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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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KILL4ME

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader (and kind of x female!OC but that’s not the main focus of anything)

Summary: You're a new actress trying to get your start. You end up getting your first role cast in a music video for Marilyn Manson’s “KILL4ME” music video but it turns out to be much more than you expected.

Warnings: SMUT (male x female, female x female)

A/N: 1) I made the reader straight with no prior female x female experiences. I don’t know why if I’m being honest but that’s how it is so please don’t come at me for it. 2) This is NOT how the film industry should work. If you’re trying to get into the industry, please stay safe, be responsible, and recognize red flags. Typically, randomly popping up pornographic requests is NOT professional or safe. This is just a fantasy I had while watching the music video and was written this way strictly for entertainment purposes.

Word Count: 5696

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This project requires nudity and sexual scenes. If you are not comfortable, do not apply.

The warning had been clear as day and yet, here you were, sitting in your car at the old mansion that was the filming site, nerves going off the charts and feeling less than comfortable with the imminent nudity and sexual scenes. You were an actor, you reminded yourself. This was the only job you’d landed since arriving in Los Angeles and, despite your promises to yourself and your family that you wouldn’t resort to full nudity for a project, there were bills that needed paying and your waitressing job wasn’t cutting it.

Besides, shouldn’t you be thrilled? This wasn’t just any music video you’d landed a role in but a music video for Marilyn Manson! He was a goth rock legend and you couldn’t hide your excitement when you’d found out who you’d been booked to work for.

But still, the nudity and sexuality made you uneasy. There hadn’t been a script or anything. Your only instructions were to come looking your best and with an open, ready to work mindset. So here you were, physically feeling like a million bucks but butterflies going crazy within.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, you opened the door to your barely working 2008 Honda Civic, feeling even more self-conscious when you saw the other cars that were parked outside of the massive mansion were all beautiful and sleek, most of them black and very expensive looking.

Crew members stirred around outside, entering and exiting the house with lights and props and sound equipment, everything needed for the production. You walked through the large black door that led into the beautiful white mansion, opening into an equally fantastic interior. You audibly gasped, “This is beautiful…”

“Y/N?” A woman’s voice questioned from beside you and you spun quickly to face her, snapping out of your amazed daze.

“Yes.” You answered hastily.

She checked the clipboard in her hand, “Great, you’re right on time. Come right this way, we’re gonna get you into hair and makeup.” You were about to reply when she’d taken off down the hall without giving you a moment to speak so you followed, avoiding the moving equipment around you.

Before you knew it, you’d been whisked away into a small room that was full of makeup, hair styling tools, and costumes. Nobody told you what they were doing as they pulled your hair straight and did up your makeup, surprisingly simpler than you’d expected with just light eyeshadow and moderate eyeliner.

“Alrighty, now I’m gonna have you undress and put on that robe over there.” The man in charge of costumes directed.

Your brows furrowed, “How undressed?”

“All the way, sweetie. No panties, no bra. It’s all gotta go.” He must have seen the uneasy look on your face because he gave you an unsympathetic shrug, “You signed up for a nude project, hun. Welcome to Hollywood.”

“Y/N is here. I believe that’s it, Mr. Manson.” The same woman as earlier announced as you entered the room you were supposed to be briefed in. It took everything in your power to remain professional when you saw Marilyn Manson standing there, talking casually with another girl who you assumed to be a co-star.

Like you, his makeup was already done up and he was in full costume. His face was painted pale white with a black loop drawn across one half and his other half blank except for the unnaturally blue contact and dark panda-like eyeliner. His lips were stained bright red and you almost felt like you were looking at a picture of him online.

“Thank you, Yolanda.” None other than The Marilyn Manson (and yes, “The” was now an official part of his name in your mind) thanked the woman who you assumed to be an assistant. “Come on in, Y/N.” He beckoned you into the room and you tried to front your most professional, most confident face but the way you held your robe tight to your body gave you away.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Manson.” You came up, reaching to shake his hand, “It’s a real honor to get to work with you.” Kiss ass, you muttered to yourself.

Instead of shaking your hand, he simply waved his hand in the air, “Ah, the pleasantries. I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you as well.”

You retracted your extended hand awkwardly, unsure of whether or not that was a blow off or him just being mysterious and cool, and scuttled to stand with the other girl. She was beautiful and blonde, tall and thin. Model-esque. You felt insecure next to her, especially in front of someone as influential as Manson. You were just you, an inexperienced actress-to-be, on her first professional job with a bunch of people who definitely knew their way around a camera.

“Alright, so I know you came here with minimal details,” Marilyn began, a weirdly neutral look on his very painted face, his tone flat and low. It was hard to read him with his contacts in. “Hopefully, that’s a good sign this will work well. You’re both willing to take risks. You’re flexible. Well, I’m here to give you the details. As you know, there is nudity and sex required for this video. It will be between you two,” You stiffened up awkwardly as he gestured all too casually between the two of you, “And my old friend here.”

On cue, none other than Johnny Depp walked into the room. Your jaw visibly hit the floor. There is no fucking way. “Hello.” He greeted with a smile, the same smile that you’d seen millions of times in his movies that you’d binged every so often.

Were you the only one feeling so shocked? Why the hell was the actress next to you so calm? Why was Johnny so calm? You were about pretend to fuck Johnny fucking Depp!

Johnny stepped forward to shake your hand, “I’m Johnny, nice to meet you,” He introduced politely.

Starstruck, you took his hand, “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you as well.” Then he leaned down and kissed your hand, actually kissed your hand like a fucking gentleman, eyes never leaving yours. God, the way he looked up at you through his strands of middle parted 90’s hair… it was enough to make your breath catch.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he moved from you to the girl next to you, “I’m Marie.” She responded to his introduction politely. He brought her hand to his lips as well but, maybe you were crazy - just imagining some fantasy, but it felt detached and fast when he did it to her.

“Great, well now that we all know each other,” Marilyn interjected as Johnny moved back to stand by his friend, “I’ll continue. I’ve already shot my parts so I’ll be here to direct you if needed but I want this as natural as possible. Aside from a few artistic shots, I need this to be raw, primal, and absolutely fucking filthy.”

You and Marie listened on in intent silence, soaking in his every word. But you found it hard to focus when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny eyeing you. No, no, it couldn’t be. He was probably just zoned out behind you.

***

A few hours later, all of the artistic shots had been done. There were shots of you pulling up thigh high stockings that clipped onto the garter belts hanging from your nearly sheer black underwear and having a leather corset tightened tightly on your back, cinching your waist smaller than you’d ever seen it. You had put on massively high heels and large, luxurious costume jewelry.

Even though the outfit could be seen as objectifying, you’d never felt more confident or powerful in your life. After your last shot of just your nearly bare thighs, you were dismissed momentarily so Marie could film her sections.

You walked over to your bag and took out a water bottle, not realizing how much this took out of you, running the same seemingly simple shots over and over again under blaring lights. “How long have you been acting?”

Oh God. It was him.

You turned to see Johnny standing next to you, very close, much closer than was considered polite distance but not so close that you felt suffocated. He looked gorgeous, hair hanging perfect from his beautiful tan skin. Earrings hung from his lobes, dangling just slightly. His white button up shirt was only buttoned half way, showing off his smooth, toned chest that barely showed any signs of his older age (not that he was ancient but he was definitely on your list of celebrities over 45 that you would let rail you). But the cherry on top was the eyeliner. The fucking eyeliner. It took you back to so many of his characters that you’d fallen in love with but with the white shirt and earrings, you were getting almost a refined Jack Sparrow crossed with Sweeney Todd feeling and God you’d never been so turned on by a pirate/ serial killer.

“You okay?” He asked, and you blinked rapidly, totally horrified that you’d been staring.

“Oh! Sorry! Um, this is my first real shoot, actually. You know how Hollywood is…” You chuckled awkwardly, reaching your hand around to rub your neck. Of course, he knew how Hollywood was, stupid! You cursed yourself, hoping you didn’t sound as dumb as you felt.

He leaned a hand up against the wall, “Yeah, I know how that is. But don’t worry, this is a great place to start.” He reassured, looking away at the set oh so casually. Your eyes trailed up his arm that had planted itself just beside you on the wall. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing?

No! He was Johnny Depp. He could have whichever woman he wanted at the bat of an eyelash. Why would he want you?

“Y/N! We’re ready for your scene with Marie!” The director called to you from behind the camera and you perked up.

“I better go.” You nodded over to the set, walking away awkwardly, almost scared that you be perceived as rude for having to do your job.

He chuckled and waved you on. This made you blush bright red and turn to run off to set.

You found yourself directed to a bed, “All right,” The director began, Marilyn standing directly next to him, hand on his chin as he watched his vision be brought to life, “Now, first, we’re going to get shots of you making out. I need it hot, I need it passionate. I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl before, make it look like you have. Next, we’re going to do totally nude shots of you grinding.”

Your eyelids fluttered slightly in shock at what he said. Okay, you could do that, you hyped yourself up.

Before you knew it, you were lying on the bed, Marie on top of you. Her soft lips were against yours and her nails raked gently down your throat, sending shocks down your body. Even though you were acting, it was hard to separate the feelings that arose, regardless of your sexuality. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you like this. Your hands tangled in her hair and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Cut!” The director yelled and Marie immediately pulled back, snapping out of character and back into her over-professional attitude. You, on the other hand, needed a brief moment to pull out of character. After just a second, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, Marie still straddling you. Your breasts filled the tight push up bra you wore but you felt surprisingly comfortable in it, even around all these people. That was, until you glanced over to see Johnny standing beside Marilyn, at first looking at a monitor and reviewing footage, but then over at you, his gaze stuck on your accentuated chest.

Your face flushed red as you quickly looked away, not seeing the amused smirk that graced his face. Little did you know, he was very aware of what he was doing and very pleased with your reaction.

“That was perfect. Now we’re gonna move onto the sex scenes.” He waved you and Marie over and you obeyed once she climbed off your torso.

Marilyn and Johnny too came over, completing the small group. Marilyn spoke, “Now you knew there was sex and nudity and I’m very pleased with how this is turning out,” He paused, giving you both a very serious look, “But now, I’m going to ask something of you that you probably aren’t comfortable with. Usually with sex scenes, there’s fabric in place to hide cocks and shit but I don’t want any of that. It distracts actors from the scene and there’s always the issue of whether or not you see it. I want raw, I want primal, I want absolutely fucking filthy.”

He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you and Marie to piece together his request, but filling in the rest when he saw both of your professional exteriors crack in confusion, “I want you to all actually fuck. Only if you’re comfortable with it but if you’re not you’ll be paid for the work you’ve done and we’ll find someone to replace you.”

You nearly choked, “Like… porn? You want this to be porn?” Johnny chuckled to himself, seeing your embarrassed, nervous reaction. You were so cute.

He looked pensive for just a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He answered bluntly, “Like I said, only if you’re comfortable with it but, if not, you’ll be fired for the rest of the video.”

Oh God, were you really about to agree to porn? Like actual fucking porn? Three way porn at that! But three porn with Johnny Depp…. It was the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do. But then again, your rent was due in two weeks and you were $300 short. “I’m in.” You answered, almost regretting it immediately.

“Me too.” Marie agreed, long arms crossed across her chest.

“Good. Now let’s get to it.”

The lesbian sex scene had gone by relatively hitch free, save for a few awkward placement issues. Marie, being straight as an arrow, had no clue what she was doing, and you too were inexperienced in the department but with a little direction, the scene was finished.

She knelt on her knees, holding your naked hips up and grinding your bare core against her own. Your eyes were closed, trying to remember every previous sexual encounter and porno you’d seen to try and make the sexiest faces and the sexiest form.

