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hollyhomburg · 8 months ago

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Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give?

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage.

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too.

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring.

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway.

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?”

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?”

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child.

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but-

Namjoon would be a good father.

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach.

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in).

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty.

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image.

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

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darlingshane · 4 months ago

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hold on to me, darlin'

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: Shane is helping you locate your missing friends when you both get caught in a trap.

CW: fluff, crack, guns, making out, pet names, friends to lovers or something like that.

Word Count: 1,4k

A/N: This was inspired by a scene in Lost where Jack and Kate get caught in a net.

— Links: AO3 // Shane Masterlist.

Like a bloodhound following a scent, Shane stalks several paces ahead from you between the mass of trees and luscious greenery, scanning the grounds for the saviors trail.

It's still sweltering when the sun begins descending on the horizon. The humid air almost makes it impossible to veer through the woods, but you'll keep going until dark if you have to.

You've heard stories about them before, Negan and The Saviors, but you never came in close contact with them until this morning when they destroyed your campsite and took two people from your group. You're lucky you even came out unscathed from the encounter given their reputation.

Slowing down, you reach into your backpack to grab your bottle and take a gulp of warm water.

After tucking the bottle back into your pack, as your feet start moving again, you notice something white sticking out under a bush sitting under the shadow of a tree. Taking a step closer to the bush, you notice a baby doll wrapped in a blanket.

You decide to inspect it.

When Shane turns his head to see you reaching to pick up the dirty doll, he tries to warn you by calling your name, but it’s too late. The doll is an inch away from your hand and the only thing he can do is lunge fast, throw his body to tackle you down before you can touch it, but there’s no use. A trigger mechanism goes off right as his body collapses with yours, and you’re both suddenly yanked up 12 feet above the ground, trapped in a net.

The fear of falling and the ropes digging hard into one of your arms push your hands to clutch to his sides.

“Sorry,” you say, glancing down to see the ground shifting below.

“It’s alright, hold on to me, darlin’,” he pants. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Peachy,” he huffs, straining his voice as he tries to find a comfortable position. “If you wanted to try something like this you shoulda told me, sweetheart. I’m always game.”

“Huh? Are you hitting on me right now, Walsh?”

“Uh-uh, just sayin’ you didn’t have to go through all this trouble if you wanted to get close to me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

You can’t help but chuckle breathless as the constricting ropes keep you both hotly pressed front to front against the other, his body radiating just as much heat and sweat as yours. Trying to keep your balance, you move as little as possible. You look up to see a tightrope secured from one trunk to a parallel one, and a second set of ropes lined up vertically with the trees that keeps the net up with your weight. It feels like you're about to fall, but the good news is that the trap seems well-crafted enough to hold you both for a while. The bad news is that you need to get out of it before whoever went to all this trouble to set something like this up comes back to reap their rewards.

“This wasn’t for walkers,” you assume by the doll used as bait.

“Yeah, guess it wasn’t,” Shane swings the net when he attempts to unfold his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Tryna grab my gun,” he grunts. “Can’t get my arm around.”

“Where is it?”

“At the back of my pants.”

Of course, it is.

“All right, let me.” You struggle to move your arms too, but you manage to curl them around his waist and blindly find his gun that’s tucked in the waistband of his cargo pants. His skin is wet with sweat under your fingers as you make your way to the handle. With your dominant hand, you carefully grab it, securing a tight grip around it.

“You got it?”

“Yeah, I’m trying not to shoot your ass,” it takes you a moment to retrieve it as the net keeps crushing you against his chest.

“Please don’t,” he scoffs.

“Got it, got it,” you finally say when you manage to bring your arm back to your front.

“Okay, give it to me.”

“Why? What for?”

“I’m gonna shoot the rope,” he points at the vertical rope that’s keeping you up.

“I can do it. I’m a better shot than you.” you stretch the net with your free hand, and stick your opposite arm, holding the weapon, through one of the squares in the net.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Told you I grew up hunting with my dad.”

“Then, go ahead, sweetheart.”

Drawing a breath, you level your aim, keeping yourself as steady as you can before pulling the trigger, letting him watch you miserably fail when you take your shot.

“Damn it!”

“Can I get a turn now?”

“You gonna waste another bullet?”

“Don't worry. We'll still have thirteen more to shoot each other with.”

Handing the gun to Shane, you say, “you have a better angle than me anyway.”

“That's gonna be your excuse when l make the shot?” The corner of his mouth curls up as he gets into position.

You watch him closely pushing his arm between the ropes with an even pulse pulling the trigger a second before promptly falling along with him down to the ground. He lands on his back with you on top of him.

“Nice shot,” you hold your palms to his chest to push yourself up, but your body takes a second to bounce from the falling.

“Nice landing,” he raises a brow, squeezing the sides of your hips as you both start laughing.

Pressing your forehead against his breastplate as your laugh runs out, you draw a long breath before carefully pushing yourself off him.

You stand up first, and you offer your hand up to him. He grabs it, and pulls himself up with your help.

Shane kicks the discarded net under a bush as you adjust your backpack to your shoulders. You keep moving, upping your pace before anyone comes to respond to the sound of those two bullets you’ve fired.

Focused on your mission you keep walking until the sun is fully set. By that time the trail is nearly lost thanks to the undead that have managed to aid them into covering their tracks.

You made camp for the night in a spot near a stream for the night.

In the stillness of the night, while Shane circles the perimeter a couple of times you rinse the sweet off your face and chest using the cooling water from the stream to freshen up your skin. Then, you use your makeshift water filter to fill up your bottles.

Sitting crisscrossed at the bank of the stream, you notice Shane’s shadow drawn in the water by the bouncing moonlight on the water.

He crouches besides you, propping the butt of his shotgun on the dirt.

“I’ll take the first shift, you should get some sleep while you can, sweetheart.”

“It’s alright. I don’t think I can sleep right now.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll catch up with them tomorrow.”

“How? We’ve lost the trail.”

“I think I know where they’re going.”

“Yeah? Where?”

“There’s a radio station only a couple of miles up. I heard once there was a group of them holing up there. We’ll try that at first light.”

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say, glancing at him. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

“Why?”

Shane scoffs at your question, “why? Guess I owed you for letting me into your group. You didn’t have to do that either.”

“Is that the real reason you came?”

His head shakes, “I came cause I like you. But you already knew that.”

Your cheeks heat up as you look down for a beat.

“You’re going to tell me you didn’t know, darlin’?”

“No, no… I knew,” you quickly respond, drawing a smile as you gaze at him once more.

“Well, what do you think about it? Do I have a chance here or not?” His head tilts to the side with a boisterous grin illuminating his face in the dark.

“I’d say you have a chance or two,” you mirror his expression.

“Yeah?”

Though the last thing you need right now is getting distracted by his charm, when his head leans closer to print a kiss on your lips, you don’t move your head away. You let his delicious lips bounce twice against yours before opening your mouth to invite him in to taste something deeper. He shifts on the ground for a better position as his tongue slowly draws the shape of your mouth. You find yourself shifting with him and without almost realizing you end up pinned beneath his body as he explores the depths of your mouth.

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #twd #twd fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction #darlingwrites

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chdarling-tle · 4 months ago

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The Last Enemy: Dark Marks Soundtrack

Hello my loves! With TLE2 coming to a close, I thought I'd share the full TLE2 soundtrack. You can listen to it here, or I've included the track list below for those who don't use Spotify.

As before, this is a total mishmash of period appropriate and anachronistic music. The genres are all over the place. Some songs directly correlate to the plot, some songs are mentioned in the story, some are pure vibes. It's pretty long...but so is TLE2. 😌

Enjoy!!!

Track list under the cut:

The Times They Are A-Changin’ - Fort Nowhere

She Used To Love Me a Lot - Johnny Cash

Never Had No One Ever - The Smiths

Cherry Bomb - The Runaways

Father and Son - Cat Stevens

Water Under the Bridge - Tow’rs

She’s Not There - The Zombies

Break On Through (To The Other Side) - The Doors

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - George Harrison

Raining in My Heart - Buddy Holly

Family Line - Conan Gray

With a Little Help From My Friends - Joe Anderson (Across the Universe)

Love Hurts - Roy Orbison

It’s Alright - Mother Mother

Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood - Nina Simone

Play With Fire - The Rolling Stones

Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks

Blue Suede Shoes - Elvis Presley

The Princess Diaries Waltz (Score) - John Debney

Astronomy - Conan Gray

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Judy Garland

Dead Mom - Sophia Anne Caruso

Vincent - Don McLean

You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away - The Beatles

Mis-Shapes - Pulp

Golden Years - David Bowie

It’s a Heartache - Bonnie Tyler

Stayin Alive - Bee Gees

Dancing Queen - ABBA

I’d Love to Change the World - Ten Years After

Be More Kind - Frank Turner

One Toke Over the Line - Brewer & Shipley

Flying - The Beatles

Baba O'Riley - The Who

Villain - Maisie Peters

Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) - Buzzcocks

Will the Circle Be Unbroken - The Carter Family, Johnny Cash

This Woman's Work - Kate Bush

April Come She Will - Simon & Garfunkel

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - Taylor Swift

For What It's Worth - Buffalo Springfield

You Belong to Somebody Else - PJ Harding, Noah Cyrus

Know Your Rights - The Clash

Broken Crown - Mumford & Sons

Fire - Etta James

Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Bob Dylan

Lily - Benjamin Gibbard

Dancing Queen - stories, Lizzy McAlpine

God Only Knows (Acoustic Slowed + Reverb) - Jae Hall

Homeward Bound - Simon & Garfunkel

Back to the Old House - The Smiths

New World Coming - Cass Elliot

...and one more secret song that I'll add after chapter 71 ;)

#tle2 #the last enemy: dark marks

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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years ago

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Very first time; Jack Kline x reader smut

*Author’s note*

Okay well this has been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for awhile but after a few weeks of work and planning (and some major procrastinating) I FINALLY came around and got to this request so @gabrielasilva1510 this is for you and thank you for being soo patient with me.

Now this is a SMUT fic so there is some sexual content in here so any minors that follow me LOOK AWAY!!!! DO. NOT READ THIS STORY!!! it’s not hardcore smut but still a smut story nevertheless.

Warnings: sexual content, fluff, camping fun, P in V sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), references to other fandoms and movies.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

__________________________________________________________

I was putting the sleeping bags as well as the tent set into the jeep while Jack was coming in bringing the cooler with the drinks.

“You sure the drinks won’t get warm on the way up there?” he asked me.

“Babe that’s why we’re getting ice at the gas station. Besides this jeep needs gas too while we’re at it because somebody forgot to fill the tank!” I proclaimed while turning to Sam.

“Okay how long are you gonna hang this over my head?”

“As long as it takes. You know how many times Dean and I have told you about that? Whoever gets the gas tank under a 100 miles, fills the tank.”

“See even she can remember the rules.” Said Dean coming in eating a ham, turkey, pastrami and bacon sandwich he had made. Sam rolled his eyes and I said after closing the back door.

“Okay I think that’s everything.”

“So we can leave now?” asked Jack excitedly. I nodded.

“I still don’t feel comfortable with you two going on this camping trip by yourselves.” Dean said.

“Dean, just because many of our early cases took place during a camping trip doesn’t mean it’ll happen to us. Unlike those guys, we know the warning signs for Wendigo’s, werewolves, vamps and even faeries.” Dean glowered at me at mentioning the fairy thing to him.

“Did you at least pack the basic protection?” Sam asked.

“And not just against monsters.” Dean added. My face went red and Jack started to say.

“You mean protection as in con—”

“Do you really need to say that Dean? We’re not gonna do anything like that!”

“Can’t go wrong. Plus I don’t want you coming back and making us uncles just yet.”

“Jesus you are such a pervert.” I groaned.

“But seriously (Y/n), you do have some form of protection? In both matters.” Sam asked me.

“Yes Sam and please don’t agree with Dean about the latter suggestion.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay Jack get in the car, we’re outta here.” He did as I told him and I got into the driver seat and started the engine. “See you bitches in a week. And do me a favor, don’t blow this place up while we’re gone or have another end of the world crisis on our hands.”

“We’re Winchesters, we make no such promises.” Dean said as he munched on his sandwich once again.

“Have a good time you two, be safe.” Sam told us.

“Yes Ranger Sam.” I teased before putting the jeep into drive and soon Jack and I left the bunker garage and drove down the road to the nearest gas station to get ice as well as fill up the car.

After doing all that and filling the cooler with ice for the drinks, I got back into the jeep and started up the engine.

“Okay Jack, since we’ve got full control over the radio, what genre of music shall it be today?”

“I did enjoy that 80’s playlist you made. Especially after you showed me that show Odd Things.”

“You mean Stranger things babe. Alright 80’s it is.” I went through my phone and opened up my music playlist and scrolled through until I found my 1980s Greatest songs playlist. Sure Dean may say that everything after 1979 sucks, but he clearly hadn’t heard some of these artists like Kate Bush, Prince, Queen’s later music in the 80’s, Whitney Houston, A-Ha, and of course my man Phil Collins.

I first played the song ‘In the Air tonight’ to get us started on the open road. Jack particularly began to realize why I loved Phil Collins so much. Yeah he was cool in his Genesis days but when he branched out into his solo career, the dude truly shined.

After an almost 2 hour drive and almost reaching the end of our playlist with Cyndi Lauper we arrived at the camp grounds. I parked the car and both Jack and I got out of the car and stretched ourselves out before entering the check-in lodge before we had to drive to our reserved camping spot.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” the woman behind the desk said.

“Hi we’re checking into lot A113, reservation is under Winchester.” She typed up my reservation on the laptop and said.

“(Y/n) Winchester?”

“That’s me.”

“Great, and you’re staying with us for a week. Here’s a map of all the areas you can hike, or visit the various lounges or restaurants we’ve got here. And for staying here a week with us that’ll be $210.25 will that be cash or credit?”

“Credit, please.” I said getting out my card and handing it to her. A quick swipe and the payment was done.

“Okay you are all set. Hope you and your boyfriend have a good time.”

“Oh we will, especially after the few months we had. We deserve this.” I said putting my card away and gathering up the stuff she had handed me. I saw Jack admiring some of the portrait paintings along the wall and took his hand. “C’mon babe, let’s get to our spot and set up camp.” He nodded and I guided him out the lodge and we went back into the car.

I turned the engine on and drove off towards our camping spot. Good thing about this camp ground is that while we are out in the woods, there was still access to bathrooms, showers, and of course food joints and restaurants. Plus everyone has their own private little spot to make their camp so no one has to be cramped in a giant forest space.

Jack and I looked around until he spotted the signs that lead us to our section and as we drove down the trail I softly let out a yes as I fist bumped.

“Thank god the showers aren’t that far away.”

“That’s a good thing right?”

“I mean I don’t mind the walk but still, it’s better for night time shower people like me. I mean seriously I don’t get why people shower in the mornings, you’re just gonna get sticky and gross at the end of the day and I don’t wanna sleep like that.”

“That is strange. Glad you told me about it when I was first trying to understand the ways of humans.”

“There are certain things my brothers can teach you but everything else, just ask me. I got your back.”

“Just as I got yours.” He said as he placed his hand on top of mine. I smiled and gave it a loving squeeze as he pointed out. “Is that us?”

“Uhh yeah this is us.” I turned along the gravel road and pulled into our little hill mound parking spot and turned the engine off. “We’re here at last. No more driving for the rest of the day please.”

“You know I could’ve drove us from the check-in lodge. Dean says I’ve been improving with Baby.”

“I know you have sweetie but driving Baby and driving this jeep are two totally different things. Plus you haven’t gotten enough experiences on dirt road like these. All the bumps, twists and turns and I’m not that good of a driving teacher. As I’m sure my brother told you, I was a wreck when learning to drive Baby. Can’t do a stick to save my ass.”

“It’s not that hard once you get used to it. Maybe I could teach you.”

“As sweet as that is, one Dean would never let you do that and two I don’t want to ever drive Baby again.” I pecked his cheek and continued, “C’mon, let’s unload the car.” We unbuckled ourselves and got out of the jeep as I opened the back door and first grabbed the cooler while Jack grabbed the tent.

After unloading the car and unfolding the tent from the bag, Jack got the bag that was filled with the tacks and poles that we needed to keep the tent in place and standing up.

