boy was a lot packed into that.

A lot.

Not only did everyone have tons of bags pack with new clothes and various items, but they also decided to dine out in Chloé’s hotel. Friends discount was applied here.

And amazingly Kagami was there along with her Mother. Rosina and Tomoe surprisingly had a conversation about fencing, Kagami was still apprehensive considering her Mother’s opinion about friends but it seemed to dissipate once Tomoe heard her Daughter laugh for the first time in a long time.

Tomoe also heard how fond Kagami was of Rosina after hearing about their fencing match, she wished to challenge Rosina to a match of her own to which Rosina happily agreed, much to everyone's surprise.

But they knew the girl could handle herself, 3 more so than the others but it was fine.

Also, remarkably, Rosina was able to convince Kagami and Tomoe to attend more get-togethers with the rest of the group. It might have something to do with Rosina speaking to her in Japanese and found Rosina to be a good influence.

So that’s how the group of 8 became 9.

The next day Rosina had finally started her contract with the Agreste’s. Rosina would start to be Adrien’s “bodyguard” at school, at fencing lessons as well as at photoshoots. On Sundays, she would be a language tutor for him as Saturdays would most likely be a day off, unplanned photoshoot or more piano lessons.

Adrien was ecstatic once this was all sorted. Finally, he wouldn’t be alone anymore, yeah, he wouldn’t be able to talk to Plagg as often, but as long as Plagg had his cheese he was sure he’d be alright. Besides, since Rosina was actually Crisono, he didn’t have to give a reason for his disappearances.

It did give him more of a reason why secret identities shouldn’t be so secret, but he knew he couldn’t reveal himself for his Lady and Master Fū.

The girls, however,

They were less than impressed with Rosina’s decision considering they told her they weren’t friends with Adrien anymore, but, it was Rosina’s choice and they couldn’t tell her not too.

Besides, it was who Rosina was. If she thought of Adrien as a friend, they couldn’t stop her, they may not like it but if they forced her to deny any interactions with him, they would be as bad as Lila.

So they had to learn to accept it and slowly, it didn’t faze them, sure they couldn’t hang out as much, but when you have a girl full of energy you find that they can and will spend as much time as possible with them.

So, when they arrived at school, they weren’t surprised to see Adrien hug Rosina.

“Thanks for agreeing Rosina” The latter nodded as they headed inside. Even if the blonde still hadn’t accepted it fully, the bluenette was there to help.

But then they heard something that made them both smirk.

“Alya are you alright, that new blog just skyrocketed up, it's halfway to the number of followers you have” Mylène seemed devastated but to that Alya waved her hand around, not the least bit interested.

“Oh please, that blog isn’t half as good as mine, where’s the pizazz? Its soo boring to look at I got tired after that first video.” Rose and Juleka didn’t look convinced.

“But her other videos are so much better. They even have that new hero no one knows about on it.” That perked the girl's interest.

“WHAT! How in the world did she get an interview with Crisono?” She soon watched that video and was furious to find Ladybug there as well.

“She’s even provided tips and other stuff with Akuma’s” Juleka joined in as Alya furiously search through the contents of the Let’sBugOut page. It somehow featured Ladybug in most of them, whether it was by video call or in person.

“So, she doesn’t accept interviews from me but from some amateur! How could she?” Alya didn’t know what she had done to receive the cold shoulder from Ladybug but she supposed that maybe she didn’t want her to be in any danger, that maybe if they stopped talking, Akuma’s wouldn’t be so interested to pick her as a target.

At least… That’s how Lila put it when she had come to the girl for help.

“Very easily, don’t you think? At least Aurore doesn’t pry about unnecessary details about Ladybug’s life. And she actually provides facts, something the LadyBlog is really missing.” Chloé retorted, returning to the desk at the back, everyone glaring at her she had become accustomed to it.

“Chloé how could you say that about Alya? Is this just because you aren’t Queen Bee anymore? And you're taking out your frustration on Alya. If you want, I could always ask Ladybug for advice on how you could improve and be a better person?” The girls swarmed around Lila appeared to be shocked while the other two were annoyed, how dare she sully Ladybug’s name!

“Girl there's no need to help someone like her, I know you're extremely kind, but you don’t need to extend it to the likes of her” Alya replied, that girl had a heart of gold.

“Are you sure, I wouldn’t want Chloé to become too upset at being rejected by Ladybug, I couldn’t imagine the shame she must be feeling now.” The duo was able to see that obvious jab made towards the blonde. How no one else could was a definite mystery?

Marinette paused, how Chloé decided to answer may decide on her future prospects of being a hero, what would she say?

“I wasn’t rejected by Ladybug, and how dare you lie about being friends with someone way out of your league.” The girls were quick to retort but Chloé paid them no mind.

“And I am still Queen Bee, in or out of costume. I don’t need it to define me. I’m more of a hero than you’ll ever be” She smirked at the last line before grabbing Rosina from Adrien, who was talking about schedules by the way, and promptly sitting down with Marinette. The blue-haired girl impressed by the blue-eyed girl's words. She didn’t spill the fact that technically she was still Queen Bee, just changed.

Chloé was learning.

She just wished the others would as well.

***

*Pont des Arts = A Pedestrian Bridge In Paris.

I hope you enjoy my new OC I put out. I just thought I wanted Luka to have more friends so here we go.

After making that outfit for Rosina I couldn’t stand it and knew I needed to change it, so I thought why not throw some Chloé sugar in there as I’m at it. Also, I think it’s reasonable for not everyone to believe or accept Chloé’s redemption since not everyone is so ready to forgive, right?

And with that, Rosina has kinda met all of the Marinette Protection Squad members (Minus Felix, he’s gonna be a special case)

1 more chapter till Piper, I really can’t wait for it, the next one will contain some unexpected salt towards a certain bluenette. Hope you’ll all enjoy it as much as me, I just think it’ll be great and clarify stuff.

Also, could someone help me with Rosina’s backstory? Or be willing to read and see if it's alright? Since she was found in a desert I was going to put her birthplace as Egypt, but with Franchezca travelling around she doesn’t really know anything about it, but later she learnt Arabic after her Aunt told her the story of how and where she was found.

Is that alright. I’m not offending anyone with that am I? do I need to change anything with that?

Sorry if it sounds stupid, I just want to make sure it's not insulting anyone.

Also, maybe some help with accents? Her first language was Spanish, but her favourite is Arabic, so what sort of accent would she have?

Anyway, I hope you liked this part can’t wait for the next it will be shorter, maybe haven’t planned it all out yet, but I hope that’s alright.

Note: Updated the pictures. Also, I keep updating Noemié’s design because of the artist in me, haha. hope you like hers.

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

Missin’ You is Terrible- Part 2: Thinkin’ ‘Bout You

Calum isn’t looking for deep feelings, just for some fun. But he’s pretty sure friends with benefits isn’t supposed to go like this. Black!Female Reader.