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off you as you writhed on the bed, completely naked and grinding up against another beautiful woman. Everything about you looked so authentic but innocent but dirty. He found himself craving you in the most unprofessional ways as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your hips.

When the scene was over, you nearly jumped off the bed and rushed for your robe. You were embarrassingly wet right now, the eye contact you’d made with Johnny while having your clit rubbed was just absolutely intoxicating and you were just thankful that you were able to control yourself enough to not get your juices all over Marie.

As they changed the scene around, you stood beside Johnny and Marilyn. “Method actor?” He asked.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“You looked pretty into the scene up there. Wonder what you were thinking about…” He continued. Your heart was in your throat. His tone was dark and sultry and implied exactly what he thought you were thinking about and boy was he correct. “As a method actor myself, I completely understand your… position.”

Johnny looked down at you, his dark eyes unyielding as he dove into your very soul and could see you every fantasy.

“Okay! Everyone on set!”

Ignore the cameras, you screamed at yourself. You’re not doing porn, you’re just having a threesome with Johnny Depp and some girl named Marie. Yeah, that was a convincing story to tell yourself. Just relax in this totally normal situation. Pfft, as if.

But you were an actress. Then something occurred to you, the ghost of a voice spoke to you. It was actually words spoken by Johnny in an old interview you’d seen him do, words that had stuck with you as a foundation in your training: “The most important thing that an actor needs to do is not to act, but to react. That's what it is all about, and you do one of the most difficult things in the world, which is to just be--to be in the state of being.”

Just relax. React to the scene. Be in the scene. Hell, this wasn’t even a scene anymore. This was a secret fantasy you’d never known you’d had coming to life. There wasn’t even any acting involved. So just be.

“Action!”

Immediately in character, you caressed Marie sexually, hands running along her sides as you nipped along her neck. Now that you were the dominant character, her scantily clad body was putty in your hands. Your teeth raked along her skin and you felt her shudder beneath your touch, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

Then a quiet metallic sound drew your attention. You and Marie both looked over towards the ornate door to see Johnny standing there, looking in through the gold grated peephole.

Marie looked at you, her eyes full of question. Should you let him in? Honestly, you weren’t sure if your characters knew who he was. No! Stop, you’re not playing a character now. You’re you. You are the character.

You chewed your lip seductively and walked over, legs crossing and hips rocking as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor. You reached down, perfectly manicured fingers gripping the handle delicately and unlocked the door. Before he could even get ahold of his surroundings, you had him by the collar and pulled him in. He could play all the sexy flirty games he wanted, but right now, you were in control and you were going to make him want you more than anything, even if it all was just for the camera.

His hands found your hips immediately as he attempted to steady himself but, gosh, all he wanted to do was take you here and now, preferably without Marie or the cameras, but he figured that if that’s what it took to fuck you, he was more than willing to compromise.

You pulled him in, your lips finally crashing against his. At first, he was hesitant but only for half a second, before he returned the kiss with even more fervor than you’d gone in with. Marie came up on his side and nibbled his ear, hands roaming up and down his chest between your very close bodies.

Johnny pulled back from this kiss and twisted just enough to snake an arm around Marie’s thin body and led her to face you. Then his hands came to firmly hold the back of each of your necks and forced your faces together, pressing you and the other woman to kiss. You both complied obediently, a strange mix of submissively and dominantly, like you were submitting to him but then fighting between the two of you.

Her lips moved graciously against yours, smooth and soft. It was so much more different than kissing a man. This felt delicate still despite the absolute filth that was ensuing. Her hand shot out to hold you by the jaw and pulled you in roughly, Johnny’s hand almost not needing to do anything.

He watched in amazement as the two of you obeyed his every physical command, the way you both looked so lost in each other. He knew you were straight just by interacting with you earlier but you could have had him fooled now.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in threeway with two other girls but this was definitely the hottest one. Before, it was all just to see if he could pull it off and then just to have the novelty of having girls bend to his will but this was different. You were different. He couldn't really explain it but he was completely enamored by you. An air of innocence surrounded you from the moment he set eyes on your otherworldly beauty but the saw in your eyes a fire that burned with the ability to be more than that. He was determined to see just how hot that fire burned.

He pulled you and Marie apart before bringing her to kiss him. While he did, his free hand absentmindedly groped your chest, your breasts spilling from the top of your push up bra. A twinge of jealousy went through you as you watched them kiss, although you knew how irrational it was. They were actors. You were too. There was nothing personal about this. But, for some unexplainable, unprofessional reason, there was for you.

You slinked behind the older man like a cat and ran your fingertips ever so gently across his closed shoulders and down his biceps. They trailed down his sides as his body moved from the intense makeout session with Marie before coming around to tease over his growing bulge. In his black well fitting pants.

His body tensed ever so slightly, barely noticeable except to you two, when your hand made contact with his erection. You smirked to yourself, a dark, sexy smile, the kind of smile you’d expect to see in a twisted Tim Burton film. You were finally the mysterious gothic beauty you’d always imagined yourself as in all of his stories.

With swift fingerwork and a quick, almost too skilled, flick of your wrist, you had Johnny’s belt whipped off him and held firmly in your hands. He pulled Marie off of him and shoved her roughly onto the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you walked in circles around him, trailing your gaze up and down his perfect body and dragging the leather of his belt on his torso and thighs as you did so.

The way you looked at him, like a lioness about to devour her prey, made Johnny feel like he was on fire. You seemed so in control and confident and you had a way of touching him, as if you knew exactly what made him tick. It was intoxicating.

His shirt was unbuttoned in a matter of seconds and without warning, he had you pressed back against the mattress as well. He crawled over your body, rolling his hips just right against your clothed core. A small, quiet whisper of a moan escaped your lips at the sudden, well placed contact.

Your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you, forcing his head into your neck. He kissed and sucked and nipped and licked just right, like he had a map to your body. You were embarrassingly wet from just kissing and you secretly prayed that nobody noticed but you were too lost in the moment to do anything about it.

Your leg wrapped around his waist and pulled him into you again. “Fuck…” His voice was a raspy, low whisper, said just loud enough for you three to hear.

Johnny kissed down your neck and across your breasts, moving over to Marie’s chest, which he dove into with full force. She squirmed and moaned beside you as he assaulted her perfect breasts. You rolled over as far as you could and caught her lips in yours, swallowing her moans.

That was, until Johnny’s hand trailed down to rub your core. You gasped into Marie’s full lips and rolled your hips into his hand, begging for more. Suddenly, he sat back onto his heels and grabbed your hips roughly, flipping you over onto all fours like he’d done it a million times before. “Ah!” You squealed slightly at the sudden action.

He climbed off the bed and knelt just behind you, palms rubbing over your ass and admiring every inch of you. Marie adjusted to sit just in front of you, legs spread to reveal her bare vagina before you. You weren’t sure when she’d lost her underwear but low and behold here you were face to face with all she had to bear. You’d never eaten a girl out before but you’d seen enough porn and fooled around with yourself enough to know what might work as a good start.

Cautiously, you started a few kitten licks to her clit, noticing every flinch or shudder that left her lips. Just as you began to get the hang of it, there was a loud rip as you felt the fabric of your panties be literally torn from your body. You gasped loudly, looking back behind you to see Johnny with his tongue between his teeth, admiring your body.

Johnny ran his surprisingly soft hands up and down your ass before dragging his fingertips through your already dripping folds. You moaned against Marie’s clit, her hands pulling on your hair, as his fingers circled your clit. You pressed your hips back against him, begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Before you knew it, the three of you were a tangle of limbs. At all times, you were being touched by someone, whether it was groping your chest, your ass, or your pussy, but it was always a game trying to figure out who it was. The heat was becoming unbearable and you were grateful for the lack of clothing. Your body was slicked in sweat, both yours and Johnny’s mostly.

He’d taken a clear preference to you and you almost felt bad for Marie but you didn’t feel too bad, seeing as how your lifelong fantasies were coming true. When someone was touching you, it was almost always Johnny, although he didn’t let his bias completely ruin the shot. He was a professional after all.

Soon, after at least ten minutes of blind fingering and hand jobs, you found yourself straddling Johnny as he lied naked on the bed. This was it, the moment you actually had sex with Johnny Depp. He held his large erection in one hand, guiding it to your entrance and then moved his hands to grip your hips tightly, lowering you down onto this length.

“Oh my… fuck-” You hissed out, throwing your head back as you adjusted to him. You’d never felt so full before, so complete. Without even moving, he made you feel absolutely incredible.

He chuckled sexily below you, loving your reaction. This whole scene had been a game with you, fighting for who was seducing who, who was in charge, but here he was finally proving it was him.

You steadied yourself on his chest, soft hands splayed out against his surprisingly taught, tattooed skin. To look at him like this, you never would have guessed how much older he was than you. He could pass for a very handsome man in his thirties easily.

You swiveled your hips experimentally and clenched your walls around his cock. Johnny sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips dug harshly into your skin, sure to leave little bruises in their place. You looked down and locked eye contact with him through your long eyelashes, your hair disheveled and hanging in your face sexily, as you squeezed your muscles around him yet again and moved your hips.

“Fucking hell.” He groaned out beautifully, short nails digging crescents into your skin. His grip moved to cup your ass cheeks from below, grabbing them firmly and moving you up and down until you found a pace that worked for both of you.

Marie lied on the bed beside Johnny, one leg strewn across his chest and the other behind your bouncing body, as she toyed with her clit with one hand and fingered herself with the other.

You reached down to play with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between your soft fingertips but the action was half hearted at best. All you could focus on was how Johnny felt inside you, hitting all the right spots. How you had him at your will just as much as you were at his. His hair was strewn around his face on the pillows like a damn god, his eyeliner smeared every so slightly from the sweat. His eyes screwed shut every now and then but otherwise, he looked at you like no other man had ever looked at you before.

He reached between your bodies and found your clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles. Your walls began to clench uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm nearing. Your back arched as you leaned back, moving your hands to rest on his thighs as you rose and fell on his length. Marie leaned down, attaching her lips to your perked nipples and biting one gently, licking over the skin to soothe it before doing it again.

Johnny reached down to finger her roughly as she ravaged your breasts. You continued to bounce, the new angle hitting that perfect spot inside you. “I’m gonna-” Marie whined out, her voice high and seductive.

You nodded quickly, eyes screwed shut, “Me too!” You exclaimed, trying with all your might to stave off your orgasm for as long as possible but the pleasure was just building up too much.

“Cum for me.” Johnny demanded from both of you and that was all it took for you to crash over the edge. Hot flashes stroke across your body in electric waves as your body failed to keep moving. He continued to lift your body for you, helping you ride out your high but his fingers dug tightly into your skin when your walls spasmed uncontrollably around him.

“Fuck!” Marie whined out, her legs shaking against Johnny’s body as she came.

You reluctantly rolled off Johnny’s body when you felt him lift you off and rested off to the side, breathing heavily while you recovered. He got up onto his knees next to you and stroked himself quickly, aggressively, using your slick to glide his hand across his erection, before painting Marie’s body in white ribbons.

“And cut!” The director’s voice yelled out, harshly returning you from your daydream. Your eyes suddenly snapped as wide as a deer caught in headlights as the studio lights flicked on around you and the crew was visible again. The reality of everything came crashing down on you. Shit, that wasn’t some secret fantasy in your head. That was a pornographic threesome with Johnny Depp and some woman named Marie!

You glanced over to the more experienced actress and breathed out a sigh of relief to see her looking the same way you did, completely shocked and a little disappointed at what you’d agreed to, but too pleased and amazed at what you’d just done to care too much before.

Johnny, on the other hand, looked like he was already recovering with a cool exterior. He’d already begun climbing off the bed to get his clothes back on, leaving you and Marie alone on the bed to register what had happened.