“Okay so—I’ve never really put a tent up before but I have seen people do it in tv and movies. Is it really as hard as they show it?” asked Jack.

“Depends on the tent, luckily for us this tent it’s fairly easy to put up. Mind helping me spread out the tent first before we get the poles and tacks down?” he nodded and came over and went on the other side of the tent. Together we grabbed each end of the tent and pulled it as far apart as we could. “Okay now grab that bag with the poles and tacks.” He looked around until he saw just a few feet to his left was the bag.

He tossed it over to me and I opened it up and pulled out the poles first.

“Now what I want you to do is connect this set first and I can do the other set. Once they’re connected, I’ll show you how to put them through the tent.” He grabbed the first set of poles and began to connect them together while I did the second row.

“Like this?” he showed me after he had gotten one set together already.

“That’s it. Make sure they’re in as tight as you can get them. Can’t risk the tent caving in on itself.” I said as I twisted my set in before they finally connected with each other.

It took a few minutes but we finally got our poles connected and then I showed him where the poles would go through the tent. We did his connected set first and I guided it through the right side of the tent, going towards the top and then coming down the other side before sticking it down into the earth. We did the same for the other side (that’s where the major work comes in cause you have to guide it over the previous pole set).

“You sure you weren’t lying when you’d say it’d be easy?” Jack said with a grunt as he tried to maneuver my pole set over his at the top each time I pulled the second pole down.

“This is always the tricky part no matter what. But trust me Jack, I’ve seen tents so complex to build up I’m surprised they’re not banned from camping gears. Don’t worry we got this, just a little more……” finally I managed to get the starting point out the end of the tent and stick it into the earth as well. “There we go. Now for the tacks to make sure they stay down.”

I jogged back over to where I had the bag and pulled out the tacks as well as the mini-mallet that came with it. After setting each tack down, I told Jack to get the rain roof to go on top of the tent just in case it rained (there was a chance in the next couple of days but it’s better to get it out now rather than later).

He went back to the tent back and pulled the tarp-like roof from the bag and together we worked to maneuver around the tent to place the rain-proof roof on top of the tent. Once it was one, we stepped back and we wrapped an arm around each other and I said.

“We did it babe. Our home for the next week.”

“I can’t wait to sleep in it. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like sleeping in a tent after you showed me that camping episode from your favorite childhood show.”

“Well let’s get the sleeping bags and all the other stuff inside and you can see for yourself.” We walked over and grabbed the sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, and our backpacks. I unzipped the circular door and once the flaps came down I bowed and said. “Right this way good sir.”

“Thank you.” He said with a bow of his head before getting in with me following suit.

Some would call it overboard since this tent is said to fit five people but I wanted Jack to have the full experience of being in a tent. And just seeing his face in full awe as he looked around.

“It’s almost like being in a cave. And not like those Wendigo ones either.” I nodded.

“It’s got where it counts. But if it’s too much I can send this back and just get a two person one.”

“No please don’t. I love it. Very spacious, plenty of space for all our stuff. But can also be intimate for snuggling together.” Jack said as he came up close to me, wrapping his arms around me. I smiled as he buried his face into my neck.

“Okay sweetie, let’s find a spot in this cave of ours to put our sleeping bags at.” We crawled through the tent and decided that our bags could be spread out in the middle of the tent. Our backpacks could go right up at the wall where our heads would be. We set the backpacks down before unrolling our sleeping bags and placing down our pillows and blankets.

“So what shall we do first?” Jack asked me with a smile as he padded his pillow.

“Well there’s a few things I’d like to get at the lodge like firewood and see if there’s any icebags they sell. I know our cooler is basically a thermos but you can’t be too careful especially with as long as we’re staying.”

“Okay so firewood and ice. Then what do you want to do?”

“This camping trip isn’t just about me sweetie. This is your first camping trip, what do you want to do?” I took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Can we go hiking?”

“Then hiking it is. Maybe we’ll even see some wild animals while we’re out and about.” He smiled and I could almost see my sweet baby boy bouncing on his knees. “Now let me see, the lodge from our campsite is about how far?” I said as I took out the map from my pocket. “Okay so we’re here,” I said pointing to our spot, “And the lodge is….” I trailed my finger upward until I saw the main lodge. “Oh sweet we don’t even have to walk very far. It’s just out of this reserved area and up a forest hill track and boom we’re there.”

“You seemed to have gotten us a lucky spot. You sure you didn’t check ahead of time?” Jack teased.

“Babe I swear, this was the only camping spot available at the time I was making the reservation.” Jack looked at me with a playful skeptical look but let it go. “Okay go ahead doubt me, but they don’t call me (Y/n) ‘Lucky-shot’ Winchester for nothing.”

“Who calls you that?”

“Me. I do. And Charlie, and Jody, and the rest of the girls of the Wayward sisters. Dean calls it dumb luck but I have saved his ass more times than I can count. Plus some of my luck must’ve bounced off of them, with as many times as my brothers get knocked out. I’m surprised they still remember their own names.”

“They do get knocked out quite a bit.” Jack agreed.

“Right!?”

Once we got our backpacks packed with just enough stuff for the hike, Jack had decided to come up with me to get the firewood as well as see if there was an ice-dispenser up at the lodge. After finding and purchasing a couple bags of firewood, we headed back to our campsite and Jack placed the two bags of firewood near the car while I opened up my bag and we began to place the wood into the firepit.

“When it gets dark, we can start the fire. They’ll be fine sitting in the firepit for a while. So shall we begin your first ever hike?”

“I hope I packed everything right. I triple-quadruple checked just like you told me.”

“Good boy. Oh before I forget, here.” I reached into my pack and pulled out a bag that contained some whistles and got two of them out. “Put this around your neck.” I handed him the yellow whistle while I took the blue one.

“What do we need whistles for?”

“Well we can’t risk you using your powers in front of other people and freaking them out. So in the event if one of us gets lost, stay where you are, hug a tree and blow your whistle.”

“Okay I understand.” I patted his shoulder as he hung his whistle around his neck. “Can we go now?” he said bouncing on his feet.

“Yes sweetie we can. Follow me first time camper.” I walked ahead with Jack walking close behind me and we proceeded towards the hiking trail.

Throughout our hike we would stop to take pictures of some beautiful landscapes, tightrope across logs, and even got to see a few animals. Like this one point in the hike we came across a cute rabbit. Normally when a rabbit sees you, it wants to run but this rabbit as soon as it saw Jack, it got curious.

It hopped over to him and allowed Jack to reach out with his hand and gave him a sniff. It even allowed Jack to stroke it’s back before taking off back into the woods. Of course using my phone with it on silence, I snapped some good pictures of the encounter and promised to have those developed when we got home.

We even met up with some other hikers and found a special lodge where we could observe the local bears from a safe distance using binoculars. And along the walls of the lodge were paintings as well as facts about bears that the kids could read. And bless his heart, he shared with me all the facts he never knew about bears (even though I knew about most of them but I didn’t have the heart to stop him. He’s like a puppy).

For the rest of the day we hiked, had lunch, took photos and even talked with some other hikers until it started to get dark so Jack and I decided to head back to our camp for some supper as well as introduce him to the King of all camp snacks, S’mores.

We got back to camp and I started the fire while Jack got out the hotdogs, ramen, and smores stuff. We ate our supper and just as it was starting to get darker, I thought it was now time for Jack to try his very first smore.

“Okay Jack, the perfect way to make a smore is this.” I said gathering the smore supplies. “First you take the graham, and then you break apart a piece of chocolate. Then you stick the chocolate on the graham.” I said demonstrating the process, “then you roast the ‘mallow.” I said sticking my poker with the marshmallow into the firepit until it was burnt to a crisp. “Once it’s nice and crispy, you stick the mallow onto of the chocolate, then you take the other graham and smoosh it together. And last and certainly my favorite part.” I took a big bite before telling him with my cheeks stuffed with melted marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers, “You stuff yourself!”

“I’ve always wanted to ask, why are they called that? Smores?”

“Because you always want some more.” He laughed at the corny joke. “babe I swear, you’ll find out that it ain’t just a joke. Go on.” I handed him his poker as well as the marshmallow bag.

He did as I told him in the exact order it needed to be done but just before he took that first bite I told him to wait as I got my phone out and went to my camera and switched it to video.

“Trust me, I’m gonna wanna keep this. Okay take a bite now.” I said as I pressed the record button. He lifted the smore to his mouth and took that first bite. Already his marshmallow oozing down his fingers as he tried to take in as much as he could without over stuffing his mouth.

I watched as his eyes widened and he let out a loud moan as he threw his head back.

“Didn’t I tell you? Makes you want to stuff like 10 of them after you eat your first smore.”

“This is…..” he chewed it up more before finally swallowing it and he continued, “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Even better than nougat?” I asked exasperatedly.

“You know nothing will ever take the place of nougat in my heart.”

“Damn and I thought I could convert you.” I said stopping the recording.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wonder what a smore would taste like with nougat.”

“You keep that blasphemous excuse of chocolate away from the sacred smores! They are made with Hershey’s milk chocolate bars and they shall stay that way!” I said defending my precious smores honor.

“I still don’t see why you hate nougat so much?”

“I told you it’s a disgusting, excuse of a chocolate bar! They make it look like a chocolate bar but they got in stuff that shouldn’t go together BLECH!!” Jack rolled his eyes.

“One day I’ll convert you to appreciate my lovely nougats.”

“The day that happens is the day that Rowena allows Hell for freeze over.” We continued to snack on the smores until we were stuffed and we decided that now would be a good time to shut ourselves in the tent for the night.

We safely disposed of the trash and put the food in the spare cooler and I locked it up tight so that no bears would come by. Jack doused the fire and I turned on the lantern as we entered inside the tent. I hung the lantern on the little hook just above our heads and we got our sleeping bags ready for the night.

“Hey (Y/n).”

“Yes Jack?” I asked as I was spreading out my two fleece blankets over my sleeping bag.

“Guess what this is.” I turned towards him and saw him making shadow puppets using the lantern above us. It was a long serpent like creature but it wasn’t a snake.

“A Chinese water dragon?”

“Right! Now you do one.”

“Okay but be warned I’m nowhere as good as you.” I clasped my hands together and raised up my right index and tall finger and bent them a bit for the antlers. With the rest of my fingers I molded the face and nose and asked him, “Any guesses?”

“Those things on top are they—horns?”

“Close.”

“Oh no wait they’re antlers. Is it a deer?”

“Sure is.”

“Okay, okay my turn again. Umm…..Oh I got it! You won’t be able to get this.” I saw the silhouette of what almost looked like a musk ox but I knew it wasn’t.

For one it was even bulkier than the ones I’ve seen online, and the horns on it were way too long and swirled inward too much. I knew there was no way this was a ram due to its large size. Until it finally hit me.

“Oh I know exactly what this is!”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do. What you don’t think I know a Tusken raider’s mighty steed the Bantha?”

“You’re good.” I shrugged cockily.

“Gave you your Star Wars knowledge, remember you must my young padawan.” I said in my best worst Yoda impression. He laughed as he brought me in close to him, our hands intertwining with each other’s while his free arm stroked patterns on my lower back and my free hand rested on his knee.

We looked into each other’s eyes and I could feel my heart racing faster the longer I looked into his innocent yet striking blueish-green eyes. He raised our intertwined hands up and placed my palm against his cheek before covering it with his own.

“(Y/n) I—I love you.”

“I love you too Jack.”

“No I mean. I like, really, really love you. So much so that I think I…..” I noticed how his adam’s apple slightly bounced as he swallowed anxiously and his jaw went tense as he turned away from me. In fact I could just see the poor boy tensing up.

“Jack, Jack look at me.” He hesitated but he turned his head back to face me. I moved my hand to his jawline and stroked it gingerly. “You know you can tell me anything right?” he nodded.

“I just……don’t want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared? Jack remember what we promised each other when we first started dating?”

“No keeping secrets like my brothers.” Jack repeated.

“Exactly. So c’mon out with it babe. What’s on your mind?”

“I…..” he sighed deeply but took another deep breath before saying. “As I said before, I really, really love you. And I know we talked about how far we want this relationship to go and you told me how when the time is right, we could—take things to the next step and……I want to do that.”

Oh……wow that’s—that is definitely something that should not be kept inside. I mean we have been dating for the past 3 years now after 6 years of knowing each other. And yeah he’s not the only pure-white virgin of the team (I still got the dragon scar to prove that).

“Wow. Okay that—”

“I probably made things awkward now, didn’t I?” he groaned as he scooted away from me pacing around the tent. “I’m such an idiot! Why did I have to open my big mouth and say that?! I—” I stopped him by grabbing his biceps and interrupted his ranting.

“Hey! Hey Jack! Jack!” he stopped to look at me. “To say I’m surprised that that is what you had buzzing around your brain for is a lot to take in. But I’m glad you told me. And I think we should sit down and talk so you hear what I have to say now.” He nodded nervously as we came back to our sleeping bags, the two of us sitting across from one another.

I took his hands and gave them a soft squeeze before starting.

“Jack. These past several years of knowing you have been—the best in my life. I have never felt this type of love towards any other guy. Now you know that I’m a virgin too right?”

“Yes that was the first thing you told me because you were worried I’d break up with you because you didn’t have experience.” My face flushed as I cleared my throat.

“Yeah because most guys prefer experiences and one night stands rather than taking care of their girl afterwards. But anyways the point is, with you—I felt like I was getting the perfect guy. Cute, brave, loyal, kind, funny, protective but not possessive, well-mannered. Some days I couldn’t believe just shortly after we began dating that you were real.”

“I care about you (Y/n).”

“And I care about you Jack. Which is why I think—no I know that I’m ready too.” His eyes slowly went wide.

“You—you are?”

“Yeah. Going on this camping trip without my brothers constant helicoptering or even Cas suddenly popping up before us, the fun we both had together and showing you what it meant to go on a camping trip I—I feel like I’m ready to take the next step, so long as you were.”

“Because consent goes both ways.” Jack said.

“Exactly. But there is one thing I am concerned about.” He tilted his head like a puppy before asking me.

“What?”

“Well we’re in a public campground. And yes although we have our private section we’re not entirely alone. Plus the rangers do their nightly patrol to make sure no troublemakers are out and about. And from what I remembering hearing all those girls with Dean. Don’t ask! I uhh—”

“I can take care of that.” This time I tilted my head and looked at him questioningly. Of course I knew nephilims are powerful beings but what can we do that’ll not get us kicked out or worse scarring an innocent child?

His eyes glowed their sunshine gold for a few seconds before they phased back to his normal eye color.

“No one should bother us now. Whatever we do in this tent won’t be heard on the outside.”

“You made this tent sound-proof?”

“Yeah. Watch.” He then let out his angelic-like scream which sounded like a boat horn times 20. I covered my ears until he stopped and he gestured for me to look outside the tent. I went over to the door, unzipped it and peeked out and saw that no one had woken up, or started asking just what that unholy scream was. I zipped the door backup and said.

“Wow. You never cease to amaze me.” He cutely shrugged as I sat back down in front of him wrapping my arms around his neck. “So….shall we get busy?” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I would—like that. What do we uhh do first?”

“Well typically it’s best to get warmed up first before we get to the final stretch.”

“Warmed up? What you mean like exercise?” I giggled as I shook my head.

“No babe. I mean like making out. Touching each other, that kinda stuff.”

“So like what we normally do when your brothers aren’t around?”

“Bingo.”

“I already know some of the things you like, will that help?”

“Yeah. So—you ready Jack?” he nodded as I slowly leaned in and captured his lips with mine.

I felt his hands come up to cup my jawline as our kissed slowly deepened. Our tongues coming together for a slow, passionate dance as I felt myself slowly being lowered down onto our sleeping bags and blankets. After the need for air became too much, we separated from each other but our noses softly grazed against the other’s as our breaths danced across the other’s face.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked me.

“So long as I get to take yours off.” He nodded and I was the first to remove his shirt before he lifted mine off. As soon as my bare upperbody (minus the bra I had on) was exposed to him, Jack almost seemed entranced. He stroked through all the scars I’ve gotten over the years from various cases and points in my life.

“Did they hurt?” he said stroking the dragon scar I got when I was 14 years old.