Enjoy my masterlist

Support me on kofi

_________________________

Get ready to miss me.

Her handwriting is sloppy, but still readable. Calum finds the note tucked into his journal. It rests right on top of an envelope. How in the world he managed to miss that this morning when he was packing his bad, he’s not sure. Calum picks up the white paper. Something slides from one end of the envelope to the next. It’s small and rectangular. What in the world? he thinks to himself. He parts the folds and sees something baby blue, a piece of paper--a note. And a small black flashdrive. His breath catches in his throat.

It’s not what he thinks. No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that. With a slight shake in his fingers, Calum pulls out the note. For Private Eyes-- is all that’s written in all caps. He scans the note again before noting a tiny arrow underneath the ‘S’. He follows it all the way down and sees in much tinier handwriting, They are watching you.

He chuckles. Of course, of fucking course, she’d make a reference to the song in such a serious moment. Was serious even the right word to use here? He isn’t sure, but his heart beat is so rapid he can feel it thumping beneath his skin. Swallow hard, Calum plays with the flashdrive, lets his ears and brain drift down the soundwaves of David Bowie, armpits sweating about what’s on this black drive. He cannot wait for this flight to end.

When his phone chimes mid afternoon the next day, he’s in the middle of signing posters. The second his plane landed, he managed to grab a couple hours of sleep before being rushed off to the venue. The show that night was great and the guys got up to their usual shenanigans. By the time he had a moment to himself, all he wanted to do was crash. Now he sits, working through the stack of posters in front of him. Calum scribbles his signature across the poster before capping the marker. New iMessage- A-1. Throwing a glance over his shoulders, he unlocks the message. Tell me you’ve stolen a moment alone to check what’s on that flashdrive.

Calum’s hands start to tremble. He doesn’t even want to think about what’s on that USB. He can’t even fathom what sorts of alluring and drool inducing concoctions she’s uploaded up there. He stands from the floor, a soft grunt falling off his lips. His lower back and shoulders have been killing him the last day and a half, and he knows it’s because of his visit to her. He can’t sleep hardly at night anymore. His body is dead beat tired, but his brain keeps drifting to the smell of her bonnet in his nose, to the feel of her curled up into his side. He misses her more than he usually does.

But right now, at the mention of that fucking drive hooked to his keys, his desire just have her close is replaced with a desire to devour her, to make her see stars, to utterly destroy her for making him like this. To give her a taste of her own medicine. The ringing hits his ear as he pulls the phone closer. The hallways to the venue seem to be bustling. They had soundcheck already, but it seemed like people and crew were always doing something, always on some sort of task. “You could’ve just texted me,” she laughs answering the phone call.

Calum exhales, nearly caving at the sound of her voice. But no, he’s going to give her a taste of her own medicine. She’s always the one pulling his strings, always the one to make him into putty. She’s going to have to suffer. “Patience, babycakes. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s a virtue?”

Her exhale is shaky, crackling through the phone. “That’s quite cruel. I put so much hard work into that surprise for you,” her voice lowers to a whiny whisper. “Months. So many pictures. Videos,” she draws out the word. “All your favorite sets. Know how long it took me to find a baby blue set?”

“Stop,” Calum breathes. He doesn’t want to beg. He can feel the whine trying to claw its way over his throat. He can’t. She can’t win this time.

“You’re strong when you want to be,” she offers, voice returning to its normal volume and tone. “But only when you want to be,” she adds under her breathe.

He hears. She knows he did. Calum straightens against the cold concrete wall. “Babycakes, you’re going to regret that.” He’s going to make sure of it. They have two more shows before the North American leg ends. He’ll sweat her out for those two days. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself until I say so.”

“Who died and made you king?”

“Let me spell it out. I have two more shows before this leg ends. How long is the drive to my place from yours? Wouldn’t you like to see Duke? Spend a couple days with me, say hi to the boys?” Calum’s purposefully neglecting details, purposefully not mentioning sex. This is her reality if she misbehaves, if she doesn’t heed his words. But that sounds heavenly as he describes it. Does it sounds just as appealing to her as it does to him? He prayed it did. Part of him wanted her to misbehave. Wanted her to crack as some kind of twisted test to see if listened to his confession.

It seemed like she did. She got teary-eyed and he held her. Just held her, soothing her with soft murmurs and kisses to her forehead. He didn’t know what to say. Was there anything to say at that point? He wasn’t sure, and isn’t sure even now. She never said anything. How could he respond if she never spoke to him verbally. But then again she was never one for words. She spoke in actions. Like the next morning, she made him his favorite pancakes and she surprised him with muffins from a local bakery. Would she speak with actions again this time? Would she show him where she stood this time around?

“I’ll play this game,” she answers, consenting to the rules. They play these games. They make these rules, but rarely. Calum smiles at the phrase. “But when at the end of this, after I’ve obeyed like a good girl, can you do something for me?”

“What do you propose?”

“You’ll know when I ask for it.”

Calum drops his head to the wall, not hard enough to hurt him. He has to fight every once of him to fight the fucking groan trying to burst through his chest. She’s devious. She could ask for anything. She could ask to Dom. She could ask him to jump off a bridge and Calum would have to agree if he says yes now. He highly doubted she would ask him to do such a thing. But agree without specifics was a hairy situation to be in. But she needs a reward, something to look forward to that’s just for her at the end of this. Her obeying his rule, her being a good girl is for him, so he can watch her crack and melt to the smallest of his touches. He loves it. But she needs something on the other end of the deal that satisfies her Dom side, something that gives her an upper hand, even if it’s just temporary.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Calum nods. “I’ll play this game,” he says, pushing out all his breathe.

“Thank you, angel.” Calum can see the sly grin on her face, he can feel her nails ghosting over his skin. The thought makes his body shiver. A groan slips over his lips. “Oh, you’re not going to regret it. Well not that much.”

Oh, she’s not getting to him right now. She’s not pulling this sleight of hands right now. Calum pushes off the wall. “You only get your favor at the end. Don’t get too cocky now.” With that he ends the call. No goodbye, doesn’t let her get something slick in. The more opportunities she has to say something smart, to say something capable of cracking him, the more likely he is to crumble in this resolve. He drops his head back against the wall, exhaling deeply.

Someone chuckles next to him. He looks to see Ashton and Michael, sticking their heads out of the door. “Looks like someone had a pretty fun phone call,” Michael laughs.

Calum doesn’t even need to look down to his pants to know what they’re referring to. In defense, Calum flips them off. Ashton speaks, “That Nobody is truly Somebody huh?”

Calum wants to tell them to fuck off, that it’s none of their business. But his neck is a mess of red bruises still. She worked a number on him the afternoon before he had to leave. Not that he minds, but the jokes keep coming.

“That Nobody is probably a vampire. It’s a miracle that he’s still alive,” Michael states.