“Fuck me, that was hot.” Marilyn stepped onto the set, completely comfortable and practically ignoring the fact that he’d just watched his best friend fuck two women. You blushed a bright red. Great, you forgot that Marilyn Manson now would have the image of you fucking in his memories for forever. Not exactly the impression you typically went for in Hollywood… Or was it?

The director watched over the footage, “They looked like they were enjoying themselves a little too much.” He snorted, pointing out something on the screen to Marilyn and you just prayed that it wasn’t a funny face you made in the heat of the moment.

Marilyn waved him off, “No such thing as too much fun with sex, Paul.”

Even though the crew were all doing their various jobs, you were convinced that every eye was on you. WIth a beet red face, you slinked out of the bed, hands covering your breasts and keeping your thighs as close together as you could, trying to shield your nudity from the room. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your body, it was just the feeling of being so exposed to a room full of strangers that made the blood rush to your face.

You rushed around, trying to pick up whatever small scrap of clothing you could identify as yours. On the ground, beside the bed, was a crumpled heap of thin stringy black fabric. Your underwear! “Thank God!” You murmured to yourself, bending down to pick it up, only to have it fall in two, rendered unwearable.

Your face dropped when you saw it and sighed, starting to become more comfortable in your naked skin but more so because you had no other choice at the moment. Could you even request clothing from the crew? Where did your actual clothes end up? Why did you even think that was a ridiculous request to want your clothes back?

Just as you dropped the shredded underwear, ready to find a crew member and get your clothes back, you heard Johnny chuckle, low and sexy behind you, “You’re a great method actor,” He complimented with a wink and slight smirk, knowing damn well what he meant, the nonchalance of his entire being making you dumbfounded, “Perhaps, we could do this again under less professional circumstances.”

And with the invitation, said in the most casual way - as if inviting you for coffee, he pushed the last button through the loop of his pristine white button up, and walked to find his best friend, leaving you standing on set, naked, clutching the underwear he’d literally ripped from your body just minutes earlier, eyes on his majestic figure and trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

#johnny depp #johnny depp imagines #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp fanfic #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp smut #sweeney todd imagine #jack sparrow imagine #edward scissorhands imagine

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walviemort · 3 years ago

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Fairy Godfather, part 1

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He's been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: As usual, the muse has gone off and done whatever it wants to do, rather than, y'know, work on a WIP. Alas. The idea for this came about when I sent @sancocnutclub this picture of a woman who was supposedly pregnant with 10 babies; it has since come out as a hoax, but dang—her BUMP. Subsequent doodling and headcanoning brought about this story (also partly inspired by a conversation with SherlockianWhovian a while back), and here we are! I should note that this also takes place after a couple of past one-shots, which can be found here and here. Hope you like it!

rated T / 3k words / AO3

Of all the requests put in front of Killian in his long life, this was by far the oddest.

“You want me...to carry babies...for how many of you?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the query.

“Nine,” Blue answered matter-of-factly. “Normally, it wouldn’t be so many, but we’re past due for a brood. There was just no one around who we thought could handle it.”

“And he can?” Emma was at his side in the booth at Granny’s, where Blue and Tink had requested to meet with them. Their daughter, Hope, was sitting in the high chair at the end of the table, making a mess of some oatmeal.

“It helps if they’ve given birth before,” Tink replied. Well, he had done that—not intentionally, but he had been the one to carry and birth Hope, who was 10 months old now.

And while it had ended up being a beautiful experience, he obviously had reservations. “Yes, but that was only one baby—and you genuinely think I can handle nine?”

“We do,” Blue confirmed. “And we’d obviously provide as much help as we can.”

“It also wouldn’t be like a normal human pregnancy,” Tink added. “No morning sickness or cravings, or anything like that.”

“No, I’d just be massive,” he sighed; memories of his own perceived whale-like proportions toward the end of his pregnancy with Hope were still fresh; this had potential to put that to shame.

“Well, fairy newborns are smaller than the average human infant—less than 4 pounds. But yes, you would go full term.” Blue was awfully clinical in her statements.

Killian glanced down at his midsection, which had yet to fully regain its previous flatness, and he doubted it ever would. Especially not if he agreed to this. “I’m really your only option?” he asked again. “What about David?”

“It’s too soon,” Blue answered. David gave birth a couple months prior to their daughter Ruth, and as promised, Killian was at his side. However, he’d had to have a C-section, which slowed his recovery a bit compared to Killian’s. “And it must be done at the upcoming winter solstice, or we’ll have to wait another few years.”

Killian was about to suggest that until Tink jumped in. “Plus, you kind of still owe us for the whole hat thing.”

“That was the Dark One and you know it,” Emma snapped back, but they both knew Killian still harbored a fair amount of guilt over that. It was a low blow on their part, but not undeserved.

She most likely saw the acceptance in his eyes when they exchanged a glance, but he also saw she wasn’t quite there. “Does it really have to be a guy?” she enquired, turning back to the fairies. “I mean, there are lots of women here who meet your criteria, too.”

“It does,” they said simultaneously, though Tink at least looked somewhat apologetic.

Emma was ready to protest again, but he put his hand over hers on the table and told her with a look that it was okay. She reclined in her seat while he turned back to the pair. “I’ll agree, but with one condition: you’ll have to help pick up my slack—around town and at home,” he said evenly. He was sure he’d get to a point when it wasn’t feasible for him to continue as deputy, or at the library, or even keep up with Hope, who was dangerously close to walking.

“Actually, one more,” Emma added. “He’s not on the hook for any, like, actual fatherhood, right? You won’t be coming after him for child support or anything?”

“No, he's simply the surrogate,” Blue confirmed.

“And we’ll definitely help out—whatever you need,” Tink added.

Emma gave him a tentative but supportive look. “Then I’ll do it,” he told them.

“Excellent,” Blue stated with less enthusiasm than he expected. “We’ll send you more information soon, but the most important thing is to be at the convent next Saturday. Green,” she then turned to Tink, “come; we have much to do to prepare.” (Which was a polite way of asking her to slide out of the booth first.)

Tink rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll text you,” she said, and the two flitted out of the diner.

Killian and Emma were silent for a long moment after they left, other than making sure some oatmeal actually ended up in Hope’s mouth.

Emma started to clean up the baby and then said, “I know it’s too late now, but are you sure about this?”

“Not entirely,” he confessed, “but they were right—I do owe them.”

“You don’t,” Emma said matter-of-factly, “even though I know you think you do.” She wiped the mess off Hope’s face. “But if this will finally relieve some of that guilt, then I get it, and I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, love,” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to need it, I think.”

“Oh, you are,” she said wryly. “And you should probably start planning how you’ll tell my dad.”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, then dragged a hand down his face. “He’s going to be relentless.” What had been playful ribbing during their respective pregnancies was likely about to be amplified.

“Maybe you can talk to Belle? See if she knows anything on what to expect? Pun not intended.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he agreed, then followed Emma as she slipped out of the booth. He pulled Hope from the high chair and settled her in his left arm, then grabbed her diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Guess we’ll pick her brain now. See you later.” They kissed farewell and headed off to their respective jobs that day—Emma at the station, Killian at the library, where he’d taken something of an assistant librarian position (and could keep an eye on Hope and her “cousin” Gideon in between reshelving and assisting patrons).

Belle was surprised when he told him about the morning’s turn of events, but then got an almost academic excitement. “I can’t say I know much about their physiology, and I didn’t know this about their reproduction, but let’s see if we have anything.”

She dove into research while he took care of normal library functions, but by midday, didn’t have much to show for it.

“They’re so secretive! Obviously their existence is documented, and there’s mention of someone other than Blue being in charge at some point in the past, and that their young mature faster than average, but that’s it. What did they tell you?”

“Not much,” he answered, relaying what little he’d been told. “But they did call it a ‘brood’, so it sounds like multiples are common. Just not quite so many.”

“Do you think they’d let me take notes?” she wondered. “It’s not like there's any research journals on magical beings I could submit a paper to, but more for my own study.”

“If they don’t let you, I won’t do it,” he commented. “Do you still have everything from last time?” She’d done quite a bit of documentation on his first pregnancy, considering it was the product of a misunderstood spell.

“Of course; David’s, too.” Then she laughed. “Of all the things I imagined becoming an expert in, magical male pregnancy was not one of them.”

“Someone had to,” he countered.

“That’s true!”

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

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful, save for a text from Tink telling them when to arrive at the convent, and to make sure he ate lots of greens and wore something comfortable (which he took to mean stretchy). And they assented to Belle’s presence, too, which didn’t change anything but did make him feel more at ease.

David was something between amused and horrified about what Killian had agreed to, but ultimately glad they hadn’t asked him.

The afternoon of the solstice, before they headed to the convent, Belle took some notes and measurements of Killian as a baseline for her study—and honestly, he was kind of glad, if the proportions on this were going to be as overlarge as he expected. “How big do they make those maternity pants?” he asked Emma as Belle was making note of his waist size (not significantly larger than it used to be, he was at least proud to say).

Emma’s eyes grew large. “I don’t know; I think the fairies are gonna have to help with that one.”

“Let’s hope that’s a ways off, then,” he settled.

They dropped Hope off at Snow and David’s on their way to the convent, where they were greeted by Blue herself. She ushered them in without a word, and a couple other fairies were there to gather their belongings, before Blue guided them further into the building. Killian was both surprised and not to see that they were all in their traditional attire, though he was a bit shocked that they were all still large and not the miniscule size they were known for. Belle had had a similar question a few days ago; they’d ask at some point.

They were led into a large, candlelit room, where Tink suddenly appeared in front of him. “Drink this,” she commanded, holding a mug of steaming liquid, “and take off your shirt.”

“Is that necessary?” he asked as he took the mug.

“I mean, I already know what’s under there, so I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t,” she countered with a wink.

He complied with a sigh. The drink was a potion of some sort, he gathered almost immediately; a warm, tingly feeling took over his body as he drank it, eventually settling in his stomach, which made sense. Weirdly, though, when he removed his tshirt, there was a slight glow under the skin of his abdomen. (Belle was off to the side, furiously taking notes; Emma was next to her, trying to keep a straight face and surreptitiously taking pictures.)

Blue was watching a clock, and when it struck a seemingly random time—the peak of the solstice—she began chanting in a tongue he didn’t quite recognize, with others gradually joining in and forming a circle around him. The glow under his skin got brighter, especially in his midsection, although he didn’t feel any different—yet.

“Human,” Blue finally addressed him. “You have agreed to be the vessel for our young. Do you promise to protect them with your life, and care for them until they are ready to join our world?”

“I...yes,” he answered, as confidently as he could manage. “I will.”

Blue continued briefly in the foreign tongue, as did the others. “Now, let the gravidation commence.”

One of the fairies approached him with her hands cupped as the rest continued to chant; she was dressed all in pink, and he thought he’d seen her spending time with Grumpy on occasion. As she got closer, he saw a small ball of pink light pulsing her palm that she was murmuring to, until she was close enough to touch him.

And she did, guiding the ball of light toward his navel and then—it disappeared inside him as she pressed her hands against his stomach. He felt a small twinge inside as it settled within, but no pain—just a spark. The glow from his midsection briefly took on a pinkish hue, but then returned to the white color it had been emanating.

Each of the nine fairies did the same thing, one by one. He did wonder how it was decided who would be reproducing, given that there were far more than nine fairies present, but that was another question for a later date. They appeared before him in all colors of the spectrum—purple, seafoam, navy, yellow, fuschia—and then Tiger Lily’s deep orange joined the array of hues, followed by Tink’s bright green.

Blue was the last to approach, and her orb seemed to be the biggest of them all, which he supposed was no surprise. However, her hands lingered on his abdomen and she continued to chant, the intensity and volume increasing as everyone’s voices joined in.