“That one did for a while, others it just depended on how deep or dangerous the creature was.”

“It’s like a painting. Like connect the dots but with scars.” He said as he slowly traced over each scar then began connecting them into various shapes and patterns. “Like the constellations in the night sky.” I felt tears in my eyes and even felt one slid down my face. Before I could catch it, Jack’s thumb gingerly wiped it away as he hovered over me.

He once again captured my lips as his hands slowly trailed down to my chest just short of my bra. I separated from his lips and whispered to him.

“Put your hands on me Jack.” He kissed my lips again as his hands were now on top of my boobs. Gently and affectionately groping them through the bra which sent shivers down my spine. I let out a soft moan as his lips moved from my mouth to the side of my neck.

I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his frame and felt his lips kiss, nip and lick at my neck. I gasped as he got a favorite weak spot of mine. Arching my back I reached behind and unhooked my bra exposing my bare breasts to the cool air but they were soon encompassed by Jack’s hands.

“They’re soft.” I heard him whisper in my neck.

“Would you like to kiss them Jack?”

“Is that what you want?” I nodded. He kissed my shoulder before moving across my collar bone. Slowly with each kiss he went lower and lower until he came to my right breast and began kissing it.

My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I stretched my arms out and gripped my pillow so tightly I could feel my nails through the sheets. Jesus no wonder why those girls were always moaning in Dean’s room if this is what it feels like. His lips soon encompassed my right nipple and I felt him gently suck on it which caused me to wrap my hands over his head to keep him there. Stroking and even slightly pulling on his golden locks which caused him to moan.

And hearing him moan while he sucked on my nipple sent a pleasurable feeling down to my lower region. After a few seconds he released my nipple before looking back up at me. I adjusted our position so that I was now on top of him and began kissing his neck.

He let out a few choked gasps as I kissed lower down towards his chest before coming back up again. His arms wrapped around me tightly as I nipped at the junction on the left side of where his neck and shoulder met. After leaving a fairly nice little hickey I knew would form there, Jack and I stared at each other’s eyes once again panting softly.

“So we uhh—” he asked.

“If you wish to continue. Yeah we-we can.” I said clearing my throat as I was still slightly dizzy from the pleasure that had made me blind for a moment back there.

“Do I or do you remove our umm…..”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess I could do it if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah. I trust you (Y/n).” I softly smiled and gently pecked his lips before I placed my hands at the rim of his sleep pants and looked at him one last time.

“You ready?” I asked him. He nodded giving me consent before I reached in to not only grab his sleep pants but also his boxers as I slowly scooted them off his surprisingly silky-smooth legs. Once they were off, I then reached for my own pants and underwear and slowly removed them until we were as naked as told in the tale of Adam and Eve.

“So I—guess I just….put it inside you?” he asked me. “How do I know if I—”

“I think we’ll cross that bridge once we get there. Just….be gentle, okay?” he stroked a strand of hair out of my face.

“Always.” He pecked my lips once more before having me return on the bottom while he resumed his position on top of me. Our foreheads pressed together as he leaned down and kissed me and I felt him enter inside me.

I let out a hiss of pain and let out a painful groan, he stopped and looked down at me concerned.

“Should we stop? I’m hurting you aren’t I? I swear I’m not trying to it’s just….”

“I know Jack. Just…..let me get adjusted. Keep still for a moment.” I eased his anxiety by cupping his face into my hands. He nodded and kept still as I told him while I got used to feeling him inside of me. I took a few deep breaths before telling him, “Okay I’m ready.”

“You sure?” I nodded. He slowly pushed further inside of me kissing my neck any time I groaned or hissed in pain. His hands gently massaged my back and hips as he applied the right pressure to get my muscles to relax with each push he did.

Once we got pass the painful stage of the first time, there suddenly came a wave of pleasure as Jack slowly began pumping himself in and out of me. My mouth opened in an O shape as I gasped and grunted and Jack did the same as he kept thrusting in and out.

“Oh Jesus! Oh Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack! Holy shit that fee-Ahh!”

“I know. It……it’s good for…..me too.” He said through his grunts. We wrapped our arms around the other as we feverishly and passionately kissed each other. Our tongues dancing a sloppy dance as Jack continued to hit all the right spots.

“I—I’m gonna…..please Jack. Let us cum together!”

“Is-is that what—what that feeling is? Cause I UGH! I want to cum too.”

“Let us go—toge—together.” He nodded as he picked up the pace and our grunts and howls mixed in together until finally we came together. Jack collapsed on top of me, his head resting on my shoulder while I kept my arms wrapped around him stroking through his hair.

He looked into my eyes as I felt him trembling under my fingers. The small bangs on his head clung onto his forehead as small beads of sweat sat upon his brow.

“You’re trembling.” I whispered.

“I’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

“That was…..the second best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”

“What was the first?”

“Getting you into Star Wars.” We softly chuckled as I placed my hand on the back of his head, leaned it down so that I could kiss his forehead and he rested his head on my bare chest.

“Is this what it feels like afterwards? I think Dean called it afterglow.” Jack asked me.

“More or less. But it’s even better than I could imagine.” I felt Jack cuddle into my sternum and even giving my collarbone a soft kiss.

“You—don’t think your brothers are gonna find out about this, do you?”

“If they do, I’ll handle it. I’m not a little girl anymore so I can do whatever I want.” I kissed the crown of his head. “Hey get this,” he looked up at me, “Tomorrow at the lodge they’re having fantasy movie night and can you guess what they’re showing?”

“Star Wars?” I nodded. “Can we go see it? Can we, please? Please? Please? Please? Please?”

“Now how can I say no to this adorable face.” I said as I cupped his cheek. We got back on our clothes before cuddling into our sleeping bags and snuggled them close together. “G’night Jack.”

“Goodnight (Y/n). I—I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” I let out a deep sigh before succumbing to sleep.

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

Text

Porcelain Steve - Part 3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie hasn't moved from his spot on the Harrington's living room floor since El placed Steve back in his hands two hours ago except to switch his weight from side to side, depending on which buttcheek is currently numb. The mass exodus from the Byers-Hopper house to the Harringtons had taken less than 15 minutes and there has not been peace since, hence the remaining-on-the-floorness of it all for Eddie.

People stop by his stop in the living room to talk to Steve, looming over Eddie in their uncertainty. He stopped offering for people to take Steve after the third rejection because Eddie gets it; he's still the most chill about this (except Argyle, but Argyle is currently high, and Eddie is exceptionally sober and perhaps resenting that fact a bit) but he gets it. The situation is fucking freaky and maybe the thought of holding their transformed babysitter slash older brother figure slash hero might be a bit harrowing.

Of course, there's always an exception, so when Max lowers herself to the living room floor next to him, cane set down between them, and says, "Give him here." Eddie obeys, instructing her to hold her hands out so he can place Steve in them upright and facing her. Max's bones had healed alright, but she'd never get her vision back.

"Am I looking at his face?" She asks, gripping him around the waist with two hands like he's a messy hamburger.

Eddie can't actually tell from this angle if she's looking at his face but it's got to be close enough, so he says, "Yeah."

"Hey Steve," Max starts. "Everyone else is too much of a wuss to hold you but don't worry. They'll get over it. Not going to lie to you, though, this is pretty weird, but, like, mostly because I expected your body to be squishy, like a stuffed toy or those babydolls Holly drags around and forces us to take care of when we all hang out at the Wheeler's house. You know, the ones that are like soft with the plastic head, hands, and feet? That's what I expected." She runs one thumb up and down on his torso before tacking on, "ugh, this feels like a polo. Eddie, is he wearing a polo?"

"Yeah. I think he's in the outfit he was wearing when whatever happened happened. The polo was tucked into his jeans but Robin untucked it to check if there were scars on his lil' porcelain tummy."

"Are there?"

"Yeah. Painted on, Robin says. It's pretty accurate."

"Like, chest hair and all?"

"I... don't know? You'll have to ask Robin. She was the one holding him like two inches from her face."

Max's attention goes back to Steve. "I bet your tiny polo looks cute, simply because it's tiny. Only way a polo could be cute, Steve. I still can't believe you dress this way because you like it. And worse, I can't believe you actually pull off the look."

Eddie looks on, amused, as Max rambles from there. Which is an experience. Max isn't quiet by any means, but she's not a talk to fill the silence type, which is what this seems like. The topics are mundane, like how summer school is going, and about her plans to try and teach El how to skateboard using only verbal directions, and debating the pros and cons of trying to convince her mom to let her get a seeing-eye dog. Then, they make a turn Eddie didn't expect.

"I think I'm going to be mostly on babysitting duty instead of active research and rescue. You know, on account of the blindness and all. So, like, I hope you're going be okay just hanging out with me and listening to Kate Bush for hours."

He should not be feeling a twist in his gut of jealousy at the fact Max wants to take Porcelain Steve from him, and yet. "You gonna look after him, Max?"

She shrugs, turns her face towards Eddie, "I figured we'd all take turns babysitting. Might get boring for him otherwise. He'd drop everything to watch us, if this had happened to us. He has done that. We have to do the same for him. Plus, Steve likes to check in on us, don't you Steve? What better way than to give you, like, a day with everyone in rotation."

"Always the savior, never the saved, huh?" Eddie is trying to joke but Max's face twists into a frown and her arms lower for the first time, lower so Steve's little porcelain face stares up at the ceiling.

"No. Not always."

"Oh?"

"I saved him, once. From Billy. It was my fault he was even in danger," Max says, voice sad.

"I doubt it was your fault-"

"It was my brother trying to beat him to death," Max snaps and it shuts Eddie up quick. "And the only reason he was in the house, beating Steve to death, was because I couldn't follow the simple instruction of 'stay away from the window'. Steve could probably have gotten Billy to leave if I had. But I didn't listen, and Billy got in, and then he was threatening Lucas. He'd said 'you're dead, Sinclair' and then Steve had to be super lame but super cool at the same time by saying 'no, you are' and decking Billy in the face with, like, the full force of his body."

"That is a very lame thing to say."

"Right? Anyway, he was winning that fight until Billy cracked him over the head with a plate. Then it just went downhill so fast for Steve, and I was so sure I was about to watch my stepbrother murder someone. I-I don't even know what came over me, really. I'd never stood up to Billy before. I just knew I had to do something. There were these syringes filled with something that put you to sleep and I grabbed it and then I stabbed Billy with one and then threatening him with Steve's nailbat to never touch any of my friends again."

"Holy shit, Red. Metal as hell!"

She gives a small smile at that. "Well, the boys were basically useless so." She gives a shrug that suggests that sentence should have ended with what can you do?

"True. I've seen you girls in action. Scary and deadly."

Max looks down, then, back to Steve. "Alright, Steve. This is enough floor time for me. I'll yack your ears off later."

She holds Steve back out to Eddie, and he returns Steve to the place in his lap. She gathers her cane and pulls herself from the floor, calling out to see where El is, then presumably going off to find her.

"You really do have a tit-for-tat thing going on with these kids, don't ya?" Eddie chuckles, falling back into the quiet.

His mind does go back to Max and her story. Saving Steve from Billy. He's heard that story but never that part. Steve had given him a watered-down version that left out the fact Billy had threatened Lucas, and that Max had come to his rescue. He wonders if Steve even knows that part.

Had they told him? In Steve's version he's getting his ass beat, and then he's coming to in the back of Billy's car with Max at the wheel. It seems out of character for Steve to not take the time to brag about the kids.

Given the events of spring break of last year, and Max's complicated feelings towards Billy, maybe Steve does know the full story and it was left out intentionally. A thing left up to Max to tell or not, to have to relive. She's been better, doesn't bottle up the hard things anymore, even though it's not Eddie she talks to.

It's Steve.

Eddie feels a bit worse about his jealousy earlier. Of course, Max wants to spend time with Steve even if he can't talk back. He's been the stable male figure in her life for years, just like he's been for Dustin.

He looks up, really taking in the people around him. All the people that have gathered because they care about Steve. All the kids, their peers, Joyce, and Hopper, and some guy Eddie's never even heard of before named Murray.

Does Steve even know how much he means to everyone here?

He's going to ask Steve just that but Robin shouts from the dining area at the same time he opens his mouth, so he snaps his jaw shut and focuses in on that.

"Absolutely not! Those assholes dealt with StarCourt by burning it to the ground and that's it! What do you think they'll try and do to Steve!?" Robin's back is to Eddie, so he can't see her face, but he can see Nancy's, who she seems to be yelling at. Nancy looks determined.

"I'm not saying we go asking the shady government for help immediately! I just brought it up as an option for if we hit a dead end, or can't figure this out, or-" Nancy argues back, and Robin cuts her off.

"Shut up! We'll figure it out! We have before."

Nancy's face softens, looks sadder. "I know, Robin. I do. But how long do we try ourselves? How many days, weeks, months, do we just keep trying ourselves while Steve is stuck? We don't even have a starting point for fixing this, the least we can do is plan a time to ask for help."

"Nancy's right," Hopper says, even if he sounds upsetting about admitting it out loud. "We can trust Owens at least. He helped us."

"No, I'm with Freckles there. You cannot trust anyone in the government, Jim. How many times do you need to learn that lesson?" Murray says in a condescending tone (though Eddie hasn't heard any other tone from him, so maybe that's just his voice?).

Eddie finally stands from the floor. This feels like an argument he should join.

#steddie #my fic #steve & his found family #porcelain steve #leaving it here because the point of the story is not about how they go about solving this #the point is steve and his feelings and everyones feelings about him #platonic soulmates

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daddy-issues-galore · 16 days ago

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Let me fly you to the moon...

Warnings: mention of reader's dead dad, 18+ readers only! SMUT - oral (m-receiving), humping, making out, swearing

Chapter 1 (I had an idea for a one-shot but it got away from me and now it's full story)

Being born in the middle of the 80’s with a dad who was a proud Mancunian and a massive fan of ‘Oasis’ and everything alike meant you’d basically grown up listening to everything from the ‘Madchester’ period. Your dad just loved music. He loved all the greats and had taught you well. The pair of you were devastated when ‘Oasis’ broke up, but you weren’t surprised when it was announced. Any real fan could see things just weren’t what they used to be anymore. ‘Beady Eye’ was formed from the remnants of ‘Oasis’, and you tried to follow them like ‘Oasis’ but it wasn’t the same without Noel. Then Noel formed his new band, and you were thrilled to be once again hearing his amazing music. And when you heard the first album, you fell in love instantly.

So here you were with a ticket to see ‘Noel Gallagher’s High-Flying Birds’ in Manchester, your hometown and you were buzzin’, even if you were all on your own. You never usually attended gigs on your own, for some reason you just never had the confidence to do so, but you couldn’t miss this. You’d been a nervous wreck all day.

You had a few hours to kill before you needed to start making your way to the gig, so you decided to go to Sifters record shop for a look round and to calm your nerves. It was something you did often; another thing your dad had gotten you into. There was nothing better than listening to a vinyl on a record player, well, one or two things maybe but still.

You pushed open the door to the record shop and gave a polite nod to the young guy (whose name you had forgotten) behind the counter, “Alright,” you said spotting the back of one other guy in the shop as you did.

You walked over to the record stack you usually liked to look through first and started flicking through. After a few minutes you came across ‘The Cure – The Top’ record and pulled it out with a grin. You’d been wanting to find this for ages to replace the one of your dad’s you’d accidently ruined a few years back.

“No way.” You whispered to yourself.

“Good choice.”

You looked up a little surprised by the sudden voice beside you but became even more shocked by whom the voice belonged to. Fuck off. You nodded slowly unable to form a sentence. You had to be seeing things, surely. Now way was Noel Gallagher really stood beside you looking through records.

“Yer a proper fan of The Cure, are ya?”

“Aye?” Your brow furrowed in confusion.

He nodded towards you, “Yer not just one of these wannabes that wear the tee n’ not listen to them.”

You looked down and realised you were in fact wearing one of ‘The Cure’ band t-shirts (used to belong to your dad) and said, “Ohh,” You smiled to yourself. “Yeah. I love The Cure…” You looked up to smile at Noel.

He nodded, “What’s yer favourite song of theirs?” He asked not looking up from the record he was looking at.