“Alright, get a new joke,” Calum retorts. “You’ve used that one enough.”

“Did she call to see if you had restocked? Which by the looks of it, you’ve got plenty of blood to spare,” Michael says.

This one gets Calum, his laughter bursts out of him. “Fuck off,” he chuckles out, walking back into the room. There’s no hiding it, there’s no need to even try. Calum walks back into the dressing room, knowing full well everyone that looks at him can take a guess as to who he was just talking to. No one questions it. Calum knows he ought to be more shameful, more reserved about this. But he’ll give her this. The quiet recognition that there is a somebody even if they never speak her name. He can give her that, and she never has to know.

__ Calum slides into his bunk that night, exhausted. But he figures before he slips into unconsciousness, he’ll finally take a quick look through her little gift. Calum pulls out his laptop and fishes out the USB. Slotting it into the port, Calum’s heart races. If he was dead tired before, now he’s wide awake. The small icon pops up, the title of the seems innocent enough. He clicks on it and there’s two compressed ZIP files. He clicks on one of it and a small text box pops up, asking for a password. What does he need a password for? She never game him one.

But he remembers the note. He tries ‘forprivateeyes’ and that doesn’t work. Calum thinks for a second ‘privateeyes’. That doesn’t work. What else was on that note then? Calum reaches into back into his bag and pulls the envelope out. Down in that corner in the smaller handwriting. Calum types into the box, ‘theyarewatchingyou’. The box disappears and suddenly his computer screen is filled with tiny icons. The rich depth of her skin in each one of them. His fingers tremble as he clicks on one at random. The photo that lights up his screen is just of her, sitting in her fluffy grey moon chair. She appears to be bare beneath the white sheet. She gaze is direct to the camera, or maybe it’s a mirror. Probably a mirror, he guesses. She did a rod set, he can tell by the way the curls do more a shirley temple curl than the zig zag pattern of her natural curl pattern. Her head titled just a little, lips glossy, pouty and parted.

Calum’s inhale is shaky. Holy fuck, holy fucking shit. He closes that one and clicks on another one, a little further down. Calum bites his lips as the picture loads, her a playboy bunny bodysuit. His body is tingling and hot. God, fuck. It did take her months to do all of this. Fuck, holy fuc. Scrambling he finds his phone buried under the blanket of the bunk. He doesn’t even know if she’s up at this hour. But he still tries. He has to see if she’s awake. So she can see what the fuck she’s doing to him. He keeps the volume down low, resting the phone against the screen of laptop. He clicks on another photo. This one is a video. She’s at her desk in her office, lazily sucking on a lollipop. Cherry he figures from the color of the candy. She gives a clear view of the tip of her tongue circling the body of the candy. “Fuck you,” he whispers.

“But you’re so far away.”

Calum looks down to the phone. She’s sleepily grinning into the camera. Shit. He didn’t mean to interrupt her sleep. “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You called for a reason.”

“I finally looked at what’s on that drive. You know you’re such a good girl, right? But so bad at the same time.”

“It’s my speciality, huh?”

Calum looks back to the screen, she’s pulling the candy from hollowed cheeks. He can hear the lewd pop sound, the slurping follows soon after. Fuck, that does not sound good. He hurriedly turns down the volume, heart thundering, blood pounding in his ears. “You have headphones for a reason!” Luke shouts with a laugh.

She chuckles. “Wear headphones for all videos in the future.”

Calum sighs. “Thanks for the warning. Now, after the fact.”

She hum, shifting before her face is completely illuminated in the dark of her room by her phone screen. “See, now’s about the time I’d be touching myself. But somebody’s decided to be an asshole.”

A grin lifts Calum’s cheeks. “Be good for him, babycakes. Sleep well.”

“Wait, you’re not just going--” Her sentence dies on her lips. Because he is. He is going to toy with her. “That’s not the only reason why you called. Not just to tell me that you looked.”

“Sweet dreams,” he says.

A whine falls from her lips. “You’re gonna leave me high and I can’t say necessarily dry, but, just gonna leave me hanging?”

“I surely am,” Calum smiles, waves into the camera. The call ends, the distinct two beep sound signaling it.

The next day, the bus empties, leaving Calum alone for just a spare few minutes. So he pulls out his laptop, sliding the USB into the port again. He calls her again on FaceTime. It takes her longer to answer this time. When the call finally connects, Calum smiles, fingers typing in the password. “Have you been good?”

“No.” The word is so definite. She doesn’t make an excuse, she doesn’t hesitate with the word. But he catches the huff at the end of it. It’s not a pouty huff, it’s a breathless huff. He snaps his attention to his phone. Her chest is heaving, but she grins lazily into the camera.

“Are you--Why?” Calum can’t even get the words out to fully flesh out his disbelief. So blatant, like with no shame. He should be furious, he’s trying to tell myself to be. But it’s not working. All that’s flooding him is desire, it starts in his lower gut, spreading to his chest. His body floods with warmth. A moan falls over her lips, eyes fluttering close. “Show me. Show me how much of a fucking bad girl you’re being,” he whispers.

The screen shifts. She’s using her laptop, he realizes as the full view of her body comes into view. She situations the laptop between her legs. He watches the point in which her fingers disappear inside of her. He can see the pillows lifting her lower back and hips. She’s at home. She must be writing today. “So you couldn’t wait?” Calum questions, gaze zeroed in on slickness glistening in the reflection of the screen.

“Hmm, I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.”

“Clearly, you’re not sorry enough to stop.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you jacking off to those photos,” she sighs, squeezing one of her breasts. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you make, the way you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Then I really wanted your fingers inside me. Then I-fuck,” she hisses. Her hips start to rise, heels dig into the mattress. Her fingers have sped up.

“Stop. You fucking stop right now, or so help me God.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice. The amount of authority that spills past his lips makes him scared.

Her fingers immediately stop, she doesn’t remove them. Just stops, like she was told. “I’m sorry. I-,” she tangles her free hand around the roots of her hair.

“Tell me why. Why disobey and break the rules. I even gave you a reward at the end.”

It’s silent. She turns her attention to him. She’s assessing him. She’s trying to find the right words. She can write her ass off, she can create beautiful words. But in person, she flails. Calum doesn’t want to have to guess her motives. He wants the fucking truth. He creates an incentive. “I’ll let you cum if you’re honest.”

“I know I wasn’t supposed to touch myself. I know I consented to the rules. But what if instead of seeing you just for sex, I really wanted to just say hi to Duke, and see the other guys, and bake and too late or too fucking early in the morning with you like we used to do. What if I said I was breaking the rules because sex matters much less to me when it comes to me?”

“Well, are you saying it? Why fill that flashdrive?”

“I am saying it. I’m saying that. Why fill the flashdrive? Because I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you. Literal months spent putting that together. Because literally you consume every thought that’s not about work or writing. Sue me. Fucking sue me for being a human being with fucking feelings. Sue me for trying to suggest that maybe just maybe I might want something more.”

His breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t do relationships. They never work for him. It requires too much trust. The last time he thought he could trust someone it blew up in his face and went viral--not in the way he wanted either. He was a kid, it was an honest mistake. But still when things cut deep, they leave scars. His first reaction is to say things would never work. His first reaction is to fucking run. But hasn’t he already kind of opened this door? Is he actually falling for her? Is this just more than sex? Was it ever really just about sex?

“Well, are you going to say anything?”

Calum wasn’t even aware of how long his silence had stretched. “I’m a man of my word. You can cum. Be a good girl for me.”

“I know I’m naked right now. But we are passed this game. We are passed a tug of war in who’s Dom right now,” she sighs, pushing the laptop away from her. She disappears from view, but still talks. “I know we’re shit with words and verbally expressing ourselves. But I’d greatly appreciate you opening your fucking mouth for once.”

The door to the bus opens. His security guard waves at him. “C’mon, Cal.”

Shit, of course. Now when he doesn’t need to be interrupted. Her sigh is heavy from the other side of the screen. “Go, I understand.”

Calum exits the folder, ejecting the flashdrive. “I’ll call you back,” he says. “Okay? Give me just a minute to get into the venue and then I’m calling right back.”

“Okay.” It’s not a convincing tone. She’s defeated. Her lips are twisted, her eyes look glassy. Fuck, damn it.

“I swear. I’ll call the second I’m inside.” All she does is sigh and nod before ending the call. Calum rushes to collect his things, throwing them into his bag. He follows behind the guard, phone still unlocked on her contact name. The second the fans see him, the screams start. He waves. He doesn’t even attempt to smile. The moment his feet touch the inside of the venue his taps on her number again. The call rings once, then twice, three times. She’s not going to answer. Calum bites down on his thumb nail, listening to the ringing. He doesn’t leave a message.

He calls again a couple hours later, after sound check. Still no answer. She responds to that missed call with a text. Sorry, got an email about a bumped up deadline.

Calum types a reply. Okay. Good luck. Let me know you’re done so we can talk. Please.

She sends back a thumbs up emoji. Calum drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his closed eyes with the heel of his palms. She always responds with a text, a phrase, even if it’s just ‘K’. There’s always some sort of text, never just an emoji. He could cry. Honestly, he might be. There’s that all too distinct sting behind his eyes. Yes, definitely teas. It’s not that he wants to reject his feelings. He’s just frustrated. He can’t believe that he was an idiot. Why didn’t he say anything about his feelings? Why did he think that he could respond like that? “Fuck,” he exclaims.

The entire room jolts at the exclamation. Michael puts his phone down, watching his friend rub his face. Ashton walks over, perching onto the edge of the sofa. “I’m such an fucking idiot,” Calum mutters.

“What’s up, man?” Ashton asks.

Calum shakes his head, finally opening his eyes. He peers up to Ashton, the anguish painting his face. Ashton knows, gives a squeeze to Calum’s shoulder. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You said that already.”

“I just really fucked up. And I can’t tell if she’s blowing me off, or she’s actually busy now and can’t talk. She’s never responded to a message with just an emoji. Never, ever.”

“Give her the rest of the day. See if she responds with something else.” Calum nods. Maybe she just needs time.

The entire show, Calum’s too focused on if she’s called, if she’s left a message. She knows he’d be on stage at this point. If she really wanted to talk, she wouldn’t call when he couldn’t answer. He misses a note and nearly wants to kick his own ass. Just stop thinking about her for thirty seconds, he reprimands. When the show ends, Calum hates himself. He played terrible. He managed towards the end of the show to put aside his thoughts for the most part. But by that point, it feels too late to correct it, to make it better.

He stands from his final bow, steps backwards and immediately thinks about drowning his anger in a pint. Or two, maybe more. His phone is empty of messages from her. Not a text or a call. He figured as such. As the night nears morning, there’s still nothing from her. Calum curls up in his bunk, clutching his phone. He doesn’t care if her call comes at 7 in the morning. It won’t matter what time as long as it comes.

To see Duke is just the distraction that Calum needs. She still hasn’t called. It’s only been a day and a half. He’d be less concerned, if not for the fact of his fucking idiotic mistake. He hasn’t called since his text, he’s afraid to interrupting her. But now it’s eating him alive. He reclines in his outdoor seating, rubbing Duke’s stomach. “Should I call her bub?” he asks the small dog.

Duke turns his head to Calum. He doesn’t say anything, just pants a little happy to have Calum back. Calum unlocks his phone and hovers over her name. He should call her. Even if she doesn’t answer, he’ll leave a voicemail. He’ll apologize. There’s a chance she doesn’t listen right away. But he has to do something. He taps it and presses the phone icon. Bringing the phone to his ear, he listens to the ringing, heart pounding against his ribs. It rings for a fourth time and he’s about to give up when the call connects. “So, I’m still on deadline and I’m still pretty pissed. But I figured I should finally answer,” she says.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve actually responded to your confession. I should’ve said literally anything other than what I did. I’m so so sorry.”

“Could’ve said that in a text.”

“Would you even have read it?”

She chuckles. “Probably not right away.”

“How much more do you have to do? What’s the new deadline? I want to have a proper conversation but I don’t want to intrude on your time.”

“Tonight. I still have a fourth of this chapter and then three more. I haven’t slept more than four, five hours total. I’m running on pure caffeine, right now.” Her sigh is heavy through the phone.

“Get some rest, okay? I’ll call tomorrow morning.”

“I’m still mad at you,” her voice is soft.

“You could curse me out. But I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to apologize properly, again.”

“I’ll answer,” she whispers. Calum ends the call, biting his lip. This is good. She answered. As Calum watches out, taking in the lush grass, recording cute clips of Duke, he starts planning how early to get up. He’s got more than one way to apologize to her.

“How can I help you?” the young girl says from behind the glassy display case.

Calum eyes the donuts, but also keeps an eye on Duke. He sits quietly, watching all the other patrons of the bakery. “Half a dozen variety pack. Though I might be back later,” he chuckles, thinking how much she loves this family owned donut shop.

The girl nods, grabbing the box and lining it with a wax sheet. “It’s a blessing and a curse to work here,” she jokes. “I highly suggest the lemon filled.”

“Throw two of those in there, yeah. Two red velvets.” Those are her favorite. He cannot show up to her door without those in the pink box. He pauses, looking over the rest of the options. “And two classic glazed too.”

“Great choices.”