He suddenly felt a slight cramp within—still nothing painful, but like his insides were being gently rearranged, which they probably were. Then his stomach glowed brighter, casting all the colors of the fairies whose offspring he was now carrying around the room.

“Gods above, watch over this man; let he be exalted among the fairies, and let no harm befall him nor our bairns,” Blue called out with a sense of finality.

The glow grew brighter, until it was too bright for him to look at, but then was gone in a flash. The fairies gave a collective hum that seemed to resolve the ceremony, and then began to file out of the room, although Tink approached and wrapped him in a soft robe.

He felt...he wasn’t sure. Content, at the very least, but also like he might float away were it not for the sensation of a weight within him holding him down. His hand drifted to his midsection, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was ever so slightly rounder than it was before he arrived; with nine babies in there, he supposed that made sense. He couldn’t feel any sensations of kicking yet, but it was probably too early—and honestly, he still kind of tingled all over. The analytical side of him wondered where they would be considered in their development relative to a human fetus—and if they’d even show up on an ultrasound.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Blue was still in front of him, but in the afterglow (literally) of the spell, he’d lost sense of anything else around him.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Possibly too good.”

Blue gave a small, knowing smile. “That tends to happen. Come, let’s sit; you must have more questions.” She gestured toward the door the fairies had exited out of and then moved toward it herself, expecting him to follow.

Emma was suddenly at his side, and Belle not far behind. “You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I seem to be,” he replied. “Have I ever told you how bloody beautiful you are?”

She grinned, amused. “Many times. What was in that cup?”

“Potion of some sort,” he shrugged as she started pushing him in the direction of the door. “Why?”

“Seemed like some really potent potables,” she quipped. Yeah, he did feel a little drunk.

He somehow ended up on a very plush couch, with Emma on one side and Belle on the other, sitting across from Blue, Tink, and Tiger Lily. Someone gave him a glass of water, and there was food on a coffee table, but he wasn’t much hungry.

Honestly, he was mostly fascinated with the stained glass windows in the room, and with inspecting whatever was going on in his stomach, until he did hear Belle ask a pertinent question:

“So why men?”

“Well, we’re all women,” Blue answered. “It does take two.”

“But I thought you said he was just a surrogate,” Emma countered. “Are these actually his babies? Because we didn’t agree to that.”

“No, they’re not; I suppose in modern terms, you’d say that we reproduce asexually. But nature still seems to demand the involvement of a man and a woman. So that’s why a willing male carries the brood.”

“Are there always so many?” Belle asked.

“No; usually only 4 or 5. But no one was available at the last solstice.”

Killian didn’t really pay attention to the next several questions regarding fairy reproduction—he’d read Belle’s notes later when he was a bit more focused—but he did eventually get to interject one of his own: “Why are you big right now, though? And why aren’t the babies going to be tiny?”

The fairies chuckled—he supposed his statement wasn’t as coherent as it sounded in his head—but still replied. “Shrinking is an acquired skill,” Tink said. “That’s why we weren’t small when we didn’t have our powers,” she explained, nodding at Tiger Lily.

“But once we learn, it’s our preferred size,” Blue added. “It’s easier to do our job then.”

That made sense.

“So, what else can he expect,” Emma asked. “I know you said it’d be different, but how much?”

“Well, the size, obviously—and you will still gain weight to support that,” Blue explained. “Increased appetite is to be expected, but no cravings or anything like that.”

“Your hormones will be altered, similar to a normal pregnancy,” Tiger Lily added. “But that just helps the body prepare for birth.”

“Bloody hell, what will that be like?” he wondered aloud.

“Nowhere near as difficult,” Blue laughed.

“Wait—if my hormones are affected…” He trailed off, remembering how much those threw him for a loop last time—particularly, certain desires. “I can still have sex, right?”

Emma covered her face with her hands at his blunt question, but it was important.

“Of course,” Blue said plainly. “Do whatever you need to—within reason, of course.”

“Although, don’t forget—you’ll be at least twice as big as last time,” Tink reminded. “At least. That might make it harder.”

More difficult, maybe, but it hadn’t altered either person’s desires the last time around. He turned to give Emma (what he thought was) a salacious look, but she just burst into giggles.

“Just—listen to your body,” Blue finally said. “For everything: rest, food, activity. The spell you drank will last the whole pregnancy and keep things going. We trust you, though.”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” he said, suddenly emotional, covering his stomach with his hand.

“Aaaand there’s the hormones,” Emma commented. “Come on; let’s get you home.”

He was suddenly very sleepy. “Aye; that’s a good idea.”

“Yes, he’s going to be tired the next couple of days,” Blue added. “But otherwise—see you in 40 weeks.”

Emma wrapped her arm around him, said goodbye, and poofed them straight back to their bedroom. He was nearly asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but had one last thing to ask Emma.

“You’ll still find me sexy when I’ve got a big, huge belly, right?”

She kissed his forehead. “Incredibly so. Sleep tight.”

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

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rebelwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Fight The Moonlight Part 2

Jax Teller x Reader

Part 1

A/N: I wasn’t planning on doing a part two but listening to the song “oh my love” by the score and dancing around my kitchen cleaning it I wanted no needed to do a part two 😂

Join The TagList Here 💜

Jax was serious about opening up a coyote bar in charming. Within a month of you revealing your old life to him, the Sons had brought a bar not too far from the compound. Every spare chance you got you were all hanging out there. Making the bar what you had visioned.

Today was the day you chose your girls, it would be a two part recruitment process. The first step was seeing if they could handle serving drinks. To put them to the test Jax had arranged a massive party, Sons from other charters had been arriving all afternoon. And so had the girls.

Lets just say everyone loved having new girls around the place however you had warned them all that they were off limits for now.

“Right tonight is going to be hard” You said sipping your beer as you leant against the bar looking at the 15 girls standing in front of you. “Trust me the guys you will be serving tonight are animals, I should know I am family”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jax walk in, his famous panty dropping smirk on his face as he threw you a wink. You also notice some of the girls practically drooling over your man. Making a mental note of the ones who did you jumped onto the bar so you were now sitting on it.

“First rule” You said, leaning your forearms on your thighs. “You see the blondie over there. He is off limits, and if I find any of you trying to seduce him, well I will cut you”

You knew Jax heard every word you said whilst he was sorting some paperwork at the reaper table as he had left the door open, it also meant you heard him laugh slightly.

“This isn’t your normal gig okay, like I said you will be serving animals tonight” You said sipping your beer again “so if you know you aren’t going to be up for it then I will not be offended if you walk out the door”

You paused for a moment and 5 of the girls walked out the door.

“Okay then” You nodded “Yes this is part one of the recruitment process but the main thing is have fun. Now go get ready the party starts in an hour”

As they all filed outside to do whatever you saw Jax leaning against the door frame, smirking at you.

“Seen something you like Teller” You giggled jumping off the bar, walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Mmmm very much so” He said huskily “You got me feeling certain ways watching you be a boss bitch”

“Well we have a bit of time to kill before the party starts” You whispered against his ear, nipping slightly as you squeezed his dick through his jeans, earning a low growl from your man.

“You don’t need to ask me twice darlin’” He smirked, throwing you over his shoulder practically running to his dorm.

Tonight was the night, the grand opening of the bar. Your girls were getting ready in the back room. Whereas you were standing in the middle of the empty bar taking it all in. Apart from the financial backing from the club this was all you. Feeling Jax wrap his arms around your waist you leaned back against his chest.

“I am proud of you darlin’ this place was a shit hole when we brought it” He whispered, placing a loving kiss on your forehead “Tonight is going to be amazing, you have worked so hard for tonight”

“I couldn’t have done it without you” You smiled kissing his knuckles.

“Anything for you darlin’ now you go get yourself ready” He grinned letting you out of his arms slapping your ass as you walked off.

You were now standing on top of the bar, in your denim shorts, your white SAMCRO shirt which you had ripped the sleeves off and turned it into a crop top and paired with your trusty converse along with Jax’s reaper crew cap. Placing your fingers in your mouth you whistled, gaining everyone's attention as you were joined on the bar by some of the girls.

“So I just want to say thank you for everyone turning up tonight” You grinned taking the mic off Opie. “Now I am not gonna bore you to death speaking because we all know what you came here for, so have a good night, drink loads and don’t forget to tip the girls”

Nodding at your girls, you then nodded at Chucky to high the music.

“Oh my love, let me be your fire, We're a thousand miles up and I'm 'bout to get higher. Feel my heart beating out my chest. You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed. Singing oh oh oh” You sang as you walked across the bar “Rest your head like it was made of stone. Next to mine, darling lay your bones. Hold you closer, let me show. We'll shape this world like it was meant to be. Made of clay for only you and me. Awake with you is better than a dream. Better than a dream”

“Oh my love, let me be your fire. We're a thousand miles up and I'm 'bout to get higher. Feel my heart beating out my chest. You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed. Singing oh oh oh”

Everyone was watching intently as you sang your heart out, dancing around the girls. One thing you were glad about was they picked the dance up pretty quick.

“Safe and sound is all you'll ever know. Shake the ground, the higher that we go. We'll take the stars and show 'em how to blow. Yeah, 'cause life is more than just a waiting game. And we're not waiting 'til it's time to play. The only rules I play by are you. Play by you”

“Oh my love, let me be your fire We're a thousand miles up and I'm 'bout to get higher. Feel my heart beating out my chest. You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed. Singing oh oh oh.” Your body moved to the beat of the music, smirking to yourself as Jax didn’t know what was coming, in fact no one did as you all jumped off the bar finding a man.

You sauntered over to Jax, smirking at him whilst you were still singing.

“I won't be afraid. If my spirit fades. 'Cause when I see your face. I know that I am saved. I won't be afraid. If my spirit fades. 'Cause when I see your face. I'm saved. Oh my love, let me be your fire” You sang as you ran your spare hand over his body, dropping to the floor like you did when you first danced for him, spinning around on the ball of your feet you pushed your ass out as you stood back up straight, grinding on your man.

The song came to an end when you were back on top of the bar. Jax had never seen your smile as bright and as wide as it was just night. He knew this decision wasn’t just the best for the club but for you, his future old lady. Seeing how happy this made you made him happy. Little did you know that tonight would be the night that Jax made you officially his old lady, and his fiancee.

“So it is official” You shouted slightly out of breath “The bar is open you fuckers, lets get drunk”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

#Jax teller #jax teller oneshot #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #Charlie hunnam

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whitefawnn · 4 years ago

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blood lettings (pt.4)

(c!wilbur x reader)

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 5 AO3

warnings: manipulation, vampirism, blood, disassociation, nightmares

note: read the warnings

Mirror, why am I always looking in the mirror? And god why do I always look back?

My eyes are beaty, almost completely black. I reach up to pull at my face with numb fingers. Push back the skin like I’m looking for something. I lift my lip up revealing sharp canines, the teeth of a predator. My brain is stopped at the sight. It can’t be real? Did I die? I pull down at my eyelids, search my arms for a sign, anything to explain, and once I look back up I see it. My eyes trailing over my neck; The expanse of skin covered in bite marks. Scabs, scars, and fresh and grotesque bruises litter my skin. My neck a sign of being used and owned, I feel sick. I’m always fucking sick.

I feel hands wrap around my waist from behind. I quickly lookup in the mirror to see Wilbur. His eyes scarlet, pupils blown wide. He roughly pulls me against him.

“Mine, all mine” He stares into me through the mirror, his voice all wrong. It’s scratchy, hard to even distinguish as words.

“No, no, no” he buries his head into my neck, and it feels all too familiar.

“It’s okay, you won’t last long.” I feel his fangs press into my skin, a burning in my veins.