You groaned looking back to the stack of records in front of you, “I hate bein’ asked that… There’s too fuckin’ many…” You chewed the inside of your cheek, your words making Noel chuckle. “But… I do love ‘Pictures Of You’.”

Noel nodded, “Fuckin’ good tune.”

You smiled. “… I know.” You finished flicking through the stack and moved onto another one. Oh my god. Oh my god. Keep calm. You’re just talking to Noel Gallagher. No biggy.

“Oh, uh, Y/n, there’s a load of new seven-inch singles just come in.” The guy behind the counter said with a nod. “Saw some Kate Bush and Talkin’ Heads… thought of you.” He gave you a weird smile.

You inwardly cringed. “Uh, yeah, cheers… mate.” You thanked whoever was listening that he just nodded and walked into the back.

“He fancies you.” Noel chuckled as he walked up to the stack of records opposite you.

You grimaced, “I come in ‘ere every week, still can’t remember his fuckin’ name.”

“You’d think he’d take the hint.” Noel smirked at you. “So, what other music you into?”

“… The Smiths… Bowie… Queen… The Rolling Stones, Stone Roses… Kate Bush, Talking Heads… pretty much all the good fuckin’ stuff… if you can sing to it and dance to it, then I’m down… none of this top forty shite though…” You looked up and began blushing when you noticed Noel was smirking at you. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Noel shook his head with a genuine smile. “Don’t ever apologise for lovin’ music… although, you didn’t mention one of the most important bands of all times in your little list.” He frowned.

“There’s a few I didn’t mention ‘cause I’d be ‘ere all day if I did.” You smiled.

“Yeah… but the fuckin’ Beatles, man. They should be at the top.”

You nodded, “Oh… I thought you meant, Blur.” You said trying to keep a straight face.

Noel’s mouth fell open almost comically as he stared at you. “You fuckin’ better be jokin’.”

Your head fell back as you cackled with laughter making Noel sigh with relief. “Knew that would wind you up.” You smirked to yourself.

Noel bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Y’know who I am then.”

You nodded. “I should do since I’m seein’ ya’ tonight.”

Noel smiled even more. “Yous defiantly know good music…” He nodded, “Good girl.” He muttered making your blush.

No he fucking didn’t. Okay. Stop. Breath. “That’s all down to my dad.” You said, “He was educating me even before I was born apparently.” You chuckled.

Noel nodded, “Sounds like he’s a good lad.”

You nodded in silence as you started flicking through the seven-inch singles again.

“So, you dragging yer ol’ man along tonight? Or is it yer poor fella?” Noel asked.

You didn’t answer straight away, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. You shook your head. “If, my dad was still ‘ere it would be him draggin’ me there.” You smiled softly to yourself. “He was a massive Oasis fan. Got us tickets for my eighteenth. Mental.” You shook your head with a grin as you thought back to all those years ago.

Noel studied you for a second before he shook his head and looked back down to the records in his hands. “What year was that?”

You looked up at him with a chuckle, “I’m twenty-seven, if that’s what your askin’.” You smirked at him.

Noel shook his head with a chuckle, “No, genuinely, I was tryin’ to figure out if you’d have seen us at our best.” He began grinning.

Silence resumed between you as you both continued to look through the stacks of records. Occasionally one of you would make an approving sound at something the other had found or Noel would ask you a question related to music. He’d nod his approval and give you a crooked smile.

“So how come your hiding out in ‘ere?” You asked looking up from the record in your hands.

“I ain’t hidin’, love.” Noel scoffed.

“Really? Because I would have thought with less than three hours until the gig, you should be doin’ sound checks right now.” You said with a playful smirk.

Noel shook his head with a small chuckle. “… If I’m being honest, I’m a bit nervous for tonight.” Noel frowned.

“How are you nervous? You’ve done it loads." You asked with a furrowed brow.

Noel shook his head and gave his shoulders a shrug, “But as Oasis. This is different…”

“Not that much though.”

“They’re gonna be expectin’ Oasis, aren’t they. I can’t give ‘em that.” Noel frowned at you.

You scoffed, “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

Noel laughed at you. “Oh, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled, “Shut up. What I’m tryin’ to say is those people that are gonna be at your show tonight, tomorrow or the end of your tour, aren’t expecting Oasis… They want you. They want Noel Gallagher and his high-flying birds!” You smiled. “You’re still writing songs and playing the guitar… there’s just no gobby little brother in the band this time.” You joked making Noel shake his head with a chuckle.

“Thank fuck.” He muttered making you snigger. He gave you a crooked smile and winked. “You’ve got yer head screwed on proper for a young’un, ya’know.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and looked away from his gaze, feeling yourself blush. “I’m almost twenty-eight… not that young.”

Noel chuckled again at you. “Still fuckin’ younger than me.”

The sound of the door opening drew your attention away from Noel. An older, greying man dressed in a black suit stood by the door looking over at the pair of you.

“Mr Gallagher, you need to be heading back.” The man said to Noel.

Noel drew in a deep breath and nodded, “Thanks, Alan. I’ll be out in a bit.” Noel waved him off before grabbing his pile of records and walking over to the cash register.

You went back to looking through the stack of records in front of you in silence expecting that to be the end of your interaction with Noel, but it wasn’t.

“What are yer plans before the gig?” Noel asked looking back at you.

You shrugged, “Stay ‘ere, maybe nip back home for a snack.”

Noel chuckled, “In that case, why don’t ya’ come with me… I’ll get you backstage. Hang out.” He smiled. “Or would you rather hide away ‘ere?” He raised his eyebrow at you with a knowing smirk.

You began blushing and looked back towards the records. “Uhm… will it be, okay? I mean, am I allowed?”

Noel scoffed, “I’m Noel fucking Gallagher, love. What I say, fucking goes. And I say, yer backstage.” He winked at you making you blush even more.

“But you don't even know me. I could be some mental, psycho fan that smells hair.” You pulled a face at him.

Noel began laughing at you, “Fuck me...” He shook his head as he walked towards you and he held his hand out in front of you. “Alright, I’m Noel Gallagher.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “Y/n Y/l/n.” You slip your hand into his.

Noel shook your hand, “Pleasure to meet you, love... wanna hangout backstage then?”

You nodded, your smile stretching into a grin. “Alright then. Yeah. Nice ‘ne.” You grabbed your records and joined Noel at the cash register. “Hey.” You cried out as Noel snatched them from you and handed the to the bloke behind the counter.

“These too, mate.”

“Wha’ya doin’?” You frowned at him.

“Buying ‘em for ya’. Wha’ya think I’m doin’?” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Why? I can buy them myself.”

“Just, shut up.” Noel grinned as he nudged you, making you laugh. Noel paid for everything then lead you outside where a black Mercedes Benz was waiting with the Alan guy stood waiting beside it. “Alan, meet, Y/n... my friend. She’s coming with me.”

Alan looked you up and down before nodding and opening the back door.

Noel nodded for you to get in first. He watched as you did, his eyes lingering momentarily on your plump backside that your jeans hugged perfectly. He quickly averted his gaze and spotted some paparazzi across the road. “Bastards.” Noel muttered to himself and got in beside you. He wondered briefly if he should say something but as he saw the excited look in your eyes, he decided not to. It could wait.

#noel gallagher #oasis noel gallagher #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher x reader #Noel Gallagher #noel gallagher's high flying birds #noel gallagher x f-reciever

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sellasstories · 2 years ago

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MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN

word count: 2.0k

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

⚠️warnings⚠️

swearing, angst (somehow)

prompts:

the fame and pressure hitting caitlin a bit differently one day that she leaves practice early which she never does. her worried teammates all text you about it when you’re in the library and you quickly leave and you eventually find her shooting shots alone in an outside court off campus

best friends to lovers (i had to)

you and caitlin’s first kiss being outside in the rain

You woke up to your phone ringing, realizing with a start that you’d fallen asleep studying in the library. Seeing who it was, you immediately answered. “Hey Mon, what’s up?” you asked groggily.

“Did you not get any of my texts?” Monika practically screamed into the phone. “We’re really worried about Caitlin! Do you know where she is?”

“What happened?” you asked worriedly. Frantically, you opened your messages to see 16 different texts from Monika, Kate, and some more of Caitlin’s teammates that you barely knew.

Monika sighed. “I don’t know. She seemed fine most of practice, but near the end she missed a 3 and just ran out. That’s never happened before, and it was a really tough shot anyway. Please tell me you found her!” Monika’s voice broke and a pit settled in your stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Mon, I was studying and fell asleep. I’m just seeing all this now, but I promise I’ll go find her,” you attempted to reassure her.

“Thank you so much! I’ll let you know if she comes back, but I have to get back to practice,” Monika said regretfully.

“It’s alright, you’ve done what you can. I’m sure she’s fine,” you said brightly, hoping Monika couldn’t see through the fake positivity.

You packed up your books in record time and sprinted to the dorm you shared with Caitlin. You knocked before entering in case she needed privacy, but you knew that it didn’t matter the second you stepped inside. Everything was exactly how you’d left it. She hadn’t even come here and definitely wasn’t here now.

Dumping your books on the table, you tried to call Caitlin again and again, but everything went to voicemail. You started to panic. This wasn’t like her at all.

You rushed around campus looking everywhere that you’d ever gone with Caitlin, but had no luck. It was getting dark and the tears that you’d been fighting back were starting to spill down your cheeks. You realized that it had started raining at some point, but you were so focused on finding Caitlin that you hadn’t noticed.

Resolving to call the police if she wasn’t in your dorm when you got back, you turned to go home, crying openly now. Suddenly, you remembered the hidden basketball court in a park 5 minutes away from campus.

It didn’t make a lot of sense, but you decided that it was worth a shot. When you and Caitlin had passed it months ago, it hadn’t seemed like anything special to you, but Caitlin had been ecstatic. “It’s purple! Have you ever seen a purple basketball court? And the bushes on all the sides? It’s so awesome!” she’d gushed as you’d rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, you’d stayed with her for another half hour as she ran around and shot imaginary baskets before you’d both collapsed onto the ground and laughed hysterically.

You were so lost in the memory that you were surprised to already see the four tall hedges that surrounded the court looming in front of you. You took a deep breath and brushed the wet hair out of your face. You knew you needed to go in, but you hesitated at the gate. If she wasn’t there, what would you do with yourself?

Concern for Caitlin outweighed your worst-case scenario thoughts, and you opened the gate and stepped onto familiar purple court. The gate was close to the bleachers, so you couldn’t see if anyone was there in the fading light. You took a few tentative steps forward before hearing the clang of a ball bouncing off the rim followed by cursing in a voice that you immediately recognized as Caitlin’s.

You wanted to run over to her, but realized that she maybe still needed some space if she had gone to all this trouble not to let anyone know where she was. You were already drenched, so you sat down on the bleachers with a sigh. You watched Caitlin shoot over and over and over again, making perfect shot after perfect shot. She shot from everywhere, and when you thought to start counting, she made 37 shots in a row. Finally, the ball rolled around the rim and out, and Caitlin sank to the ground with her head in her hands.

You cautiously walked over to her. “Linnie, it’s me. Everyone is so worried about you. Mon, Kate, your whole team. What’s wrong?” you asked, keeping your voice calm. You hoped that using your childhood nickname for her would be comforting somehow.

Caitlin looked up at you in confusion and you could see the tear tracks on her face even in the rain. “How did you find me? And Linnie? Really? It’s been years. Please just leave me alone… I have to fix my shot and I can’t deal with other people watching. I’m fine.” Her words were firm but her voice caught on the last declaration.

You didn’t know exactly why, but you were suddenly angry. “No, you’re clearly not fine! And don’t lie to me, I don’t deserve that! We all called and texted, you should’ve answered someone. Do you know how scary that was for all of us? For me? You’re the most important person in my life and I couldn’t get to you! Caitlin, I was just about to call the police for fuck’s sake!”

Caitlin took a shaky breath before blurting out an explanation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would mind. I just needed to get away and I couldn’t bring myself to go back. You’re making this so much harder, please just go,” she whispered, looking up at you with glistening eyes. “I’ll come back tonight, I promise.”

“Caitlin Elizabeth Clark, I’ve never left you before and I’m not leaving you now,” you declared. “If you want to stay here and shoot for some reason, I’ll stay with you. But I don’t think that’s going to fix whatever is up with you. You and I both know that your shot is perfect, so it has to be something else. Please, just talk to me.” Caitlin opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but closed it again. Shrinking under your determined gaze, she sat down and stared at the ground.

“No matter what I do, I know that it’s never going to be good enough. I’m never going to be good enough! How can I be what they say I should be if I can’t even hit 50 shots in a row? All those times my dad yelled at me to try harder, and it didn’t even matter!” Caitlin shook as sobs wracked her body and you swore that you felt your heart shatter. “I just- I just don’t want to let anyone down! There’s so many peoples’ hopes riding on me and I don’t want to disappoint them,” she sniffled, still refusing to look at you. You sat down beside her and tentatively placed your hand on her back.

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault if people care that much about what you do, and you’re amazing already. This is proof that you care so much, which will make you fantastic,” you praised her. “You’ve won so many awards already, and through it all you’re the same wonderful person that you’ve been since I met you.” You realized you were crying now, too. Caitlin buried her head in your shoulder, clearly crying again. You gently tilted her chin up so you could look at her.

“Listen to me, okay Linnie? If it’s too much, you can always stop or take a break and no one will fault you for it or if they do I’ll punch them. No one wants to see you work so hard that you stop having fun! 50 shots in a row is insane, and somehow you still almost made it on a non-regulation outdoor court that you’ve never played on, in the pouring rain, in a terrible mental state, while crying your eyes out! Do you understand how actually crazy that is?” You couldn’t help but be a bit in awe of her, even given the circumstances.

“I only made 44 in a row, that’s not even that close,” Caitlin pouted. “And I don’t want to take a break, I think today was just weird or something because I promise I’m not usually like this,” she rambled as you moved her hair away from her face. “And how is this crazy? I know it’s not the easiest solution, but it’s not my fault that it started raining, and-” You cut her off with a kiss, not knowing how else to express all of your emotions that had just surfaced.

“Shit Caitlin, I’m sorry! That was so wrong, I should’ve asked first, or just not done it… I’m so sorry please forget about that,” you apologized instantly. To your surprise, Caitlin was smiling for the first time since you’d found her.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” she said quietly, looking into your eyes. You watched her gaze shift briefly to your lips and were sure that you had to be imagining it. There was no way that your best friend could possibly feel the same way, was there?

Still smiling, Caitlin laid down on her back and pulled you on top of her. You barely had time to notice how beautiful she looked with her wet hair fanned out around her head before she was grabbing your face and pressing your lips together.

Caitlin pulled away just enough to speak, keeping your foreheads pressed together. “Do you know how many years I’ve been waiting for you to do that?” she said almost reverently.

“Years?” you exclaimed in shock. “I literally realized I was in love with you like a minute ago!”

“You’re in love with me?” Caitlin asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

You thought back to all your years of friendship. You’d done everything for her. You weren’t sure if best friends followed each other to university, but you were sure that they didn’t look at each other the way you’d been looking at Caitlin since you were 15.

“I think I always have been,” you smiled. “I think there’s just always been so much going on that I didn’t notice until now somehow.”

“Oh. my. god. You love me!” Caitlin was grinning like a maniac. “I love you too, by the way,” she smirked, kissing your forehead. Her joy was contagious. Soon, you couldn’t stop smiling either.

“I don’t really want to ask you this while I’m sitting on top of you, but would you, Caitlin Clark, the greatest basketball player ever, who is allowed to take breaks, like to be my girlfriend?” you asked, throwing a pointed look in her direction when you mentioned taking breaks.

“I would love to… as long as the breaks are time to hang out with you,” Caitlin agreed enthusiastically. You smiled down at her. Tangling your hands in her hair, you leaned in for a passionate kiss. You made out on the court until the crack of lightning made you both jump away from each other.

“I think we should get home,” you said, offering Caitlin your hand. She accepted it, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug once she was on her feet.

“Thank you for finding me,” she mumbled into your neck. You felt her say something else as she pulled away, but didn’t know what it was.

“You’re welcome, I’d do it every time,” you replied. “What did you say after that, though?”

Caitlin smiled evilly. “I suggested that we have a hot shower together when we get home,” she said casually as she went to pick up her basketball.