It’s about ten when he knocks on her door. If it weren’t for the donuts in his passenger seat, Calum is sure that it would’ve taken him nearly an extra hour to knock. He said call, not roll up at her door with donuts. But he did also have Duke, so maybe that would make up for it as well. Just as he drops his hand, the door opens. He expected her to roll out of bed, drag herself to the front door. But no, she’s in athletic shorts and an one of his t-shirts tucked into them. It’s his Drop Dead one, the ones with holes in it. Her hair picked out in a fro around her head. She’s even got lipgloss on. Fuck. He wonders for a moment if it’s the one that’s slightly scented like vanilla.

“I thought you said you were going to call,” she chuckles, holding the door open with her body.

Calum shrugs. “So maybe I’m bad about my word sometimes.” He lifts the box of donuts. “But I brought breakfast, or maybe a mid-morning snack. It looks like you’ve been up for a while.”

She waves him inside, crouching to pick up Duke, who happily climbs into her arms. She giggles. “Yes, it’s scented lip gloss Duke. No, you can’t have any. I’m so sorry bud.” Calum places the box onto her dining room table. He spies the Swiffer mop and knows she was in the middle of cleaning, so slides out of his shoes, putting them on the guest shoe rack.He stands for a moment. Can he act like he normally does? Go straight in for a donut and kick his feet up on the coffee table? No, he should probably talk to her first.

“I’m going to chop your head off. Relax.”

Calum plays at the rings on his fingers. He’s not really sure why he put them on. Well, no, that’s a lie. He knows why he put them on, because he knows how much she loves them. He wanted to show he was thinking about her too. Another reason why he got the donuts too. Calum nods, looking to the ground for a second. “So, if I say I’m a fucking idiot and I’m very sorry again is it overkill?”

She slips the harness off Duke, shaking her head. “No. It’s not overkill. Some might call it just a kill. I’m sorry for ghosting. I should’ve called or something.” She slumps in front of her couch, put Duke up on the couch cushions. Calum grabs the box of donuts and some napkins. He settles down directly across from her in front of the coffee table. She flips the lip, grabbing a red velvet with her fingers.

“You’re disgusting,” Calum teases.

“You’ve kissed me with your own cum in my mouth. Let’s not talk about gross right now.”

He rolls his eyes, though he shifts a little. “We’re not talking about that right now.” But there’s a lot more they’re also not talking about either. Like, is Calum ready to jump into the deep end. Is he truly gonna let himself call this love? Is he going to call this a desire to be with someone that’s not strictly sexual? Is he going to actually “do” feelings right now? But fuck, does he like pondering the universe with her. He likes watching her play with Duke, he’s got too many videos of them curled up together on his phone.

“It’s been hard to sleep at night,” Calum utters. She pauses, part of her bite still hanging out of her mouth. “Without you,” he continues. “Like, I either don’t sleep peacefully at all. Or I sleep in this really tight ball and I wake up with sore muscles. There’s something about the floral scent to your hair products, something about your body heat next to me. And like, pondering the universe alone fucking sucks. I much rather hear you debate me on every sentence than have my brain loop the same paranoid thought a thousand times. And I’ve very unfortunately forgotten your family recipe to snickerdoodle cookies and I’m sad about that because they’re the greatest cookies ever. And what I’m really trying to say is that I have feelings for you. And not just the ‘I-want-to-fuck-her-senseless’ kind. It’s more of the ‘I-want-to-watch-her-edit-at-the-kitchen-table-massage-her-shoulders-and-then-fuck-her-senseless-on-it’ feelings’ kind of feelings. And I’m so sorry I didn’t say that before. I-- me and verbal communication aren’t the best of friends.”

She nods. “I know that much. We aren’t great friends either. I guess my question is, do we want to act on those feelings? Like I know I’d like to, but Mr. Doesn’t Do Relationships across from me might say otherwise.”

“I do. I want to act on these feelings. I’m not promising that I’m going to the best. I’m not promising that I’m such knight in shining armor. But I am promising to try. It’s honestly all I’ve got.”

Licking some of the icing from her fingers, she taps against the wooden structure beneath her fingers. “So, like, what now?” she laughs.

Calum shrugs with chuckle. “The hell if I know.”

“I gotta finish mopping the kitchen, so I’m going to go do that and then we can figure out what the hell happens from here.” Calum nods, watching her push up from the floor. As she passes, he reaches out for her, fingers brushing over her calves. She nudges his leg with her foot. He over dramatizes the effect and falls back onto the hardwood flooring.

Her chuckle is soft, “Idiot. It wasn’t even that hard.” Before she can walk away, Calum grabs onto her ankle. He know she has responsibility. But the kitchen floor isn’t going to up and run. “Yes, Calum?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No, you fucking bought me red velvet donuts. I’d be a fool to still be mad at you.”

“Does that then mean that I can get a kiss?”

She watches the way his lips quirk into a smirk. He’s going to ask for a lot more. He says kiss, but she second squats down to peck his lips, his hands are going to find her hips. If his hands find her hips, they’ll find her waist. Then her breast, her throat, every inch of her skin. “Just a kiss,” she warns.

The warning falls on deaf ears. As she lowers down, Calum catches her waist, pulling her in close. Don’t swing your legs over his waist, she warns herself. That’s the deadly move, that’s the nail in her coffin. As their lips pull apart, Calum gives another tug. Her knee hits his side. “I gotta mop,” she defends. Yes, mop. That’s going to spare her just minutes.

“It can wait. I’m thinking about that playboy bunny suit right now and I really hope your coffee table is sturdy.”

She straddles him, holding his face gently in her hands.This is it, she’s completely lost any ounce of being in her right mind. He smells so much like Gain, stale cigarettes and coffee. He smells like home to her. She doesn’t give a fuck about that kitchen floor now. “Coffee table’s too short.” They gaze at each other. Dark brown melting into each other. He reaches up and brushes over her face with the back of his knuckles. She’s real, and his. Fuck, the phrase feels strange in his mind. Would it sound just as strange? Would it feel awkward leaving hips?

“You’re like, actually mine,” he whispers, his lips lift into a smile. No, it’s definitely not awkward. It feels right. But still strange, still not firmly in his grasp.

“I’m yours,” she laughs, kissing him. His fingers dig into her side. She’s soft beneath his fingers, she’s warm, she’s his. Her hips grind down on his crotch, covered thinly in the mesh of his basketball shorts. He groans into her mouth. She tastes differently now, he thinks, even behind the sweetness of her donut. She still tastes, smells like what he always knew, but it feels new on his tongue, in his nose. It feels news and exciting somehow.

Calum slips his hands under the cotton of her, his, t-shirt and she moans into his mouth. The rings probably cold to her. Balling the cotton into his fist he pulls up. She breaks their kiss, pulling the shirt completely off her body. A lacy black bralette covers her brown chest. He runs the pads of his fingers over her skin, dancing them over the swell off her breasts. She drops her head back, pressing hard down into his crotch again. “Hmm,” she whines.

“I know you call me an angel. But right now, you’re the one god sent,” he whispers to her, squeezing her breast beneath the thin material. He drags his second hand down her stomach, pressing his palm deep into her flesh.