I wake up in a jolt, my body rushing up in the strangely comfortable bed. My hands immediately holding my neck to find it unmarred, merely two marks to stand up to the thousands I’d seen in my nightmare.

“Wilbur, wouldn’t do that” I mutter to myself, rubbing my arms in comfort. I steadied my breathing looking around the unfamiliar room. Last time I checked I was on a horse? A window casts long shadows across the room, the moon illuminating a rectangle on the floorboards. The walls are dark oak, red curtains line the massive window, vermillion carpet adorning the floor, and a mass of books loomed over me from the farthest wall, it looked to be a taken-over woodland mansion from what I could tell. I remembered going to one with Ranboo, he insisted we needed totems, but I told him no one would need to fight anymore since Dream was imprisoned. I knew I was lying then as much as I do now. Everyone knew Dream would get out, it had just been a matter of time.

I got to my feet, swinging them over the massive bed. Wandering out into the hallway, I padded down the scarlet carpet, it muffling my footsteps. I needed to find Wilbur.

“Tsk, tsk. Miss sleeping beauty is finally awake, huh?” I spun around to be met by a crude insidious mask hovering above me. The smile seemed more deep set than his last one, the white paint not covering the wood due to a lack of sanding. “You like it, sweetheart?” I recoiled at the affectionate nickname, backing away from him.

“Where’s Wilbur?” I asked, steeling myself enough to be able talk to him.

“It’s always Wilbur this Wilbur that ever since I’ve gotten out. Can’t we have some time together?”

“No, we can’t, Dream.” I push malice into my voice as he lifted his head, a motion that hinted to the fact he had rolled his eyes under the mask.

“Fine, fine, maybe later then. He’s in his room, by the way,” he pointed behind me “it’s at the end of the hall.” I nodded and began to walk away “See you later, princess.” he called and I shook away his pet names, increasing my pace to the door that would get me to Wilbur, to safety. I didn’t waste time, quickly pressing open the door with a sigh of relief as I relaxed at the familiar smell of campfires and smoke.

Wilbur was sat on the ledge of the window, it swung open slightly. He held a cigarette between his lips, his head resting against the wall. Moonlight made his hair shine, the white streak seeming to glow. Long shadows were cast across his face, emphasizing how his eye bags had gotten increasingly worse since we were at my house.

“Wilbur?” I tentatively asked, pushing the door closed behind me. He slowly opened his eyes with a lazy smile, he seemed far away,

“y/n.” he said plainly taking the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing smoke out the window. I walked over to him and the closer I got the worse he looked. His hands were trembling; His lips were chapped and dry.

“Wilbur, are you okay?” he looked away from me, averting his gaze to the trees out the window.

“No, I guess not.” he stretched up his arms, pausing to reorient himself after “Dream, said-” he stopped again, pursing his lips and lifting his shaky hand to take another drag of his cigarette.

“He said what?” I prodded him, sitting down on the other side of the window ledge.

“The blood thing, y/n.” he crinkled his nose. “it’s why I’m so-“ he gestured to his head.

“Oh,” I studied his face. He slowly blinked seeming seconds away from passing out from exhaustion. “I-” he lowly whined, throwing the cigarette out the window. Wilbur weakly got to his feet, immediately tripping over nothing. I rushed up to catch him, him collapsing into me, his face pressed into my neck.

“Please,” he whined as I pulled him up.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” I moved him over to the bed, pressing the back of my hand against his forehead as he sat. He pulled my hand down, nuzzling into my wrist.

“y/n?” he seemed to be asking for permission, and I felt obliged to help seeing him so vulnerable. I nodded my head slowly. He roughly pulled me into his lap, me straddling his legs. Wilbur wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face into my neck. I tilted my head to allow him better access as my nerves built up. Flashes of my dream plaguing my mind. The hundreds of bite marks bleeding me dry.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I cried. I saw him in my mind, eyes a bright red instead of the rich wine I had come accustomed to since he had returned. I felt myself digging my fingers into his hair with a shuttered breath as my heart rate quickened.

“I would never even think about it, darling.” he pulled away from me, his eyes full of affection “are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m just using you.”

“Mhm.” I took a deep breath. Studying his worn-out face. He leaned into me, pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. He tilted my head by placing a hand on the back of my neck. Suddenly it was a stinging pain, a burn that passed through my veins just ike it had in my dream. It bloomed into a numb warmth as Wilbur continued. His mouth hot against my skin. He gasped for air, licking the part of my neck he had bitten.

“So good for me, so good.” he trailed kisses up my jaw eventually kissing me on the lips. His mouth tasting of iron, blood, and cigarette smoke. “thank you, thank you.” he breathed out, cupping my face. I ran my eyes over his features, his face was now flushed pink, his eyes dark. He smiled at me, his teeth coated in red, his fangs more prominent.

“Wilbur,” I felt the stress of the situation run back into me “we need to talk, now that you’re better.” he nodded his head absently. He seemed to deliberately be pulling in breaths of air, each one making him seem that much brighter. “Dream.”

“Dream.” he repeated, still staring at me with a hunger in his eyes “I know you don’t get it, I promise I do.” I huffed at him, knowing he was gonna dismiss Dream’s actions “but I owe him everything.”

“No, you don’t. Especially not now, aren’t you guys even? You broke him out already, Wilbur.” reasoning with him on the matter felt impossible.

“Yes, but look where we are right now. For all, we know if Dream wasn’t here I’d be in prison.”

“That’s not true, if he wasn’t fucking here we’d be at home, and we’d be with our friends Wilbur,” I said incredulous about what he had stated.

“If he wasn’t here, I’d still be dead, and they are your friends, not mine” he remarked.

“what do you mean?” I looked at him, hurt clear on his face.

“they fucking hate me, y/n.” he looked away “because of what I did, they hate me, and I’m fucking sick of walking on eggshells and apologizing.”

“Wilbur,” I cupped his cheek, rubbing my thumb under his eye. He pulled my hand down, holding it in his own.

“We should talk about this tomorrow.” my hopes of change fell “It’s late, my dear. I promise I am not trying to push this away, but I think the morning will bring better clarity to the situation. We can’t argue in this state.”

“Fine.” I looked at him in the eyes “but I need you to listen to me, at least consider what I’m saying Wilbur”

“Anything for you.”

#wilbur x reader #mcyt x reader

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chemicalpink · 4 years ago

Text

How to be a Heartbreaker ♡ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, a bit of crack

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: protected sex, emotionally unavailable Jungkook, bisexual JK (implied)

A/N: HELLO whoa I thought this would be longer but as always I procrastinated until the end, anyhow, I hope you like this, please let me know what you think! I’ll keep on working on the drabbles on my inbox, I hope you are doing okay and if you need anything as far as internet would let me help, I’m here for you! Please use a mask if you go out! Stay healthy!

Summary: Girls they like a little danger and I’ll get them falling for a stranger, a player singing ‘I love you’. At least… I think I do.

Rule No.1: You gotta have fun but when you’re done, you gotta be the first to run.

You catch some movement out of the corner of your eye just as you are about to enter your room after some minutes spent doing your late dorm routine as head of the student council, having to verify that the place is intact for the night; you turn around to see none other than Jeon Jungkook, verified bad boy of campus closing a door– that is most definitely not his– as silently as possible, dishevelled hair and barely buttoned-up shirt, jacket in hand, his doe eyes expand in surprise as you catch him with a mocking smirk on your face and hand on your hip, as if asking for an explanation.

“Uh-we were studying”

“Of course you were” you laugh as he fumbles with his buttons while he approaches you, close enough to let you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with whoever it was his laid of the night “You know you can’t be here this late, Jungkook”

He stares right back at you and glances down to your lips, caught in between your teeth from the obvious tension the scenario conveys, innocent shocked face long gone and replaced with a look that you very much have the pleasure of knowing as he whispers against your mouth, “Let me make it up to you then”

His large hand caressed the inner part of your thigh and starts rising upwards just in time his lips swallow your surprised moan; fingers teasing your clothed clit, a chuckle reverberating in Jungkook’s chest as you groaned unamused, separating your mouth to breathe “Stop teasing, you asshole”

Your room door closed just as quick as it opened, Jungkook’s form pushing you against the wall as he continued to kiss you, lusted eyes and fast anxious fingers working each other’s clothes, although there wasn’t much on Jungkook to begin with “I’m gonna be in so much trouble if someone sees you walking out of my room”

“I’ll jump out the window then”

“Or you know, you could stay the night” you suggest, although deep down you know Jungkook just doesn’t do pillow talk, never have, never will, he had told you one day as he put his clothes back on before rushing out the door.

“I’ll jump out of the window” just as you are about to come back at him with how much stupider that sounds, his mouth encloses your nipple, tongue working it the way only he knows how to, shutting you up surely, at least until he inserts two digits inside you, pumping them roughly, touching all the right places, your right leg coming up to round his waist, both of your breaths hitched as you have to grip his shoulders to ground yourself to the force that he is fucking you with his fingers; Jungkook grabs your other leg to hoist you up against his warm skin, hands under your ass, yours still gripping him tightly, fear of letting him escape you one more time, though you know he will do after he is done with you.

You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your folds from the position you are both in, his face lighting up in something you could pinpoint as fondness, if you didn’t know better than who Jungkook was, before he throws you on top of the bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses that only help to fuel the heat in the pit of your stomach– a very much Jungkook signature move, from what you can tell and have been able to witness firsthandedly so far.

Jungkook was very much the type of person to get down to business, all the while not being really vocal in bed–or out of bed, for that matter. He just really liked to keep to himself and make you enjoy the moment. At least that’s what you’ve heard from all the other girls that he had left hoping for a good morning text the day after, or seconds, for that matter. Jeon Jungkook also didn’t do seconds, unless it was you. But nobody has to know about that.

He pretends he couldn’t just flip you over himself as a teasing smile takes over his features from seeing you on top of him, placing a wet kiss under his jaw as you trailed kisses down his toned chest and abs before reaching for his already hard cock; taking it in your hand you gave it a few pumps before licking the tip teasingly while looking up at him, a gasp escaping past his lips, closed lids and subconsciously grinding up as you took all of his length in your mouth, tongue licking the veiny side and kitten licking the tip before letting him prod the back of your throat, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you there for a few seconds, relishing in the pleasure that he wasn’t quite aware he could be given “Wait, stop. I need to fuck you”

You smile innocently at him before straddling him, him sitting up to kiss you senseless once again, tasting himself on your tongue only serving as a way to fuel him further, something inside him snapping at the sight of you all flushed and needy, skilled fingers confirming just how wet you had become just from blowing him.

Jungkook places a firm grip on your thigh and finally sinks into you once before retracting and teasing your folds with your own juices that lubricate his dick, taking his time to have you wriggling underneath him, begging him to go faster, harder. Which he gladly delivers.

He fucks you as no other had before, not even himself. Hard, relentlessly, with a look of pure admiration on his eyes as he watches you squirm and moan in pleasure, which he would never admit to, but at the time it makes his heart fill with pride and even makes him want to spend the night over. But he knows he shouldn’t, so he hoists your leg up to his hip as he pistons even faster, deeper, harder on the new angle in an attempt to make him forget just how much you captivate him; the loudest moan he has ever gotten from you leaving your lips as he feels the need to keep hearing those, but his stamina is wearing off and he can feel his high approaching at the same time as your walls clench around him, legs shaking as he spills inside you–something that is reserved for you only, ever since this weird thing you two had going on began; which he knows is weird feeling his heart pump faster at the thought but it does anyway.

“Are you sleeping over?” you ask tiredly after he had cleaned both of you up and had tucked you into bed, barely keeping yourself awake, you already knew the answer but still gave it a shot.