“What the fuck, Caitlin? We haven’t even been dating for an hour!” you yelled after her, trying to keep the smile out of your voice.

“I guess that’s something I have to look forward to, then,” she tossed over her shoulder. You ran to catch up with her, rolling your eyes.

You left the park hand in hand, warmed by the sun that had miraculously broken through the storm clouds.

#cait my love #meet me in the pouring rain #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader

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archiveikemen · 9 months ago

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Ellis Twilight Main Story: Preview

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Did this in a rush, not proofread. Does Harrison want to proofread for me...?

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

My evil is — the desire to twist around you, like the vines of a thorny bush.

…

Ellis: … You’re a very lovely person.

Ellis: I was wondering if I could help you with your first assignment in the “new department”... may I?

Ellis Twilight — a young man with eyes the colour of twilight.

To the point where I forgot the uneasy feeling I got when I first met him, he devoted himself fully to bringing happiness to anyone, anywhere, at any time.

…

Victor: Miss Kate’s life will be at risk before her contract ends—

Victor: — That means the confidentiality of Crown’s information will also be compromised! Right?

Ellis: Yeah.

Jude: … I have a bad feeling about this.

Victor: Therefore, Jude and Ellis…

Victor: I’d like the two of you to take on the responsibility of ensuring Kate’s safety as her bodyguards!

Life with Crown, a group of people who were involved in assassinations, was filled with ups and downs.

…

Ellis: … You’re hardworking.

Kate: Huh? I don't think so.

Ellis: … Nope, you are.

Ellis: You’re a wonderful person, Kate.

…

Ellis: Let me know if you don't like it. … Otherwise, I’d want to remain like this.

Kate: … Why?

Ellis: So that you won't feel nervous.

Ellis: … Is that not okay?

Ellis’ kindness always enveloped my heart like thick and sweet jam.

I drowned in that happiness — until I couldn't escape from it.

…

Kate: It’s more than just making the other person happy.

Kate: I feel that it’s better if you become lovers with someone who you truly want to always have by your side.

Ellis: Someone I… always want to have by my side?

…

Ellis: … I’m sorry. That must've scared you.

Ellis: I should've told you to close your eyes, so that you wouldn't have to witness that.

(Are you alright?)

He locked away his emotions and desires in a tightly sealed box hidden deep inside his heart.

With the same hands that spread joy everywhere he went, with the same facial expression, he casually took the lives of others with ease.

I wanted to know what was inside that tightly sealed box hidden in Ellis’ twisted heart.

…

Ellis: … Okay. Shall we be lovers?

Ellis: I’ll do… everything to make you happy.

Ellis: I can kiss you, or do more than that— anything at all.

Kate: Can I assume that, right now…

Kate: You want to kiss me because you want it too?

— Before I knew it, I had fallen so deeply in love that I longed for him.

The origin of the occasional uneasy feeling I got around him, and the depth of the darkness of the things hidden inside that box — remained unbeknownst to me.

…

Ellis: Before I become any more selfish — I have to put a lid on this.

Ellis: I’d like for you to be happy.

Kate: Ellis—

Ellis: Say, Kate.

Ellis: How happy are you…?

…

I was engulfed by the darkness, unable to see a thing—

There, I discovered Ellis’s true feelings that were like twilight in the middle of the darkness.

Ellis: Let’s stop time at the peak of our happiness.

Ellis: Therefore… be mine forever.

Meeting you taught me what happiness was.

And this love… killed me.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #ellis main story

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huramuna · 1 year ago

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the calico bastard - chapter 3.

aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

art by me of alysanne • an edit by me of alysanne as a child • aesthetic board

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Alysanne didn’t get much sleep that night, not after what she’d seen— the future and the present.

She paced around her small room until the light trickled from the horizon. Aemond’s harrowing screams echoed in her ears, her chest heaving and falling.

There had only been one time before she had such a violent vision.

It was eight years before— Alysanne was only ten years of age, just an unloved bastard girl of Harrenhal.

Except, she had one who loved her. The only one.

“Pick me up, pick me up!” Alysanne cried gleefully, “Breakthbonthes, pick me up!” she held her arms up, her words whistling through the gap in her baby teeth— she’d yet to lose those last few teeth right at the front, causing an admittedly quite silly lisp.

Ser Harwin Strong— her brother, or half-brother as it may be, had returned to Harrenhal after a long time away.

Her father, too, had returned— but Alysanne could care less, they were indifferent to one another.

But Harwin— Harwin was hers, her brother, the only person to ever treat her like a person, like she wasn’t lesser.

She ran on bare feet out to the gates, jumping and waving her arms as she saw the procession arrive. The little girl would recognize the curly mop and mountainous build of her brother anywhere.

“Ah, my little lilac!” Harwin boomed from atop his horse, spurring the stallion into the gates, “By the Seven, Alysanne, you’ve grown.”

“The maesther says I’m too schmall for my age,” she grumbled, kicking up dirt.

“Ahh, and what does he know, anyhow?” Harwin grinned, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins to the stablehand. “The poor sod can hardly see past those caterpillars of eyebrows atop his head, eh?”

Alysanne giggled, putting her arms up once more, “Please pick me up— wanna be thall… t-tall,” she tried to correct, spitting a bit through her gapped teeth.

Harwin chuckled— it was a rich, soothing sound. His whole body seemed to erupt with the joy he brought as he laughed, like a deep and generous clap of thunder before the skies opened up.

Alysanne felt her heart rattle around in her chest at the noise.

“Let me get this heavy armor off, lilac,” he hummed, “C’mon, tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

Alysanne skipped and hopped alongside Harwin as they walked through the courtyard, where he left his armor at the smith to be polished. She babbled on about the books she read, the birds she saw, and any innocuous thing she could conjure up.

Each thing, no matter how small, boring, or insignificant it may be, Harwin would respond, whether in agreement, asking a question, anything at all— anything to make Alysanne feel special.

“Alright— c’mere, little lilac,” Harwin finally acquiesced, kneeling down slightly.

Alysanne squealed in delight as he ran into his arms— only to be met with darkness.

A cold, withering darkness. Usually, being encapsulated by Harwin was warm— warm and bright, like the sunniest summer day.

But she felt cold— cold like the North was, colder than anything she felt before, like after a flame had been extinguished.

Then, her vision went red— red, orange, yellow, crackling fire— warm, warm, too warm. Hot, hot— it was smoldering, she was screaming, feeling the skin melt from her bones and char into ash— and she wasn’t the only one screaming.

She heard the cries of men— two very familiar to her—

Harwin, Harwin— open the door, open the door, brother, please! She screamed and clawed at the door until it melted before her into glowing lava, sizzling at her feet— and behind it, Harwin— his hand on the knob, no, fused to the knob.

His hand wasn’t attached, snapped off like a charred piece of firewood, his body strewn across the floor. His face peeled from the muscle and sinew, popping and blistering against the heat. His mouth, now just a hole, was twisted into an everlasting scream—

And then she was back. Back to the warmth and brightness of Harwin’s arms. He was shaking her softly, jostling her shoulder as a small crowd was gathered.

“Alysanne,” he murmured frantically, “Alysanne, wake up, my girl.”

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears— they rolled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob came out.

“Shh, don’t speak, it's okay,” he cooed, turning her away from the prying eyes of the crowd, “I’ve got you.”

Ser Harwin Strong and his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, perished that same night in a fire— a supposed accident.

But Alysanne— she had known. She saw it, and had said nothing. She hears Harwin’s ghost muttering to her at times, his warm and gentle voice now saddened by ash and smoke.

She contemplated her life for days, months and years after— she had lost the only family she had— and she could’ve stopped it.

Since then, she relented from touching people or being touched. She never wanted to have that power— she didn’t want to see their deaths, hear their screams and have their ghosts linger in her head for the rest of her life.

Now, after seeing Aemond’s supposed death, she felt a responsibility to change it— not for herself, not for Aemond— but for Harwin. For what she could’ve done, should’ve done.

She wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she dressed for the day. She forwent the corset— damn the thing— and dressed in another kirtle, a paisley color.

Her hands moved deftly as she tied her curly hair up into two braids— nothing like Flora and Beth had done— but it did the job nonetheless.

The rest of the keep wasn’t awake yet— or so she had thought. She walked out in the courtyard barefoot, as usual, and found it odd as she heard another pair of feet crunching gravel near her.

Turning around, she came face to face with Aemond. He looked… exhausted.

His brow perked, “What are you doing up this early?” he asked as he kept walking, a nod of his head in indication that he wished for her to follow.

She let out a sniff, “I’m always awake,” she grumbled, “I need to tend to Banshee.” she trotted alongside Aemond, her short legs having to work double time to keep up with his long legged strides.

“‘Banshee’? I know that Harrenhal has its fair share of ghosts, but I haven’t heard the wail of a banshee yet— and even so, how does one tend to a Banshee?” he prodded, putting on a pair of leather gloves as they walked.

“… Banshee isn’t a ghost,” Alysanne said, a slight tinge of annoyance lacing her voice, “Banshee is my horse.”

They stopped at the stable, which now housed more horses than usual on account of the soldier’s occupation. Alysanne slunk to the last paddock, which was in truth, not in good shape. It had its fair share of bite marks and hoof prints.

Aemond watched as the strange little bastard lady stood on her tippy toes, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand over the top of the stall door.

A rumbling snort was heard before an absolutely monstrous horse head dipped over the door. It had a gray spotted snout and a neatly trimmed forelock and mane.

Alysanne hummed as she undid the lock and led out Banshee. He was a ginormous draught horse, built purely of muscle and power. He had a light gray coat with black dapples— as well as some long feathering near his hooves. He was easily taller than Aemond by a foot.

The gelding let out a snort as he looked at Aemond, then turned his focus back to Alysanne, nuzzling the top of her head, earning a small giggle from her.

Aemond Targaryen, rider of the largest dragon in the world, was slightly aghast at the size of this horse. He exhaled, “That has to be the biggest fucking horse I’ve ever seen,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between Alysanne and Banshee, “How do you even get on his back?”

Alysanne looked at Aemond, slightly bewildered, “You ride Vhagar— how do you get on her back?” she countered as she led Banshee out into the courtyard.

Aemond, fascinated by Alysanne and her monster horse, followed, “Well— a fair bit of climbing, and she has some rope rigging around her saddle.”

Alysanne pat Banshee on his neck— at least, as far as she could reach. “Well, think of Banshee as a small Vhagar,” she hummed, “It isn’t graceful, but a fair bit of climbing,” she mimicked his tone, “does the job.”

The prince was slightly amused by this. “Well then— go on,” he pressed, “Let’s see how the bastard fares getting atop her horse.”

Alysanne let out something of a growl or a grumble in annoyance, clicking her tongue after. Banshee lowered himself slightly, to a point where she could snag onto his mane and scramble up his neck, sliding down onto his back. It was hardly graceful, and was comparable to how a bat scrambles upon walls before taking flight.

“No saddle? Reins?” he questioned further.

Alysanne cocked her head, “No?” she snorted, as if it was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

The prince pinched his brow in what seemed to be frustration, “How silly of me— you don’t even wear shoes, of course you’d ride your beast without the proper tack.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything further. She murmured something to Banshee, who let out a whinny and began his walk— it was slow and bumpy, but Alysanne kept her composure.

“Be here when I return, girl,” Aemond said before they got out of earshot, “I’ll have need of you.”

Her brow furrowed. Need of her? For what? And where was he going?

Alysanne and Banshee’s leisurely walk turned into a relaxed trot as they exited the gates of Harrenhal. They were half a mile away from the ancient castle before a thunderous roar was heard, and the rising sun was eclipsed by the gargantuan green beast known as Vhagar.

Alysanne scratched Banshee as he got a bit fidgety as the dragon flew low in the sky, just above the treeline. “S’okay, my sweet boy,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck as far as she could reach, “You won’t die by a dragon— I’ve seen it.”

As Vhagar began to disappear from sight, something clicked in Alysanne’s head. The dragon was riding towards the God’s Eye— which meant Aemond was as well.

It… it felt like too soon— no, the battle couldn’t be today— but she had seen Harwin’s death just hours before it happened…

She spurred Banshee into a full on gallop, pressing low to his back to hold on, “Please, please,” she whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes.

As they approached the shore of the God’s Eye, she looked around, scanning the sky for any sign of the bloodwyrm— or even Vhagar.

She slid off of Banshee’s back, letting him graze as she walked the pebbled beach of the lake. She paced back and forth until it was high noon, the sun rising in the sky to its apex.

A few more hours passed until late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent back towards the earth. A temporary eclipse of Vhagar returning had Alysanne giving a small breath of relief— until the giant dragon turned, lowering down to find a spot to land.

Banshee strayed near the woodline, as far from the dragon as possible— Alysanne shared his unease, a deep pit settling in her gut.

She ground her teeth as she approached the landing dragon, the powerful flaps of her wings actually causing Alysanne to fall over— which apparently earned a laugh from Aemond— a laugh? When had she heard him actually laugh?

Watching as he gracefully slid from Vhagar’s saddle, not before unstrapping himself (earning Alysanne a breath), she got back to her feet, dusting off her dress.

“I thought I spotted that elephant horse of yours,” he called out, walking towards her.

She shrunk back, “What do you want?”

As he got closer, his expression became more visible. He seemed… lighter. More elated. His hair was swept back from the wind and his mouth was crinkled in a small grin— not that of a predator like usual, but like that of someone who was… joyous?

It was a difference of night and day— his pained anguish the night before, and his almost boyish demeanor now.

It confused Alysanne— she hadn’t accounted for this, such a strong change in emotion from him. It settled the pit in her stomach ever so slightly.

“What do I want?” he repeated with a questioning tone, “Nothing— I merely wished to see if your beast had bucked you off yet.” he stopped a few feet away from her, not getting too close. His arms were behind his back in their usual resting position. It seemed as if he was respecting her boundaries.

“Banshee wouldn’t— not to me, atleast,” she picked up a smooth stone from below her idly, rolling it around in her palm, “He’s a killer, you know.”

“A killer, hm?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “Stomped in a few men’s heads over the years— ones that tried to ride him, besides me.”

Aemond’s lip curled slightly, “Seems he’s bonded with you as his sole rider, then. Dragons are much the same. They get to choose who they bond with— test their mettle, and find them worthy.”

Alysanne looked towards him as they conversed— they began walking around the shore near each other and she hadn’t even noticed. He still kept his distance, to which she was grateful. “Vhagar finds you worthy,” she commented, “It must be an honor.”

Aemond picked up a rock as well, weighing it in his palm, “It is. It’s the highest honor of any Targaryen’s life— to be chosen by a dragon.”

She stopped at the lapping waves, dipping her feet in the water. With a swift movement of her hand, she sent the stone skidding across the surface. Once, twice, thrice.

A few moments later, Aemond did the same. Once, twice, thrice.

Alysanne gave a lopsided smile at that as she straightened back up. She felt at ease— like a leaf on a cooling breeze. Not only at ease, she felt brave.

Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the features of Aemond’s face before landing on his eye— which looked right back at her.

She felt a rattling in her chest— like a caged bird flapping and ricocheting against her bones. A strange heat came to her cheeks. “We make up one pair of violet eyes, you and I,” she murmured suddenly, “One lilac between each of us…” she stared at his remaining eye, to which he stared back at her one, paired with the rich, earthy brown of her other eye.

His brow furrowed momentarily, “An interesting observation,” he picked up another rock and skipped it across the waves, “You remind me of someone, you know. My sister— Helaena, her grace, the queen,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer note, “I feel like you two would have much to talk about.”

“I’ve heard she is fond of insects,” Alysanne answered, walking from the shore to the grass, where she began picking plants from the soil, seemingly with purpose, “I quite like a good moth myself. They liken themselves to have false eyes on their wings, so they do not have to stare down predators.”

Aemond didn’t comment— he just watched her pick plants.

“Herbs,” she said, as if feeling his questioning stare on her back, “For my medicines.”

“I didn’t know you were a maester as well as a bastard,” he said– more likely than not with a smug grin on his face.

“I may be odd in appearance, but you must be blind in both eyes if you think I resemble a smelly, mean old man.” she quipped back.

He didn’t say anything more, just setting his jaw in a hard line. This earned Alysanne a satisfied smile– the bird had silenced the dragon.