Her head falls forward, a smile resting on her face. She crawls her nails up his skin, trailing up his ribs beneath the black hoodie adorning his body. She pushes the material up, exposing his skin to the cool air. Her lips are soft as the barely touch his body. “Ah,” he groans, tensing at the small bites she trails up his skin. She pushes until the hoodie is up and over his head. Calum sits up, pulling them chest to chest.

She rests her head onto his shoulder as his fingers run down her spine, playing at the hooks. Her cheek is so close to his silver fern. His reminder of a home he’s never been. She wants to take them there. She wants to watch his face light up when he lands and gets to spend proper time with his family. Not rushed backstage, not told at the holidays. But proper time. She kisses the tattoo softly several times. Calum tilts his head a little, letting her take her time with his body. “I’m gonna take you home of these days,” she whispers in his ear, gently nibbling at his ear.

He chuckles. “It’s two hours without bad traffic.”

“No,” she presses a hand to the tattoo. “I’m going to take you home. Here,” she says tapping the black ink.

“I am in a home,” he returns. “Right here with you in my arms.”

“A home, but not home. I know Sydney will always be your home, the place you’ll ultimately go back to. But, roots, I want to take you to your roots.”

He can’t say no to that. He’s always wanted to go. He’s just never allowed himself to dream it a possibility. He always has something else to do. He’s always putting something else in front of it. He can’t put something else in front of her though. She’s going to be his reason to finally think of himself. “Okay, Ms. Big Shot. Sweep me off my fucking feet.”

She kisses him, laughter still bubbling from her lips. “I’m not that strong. But I’ll surely try.”

Calum undoes the hooks to her bralette, staring directly into her eyes as he pushes the lace away from her skin. “A small wise old alien once said, ‘Do or do not. There is no try.’”

She slaps his chest. “Do not quote Yoda to me with your dick hard.”

He laughs, biting the end of her nose before placing a kiss to it. “Fine. No more Yoda quotes in the bedroom. But since this isn’t the bedroom.”

She covers his mouth, trying to stare at him with fire in her eyes. But all that’s there is love, is her laughter, is a softness for him. “I swear to God, Angel, I will walk away right now.”

Calum sighs, but nods, signalling his agreement to not quote anymore Star Wars. He wraps his arms around her waist as she slowly pulls her hand away. Calum waits. She’ll give in too soon. She’ll believe in his agreement. Right as she relaxes into his embrace, he squeezes her into a hug. “Feel the Force.”

“I fucking hate you, Cal! Oh my god, I do.” She laughs, attempting to wrestle from his grasp. He peppers her face and neck in loud, wet kisses, punctuating each one with a “muah” sound effect. She knows she can’t win. Not in a game of pure strength, so she gets a good handful of hair into her hands and pulls. Calum immediately ceases with playful kisses a whimper falling over his throat. His grip slackens and he lets her pull his head up.She pushes away from him, settling onto the edge of the coffee table.

“Don’t laugh,” she warns.

Why would he laugh? All he can think about is the pleasure swimming in his veins. She peels her shorts away to reveal Wonder Woman underwear. “If you think those panties are gonna ruin this mood, you have got me all wrong.” Calum pushes shorts and underwear off, wiggling his fingers for her to crawl back onto his lap.

“My knees are already gonna be mad at me,” she teases, running her fingers over his length. It’s been way too long. Her mouth is already watering at the sight of him, mind already reminding her what he taste like. She stands, holding out her hands. Calum stands with her assistance before she’s pushing him into the wall.

“Shouldn’t you be the one against the wall?” he teases, but his laughter dies in his throat when she sinks to her knees. Her hands wrap around him with no apprehension and tug up.

“Hands behind your back please?”

Widening his stance a bit, Calum holds his hands behind his back, bracing into the wall. Her tongue and lips slips over with ease. There’s the initial moment of tensing before he relaxes into the sucking, slurping, tugging of her mouth and hands. She swirls around his length with the top of her tongue, flicking at head before sucking his back down her throat. “Fuck,” he hisses at the feeling of him hitting the back of her throat. She gags around him and pulls back for a moment.

His toes are curling. His hands are fists, have been for what feels like hours now, but knows are only minutes. She slurps some of the excess salvia, but the vibration sends a current through Calum’s body. “God-fuck, baby,” he whines, watching her. He wants nothing more than to grab a fistful of her hair, wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Oh, please, can I touch you?” his voice is just a pant.

He gets no answer. She just wants to bring him over the edge, just wants to hear the groan ripping over his throat. She’ll stop at nothing to hear it. Her hand pulls faster, her bobs become more swallow. But her pace is relentless. Calum feels like he’s chipping paint off her wails, but how hard he’s scratching to keep his hands in place. His hips rut into her mouth once, then a second time. He’s gonna come down her throat. Tearing his hands from behind his back, he grabs both sides of her face, stilling her. He gives another rut of his hips, hitting the back of throat. She gags around him and the sudden squeeze is all he needs. His groan tears over his throat. Calum drops his head into the wall, emptying himself into her. His vision stars for a moment until her nails dig into his thighs. Then he hisses from the pleasurable pain.

His breathe still gone, he brings his gaze back down to her, she’s got tears down her face. He pulls out of her mouth and she coughs. “Sorry,” he whispers, pulling her up. “I’m sorry.” Calum wipes her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, allowing her time to catch her breathe. Once he’s sure she’s breathing steadily, he pulls her in. He knows what he taste until on her tongue. But he just needs her close. Their kiss is soft. Arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies press close other. Calum lets his hands wander, sliding between her legs. She’s soaked, so much so, he slides in one finger giving test pumps before deciding he can easily insert a second.

She shudders against him, back bowing a little. Calum wraps his left arm around her, hoisting her into a studier position. “Come around my fingers, yeah, babycakes?”

Her words die in her throat as he pumps faster. Watching her, mouth hanging opening, the tiny sounds and moans falling over her lips, she reminds him of a painting come to life--nothing more perfect to him. Her latch around his neck tightens, her head dropping to his chest. He continues to push his fingers in and out of her curling up into the fleshy part of her. “Hmm, God,” she cries.

“That’s right,” he whispers into her ear. He drags his lips over her skin, kissing the parts he can reach, bending to nip at her collarbones.

“Calum,” she hums, her legs start to shake. She can’t stand hardly. She’s not going to be able to stand by herself, she thinks. The wave of orgasm crashes over her, hits her all at once. “God,” she shouts, voice straining and eventually giving out on her. Her mouth hangs open, clutching, clawing at Calum to keep up, to keep steady. He rides out the rest of high, feeling as her holds slackens.

Gently, he pulls his fingers out of her, bring them to his own lips. In her post orgasm haze, she can just register the sounds of Calum moans in her ears as he licks his fingers clean. She smiles up at him, tugging at his wrist. His hand in front of her she licks around the metal of his fingers, collecting her own arousal on her tongue. “Can’t let you have it all,” she grins, and then drops her head back into his chest.