“You know I don’t do that, Y/N. I’m not that type of guy” his shirt is dangling unbuttoned just the way you had encountered him earlier, this time, however, even more crumpled up, your eyelids close as he bends down to place a sweet kiss on your temple, still conscious enough to hear the door click on his way out.

Rule No.2: Don’t get attached to somebody you could lose

It wasn’t like Jungkook and you didn’t get along outside of your usual rendezvous; just that you tended not to gravitate to each other that much, you were pretty much all over the place being president of the student council and he was, well, all over the place but for less academic reasons.

You being the goody two shoes that you were came convenient to him, you two would cross paths while he was hanging with his friends at the basketball court, and you would already be there doing some planning ahead for the next campus event, and yeah, so what if he wasn’t meant to talk to you after the first time you two had fucked, he kept repeating himself that the reason he was so into keeping himself on your good side was because you could get him out of trouble if the time came where he needed your assistance.

At first, when a few days had gone by and you weren’t bumping into each other, he didn’t think much of it, but by Friday during a massive student reunion, he could feel his heart thumping against his chest when instead of you stepping up to the podium, was the student council vice president, and your friend, Namjoon– whom which he will admit, he kinda had a crush on but that’s another story.

“You’re looking for someone, dude?” Hoseok appeared to his right, bright smile as usual, but thsi time with a teasing undertone he had been hoping to get away from

“Nah”

“Really? Cause I heard that Y/N-” Jugkook’s head has never snapped back so fast before at the mention of your name, his inner self mentally slapping him for being so obvious about it, except, no, he did not had a crush on you. You two just slept around. That's it. “Yahh, I thought you were meant to be a heartbreaker, JK”

“I am”

“Doesn’t look like it” the elder took a seat next to him “So, wanna hear about Y/N then? or I mean- if she’s just one more notch in your belt I guess you wouldn’t mind much”

“Yahh hyung, if you want to spill it, do” he had hoped his retort sounded more nonchalant to Heseok than in did to his own ears, either way he was sure he would never live it down.

“Well I don’t know where she is per se, but maybe you can as Namjoonie? I just know she was sick” his head began racing with thoughts. You two had become close over the months, there’s no use in denying it, but just exactly how weird would it be for him, a casual laid, to show up at your door? Plus, he wasn’t meant to do that, he was Jungkook, the campus bad boy that did ‘em and left ‘em, how damaged would his image be if people started talking? or your image? student council president sleeping around with a player? He couldn’t do that to you. Wait. Why is he even worried about you? Jungkook doesn’t care about other people, that brings too many problems. He doesn’t even know your out of campus adress, but he guesses he could ask Namjoon, then again, he kinda may or may not have a crush on the guy and somehow Jungkook makes all their interactions awkward as fuck, but it is not his fault! The guy just has these incredible thighs that he would like to be choked with, thank you very much.

“You’re zoning out again Jungkookie” he blinked a few times before looking back at Hoseok, bright, teasing smile still on his lips

“I’m fucked” he whispers before getting up from his current spot and dashes to the side of the auditorium where Namjoon is seated after giving an amazing speech– he’s sure of it, even though he didn’t hear a word.

Rule No.3: Wear your heart on your cheek

“Jungkook?” you said as you opened the door of your apartment, confused as to why and exactly how would Jungkook know your address, it was no secret that as part of the student council you were given a dorm, which you used on an almost daily basis but sometimes you just had to clear your mind and stay out– Jungkook and you had only been together on said dorm room. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh- I’m- ah, I brought- um, food?” he brought his hand up for you to see the take out bag, his cheeks flushed accompanied his stammering statement, truly the cutest thing you had ever seen on him, cause sure, Jeon Jungkook on campus was hot as sin, but he didn’t do feelings, so seeing him all timid and offering you food, instead of his dick, was enough to give you whiplash.

“I don’t understand” you turned to him as you both worked on setting the table, the time filled with silence ever since he had come into your house “What’s all of this for?”

He turned your way and his heart started thumping against his chest wildly once again, his inner self actively screaming at him that this wasn’t his way of doing things, he was about to break one of the rules he had set up for himself, just how he did every time he saw you, perhaps he just couldn’t control the way he felt about you, Hoseok had been right all along, he either grew a pair and tried out the romance bullshit or he stopped seeing you all together, he went to your home on a mission, he just didn’t know which one yet.

“Namjoon hyung gave me your address, he mentioned you hadn’t been feeling well”

You hummed in thought and Jungkook could feel his fight or flight instincts kick in, telling him to run as fast and far away from you as possible, there is no way he is doing this shit. He physically can’t just blurt out a ‘hey I think I like you, Y/N’ he might as well die.

The silence that took over the room tumbled on the verge of being awkward, were it not for the two of you eating what Jungkook brought over “Jungkook, what is this for you?” he turned to look at you, mouth still full with noodles as he did so, before choking on his food at the smallest of words leaving your mouth “us, I mean”

He cleared his throat thrice “Us?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t do feelings, Y/N” ther ewas currently a massive ‘abort mission’ sign on his mind, sure, you looked cute as fuck in sweats and loose shirt – which he kept imagining to be his own– but there was just no possible way that he is doing this. He is definitely not ready to leave his usual lifestyle, how could he have thought that he could stop sleeping around and just stay with you. How could he have thought to do that to you, dating him was probably the last thing you wanted, you were the complete opposite of him. Fuck. He’s zoning out again. Focus Jungkook. Focus. “Listen, Y/N, I’m- we’ve known each other for quite some time, right?”

“If, making out and fucking can count as quality time, yeah” you giggled at the way his cheeks started to flush bright red, new favourite activity: make Jungkook the bad boy blush.

“This is really hard for me, like, really” he paused and closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath in “And I don’t even know what I’m thinking of, but I have come to the realisation that I like you a-and I don’t even know if you feel the same, man, I fucked up real big, we haven’t really talked, hell, we don’t even know each other and yeah, I’m stupid but I can’t help it anym-”

“Koo, you’re ranting”

His face flushed even further, if possible

“Sorry”

“You do that often?” you asked, looking for his sparkling doe eyes that were already looking back at you

“Yeah, my friends say so”

“That’s cute”

Rule No.4: Kiss goodbye at the door and leave them wanting more.

“So we’ll hang out tomorrow?” you asked, body resting against your door frame as Jugkook stood tall in front of you, your hand coming up to fix his hair back in place, a smile tugging at both of your lips

“Yeah” he said before leaning in and capturing your lips on a teasing kiss, his teeth gently tugging at your lower lip, at which you pulled him into you to deepen the kiss, just the way you already know drives him crazy, his hands wrapping themselves on your waist, smiling against your lips before separating the two of you went he felt you getting a little too much eager “Yahh Y/N, let me take you out for dinner first”

“And you’re the one to talk”

He pecked your lips one last time before turning away and seeing him disappear down the stairs, a whole zoo on your stomach, heart racing inside his chest. That was easier than he initially thought it would be. He’ll keep you falling for a stranger, saying ‘I love you’, at least, he thinks he does.

#bts imagine #bts smut #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook imagine #bts scenarios #bts x reader

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alicanta77 · 4 years ago

Text

Finale: All or Nothing

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: angst, fluff, suspense(?)

Warnings: swearing, zombies, blood, violence, death, virus, illness, anxiety, mentions of abusive family, needles (one injection)

Words: 12.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

——————————————————————————

The inspiration for this story came from my amazing friend @2-cute-4-school and her story called ‘Evanescent’. Her work is so brilliant and she is such an under-appreciated writer. I can’t recommend or praise her enough. Thank you to the ends of the earth for letting me use it as a starting point.

I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read post mortem. This is my first series and it so special to me so it means so much to receive likes, comments and tags saying that you enjoyed it. It has brought me brilliant friends such as @in-my-neofeelings and @honei-n and I couldn’t be more thankful for that. It’s been a wild ride so far and I hope you enjoy the finale!

Felix xox

——————————————————————————

Jeno walked swiftly down the hallway. He had holding a single piece of paper, folded in half to hide what was on it and his feet were almost silent as he made his way to your room. He turned a quick corner, knocking on your door three times, pausing for a second, then knocking again twice, before letting himself in.

He closed the door behind him, twisting the lock so that it clicked, before turning around and facing the rest of you. He held up the paper in his hands.

‘I’ve mapped out the blueprint of the army base.’

I.N. spoke next, running a hand through his hair to hide the fact that it was shaking slightly.

‘I’ve figured out how to override the system.’

Wooyoung joined in, swallowing before talking.

‘I’ve sorted our weapons.’

You spoke last.

‘I’ve planned our route.’

The four of you looked around at each other, your obvious nerves making the tension levels rise.

I.N. took a deep breath.

‘Ok, so we’re all set for going back into the simulation.’

You nodded, determination taking over your mind as you shared a look with the boys in front of you.

‘Let’s blow this thing up.’

It hadn’t been easy to get organised. Especially not without drawing any attention to yourselves. Jeno had managed to draw up a map of the army base, marking the easiest route to the kill switch. He still remembered the ins and outs of that place from his summer camp, therefore was nominated the best person for the job. I.N. had spent his few days in the tech lab. He worked alongside a few other technicians, supporting people in the simulation. He quickly realised however, that they weren’t supporting them, but instead were directing packs of zombies towards them, trying to get as many people as possible to turn. It was in mindless conversations with these people that I.N. managed to ask a few questions about the system and get a vague understanding of how it worked. Wooyoung had been the one to realise that you would need weapons. Once the people here figured out that you had gone, they were going to come after you with everything they had. You knew too much. You were going to have to protect yourself, and Wooyoung managed to figure out how. And your job was to plan the way to the army base. You were hoping that I.N. could find a way to place you at the army base but, just in case, you had planned seven other routes. You had also spoken to Donghyuck’s sister, begging her to stay safe and keep her head down for the time you were away. You didn’t tell her much, only that you were going to get Donghyuck. She seemed to understand a lot more than you thought she did, as she gently held on to you while you hugged goodbye, taking the chance to whisper “do what you have to” in your ear. You had no idea if she had figured out what was really going on, but you knew you would never underestimate the girl again.

Tomorrow was the big day. Tomorrow was when it mattered. Tomorrow you went back into the simulation.

---

You were lying in bed that night, Jeno next to you as you chatted with each other about random things, trying to ease your nerves. You were glad that he hadn’t left you alone, instead claiming that he would wait for you to fall asleep before heading back to his own room.

‘What do you think will happen to us in there?’ He asked, changing the subject from whether starfish have feelings to the task ahead of you.

‘I don’t know.’ You answered honestly. ‘Probably what happened before, except harder. There are more zombies and we have to be careful not to get bitten. I mean, we always were careful but... everything relies on us now.’

‘As long as one of us makes it we’ll be okay.’ He reasoned, keeping his eyes on the ceiling above him. ‘We’re gonna get to see everyone again too.’

‘Yeah.’ You breathed out, your mind filled with the memories of Hyuck and you couldn’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to see him again. ‘It feels like it’s been a lifetime since I saw them last.’

‘I know.’ Jeno replied. And he really did. Since you both got your real memories back, your friendship had gone right back to normal. It was such a relief to have someone who understood the situation you were both put in, especially as it was so hard to explain.

A silence fell over the two of you for a second.

‘Are you thinking about Hyuck?’ He asked, turning his head to look at you.

‘Yeah.’ You said honestly, keeping your eyes on the ceiling and blinking back the tears that were gathering. ‘I miss him.’

‘I know you do... I also know that he misses you too, if not more. I still can’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that they actually think that we’re dead.’ Jeno looked back at the ceiling, blinking back tears of his own before you saw them. ‘Do you think they’ll believe us when we tell them about the simulation?’

‘I mean, we’ll be alive. Surely that must be proof enough?’ You wondered. ‘Although, it almost doesn’t matter whether they believe us or not. We actually don’t need them to, we just need to hit that button.’