In her joyful reverie, she went to pick a bundle of chamomile– but her hand plunged into a bush of stinging nettle. She let out a yelp like an injured animal, pulling her hand back and looking over it.

Apparently, her yelp had caused some concern from Aemond, who rushed over– he broke the boundary they had set, and even more, he reached out to her hand. “Let me see,” he grumbled.

“No, no–,” her cry was cut off as they touched, and her vision went black once more.

It was storming. Thunder rumbled the ancient stronghold– but they were not in Harrenhal. She couldn’t quite fixate where they were, until she heard the tumultuous crashing of waves against chiseled stone. Storm’s End– the seat of power for House Baratheon.

Why was she here– why… Aemond was here as well. He was stanced as usual, his hands behind his back.

Another boy was there, as well– brown, shaggy hair and brown eyes. Harwin? He looked like Harwin– he was turning away from Aemond, walking out.

“Wait,” Aemond called out, “My lord Strong,”

Strong? There were no more Strong Lords– and not a young boy like this. Who… was he? When was this?

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne; at no cost?”

“I will not fight you– I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” the young boy spoke. Alysanne could see his body language– he was… afraid.

Aemond smirked, “A fight would be little challenge. No,” he said, putting his hand up to his eyepatch, taking off the leather and revealing his sapphire eye underneath, “I want you to put out your eye. It is payment for mine. One will serve,” the prince drew back his coat, throwing a dagger to the floor towards the boy, “I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

The boy shivered, falling into himself inwardly for just a moment– then he took a breath, puffing out his chest, “No.” he declared, staring Aemond down.

“So you are craven, as well as a traitor.” Aemond hummed for a moment, the sound of Lord Baratheon’s cries to stop drowned out from blood pumping in his ears– hers as well.

Alysanne felt his contempt, felt his rage– bubbling, boiling right under the surface, just like the Fourteen Flames of Valyria. The madness in him was palpable, threatening to break his bones and turn him into a beast hewn of scale and wrath and tear this ‘Lord Strong’ apart brick by brick.

She shivered; he truly was fire made flesh, an echo of a warrior long past– a god of War in his own right.

“Give me your eye! Or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond exploded, advancing on the little Lord Strong like a predator–

Then they were in the sky, Aemond chanting taunts atop Vhagar– words that Alysanne didn’t inherently understand, but she felt it– in her bones, rattling around her chest and stomach.

It was a chase– a game of cat and mouse– or dragon and dragon as it may be. But Alysanne knew it was nothing of fairness. What was fair in a dragon of War, named after the Goddess of War, chasing a hatchling just large enough to carry a young boy?

What was fair in that?

What was fair?

In her fairness, in her twisted justice– Vhagar’s massive jaws snapped the smaller dragon into pieces, along with Lord Strong, the remains of his existence scattered into the sea.

The rage of Aemond quelled– quelled into a dull ache. It was replaced by a new feeling, mayhaps one Aemond hadn’t felt before.

Guilt. Remorse.

Kinslayer. Accursed.

What had he done?

Her eyes opened– she wasn’t crying like usual, when she saw death. Usually it was impending death, something that perhaps she had a chance to change– but this… was the past, wasn’t it? Something she never could change, something that had already been lived and gone and was a done deal, sealed with the bow of death. She didn’t feel panicked, no– she felt hollow.

Aemond was holding her up again, cradling her like a delicate flower. He cleared his throat as he stared down at her. “What did you see?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

“Kinslayer.” she murmured in response, her voice broken.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the calico bastard

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superfallingstars · 1 year ago

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marauders era faceclaims/fancasts but it's all musicians from the 60s-80s because i am insane. let's go

first up is kate bush as lily! this felt so obvious. even though she's not a ginger and her eyes are hazel (i think?) instead of green, there's something so sweet and warm about her that makes her a perfect lily to me. and omg the pics of her as a child are sooo ridiculously cute.

next up is andy partridge (my beloved) as james. he is in fact blond but i think the glasses are a wonderful coincidence. and he has a great face for james, very british-looking. honorable mention to steve albini who was my original pick but wasn't quite right (not very british-looking, does have black hair tho) – just wanted to mention that because i really only wanted to include him in this post to piss him off

young chris cornell is literally scary accurate for sirius like his face might as well be directly lifted from my BRAIN. i was really hoping to find a 70s musician for him (these pics are from the late 80s) just for consistency among the marauders, but this was too good not to use

next is alex chilton as remus. the pic on the left was when he was literally 17, while the middle one (and presumably the right one?) are when he's older. i might just be picking him because he reminds me of andrew garfield, who i don't even like as a fancast for remus, but he's infiltrated my subconscious nonetheless. also look at his little peace signs, isn't he so cute and silly and quirky? ok moving on

i'll be honest i struggled with peter but i think i'm pretty happy with greg lake here. the hair is a little dated (these pics are probably from the late 60s?) but i like his big round face. and come on i needed SOMEONE from a prog rock band in this post. it just feels right for it to be peter

alright i really struggled with snape so i'm including a few options and i really want to hear which one people like the best. personally i think the best fit is unfortunately young marilyn manson (first two pics). i was originally going to go with todd rundgren (next two) because of the long face, long hair, bad teeth... why are you booing me i'm right. i like that todd is a 70s guy because it feels more consistent with the other characters, but marilyn's got the goth factor... overall i think they're both DECENT, but i'm not sure if either one has quite the right nose. what do you guys think?

also shoutout to my many rejected snape picks, including steve peregrin took from t rex (not bad but not amazing, i debated including pics but this post is already long enough), rozz williams (too cool-looking), roger waters (meh), and frank zappa (PERFECT nose, but no good pictures without the giant mustache and the rest of his face isn't very snapey to me).

wow ok i can't believe i did this. this is so incredibly stupid but it also took me weeks to do, so i would love to hear what people think of my picks. you're welcome or i'm sorry or whatever

#god the more context you have with these people the funnier it gets #PLEASE look up what todd rundgren was wearing in the 70s i beg you. and don't look up any of the bands steve albini was in #also if dumbledore was relevant here he would be robert wyatt. but he's not. ok i'm done #hp #my posts #fancasts #my faceclaims #<- not sure which word to use considering most of these people are either in their 70s or um. dead. and also not actors #anyway time to use a barrage of tags because i want feedback goddamnit!#marauders #marauders fancast #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp fancast #hp fandom #hp marauders #the marauders #james potter #james potter fancast #lily evans #lily potter #lily evans fancast #lily potter fancast #sirius black #sirius black fancast #remus lupin #remus lupin fancast #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew fancast #severus snape

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gunthermunch · 2 years ago

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[Transcript under the cut]

Ernest: i always feel like a complete professional in here Vlad: what is a writer without a typewriter Ernest: or hundreds of books. personally i own neither Ernest, on typewriter: h e l l o Vlad: your small device died on me. Ernest: ah! it's just the battery. just give it to me and I'll bring it back fully charged Vlad: i want to keep it Ernest: alright alright. so, which song did you like the best? Vlad: the song with rats on cages Ernest: bullet with butterfly wings? i kinda thought you'd be more of a bowie guy but at the same time im not surprised Vlad: what is a bowie? Ernest: you're hilarious. Ernest, on typewriter: M y n a m e i s E r n e s t M u n c h Ernest: maybe you'd like Kate Bush, my wife LOVES Kate Bush. Vlad: Isn't there any actual writing you should be doing? Ernest: eh… i don't think there's more for me to write about, honest. what else do you have to tell me? Vlad: you sound like the human that wrote the Encyclopedias. Ernest: well i know those from memory since i was a child, consumed those like holy grail. plasma fruit bad, blood good. yadda yadda Ernest: -wait. wrote? i thought you did it. i got all fanatic on you for nothing? Vlad: all i did was give answers to a curious human that thought i was wearing a disguise. if those books should awake hoards of blood hungry half done vampires born out of uncoordinated words, then so it be. Ernest: you're a little mischievous, huh? Vlad: I'm naturally great at misleading people. Ernest: oh, i know! after all these months, buddy, i still have no clue on who turned you. Vlad: why would i deceive your ears with such a thing? Ernest: because we. are. frriiiieeeenddss Vlad: what is happening to your words? Ernest: I'm just reminding you. come on! i wont even write it down, let's just have a chat. Vlad: fine. Vlad: --hundreds of years ago, a count and a peasant had an affair. Vlad: the moment the count's wife found out, she went to the village and found a witch. it casted a curse upon the peasant, who was pregnant. Vlad: she suffered a long, painful childbirth. what is worse, she lived through it. Vlad: and so her son was born, lacking a heartbeat, pale as a corpse, alive. Vlad: she was barely able to walk, talk, breath or blink after giving birth Vlad: she never recovered, and the count had turned his back on both of them. Vlad: i believe she wanted both of us dead. i did not feel her as my mother, as she probably never felt me as her son too. she was just food to me, as soon as i was able to walk. Vlad: i found The Hollow shortly after. Vlad: i was never weak, i never had to survive. Ernest: you were choiceless. Ernest: gulp a witch, huh? Vlad: one way or another, our sole creators. raining Ernest: man. how am i supposed to go home like this? Lilith: i could walk you home. Lilith: can i, Vlad?

#i cant believe i was able to fit all of vlad's origins into less than 30 posts pats my own shoulder #ts4 #munch #vladislaus straud #ernest munch #lilith vatore #prologue

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fantom-flower · 2 months ago

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fantom's album review #1

I decided I'd go through NPR's The 150 Greatest Albums Made By Women.

Doing all 150 seemed a little too daunting, so I'm just doing the top 50. I'm going in order from 50 to 1, listening to all the albums from start to finish, rating them and writing my opinion.

I'm just doing this for fun, to learn more about the history of popular music and also listen to genres that I'm less familiar with.

All my ratings are based on my own personal tastes, so the following list is HIGHLY subjective.

50. Hole - Live Through This (1994)

7/10 I’ve never been much for 90s grunge. I was a little too young for its heyday (I was <10 when this album came out, hardly the intended audience) and later when I got into 90s music, grunge never really appealed to me. Still, I enjoyed this album, and I think a few of the songs on it will make it into my regular rotation.

49. Ricki Lee Jones - Pirates (1981)

2/10 Wow. I fucking hated this album. Her voice is okay, sometimes annoyingly breathy, and not nearly interesting enough to carry the meandering talk-singing she engages in nearly every song. Best thing I can say about this album is that it ends.

48. Etta James - Rocks the House (1964)

7/10 I don’t like live albums. That being said, this one is actually pretty good. It has a fun energy, with some great call and response with the audience. NPR's review said she “howled her way through” her songs, and that is accurate. Not something I usually enjoy, but aside from the howling, she has a very powerful and lovely voice, and even the howling started to grow on me by the end of the album.

47. Celia Cruz - Son con Guaguanco (1966)

10/10 No notes. I fucking loved this album. Es La Humanidad is my favorite song off of it. Stunning voice, great instrumentals, so fun to listen to.

46. Emmylou Harris - Wrecking Ball (1995)

6/10 A lot of the songs were really hit or miss for me. Largely, I really preferred the accompaniment. Wrecking Ball in particular stood out with this great lonely, yearning sound. Deeper Well is the best song on the album, if the rest had been like that, could have been a 9/10 easily. Orphan Girl was awful.

45. Dusty Springfield - Dusty in Memphis (1969)

5/10 Boring. The Windmills of Your Mind was alright.

44. Heart - Dreamboat Annie (1976)

9/10 Glad to find that Magic Man and Crazy on You are representative of the album rather than exceptions from it. Soul of the Sea is probably my favorite track. Lots of fun to listen to.

43. M.I.A. - Kala (2007)

2/10 I think I like Paper Planes as much as the next guy, but not enough to listen to a whole album of it. Absolutely chock full of the most annoying sound effects known to man. This one took me a long time to get through. When it was time for me to listen to music I kept thinking, “I don't want to ruin the pleasant vibe I have going by making myself listen to this.”

42. Ella Fitzgerald - Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Johnny Mercer Song Book (1964)

9/10 Hard to go wrong with Ella Fitzgerald. Name a song of hers that’s not an instant classic. I was surprised to see that this album was from the 60s when I started listening to it. Not the decade I associate with big band. I deduct one point because for me, all slow, soulful, romantic big band songs all kind of sound the same. I like the sound, but I like having some variety.

41. Tracy Chapman - Tracy Chapman (1988)

10/10 Came into the album only having heard of Fast Car. It lives up to the hype, and the rest of the album does not disappoint! Great sound, great lyrics, great social justice message. Talkin’ bout a Revolution is going to be the next song I listen to over and over again to wring every drop of serotonin I can get from it.

Final thoughts of albums 50-41

Favorite album from this group is Tracy Chapman's self titled album.

As for my least favorite, it's really hard to choose between MIA and Ricki Lee Jones. They were both so deeply awful to listen to.

What I'm looking forward to in albums 40-31:

Kate Bush and my childhood favorite, Tina Turner

What I'm dreading in the next ten:

Björk. I've been doing my best to listen to all the albums from start to finish even if I don't like it. Björk might break the streak.

#music #music reaction #album review #hole #ricki lee jones #etta james #celia cruz #emmylou harris #dusty springfield #heart #mia #ella fitzgerald #tracy chapman

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lukewarmsoapytoast · 4 months ago

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UGH the URGE to just spam this acc with angst writing is INSANE. Sadly, I haven’t written a full-length read in a while, I’ve had college classes in the mornings and I get busy in the afternoons. So, my point is, HERE’S SOME QUOTES I CAME UP WITH OR WANT TO USE‼️‼️

Please only reuse w/ credit!

Most of these taken from irl because it was funny 😭

LET ME KNOW YOUR OPINIONS AND WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT QUOTES AND SUCH IN!!!

Quotes

•

"Of course you do, and you’re going to regret those bad decisions in the morning when you’re sober."

“What morning?”

•

“You ignore my requests like they’re food allergies at a foreign restaurant and you wonder why I wanna hang out with girls more.”

��

“I wish I could love you, too.”

•

“It’s because I’m in love with you.”

“Because you wha—oh my god, it all makes sense now.”

•

"Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. But you can't laugh, okay? Promise me you’ll listen without judgment."

“I mean unless you say that you managed to kill a god, I won’t laugh.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

•

“My love…You— You know there isn’t any recovering from this, the medics won’t arrive in time, I-I’ll die. I deserve to be made fun of for being that stupid, but I don’t regret my choice…saving you was my goal overall in life, my purpose, and I succeeded..I can die happy, but you need to let me go, first.”

•

“And how am I supposed to believe you, huh? You wanna bring that fucking whore in to confirm that you still love me? That you regret fucking her over and over, and over, repeatedly, on our own damn bed??”

“[First Name], I—”

“It’s [Last Name] now, that’s what you’ll be referring to me as. No more pet names, no more first name. Goodbye, find somebody else to manipulate.”

•

“Dude, you literally shot me.”

“I was beat as a child, do you hate me, do you want me dead, I know you do, I understand—”

•

“I have a penis and it isn’t mine. ☺️”

“Uhh, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Where r u rn??”

“I’m w ur mom”

“Bruh”

“The party you told me not to go to.”

“Omw.”

•

“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

“😈”

“Uh oh? Please tell me you haven’t written an essay about this already and I happened to send that around the time you finished it.”

“I think I'd have the ability to persuade people. It's nothing special but imagine how much success you could end up having and also how many people you could befriend. I like having friends. ALSO you can stop any wars with just a "Stop pretty pls 🥺👉👈" like it's the best superpower. You could save the world with it basically, screw pollution”

“Dear god, keep going. I’m interested.”

“People who wanna fly are confusing, like, go skydiving or something like that, pull a hiccup from HTTYD. And why obtain invisibility when you can just tell people you aren’t there?”

“Wait, you’ve got a point.”

“Somebody asking why we’re stalking them? Hit them with the ‘NUH UH! I’M NOT EVEN HERE, BABY! I’M A HALLUCINATION!’. That’ll win.”

“Oh my god you’re onto something.”

“Someone trying to end the world? Nope. ‘Pretty pls be a good person 🥺’ them.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since you asked.”

“YOU THOUGHT THAT UP THAT QUICKLY???”

•

"What if he thinks I'm being dense?"