“No,” he chuckles, “no you can’t. Clearly.” Both arms wrapped around her, they stay hugged together, his back still pressed into the wall.

“I will be able to walk in approximately 6.3 seconds. And it’ll be the bed for nap. Care to join me?” she laughs, sound muffled by his skin.

“Sounds good to me.”

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos #calum hood smut #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum 5sos #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer smut #5ssos smut #h writes #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin

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bloody-bee-tea · 5 years

Note

Ahhhhhhh I’m soooo in love with everything you write for the Eldrich Lan AU! We get to see so much soft xicheng and a content Jiang Cheng I luv him SM he deserves all the happiness ;-; I was wondering if you’d ever do a Wangxian one? That would be super cool, I feel like their dynamics would be fun to explore! Either way, I absolutely love your writing! I’m subscribed to you on ao3 and it makes me so excited when I get emails saying you uploaded hehe

Wangji Week 2020 Day 4

Previous part

Wherever the chaos is and Righteousness

Lan Wangji knows his reputation, knows what the people, common folk as well as other cultivators, say about him.

They praise his willingness to be where the chaos is, they admire him for upholding the honour of his sect in such an impressive way. They praise his righteousness, his sense of honour and his fairness.

They call him Hanguang-Jun, Bearer of Light, but Lan Wangji knows what they would call him if they knew what is under his human skin.

He has heard it before; monster, abomination. It wouldn’t be anything new.

Lan Wangji’s own mother has called him that; Lan Xichen believes Lan Wangji was too small to remember, but that is not true. He remembers it. It’s what pushed him to learn control as early as he did; suppressing his form and forming his human skin to the liking of his mother.

The few people who have found out over the years have hurled insults at him, tinged with fear and terror. None of them have survived long enough to tell the tale and spill the secrets of the Gusu Lan Sect.

No one had asked questions when Lan Wangji had killed more Wen cultivators than should have been humanly possible.

It’s how he likes it.

And Lan Wangji was happy to keep it that way, too. But then Wei Wuxian came back and now there is nothing but uncertainty in his heart and mind.

Wei Wuxian is where Lan Wangji always dreamed him to be, right by Lan Wangji’s side, and Wei Wuxian has promised to stay, a teasing tilt to his lips as he tangled his fingers in Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon that spilled over his back.

And Lan Wangji is unwilling to do anything that could make him leave.

He has already spend so much of his life without Wei Wuxian at his side, and he won’t risk it, not again. Lan Wangji knows that he is partly to blame for that; if he had managed more words, explained his intentions more clearly, then maybe Wei Wuxian would have listened to him, would have let him help.

Instead Lan Wangji remembers the feeling of absolute fear and bone chilling desperation when Wei Wuxian stepped closer to the edge and threw himself off it.

And Lan Wangji does not want to experience those feelings again, ever. So keeping quiet about his true nature, about the secret every Lan carries with them, it’s the only logical option.

And since Wei Wuxian is right by his side, and not questioning anything, Lan Wangji pushes those thoughts away. It’s easy to do when Wei Wuxian demands his attention anyway.

“Lan Zhan,” he hears Wei Wuxian call for him and Lan Wangji puts down the bunny in his arms, because he knows what will happen.

He hears Wei Wuxian approach, he’s not trying to be silent, and a second later he’s hanging off Lan Wangji’s shoulder, pouting over it when he finds Lan Wangji’s arms empty.

“Aww, you’re not holding one,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I wanted to pet one.”

“You jostle me,” Lan Wangji explains and gently shrugs Wei Wuxian off.

He doesn’t want to put the distance between them, but he does want to wipe the pout and small frown from Wei Wuxian’s face, so picking up one of the calmer bunnies is the only option he has here.

Wei Wuxian immediately reaches out to pet it when Lan Wangji offers it to him, but he doesn’t take it from his arms. They have learned that while the bunnies will allow Wei Wuxian to pet them when Lan Wangji is close, they will not stay still when Wei Wuxian is the one who holds them.

“They still only love you,” Wei Wuxian complains and Lan Wangji allows himself a small smile.

They do love him, and they have been a constant source of comfort in some of his darker days.

“I am still amazed that something so fluffy and small adores something like you,” Wei Wuxian offhandedly says, still concentrated on the bunny in Lan Wangji’s arms, so he doesn’t notice how Lan Wangji freezes up.

“What?” he forces himself to whisper and his heart beats painfully in his chest when Wei Wuxian gives him a look, a mix between a smile and a frown, showing his confusion at Lan Wangji’s reaction.

“What?” Wei Wuxian repeats, seemingly unaware of what he just said, and while Lan Wangji wishes he could be as oblivious, he can’t.

This isn’t just about him. It’s about his sect and the people he loves, too.

“What did you say?” he brings out and Wei Wuxian tilts his head in thought before he brightens up.

“Oh, I mean. I know it’s supposed to be a secret, and it’s not like I really know what you are, but, yeah. I know you’re not human. I thought I mentioned it before.”

“Wei Ying did not,” Lan Wangji mutters and carefully puts the bunny down again, stepping away from them, and from Wei Wuxian.

He’s shaking from head to toe, and it’s hard for him to keep his form in check. He always loses control when he gets emotional. It’s still a wonder he didn’t change when Wei Wuxian died, though Lan Wangji guesses it was pure shock that kept him human.

He doesn’t feel the same kind of shock now, so he stands up straight and tries to calm his mind.

“Lan Zhan, what’s wrong? You’re bunnies are all agitated,” Wei Wuxian says as he eyes the bunnies, who do seem more nervous than they normally do.

They flock to Lan Wangji, press against his legs, and Lan Wangji tries to concentrate on that.

His mind is still screaming at him, mostly questions—how did Wei Wuxian find out, what will he do with this knowledge, did he tell someone, when will he leave—and the horrible thought that he didn’t even get to enjoy Wei Wuxian’s company for a whole month.

Maybe his family really is doomed for tragic love stories.

“How long?” Lan Wangji asks, though he’s aware that is not the most important question.

He can’t bring himself to ask the most important ones. Do you hate me? Are you afraid of me? Disgusted? He’s not sure he can stand the answer.

“I—,” Wei Wuxian starts and instinctively reaches for Chenqing for comfort. “Since the Burial Mounds,” he finally admits with a self-deprecating smile. “Your energy, it’s closer to what I use in demonic cultivation than to those of humans. At first I thought it was just you, that I had somehow tainted you, but then I met Lan Xichen and other cultivators from your sect and I realized it isn’t just you.”

That’s a horribly long time.

“Who—,” Lan Wangji starts and then has to clear his throat, the fear and worry making him too emotional, “who did you tell?”