Jeno nodded.

‘You’re right. We need to focus on shutting it down and we can properly reunite and explain everything to them once we’ve woken up again.’

You hummed in agreement, your eyes shutting slightly as tiredness began to take over you.

---

Tomorrow had arrived.

You woke up to an empty room, Jeno fulfilling his promise and heading back to his once you had fallen asleep. You looked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the red numbers staring back at you.

9:37am

You were meeting the boys in Wooyoung’s room at 10am, as per I.N.’s request, meaning you had 20 minutes. You lay in bed for a short while, the thought of what you were preparing to do occupying your mind, before climbing out and heading towards the shower.

After a quick shower, you dried off and pulled on some more clothes. All the clothes supplied here were the same, tracksuit bottoms and a t shirt, the colours just varied every day. Today you had white bottoms and a white t shirt as well. You pulled them on before walking towards your door. You opened it, stepped into the hallway and began making your way to Wooyoung’s room.

---

By the time you arrived, the other boys were already there. There was a heavy silence in the air, it was clear that they’d been discussing something before you’d arrived.

‘What wrong?’ You asked, afraid of what they were about to tell you.

‘Dr Kim is in the pod room. He booked it last night and apparently won’t be leaving for the rest of the week.’ Jeno explained.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

‘Ok, that’s not good, not at all. Is Dr Kim-’

‘The one you overheard with Jeno? Yes.’ I.N. cut you off. ‘Look, we can’t waste any time. I say that, as soon as he leaves the room, we go in, lock the door, and get into that simulation.’

The three of you nodded in agreement.

‘I.N’s right.’ Wooyoung said. ‘We don’t have time to wait for an opening, we’re gonna need to create one. We can hear the door opening from here so, as long as we are near, we can make sure to take that gap.’

‘There’s something else.’ I.N. abruptly mentioned. You and the two other boys turning to look at him quizzically. ‘The three of you are going in alone.’

‘What? I.N. wait-’

‘No, let me explain.’ I.N. interrupted Wooyoung’s protest. You didn’t know how to feel, you had been prepared for all of you going in, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave him behind. ‘The three of you are going in alone because you have to. Firstly, in order to get into the simulation, someone else has to “authorise” it, for lack of a better word. You are going to be lying in a pod, and I’m going to “authorise” you going in. No matter what we try and do, one of us would always have to stay behind. And it has to be me. The three of you are much more suited for the challenge ahead, I’m just the brains of the operation. Plus, I’ve got to make sure that no one can follow you in or pull you out, therefore I need to stay here. Besides, from out here I can throw them off your scent, hack into the camera system to make sure that the cameras don’t follow you, and other things like that.’

He looked around at you, easily telling from your faces that you clearly weren’t okay with this development.

‘I.N. we need all four of us. We can do this if we’re together.’ Jeno pleaded, but I.N. simply shook his head.

‘You can do this alone.’

‘No I.N. we need you. Like you said you’re the brains of this and what if we come across a problem that you know how to solve but we don’t? You have to come with us.’ You begged him, but he didn’t change his opinion.

‘You have to trust me on this. You need to leave me behind.’

Wooyoung was the only one who hadn’t said anything, just staring at his friend sadly.

‘You know they’ll punish you for us going in right? You’re going to pay for the consequences of our actions.’ Wooyoung whispered, obviously scared for what would happen once you leave.

‘I know.’ I.N. replied, his voice quiet but surprisingly calm. ‘But that should buy you guys some time. And you’re going to need all the time you can get.’

The three of you nodded, finally understanding that, even if I.N. wanted to, he couldn’t join you in the simulation. He needed to protect you from the outside.

‘Just... promise me one favour?’ I.N. asked.

‘Anything.’ Wooyoung guaranteed.

‘Let them know that I’m okay. Especially Chan... please just make sure he’s not blaming himself.’ He whispered.

You felt yourself nodding. You couldn’t help but let your mind drift off to the boys who were in there, waiting for you. You thought of how Renjun had argued with you not to become a raider in the first place, claiming that he just wanted you to be safe. You thought of how Jaemin had only ever asked one thing of you, and that was for you to stay alive. You thought of how desperate San had been to stay with you when you had told him to leave you behind. And you thought of how Donghyuck had looked when you told him you were going on that final run. You thought of how you could see every part of him want to tell you “no”. You thought of how many times he had pulled you in for a hug and begged to stay with him. And you thought of how he had looked when he sat by your grave. They needed to know that you were okay. They needed to know that you didn’t blame them. They needed to know that you loved them.

The sound of a door opening and harsh footsteps treading down the hallway next to you interrupted your thoughts. The four of you froze, listening to the muttering voice of Dr Kim disappearing down the corridor as he muttered about being interrupted.

‘The room’s empty.’ I.N. stated.

Jeno stood up, quietly opening the door and checking that it was clear before turning back to the rest of you.

‘Let’s go.’

---

‘This better be important.’ Dr Kim stormed into his office. ‘I have other business to attend to.’

‘Sir, you’re going to want to see this.’

The head doctor, Dr Kim, turned his head towards the voice of his assistant. On their computer screen was a video, a video of your conversation from last night. Dr Kim leaned on the desk in front of him as he listened to the four of you talk.

‘Ok, so we’re all set for going back into the simulation.’

‘Yes. Let’s blow this thing up.’

Dr Kim took a deep breath as he tried to make sense of this development.

‘How did they find out?’ He asked, his voice quiet but the anger clear.

‘We don’t know.’ His assistant replied. ‘But they’re planning to head back into the simulation and shut it down. They’ve... they’ve found the kill switch.’

Dr Kim’s eyes shot to his assistant, who once again shrugged, answering the question he hadn’t yet asked.

‘Then the answer is simple. We need to stop them. Shut down the pod room, no one goes in and I want to be alerted if there is any attempt to override the system. And you-’ Dr Kim clicked at the bodyguard on his right side. ‘Let’s go pay our little heroes a visit. I think they’re in need of a few new memories, don’t you?’

---

You watched as I.N. shut the door tight behind him, making sure to twist the lock. He stopped briefly, taking a quick look around before beginning his instructions.

‘Ok, Wooyoung, go into that cupboard and grab the solution that’s there, y/n, find me a syringe and Jeno, go and open three of those pods.’

You all nodded, quickly scrambling to fulfil your orders. You were pulling open random drawers, desperately looking for a syringe for I.N. to use. You were on your seventh when you finally found it. You turned around triumphantly, holding it out for I.N. to take when the lights surrounding the door went red and a low electronic groan echoed out.

‘What was that?’ Jeno asked to no one in particular.

‘We don’t have time to wait around and find out.’ I.N. grabbed the syringe out of you hand while uttering those words. The tension was unbearable, all of you knowing that you had a very short amount of time before you were caught.

What none of you knew was that, you had already run out of time.

---

Dr Kim threw open Wooyoung’s door, a shout of frustration leaving his mouth as he found it empty. He had been to all of your rooms in an attempt to find you. He stormed into the corridor again, his eyes drifting to the pod room down the hall. He walked up towards the door, pressed his ear against the wood, and listened.

His guard behind him had a hand on his gun as he watched Dr Kim’s face transform into an expression of absolute rage.

‘They’re in there.’ He forced through gritted teeth. He turned around and looked at his guard before shouting. ‘Get this door open!’

The guard moved forwards immediately, putting the gun back in its holster and attempting to kick down the door. After a few tries he turned around.

‘It won’t budge. It needs to be opened from the control room.’ He informed the doctor in front of him.

Dr Kim let out a strangled scream and lunged forward to grab the radio off the guard’s waist. He lifted it up to his mouth and spoke into it, shouting instructions at the people in the control room.

‘I want the door to the pod room open right now!’

‘But Dr Kim, if that-’ A static voice came through from the other side, giving him some excuse as to why he needed to wait.

‘I don’t care! Open the door now!’ Dr Kim threw the radio back at the guard in front of him and watched as the lights around the door changed from a red to white, signalling that it was unlocked.

He threw the door open and burst into the room.

---

‘Get this door open!’

Dr Kim’s voice travelled through the door separating you and the four of you inside looked at each other in fear.

‘Jeno, quick! Come here.’ I.N. instructed, moving the syringe so that it was close to his neck. He had already given you and Wooyoung injections, only Jeno’s was left. He pulled the syringe out, ready to send you back into the simulation. ‘Go and lie in a pod and close the door on top of you.’

His voice was sharp and clear, not a single trace of fear in it, the only thing betraying him were his slightly shaking hands. You could hear a loud bang come from the door as you ran towards the closest pod. You turned back towards I.N. as a thought crossed your mind.

‘I.N.!’ You called out, only getting a hum in response. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

I.N. looked up at you for a split second, his expression conveying all he needed to say.

Now is not the time to ask questions but yes, what do you need?

‘Please, look after Hyuck’s sister for me? Make sure that she’s okay.’

I.N. nodded.

‘I promise.’

You felt a small amount of relief flow through you. You were leaving without speaking to her so you were glad to know that she would be protected. You quickly lay down in your open pod, pulled the door down over you, and, as the door clicked shut, you were encased in a pale blue light.

A few seconds passed before I.N’s voice came through.

‘Ok, I can’t seem to put you straight into the army base for some reason, the location is locked on here and I don’t have time to figure out how to hack it, but I’m going to drop you as close as I can. It’s in the nearby city and looks like it’s just under half a day’s walk away.’

You took a deep breath as you mentally pictured the maps you had drawn up. You knew you had planned some routes that went through nearby cities, you just weren’t sure which on you were going to be dropped in.

‘If I remember correctly from when we went in, you’re going to get very drowsy in a minute, just relax into it. Let the simulation take you okay? Don’t panic.’

He paused for a minute, leaving you in silence, your own breathing being the only thing you could hear. You could feel your eyes begin to relax and the tiredness swept through your veins. You could feel your heart rate begin to rise, all the memories from the simulation flooding back through your mind. Your father’s death, Jeno’s death, Donghyuck’s sister’s death, the first girl you killed. But you forced those pictures out of your mind. This time wasn’t going to be like that. You were prepared. You weren’t going in there to just fight for your life, you were going in there to save everyone. I.N.’s voice came back over the speakers, just as you lost consciousness completely.

‘Good luck.’

---

You opened your eyes.

You were surprised to find yourself standing up. You were stood in the middle of a road, clearly on an abandoned high street. The shops up and down the pavement were empty, some even having been looted. You turned to look around you, spotting Wooyoung and Jeno a little further down.

You took an experimental step, relieved when you didn’t go crashing to the ground, and took off in a jog. Both of the boys saw you moving towards them and came forwards to meet you halfway.

You came to a halt when you reached them, the three of you standing in silence.

‘Well...’ Wooyoung spoke, his eyes constantly darting around your surroundings. ‘We made it.’

‘Yeah, I guess we did.’ You mumbled, your eyes looking down at the ground. It was only when you did this, did you realise the clothes that you were wearing. ‘Oh my god! I’m in the clothes I died in.’ You realised, both Jeno and Wooyoung’s eyes darting to their bodies as well.

You recognised Jeno’s outfit from the final day at Mark, the sight of him running through the infested house on the monitors was not one that you would easily forget, and judging from Wooyoung’s shocked face, he was also wearing what he had been killed in.

‘Wow. Yeah, thankfully the clothes from just before we died. Cause, you know, there wouldn’t be much left of mine otherwise.’ Jeno’s shot a smile at the two of you.

You stared at him in disbelief, a laugh leaving you despite the circumstances.

‘Only you could joke about blowing yourself up like that.’ You chuckled.

But Wooyoung whirled around to stare at Jeno.

‘You blew yourself up?’ He asked, as Jeno nodded in confirmation.