"Then he'll stop liking you. Problem solved."

Ideas

•

When they're constantly assuring as they lay dying, "I'm fine, I'll be okay, don't worry about me, l'll live." But their final words, whispered, barely audible,

"I don't want to die."

•

“I’ll be there for you”, “I’m sorry”, “I love you”, over and over again. “don’t hurt yourself”, “We need a break”, “I need you”, All of this, but you never mean it. Never. Not when I need you, your mistakes are a record on loop, your love is as present as my father. You don’t care if I hurt myself, especially because you hurt me. Can this break last forever? You need me to do as you say, you don’t need me there.

•

If HS!Gojo had a crush he’d confess like this:

(Texting)

“Let’s go on a date, do you like sex? Lol. <3”

•

Chr picks up a completely dry and closed jar of salsa.

“Salsaaaa…”

Something drips on their toe.

“Is…Is it wet?”

Frantically checking the jar for water droplets or cracks. Nothing.

“Excuse me???”

Confused.

“WHY???”

Concerned.

•

Father telling small adopted demon child to stay behind while they search for a plushie.

"Perhaps you should stay here, honey. This is no place for a child anyways. I'm sure we don't want you getting kidnapped by some kind of murderer, do we?"

"👹" Foaming at the mouth.

"Dear god, what have I done?"

•

Two characters arguing in a group chat over who’s hotter and it turns into an argument over who would be a better boyfriend to you. This is how you make your grand entrance.

“What did I just stumble upon at this very unfortunate hour. I wish to die.”

#writing #quotes #Spotify

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novastories · 1 year ago

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Running Up That Hill

Title and chapter loosely inspired by the song “Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush.

Summary: Aurora ends up back in the field to help with a case. She starts coming to terms about her self-worth, but at a cost.

Warnings: Mentions of guns, bombs, cancer, and death/suicide.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry for the cliffhanger from the last chapter! 😬This one also contains another cliffhanger so…🫣 I’m so thankful that people are enjoying the story and loving Aurora and Bradley as much as I do 💖

Btw, I have a note for the people I tag at the end of the chapter, so if you’re tagged or want to be tagged, please read the note after the chapter! 💜

Thankful always for my beta reader and editor @reginleight

As always, likes are great and all, but comments, reblogs, and feedback are highly appreciated and loved! 🤭

Previous | Next | Masterlist

A few hours earlier

“You want me to do what?” Aurora looked at her boss with a confused look.

“I want you back in the field. Just for this case. It’s all hands on deck, and I trust you to be out on the field,” her boss looks at her. Agent Daniella Hopkins knew her agents' capabilities, that’s what made her a good boss.

“You know this case better than anyone,” she adds.

“That’s only because I was transferring the case into the computer, since I am on desk duty. I just help put the reports in the database,” Aurora sighs.

There were many cases and reports that got put on her desk, which she helped with typing and filing them into the system. The downside of desk duty.

“And you know those reports will help the case. It’s an advantage so we don’t have to put another agent in the field who has no idea what’s going on.”

“But why me? I’m supposed to be on desk duty for a reason.”

“Because, I know you Artemis. As much as you’re doing well behind the desk, you’re itching to go back out in the field.”

Aurora stood in front of her boss, fidgeting with her bracelet behind her back.

“That, and you were requested by the team that’s on the case.”

“What team?” Aurora questions.

As if on cue, the doors to Daniella’s office opened, and Aurora turned to gape at who had walked in.

“It’s good to see you, Artemis.”

Aurora smiles, and walks over to give Gibbs a hug.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Aurora smiled at him before noticing Ziva and Tony behind him.

“It is an all hands on deck case, Artemis. Who else better to have on this case than you?” Ziva smirks as Aurora turns to pull her into a hug next.

“I never thought I’d ever say this, but I actually missed you for a moment there, DiNozzo,” Aurora chuckles. Tony rolls his eyes and simply greets her with a hug of his own.

“I don’t know, little probie. I kind of miss not having a knife being thrown at me,” he tells her.

“McGee and Abby are getting set up in the lab and we’ll set up in your office.” Gibbs interrupts their conversation to inform her of the situation.

“The fact you went from a cubicle to your own office is just unfair,” Tony shakes his head.

“Let’s catch you up to speed, Artemis,” Ziva beckons Aurora out the door. Aurora turns to look at her boss, to which she nods.

—

“I still can’t believe you have your own office. If I ask for a transfer here, think I’d get an office too?” Tony looks out the window of Aurora’s office before getting smacked on the head from Gibbs.

“This isn’t a social call, DiNozzo. We have a job to do.”

McGee and Abby got to say their hellos to Aurora before Abby had to start working on some evidence for the case, while the team got settled in their temporary space in Aurora’s office.

Aurora was sitting on her desk facing the TV screen, while Ziva stood next to her. Tony went to sit at her desk (and began snooping), while Gibbs sat in the corner chair, sipping his coffee.

McGee was getting the TV screen ready to prep the case for Aurora.

“Alright, let’s catch you up to speed, Artemis.” Gibbs gestures to McGee to start.

“A petty officer in DC was found dead in a hotel room. Turns out, the San Diego office had put a nationwide BOLO search for him for his involvement in drug and weapon dealing. His name is Noah Ward.” McGee stated, showing the file up on screen for Aurora to see.

“I recognize the name,” Aurora stares at the profile on the screen. “He was in San Diego to help pay for his sister’s hospital treatments, but got caught by some local LEOs selling cocaine. He was about to turn the name of his supplier over, but he escaped before he could say anything and we lost track of him. He didn’t have any friends, and his only living relative left is his sister, Karli, who also didn’t know anything because she’s currently in a coma.”

“Well, now he’s dead,” Tony states.

Aurora turns to him. “No duh, DiNozzo. How did he even end up all the way in DC?”

“Fake ID got him a plane ticket to DC. He fled all the way to Washington DC to get out of San Diego, but died instead. We caught the killer, but it turns out he was just a hired hand, a hitman,” Ziva informs her.

“And did the hitman say who hired him?”

“Gee Artemis, now why didn’t we think of that?” Tony sarcastically replies.

Aurora gave him a murderous look to which he turned pale and continued on to what he was going to say.

“All he said was that he was contacted via email and that all the money was wire transferred to his account.”

“I tracked the email to San Diego, but that’s about as far as we got. We can’t even get a fix to which area of San Diego, so we figured that it’s best we find whoever it was that hired the hitman since it is still our case,” McGee explains.

“I wonder what was the reason to kill him,” Aurora thought out loud.

“Tying up loose ends most likely,” Tony shrugs as he starts touching things on Aurora’s desk.

“You’re just assuming this, we don’t even know if it’s his supplier, anyone could have had a grudge against him. And stop touching my stuff, DiNosy!” Aurora exclaims, slapping his hand off of a photo frame of her, her brother, and Bradley.

“Aurora’s right. Right now, we need to find out where he was getting his drugs from and go from there,” Gibbs concludes.

“DiNozzo, you and Ziva go over his cellphone records and bank statements. McGee, keep working on that email. You and Abby can work on that in her lab she has set up. Artemis, give me any files you have on the petty officer, the ones you’ve put into the system and the ones you have yet to type up.”

“Yes, boss!” They all reply while moving about to their destinations Aurora hops back into her desk chair to get started searching for more background on this guy.

“And Artemis,” Gibbs pauses at the doorway before turning back to Aurora.

Aurora turns her head towards him.

“Glad you’re back on the team for a bit.”

Aurora smiles. “Just like old times, boss.”

—

“Work has been so weird without you,” Abby tells Aurora as she sips her Caf-Pow.

Aurora didn’t have any luck with finding anything in her files or reports, so she had decided to take a snack break and visit Abby and McGee in the lab and bring Abby a Caf-Pow and McGee a coffee.

McGee was currently on his computer typing away, while Abby multi-tasked and had a program running in the background while talking to Aurora, who was seated on a stool next to her.

“Gibbs didn’t even want to find a replacement, so the team feels empty without you in it. But we’ve been getting by,” Abby continues.

“I miss you all too. It definitely feels weird being at the desk most of my day, but at least it gets me home at night,” Aurora shrugs. “Unlike when Gibbs called us at 3am for a dead body and we have to work 46 hours straight,” She sighs at the memory, munching on her chips.

“Oh, yeah! That case took way too long, I remember you were so tired you accidentally fell asleep in the elevator and Tony decided to wake you up with an airhorn.”

Aurora cringes at that memory. “And then I kicked him in the shins.”

“Fun times,” Abby nods while sipping her drink. “How’s your panic attacks by the way? Any bad ones since you’ve left?”

“A few, but not like how they used to be. So not too bad. Bradley helped calm me down, which was the latest one.”

“So about Bradley, please tell me you’ve made a move!”

“Abby!”

“Oh, c’mon! I can tell you’ve been anxious about something, you’re eating hot cheetos again.”

Aurora looks down at the bag of chips she’s been eating from and at her red dyed fingertips. Hot cheetos have been her staple snack when she’s anxious or overthinking, especially when she didn’t have her bracelet on her wrist during those times.

The team had seen her go through so many bags, especially when working a case. She had once made the mistake of doing paperwork while she was anxious and had to redo it because she’d accidentally gotten red powder over it.

“It helps me think!” Aurora whines.

“So, you’re telling me, you and Bradley haven’t had a moment or like made out yet?”

“Well, I mean there was this one moment-”

“Oh my gosh!”

“-but my brother accidentally interrupted us.”

Abby groans. “Rory, you just need to walk up and kiss him already! I don’t know how much more of your pining I can take.”

“I’m not pining!”

“Please! He so wants you!” Abby exclaims. “Like you both live together! How do you NOT have the temptation to like, do it right on the kitchen table?!”

“I didn’t say I haven’t thought about that!”

“Uhh, guys, I’m still here,” McGee pops his head out from behind the computer he was working on.

“Shush McGee, the women are talking here,” Abby sasses him.

“Not right now you’re not,” Gibbs walks in, coffee in hand. “Any luck with the background?” he asks Aurora.

“Nothing we don’t already know. Sister’s in a coma from a car accident for almost a year, Ward couldn’t keep up with the payments, so sold cocaine and weapons on the side from an unknown source up until he was caught, was then dishonorably discharged and was supposed to be tried until he escaped and that’s all the intel I have,” she informs him.

“I have a lead!” Tony exclaims as he and Ziva walk in.

“WE have a lead,” Ziva corrects him.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Tony dismisses. Ziva rolls her eyes.

“Anyways, we found the supplier,” Tony continues. “One of Ziva’s contacts owed her a favor and we found out that the supplier is a small group of people that operate in a warehouse near the edge of the city. They’re called the Dark Renegades.”

“I know of them. They've been on NCIS San Diego’s radar because they’ve been known to recruit officers who have been dishonorably discharged by the Navy,” Aurora pipes in.

“Why haven’t they been caught?” McGee asks.

“Because they kill their dealers and keep everything tied shut. The fact that Ziva’s contact found out the location is such a big deal.”

“Let’s go check it out. McGee, you stay here, send the warehouse floor plans to us when you get them. Artemis, you’re with us,” Gibbs orders.

“Good luck! Stay safe!” Abby calls out, as Aurora trails behind Ziva, Tony, and Gibbs.

“Are you good to be out on the field?” Gibbs asks Aurora in the elevator as they ascend floor levels to gear up.

“I’m ready, Gibbs,” Aurora reassures him. Gibbs gives her a small look of concern before he nods.

Ziva gives her shoulder a light squeeze before they all exit the elevator, Aurora letting out a sigh before she starts to get into her gear.

—

They arrived at the warehouse and made sure the coms in their ears were working. Tony was suggesting an attack plan, but none of them liked it.

“I’m just saying, if we came from the roof, we’d be like ninjas, they’d never see us coming. It’s like in the movie-”

“We don’t even have the equipment for that,” Ziva interrupts him and sighs at his stupidity.

“We can use rope!”

“I’m not dangling from a rope just to enter the warehouse.”

“But that way is more efficient,” Tony points out.

“No, that way is stupid and would get us killed,” Aurora corrects him.

“According to the floor plan McGee sent us, there’s a couple of side windows we can look inside to get a visual,” Gibbs interrupts them as they exit the car, which they park a block from the warehouse so they wouldn’t hear them coming.

“There’s also a front and back entrance. Ziva and Artemis, you get the back entrance. DiNozzo, you check out the situation from the window, I’ll cover the front until we have a plan.”

They agree before splitting to get into position.

“You good, Artemis?” Ziva turns to her, making sure the girl is doing alright.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Aurora nods, gun in hand.

“You know, I missed this. You, back on the team. Us, the unstoppable duo.”

“I miss this too, Ziva,” Aurora smiles at her.

“Aww, they’re having a girl moment,” Tony teases over coms.

“You know what Tony-”

“Enough chit chat. What’s your visual, DiNozzo?” Gibbs interrupts.

“I have 6 men, armed, scattered around the warehouse,” Tony asses. “No wait, no. Scratch that, 5 more men, also armed, just came out of the back office.”

“On my orders, Ziva, Artemis, you go in quietly. Tony, you and I will take the front when they’re in position.” Gibbs orders them.

They were silent, knowing Gibbs would take that as their answer as they prepared to enter from different places in order to quietly infiltrate. Tony moves to meet Gibbs at the front entrance.

“Okay, Ziva, Artemis go.”

Aurora opens the backdoor for Ziva to slip inside, while Aurora covers her. Ziva quietly navigates through the back part of the warehouse, with Aurora behind her, making sure there were no alarms or any threats behind them.

They silently enter the warehouse until the two come to a stop by a stack of crates, blocking them from the men, but getting a visual.

“Aurora and I have 4 men in sight, they all have automatic weapons on them,” Ziva whispers into her coms.

“Alright, you know the drill. If they start shooting when we go in, you shoot back,” Gibbs reminds them.

“Got it, Gibbs,” Aurora whispers.

“Alright. Ready, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asks him over the coms.

“Ready when you are, boss.”

A few seconds pass until Ziva and Aurora hear the front door of the warehouse get kicked down.

“Federal agents! Drop your weapons!” Gibbs yells out.

The men in the warehouse start shouting and automatically shoot at them so Gibbs and Tony take cover.

At that signal, Aurora takes out the man closest to her with a shot of her gun, hitting his shoulder. He goes down instantly and Aurora takes another shot at the man next to the guy that went down, immediately taking cover after knowing that they would soon retaliate with firepower of their own.

Ziva also starts shooting from her vantage point, not missing her marks, already taking down 2 men. Gibbs takes one man down on his side, while Tony hits one as well.

The rest of the men took cover and tried to shoot back at the agents.

Aurora moves slowly from her cover of boxes and peaks around to see two men aiming to shoot her. She quickly covers herself as they rain a bunch of bullets her way.

“Artemis!”

Ziva yells out, gesturing for Aurora to move to her left. There was a big gap between the crates to where the shooters could get her if she wasn’t fast enough.

Aurora takes a deep breath and starts to move towards Ziva. Aurora slides out from her spot, left leg out, right knee down as to help stabilize herself as she takes her two shots. Both shots end up taking down the two shooters that were cornering her.

Still sliding, she ends up next to Ziva, safely behind the crates.

“Nice move,” Ziva praises her.

“Nice shooting,” she replies back. “How many left?”

Ziva takes a glance, seeing that there was one guy left.

Before she could reply, Tony takes him down instantly with one shot.

“I think that’s it, but I think Gibbs is working on one more.”

Looking over and seeing who Aurora assumes is the leader, he was currently in the middle of hand to hand combat with Gibbs. Eventually Gibbs hit him in the stomach, then the throat, taking the man down.

“Clear here!” Ziva yells out from their spot.

“Clear!” Tony calls out.

Gibbs puts his handcuffs on the leader before lifting him to his feet.

“Let’s take him back to the office, hopefully we got our guy.”

“Don’t jinx it, Gibbs. I’m ready for this to be over,” Aurora sighs.

—

“Gibbs jinxed it! All of that and it turns out to be a dead end?!” Aurora groans, laying her head on her desk.

Turns out, no one in the Dark Renegades even knew that Noah Ward was dead. They were working on a big shipment of weapons that they were getting ready to sell.

No one in the group even had the technical skill of being able to block a trace. Basically, they weren’t smart enough to block a trace via email, therefore they weren’t the ones to kill the petty officer.