“Tell?” Wei Wuxian asks and he seems honestly affronted. “No one of course, Lan Zhan, I wouldn’t. And besides, who would even believe me?”

“Oh,” Lan Wangji gives back at that. “You know you don’t have to stay, right?” he then haltingly adds, because what if Wei Wuxian is just staying here out of fear?

Thinks he’s not allowed to leave, even though that’s all he wants to do.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says with a small chuckle and that sound does more to relax Lan Wangji than all his mental exercises in the last few minutes have managed. “I’m staying because I want to stay.”

Lan Wangji can hardly believe it—why would he want to stay if he knows Lan Wangji isn’t human—but every time Wei Wuxian reaches out for him, touches him without hesitation, is downright clinging to him, tells Lan Wangji that Wei Wuxian is here on his own free will.

“I never want to leave you, Lan Zhan, you have to know that.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head, because he didn’t know that, especially not with the recent revelation and Wei Wuxian bounds over, careful to not step on the bunnies that are still huddled close to Lan Wangji, but seem to be calming down.

“No matter what you are, you’re still my Lan Zhan. You’re still so good, how could you be anything else?”

Lan Wangji’s heart lights up at hearing that, the casual possessiveness in Wei Wuxian’s words, but he still stumbles over the start of that sentence.

“No matter what I am? Does Wei Ying not know?”

“No,” Wei Wuxian says with a shrug. “I just know that your energy is different. For all I know you could be a fluffy little cloud. It would explain why the bunnies love you so.”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Not a cloud,” he denies.

“But cute and fluffy?” Wei Wuxian teases and Lan Wangji relaxes further.

“Not cute and fluffy, either,” he gives back and Wei Wuxian heaves out a deep sigh.

“Oh no, Lan Zhan, then my imagination is all used up,” he pouts and throws his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, presses himself close. “Maybe you have to show me?”

“Shameless,” Lan Wangji says and tries desperately to not throw his arms around Wei Wuxian in return, because he isn’t sure he could ever let him go again.

“My form—its not nice to look at,” he finally admits and Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“Impossible. Lan Zhan is always nice to look at,” Wei Wuxian gives back, with a confidence Lan Wangji can only hope to possess and then he forgets to breathe when Wei Wuxian noses at his cheek. “Won’t you show me, my Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji’s thoughts are flying through his head; there are still a lot of variables to consider, and Wei Wuxian could still walk away from him when he sees what Lan Wangji really looks like, but then Wei Wuxian gives him his best puppy eyes and Lan Wangji is helpless against that.

“Step back,” he instructs Wei Wuxian who does so with apparent glee as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

Lan Wangji takes one last look at Wei Wuxian’s beautiful, radiant face, because maybe it’s the last time he gets to see it like that, and then he allows his true form to take over. The bunnies barely blink an eye at his transformation, they are used to it by now, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes get bigger and bigger in his head.

Lan Wangji doesn’t open all his eyes, keeps most of them hidden, and he keeps his tentacles close to his body as well, trying to appear as unthreatening as he can in this form. He doesn’t think about the imperfections that mar him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathes out and Lan Wangji prepares for the worst.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Wei Wuxian says, voice awed and at his words Lan Wangji’s entire form kind of melts.

“Look at all those tentacles,” Wei Wuxian calls out in clear delight and he fearlessly steps closer and immediately reaches out for one.

Lan Wangji can’t help but to meet him halfway, slides his tentacle up his arm and around his back to bring him close, and Lan Wangji didn’t know touching a human could feel like this.

It’s electrifying and relaxing all at once, but mostly it feels a lot like coming home. Lan Wangji cannot explain it at all.

A few of his eyes must have opened in shock as well, because Wei Wuxian gasps.

“So pretty,” he croons and pets Lan Wangji right under one of his eyes. “Still your beautiful eye colour.”

Right now, Lan Wangji is glad to be in this form, because at least here his ears can’t turn a bright red.

“Ah, you’ve been holding out on me,” Wei Wuxian complains as he steps right up to the mass centre of Lan Wangji. “How could you deny me of this?”

Lan Wangji is ashamed to find that the only answer he has to that is fear, and he hopes that he never has to tell Wei Wuxian that. He didn’t trust him, again.

“Ah, I see,” Wei Wuxian says and reassuringly pets the closest one of Lan Wangji’s tentacles. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Wei Wuxian tells him and Lan Wangji can’t help the inquiring noise he makes.

No one should understand him in this form.

“You’re not as hard to read as you think,” Wei Wuxian whispers conspiringly to him and then just lets himself fall into the middle of Lan Wangji, who immediately wraps him up in protective tentacles.

“This must be what heaven feels like,” Wei Wuxian mutters and then snuggles deeper into the embrace. “I love you, Lan Zhan.”

The shock of hearing those words, from Wei Wuxian, uttered to Lan Wangji in his true form, is enough to shock him back into human form.

“Noooo,” Wei Wuxian whines and slings his arms around Lan Wangji’s middle. “I wasn’t done cuddling.”

“Did you mean it?” Lan Wangji demands to know, and he’s sure that if he doesn’t get an answer immediately, he’s going to combust on the spot.

“Did I mean what?” Wei Wuxian asks, playfully blinking up at Lan Wangji.

“Wei Ying,” he scolds him and he can feel Wei Wuxian shudder against him.

“Of course I meant it, Lan Zhan. How could I not? I love you. Don’t you love me, too?”

Lan Wangji blinks a few times at that, his heart beating so fast in his chest and the relief making him light-headed, and he bends his neck down and hides his face in Wei Wuxian’s hair until he finds his voice again.

“I love you, too, Wei Ying,” he whispers and is rewarded with his favourite sound on the entire planet when Wei Wuxian laughs, happy and loud.

“Would have been embarrassing if you didn’t,” he whispers and then leans up on his tip-toes, his intent clear.

Lan Wangji has wanted to do this for so long, that the sheer prospect of finally getting to do it freezes him on the spot, but then Wei Wuxian’s lips are on his and there is no more hesitation.

Separating again is hard when Wei Wuxian darts in for little kisses and pecks again and again, and Lan Wangji is loathe to let go of him, so he simply doesn’t.

“You’re not afraid,” Lan Wangji can’t help but whisper eventually, because that knowledge is still blowing his mind a little bit, and Wei Wuxian laughs again.

“Not at all. You’re all mine and so pretty. How could I be afraid of you.”

The words are a balm for Lan Wangji’s soul and he buries his face in Wei Wuxian’s neck, breathing in deep and just revelling in the fact that he gets to have this at all.

He never dared to hope for this, but then again, Wei Wuxian always exceeds expectations. And Lan Wangji couldn’t be happier about it.

Next Part

#bt writes #the untamed #wangxian #mdzs #wangjiweek2020 #eldritch!lan #eldritch!lwj #the secret comes out #getting together #love confessions #first kiss #bunnies #they love their eldritch dad #anon #Anonymous

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