Gibbs had just finished interrogating the leader, who was now being charged and sent to jail.

“Well, at least we took them down,” Ziva reassures her.

They were all back in Aurora’s office, trying to regroup to see what they had missed.

“Now we’re back to square one on finding whoever hired the hitman,” Tony speaks up from his chair, hissing from a bruise on his face that he was currently icing. He accidentally ended up hitting the side of a crate earlier during the shootout.

McGee and Abby were still in the lab, trying to crack the email trace. Gibbs was updating both Director Vance and Agent Hopkins about the situation.

“What if someone had a grudge against Noah Ward? I mean, he was selling drugs, maybe someone wanted him to pay?” Aurora theorizes.

“Yeah, but who? He didn’t have a client list that we could go through. And even if he did, his list would be long,” Tony points out.

McGee rushes into Aurora’s office and puffs out air.

“Guys, I think Abby and I found a lead.”

They rush into the lab to where Abby and Gibbs were waiting.

“We were finally able to trace the email address to an Adam Lewis,” Abby pulls up his file. According to his file at glance, Adam Lewis was a Marine, honorably discharged a few years ago.

“He doesn’t seem like the hiring hitman type,” Ziva profiles from his photo.

“That’s because he wasn’t, but up until two years ago when he lost his daughter,” Abby switches his profile to the daughter’s profile.

“His daughter was another Naval petty officer that also happened to serve with Noah Ward. Her name was Isabella Lewis. She died from a drug overdose, cocaine was the source,” McGee informs.

“She was a drug user?” Aurora asks.

“That’s how she got dishonorably discharged, and then a few weeks after her discharge, she was found dead in her house. Her dad was the one that found her,” McGee answers.

Aurora’s heart broke hearing that. No father should see their child dead.

“So, I’m guessing Noah Ward was the one supplying her drugs?” Tony inquires.

“And you’d be correct,” Abby nods her confirmation. “But he wasn’t charged for her death because no one knew who supplied her drugs because Noah Ward wasn’t caught until a few days ago.”

“What’s the background on the father?” Gibbs questions.

“He’s currently working as one of the Navy contractor’s for IT support,” Tony reads from the profile.

“Which would explain why it took so long for his email to be cracked,” McGee points out.

“But get this when he was in the Corps, he didn’t just work in the communications unit, but also an EOD technician,” Tony keeps on reading out loud.

“EOD as in Explosive Ordnance Disposal,” Ziva confirms. The team stills at that information.

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” Aurora mumbles. Her phone beeps and she takes it out while Gibbs gives out orders.

“We need to find him. McGee, phone records and bank statements. Tony-”

“Oh my gosh,” Aurora interrupts him. They all turn to look at her.

“What is it?” Gibbs asks her.

Aurora, without a sound, moves to Abby, to which she moves and lets Aurora use the computer. She pulls up a live news feed and everyone freezes at what they see.

The news was reporting live that someone was holding hostages at a local coffee shop near the navy base by way of a bomb threat. About 20 people were in there, and that the criminal holding them hostage was the person they were looking for, Adam Lewis.

“No time to waste, everyone let’s go! Abby, you stay here!” Gibbs orders the team.

Gibbs, Ziva, Tony, McGee, and Aurora rush out, hoping they were able to make it in time to save the hostages.

—

“What’s the status of the situation?” Gibbs questions the lead officer in charge.

After explaining that the suspect inside was an NCIS suspect, the San Diego Police Department were more than willing to let NCIS be in charge, especially since they were still waiting for the bomb squad to arrive.

The police department had set up a ways away, with a few medical tents and a barricade in place.

“We can’t get a clear visual on the bomber,” A police officer on scene reports to them. “He took out all the security cameras and closed the blinds. We can’t send a man in there without him threatening to blow the place up if he doesn’t speak to NCIS. We did a scan of the area and it looks like he put the bomb in the basement of the coffee shop, which is their storage space. If we don’t take any action, he will blow himself and the hostages up,” the officer answers.

“What’s the bomb trigger?” Gibbs asks.

“Remote detonation, he has the remote in his hand, but we can’t find a way to trace or jam the signal from the remote to the bomb.”

“How many hostages?” Ziva inquires.

“27, men, women, and children. Most are Navy dependents. We figured that he was targeting them because of their connection.”

“Okay, Ziva, McGee, I want you to secure the perimeter, see if there’s any other way to get a visual without compromising yourselves,” Gibbs begins issuing out orders. “DiNozzo, you and Artemis stay here and wait for the bomb squad. I’ll go in and try to get him to talk.”

Aurora stays rooted in her spot before realizing what had to happen.

“Gibbs, I think I should go in,” Artemis speaks up.

“No, not an option,” he shuts down the idea quickly.

“Think about it, Gibbs. If I go in, he’ll see another woman that’s like his daughter. He’s more likely to be sympathetic towards me and let me release the hostages then.

“No! Absolutely not, Artemis. You could get hurt.”

“This is the job, Gibbs! Please, let me do this. It’s the only way he’ll release them. I’ll keep him talking while you guys find a way to take the shot without triggering the bomb,” Aurora pleads to him.

This was Aurora’s shot to prove that she can get the job done. She needed those hostages out of harm’s way from the crazy guy and his bomb. She needed to prove self-worth. And to keep everyone safe. But at what cost?

Gibbs stood there thinking about what she said. Tony, Ziva, and McGee look at him in disbelief that he would even think about it.

“Gibbs, this is insane,” Tony hisses.

“She raises a good point. She gets him talking enough to distract him, and we attach a live feed camera on her vest so we can see the detonator,” the lead police officer inputs.

“Gib-,” McGee argues but gets interrupted.

“You distract him until we can take the shot and disarm the bomb. And if it gets bad, you get out. You get out fast and run away even if he tries to blow himself up, got it?”

“Understood, sir,” Aurora nods.

“Alright, McGee, hook a camera up to her so we can get a visual inside. Tony and I will coordinate with the other police officers right now to get any more information about the situation. Ziva, stay with her.”

They all get to work quickly. Gibbs and Tony rush out, while McGee leads Aurora setting up a camera small enough to stay on her vest.

“I can’t believe you offered yourself like that, Artemis. That was stupid,” McGee mutters as he starts setting up the camera.

“I have no choice. If it was Gibbs, would you say the same thing?” Aurora defends herself. McGee stays silent while Ziva coaches her.

“You ask him to release the hostages and get him talking and distracted while we figure out a solution. You may have to try and talk him down so he doesn’t detonate, can you do that?”

Ziva was nervous for Aurora. She’s been in many situations like Aurora, but the fact that she’d now be watching Aurora go through it, didn’t sit right with her.

“I’ll be fine Ziva,” Aurora reassures her. “Can you actually do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Aurora takes off her charm bracelet, her hands trembling.

“No, Art-”

“Ziva, just listen to me. If anything happens to me, I need you to give this to Bradley.”

Ziva brings her hands on Aurora's shaking hands that were clasped on her bracelet.

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“I know, but please, just in case,” Aurora pleads to her as she slips the bracelet into Ziva’s hands.

Ziva solemnly nods as McGee pulls Aurora away to put the camera on her. Ziva grips the bracelet tightly, before tucking it away into one of her vest pockets for safety.

“Alright, signal is receiving, audio is working,” McGee reports just as Gibbs and Tony come back.

“You ready, Artemis? You don’t have to do this,” Gibbs assures her.

“I do, we need to get those people out before anything happens,” Aurora affirms. She was determined to get this over with, but she was nervous. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Alright, approach the door slowly, and just listen to me in your coms, got it?” Gibbs asks.

Aurora nods. She takes a deep breath before leaving the area and walking past the barricade, towards the door to the coffee shop. She opens the door slowly.

“Identify yourself!” A voice yells out.

“I’m NCIS Special Agent Aurora Benjamin-Mitchell. I heard you wanted to talk to NCIS,” she replies, slipping into the coffee shop.

She took in her surroundings and saw people scattered around the shop, all huddled, crying and scared.

In the middle of the shop, Adam Lewis sat in a chair, his right hand holding a gun, the left holding what looked to be the remote.

“So, you finally came. Took you long enough,” Adam scoffs. He sat confident, but Aurora could tell he was nervous.

“Let the hostages go, Adam. They don’t need to be here. You got what you want,” Aurora tells him.

“No! What I want is for NCIS to admit that it was their fault my daughter is dead, and that you should have done better.”

“Even if I said that, what good would it do? It won’t bring your daughter back!”

“Artemis, keep him talking, we think Ziva found a way into the basement of the coffee shop to try and disarm the bomb," she heard Gibbs say in her coms.

“Look, release the hostages, and we can talk about this, “ Artemis continued, trying to persuade Adam. He hesitates, getting a good look at her facial expression. She was determined to get the hostages out, but scared about his next actions.

Adam saw the determination in her eyes to do her job and get the hostages out safely. He saw his daughter in her eyes.

A few seconds later, the front door to the coffee shop opened and the hostages came running out. Children were clinging to their parents crying, while some of the police officers were helping lead them to the ambulances and medical tents they had set up.

“She did it, boss,” Tony proudly says from next to Gibbs.

“She’s not done yet, DiNozzo,” Gibbs corrects him. “Status update, Ziva.”

“This bomb is way too sophisticated for me to disarm, I’ve never seen one like this before.”

“He is a computer tech. He made and disarmed bombs for a living. Makes sense why it’s probably hard to disarm it,” McGee speaks up from his laptop.

Just then, Gibbs’ cell phone rang and he answered it, putting it on speakerphone for Tony to hear.

“Yeah, Abs?” Gibbs asks on the phone.

“Okay, so I was looking up his background, Gibbs. I found his bank statements and it turns out he spent most of his money on the hitman, and the rest went to a charity for veterans.”

“A charity? Why would he give away all his money?” Tony wonders out loud.

Gibbs was lost in thought before he was interrupted over his coms.

“Gibbs, I think there’s a timer on it,” Ziva informs them.

“How much time is left?”

“3 minutes and 23 seconds.”

“Try to disarm it, and if it reaches 1 minute you run out of there. Tony, what’s the status of the bomb squad, where are they?” Gibbs demands turning toward the other man.

“Won’t get here in time boss. They’re 7 minutes out.”

“Damnit!” Gibbs cusses, worried for his team.

He had Aurora talking to Adam Lewis and Ziva in the basement trying to disarm the bomb, he could only hope that Aurora would be able to talk him down, or Ziva disarms the bomb. He couldn’t lose either of them.

“Why would he bring a bomb to a coffee shop?” McGee asks from his laptop.

“Turns out, he and his daughter used to go there almost every Sunday since her mother passed away from cancer. It was the one place they shared together,” Abby answers.

“So what is his endgame? Why bring a bunch of hostages in and blow up the coffee shop?” Tony wonders.

“Should we inform Artemis of the situation?” McGee asks Gibbs.

“Not yet, if we tell her now, she’s going to panic. Which might cause him to panic and pull the trigger, remotely.”

“Boss-” Tony worriedly tries to talk him out of that decision, but Gibbs made up his mind.

“We wait until the last minute,” Gibbs orders, firmly.

“Look,” Aurora had her hands up, showing she wasn’t a threat. “I get that you lost your daughter, and I’m sorry about that. I know what it’s like to be scared that you lose your loved ones. I-I can’t even imagine how that feels when you found out what happened. She was a good person from what I read on her file, Adam.”

Aurora still stood near the door of the coffee shop. She had no idea what the status was on the bomb that Ziva was disarming or about why he was even threatening to blow up the coffee shop.

Adam looks at her sorrowfully. “You remind me of her, my daughter. Empathetic to strangers, brave, knowledgeable.”

Aurora stood silently.

“Tell me, agent. Do you have family who serve?” Adam wonders.

Adam could feel her sympathy radiating from her. He recognized the feeling anywhere, the hurt and pain of having someone that you love serve in the Navy. It was the same feeling he felt when his daughter had left on deployment.

“You can call me Aurora,” she replied, hoping to help build rapport with him, “And I do, my dad, best friend, and two of my godfather’s are Naval aviators. My brother is an aviation mechanic, also in the Navy. I almost lost my godfather in a training accident when I was little, and my other godfather to cancer.”

“Then you understand the pain when they leave, not knowing if they will ever return. But you never lost anyone?”

“I’m fortunate enough to never have felt that loss. I’ve lost many friends working at NCIS, losing a family member? I can’t even imagine. I wake up every day grateful for them to be alive, but your daughter Isabella wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“You didn’t know her! You don’t understand what it’s like!” Adam shouts. “To have someone ripped away from you forever and never see them again!” He was growing agitated.

Aurora stays silent. She had felt that feeling, she grew up with that feeling every time her dad left for a mission. The worry that he would never return. She felt that feeling the first time Bradley and Peyton were deployed. But losing someone to death, that was something she knew would break her, and she was lucky to never have known that.

“If only you had done your job, she would still be here! I had to hire a hitman in order to get the man that killed her! I got my revenge!” He screams at her, waving his gun around.

Aurora drew her gun out as a response. “Sometimes things don’t work out like that, Adam. Sometimes we don’t get the bad guy until it’s too late. There’s nothing else we can do. You blow us both up, and what will you have achieved?!” She cries out at him.

“I had him killed because I needed to make sure he was gone! I just want to hold my daughter one more time.” he starts crying, the grip on his gun loosening. “It should have been me that died.”

Aurora’s aim falters as she hears this.

“How much time do we have left, McGee?” Gibbs asks as Ziva had left the basement and ran back to the team and the officers. They were behind the barricade in case the bomb was going to go off.

“Less than a minute left, boss!”

“Artemis, get out of there! That’s an order! There’s a timer on the bomb!” Gibbs yells into his coms.

Aurora’s eyes widened as she heard this. “It’s on a timer?”

“I’m sorry, Aurora, I am. But I have to do this,” he cries. Adam just wanted to see his daughter one more time.

Then it dawned on Aurora. He was tying up loose ends. He hired the hitman in order to kill the man that caused his daughter’s death. Blowing up the coffee shop would put an end to the pain he felt losing his daughter.

This was his end game.

“How do we disarm it?” she worriedly asks both Gibbs, via her coms, as well as Adam.

Adam shook his head. “You can’t. I’m sorry.”

Aurora hesitates. She knew she should run, but she didn’t want to leave him.

Adam looks at her. “Go,” he whispers.

“I-“

“Go! For your family, Aurora, get out of here!” he cries out.

Aurora quickly rushes out of the coffee shop.

Adam closes his eyes as she exits, waiting for the bomb to take him. A tear leaks from his eyes as he smiles. He could finally be at peace.

Gibbs spots Aurora running out of the coffee shop and yells for her, but before she could even reach them, the bomb goes off.

Everyone braces and covers themselves. A few seconds later, Gibbs rises from his barricade to get a glimpse of Aurora.

“Artemis!”

Aurora was a few feet away from the barricade, sprawled on her right side and laying limp in the grass. She was barely conscious, bleeding from shrapnel that hit her. It didn’t look good.

Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony rush to her, while McGee yells for a medic. Aurora moans in pain as they rolled her onto her back, waiting for the medic to reach them.

“Artemis, c’mon, stay awake,” Ziva encourages her.

“Medic! Where’s the medic!” Tony hollers at McGee.

“They’re on the way!”

“Hold on, Aurora. C’mon kid,” Gibbs brushes her hair away from her face.

She coughs before looking up at Gibbs.

“I just need a little rest, just let me close my eyes a bit,” she croaks out.

“No, you stay awake Artemis, that’s an order.”

“The hostages-”

“They’re all safe, thanks to you.”

Aurora soon starts tearing up. “I couldn’t save him, Gibbs,” she cries. “I couldn’t save Adam Lewis.”

“Shhh, it’s alright. There was nothing else you could have done. It was a suicide for him from the start.”

She glances at Ziva as her eyes start to flutter.

“Tell my family I’m sorry. Tell Bra-”

“You’re going to tell them yourself, Aurora,” Ziva grips her hand tightly.

“I’m tired, I’m just gonna rest for a bit.”

Aurora smiles before her eyes start fluttering closed.

“No, stay awake, Artemis…Artemis!” Tony calls out to her.

Darkness takes over Aurora and soon everything was quiet.

- - -

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