‘Yeah, just pulled the pin on a grenade and ran into a group of zombies.’ He shrugged like it was no big deal, causing Wooyoung to stare at you.

‘It’s true.’ You informed him. ‘We were in the floor above. The blast knocked us off our feet.’ Your voice got quieter towards the end. Even though Jeno was very much alive, listening to the blast and coming down to the wreckage of Mark’s kitchen wasn’t an easy thing to forget.

Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder, sending you a comforting smile. You sent one back before turning to Wooyoung again.

‘But what about you? San told me all about your heroics, sacrificing yourself so that they could get into the army base.’ You grinned at him, watching as Wooyoung blushed slightly.

‘I’m not the only one though, who sacrificed myself for San am I?’ He asked, looking you directly in the eye.

Your smile shrunk slightly, leaving only a sad one on your lips.

‘We weren’t both making it out of that alive.’

You all fell into silence after you spoke those words, all replaying the scenes of your own deaths in your minds. It wasn’t something you ever expected to be haunted with, but here you were, stumbling back through this wasted version of the world, being stalked by your own ghost.

‘Let’s just get our weapons and move on?’ You suggested, breaking the tension as both boys nodded in agreement.

‘If I remember correctly...’ Wooyoung muttered, mainly to himself as he walked through a broken shop window. He disappeared for a while, making yours and Jeno’s hearts race in fear. You had forgotten the terror that came along with losing sight of someone for a few seconds in this climate.

His head popped up again, a childish smile on his face.

‘Found it.’ He informed you, even though neither you nor Jeno had any clue as to what “it” was.

‘You know,’ Wooyoung continued. ‘I.N. actually couldn’t have dropped us in a better place, I grew up around here and I know that the owner of this store was very paranoid about people stealing his things. So he had a secret compartment put in, and filled it with these.’

Wooyoung appeared over the top again, this time holding a gun in each hand. They were large guns, similar to the kind that you had used at Mark’s. He handed one to each of you and then grabbed one more for himself. He also pulled a box out that was filled with cases of spare bullets.

‘I thought we might need these too.’ He said as he unzipped a backpack on the floor, emptying the contents and filling it again with the cases of bullets and a few spare pistols. He also made sure to hand both you and Jeno a handgun.

‘How do you know all of this?’ Jeno asked, his eyes wide at the sight in front of him.

‘Hmmm? Oh I worked here part time. It paid quite well actually. He only ever took on three students a year so it was really competitive.’ Wooyoung replied.

‘So he told all his employees about this? How come no one else took these?’ You wondered aloud.

‘Oh no. He didn’t tell all of his employees. Only me.’ Wooyoung corrected you.

‘Well, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why you?’

Wooyoung looked up at Jeno’s question, diverting his eyes from the gun in front of him.

‘Simple. He liked me.’

Another large smile broke out across the boy’s face, one that made you smile with him, without realising it. Wooyoung was such a happy virus, someone who could make people happy or brighten their day without even trying. Your mind drifted to Donghyuck. The only boy who could make you smile even in the worst of circumstances. You missed him. You missed him so much that it physically hurt. It sometimes felt like he was the only thing keeping you going.

‘Right.’ Wooyoung’s voice cut through your train of thought. ‘Shall we go?’

You opened your mouth to answer but before you got a chance to, a low groan sounded through the high street. It was a noise that you hadn’t heard for a while, but nevertheless, still managed to send a chill of terror down your spine.

You turned slowly and made eye contact with the zombie staring at you through the broken store window.

---

‘Where are they?’ The Dr Kim bellowed as he burst into the camera room. ‘I want eyes on the three of them right now!’

All he got in response were frantic nods from the staff as they combed through every camera that they possibly could to find the four of you.

‘Doctor! I found them.’ A voice from the far left called out.

‘Put them up on the screen.’ Dr Kim instructed, watching as the main screen on the wall lit up with a picture of you all walking through the empty high street.

‘That street... I know that street.’ Dr Kim mused. He turned to the guard on his left and barked an instruction. ‘You, go to y/n’s room and grab the papers on her bed.’

The guard left immediately, running down the corridor.

‘Send a zombie their way.’

The staff nodded in response to his request and watched as you turned to look at the zombie now watching you through the window. Dr Kim focused as Wooyoung pulled the gun up and shot it through the head immediately, not wasting a second.

‘They’re not afraid to kill anymore. They know that they’ll only wake the person up. I want them out of there as soon as possible.’

‘Do you want us to organise for them to die? Or to pull their pods out?’ One of the crew asked.

‘No.’ Dr Kim muttered. ‘They know too much, and there’s no guarantee that they won’t figure it out again. Fake memories are hard to create and even harder to make last, our best chance was putting the two of them into a relationship. If that didn’t work before it’s not worth wasting the time and resources to try and do it again.’

‘So, what should we do doctor?’ The same person questioned.

‘There’s only one answer really, they can’t leave. We have to make sure they turn. Push forwards the mutation of the virus. What stage are we at currently?’

‘Stage 3 out of 5.’ Another voice appeared from somewhere in the room, Dr Kim didn’t know and didn’t care where.

‘Mutate it. I want stage 5. Enable the virus to be transmitted through insects. If they get bitten by an infected mosquito, I want them infected, if they eat a vegetable grown near infected bugs in the soil, I want the disease to travel to the food, if they smell a flower pollinated by a bee, I want that bee to be infected and I want the virus to transmit to them. Understand?’

He looked around at the staff behind him, all of them shouting agreement with his plan and turning towards their computers to put it into action.

The guard appeared again, holding out the papers towards Dr Kim. The doctor practically ripped them out of his hands, rolling them out on the table in front of him. He pointed to one drawing in particular.

‘Look, they’ve planned their route.’ He could now see exactly the journey you were planning to take to reach the army base. He checked the screen and saw the mutated virus already starting to have effects. He smiled and turned to the staff in front of him. ‘What do you say we send a few old friends to break up the party?’

---

Wooyoung reacted before either you or Jeno could, pulling the gun into position and shooting a bullet straight into the zombie’s forehead. You watched as its body hit the ground with a dull thud.

‘Jesus.’ Wooyoung breathed. ‘I forgot how terrifying seeing one of those was.’

Jeno turned around where he was and sent Wooyoung a nod.

‘Yeah me too, thanks.’

Wooyoung shrugged it off.

‘Probably better for them right? I mean, they’re gonna wake up now.’

‘Yeah, you’re right’ You piped up. ‘We can’t be afraid to pull the trigger anymore. We know nothing bad is going to happen so just, aim for the head so that it’s quick and doesn’t leave them in pain.’

Jeno and Wooyoung nodded slowly. As well as the three of you knew what was waiting for you on the outside of the simulation, and that dying here was nothing to be afraid of, it was still difficult to pull that trigger.

‘We seriously need to move, we don’t want to stop if we can help it.’ Wooyoung said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder.

Jeno turned to you expectantly, waiting to see what direction you were going in.

‘Ok, from the routes I created, we need to head West from here. Luckily for us, there’s an almost direct path from where we are now, to the army base.’

You pointed in the direction you needed to head as you spoke, Wooyoung nodding in agreement. Having someone around who knew these areas would be incredibly useful.

The three of you set off, your hands firmly on your weapons as you began your trek to the army base. You walked all the way down the high street, crossing the empty roads to take other paths. You ensured that you always took the largest street possible, not wanting to meet a group of zombies in a tight alleyway.

All the minutes seemed to blur into one as you walked. Your mind began to wander and you thought of I.N. You wondered if he had gotten into trouble when they had found him alone in the pod room. You were scared that they were going to wipe his memories again, but you were even more afraid that they were going to hurt him. You hoped that he had stayed true to his word and that he was looking after Donghyuck’s sister. You were praying that she would be okay.

The tall buildings gradually began to shrink as you left the centre of the town you were dropped in. Jeno was a few steps ahead of the rest of you and Wooyoung, naturally walking at a faster pace. The silence between the three of you was getting louder with every step when suddenly, the low groan that you had not missed in the slightest, cut through. Your heart sank, out of annoyance rather than fear.

That annoyance quickly evolved into fear when you recognised the zombie leading the silent pack walking towards you.

It was Hongjoon.

Someone who had run the army base when you were there. He had offered you support before and after every run, he had been there to listen anytime you needed to talk. You knew he was someone who could be trusted.

But here he was. In front of you, stumbling forward as though he had no idea who you were.

Wooyoung didn’t move, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to talk.

‘Hyung?’

Hongjoon’s eyes shot towards his younger friend, opening slightly wider for a second, as if in recognition, before they turned back to you, narrowed, and he shot forwards. He moved like lightening, you only had a second to shout out before you were on the ground, underneath Hongjoon who was biting at you with everything he had.

Wooyoung pulled his gun into position and aimed at his friend’s head. He could hear your shouts as you pushed against the infected boy with all your might, yet he didn’t pull the trigger.

‘Wooyoung, shoot!’ You screamed. ‘It’s not real! Shoot!’

A shot rang out and Hongjoon collapsed on top of you. You rolled him off you and on to the ground and looked up. It wasn’t Wooyoung who had fired, it was Jeno. Jeno grabbed you by the hand and pulled you up. He turned to shoot an accusing look at Wooyoung, preparing to say something, but he was interrupted by the rest of the crowd of zombies breaking out into a run behind you.

The three of you took off. You tried leading the boys on your planned route to the army base but more zombies just appeared from that direction.

‘How are there so many all of a sudden?’ Jeno asked in between breaths.

‘I don’t know!’ You said, frustration bubbling up inside you. ‘It’s almost as if they’re spawning here.’ Then a sudden realisation dawned on you. ‘The lab must have found our plans. They know our route, we have to find another way.’

Jeno’s eyes widened in desperation, the both of you wracking your brains in an attempt to think of an escape plan. You hadn’t noticed that in an attempt to escape the undead hoard chasing you, you had circled back and were heading back into the main city.

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s voice rang out.

‘I know a way. Follow me.’

He sped up as he ran back into the streets of the city he knew. You and Jeno both followed, piling on the extra speed in order to keep up. You turned a sharp corner a few seconds after Wooyoung and found him attempting to open a manhole cover. Jeno crouched down next to him to help and, together, they lifted the metal cover off. It was on hinges so it should be easy to close after you.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me.’ You groaned.

‘It’s either down here with a few rats, or out there with them.’ Wooyoung nodded in the direction of the zombies. Their footsteps getting dangerously loud.

You sighed, nodding in agreement. Wooyoung climbed in first and then Jeno held out a hand to offer you help.

‘No.’ You bluntly refused.

‘No? y/n I thought you said you were ok going in? We don’t have-’

‘Not that kind of no.’ You cut him off. ‘I’m going in, I’m just going in last.’

You could see Jeno was confused so you explained hurriedly, trying to keep your voice as steady and as hard as possible. But you didn’t quite manage to stop it form shaking.

‘The last time you offered to go last was at Mark’s and the next think I knew, I was watching you die. I don’t care if this is a simulation, I’m not risking it again.’

Jeno’s expression completely changed. He looked like he wanted to say something but Wooyoung voice travelled up from below before he could.

‘What the hell is taking you two so long? Don’t worry, I know these tunnels.’

Jeno swung his legs into the manhole, climbing down the ladder quickly. You waited until he was a few rungs down before lower yourself in too. You had just got your lower body in and you were reaching for the lid when the first zombie skidded around the corner. It let out a sort of yell, almost in triumph, and you slamming the cover shut over you. You bent yourself in half slightly, not being far enough down the ladder to close the top and stand up straight.

You thought that would be okay but the lid started to move up again and you got a glimpse of the zombie trying to open it.

‘Wooyoung! How do I shut this?’ You screamed down.

‘The wheel on the inside. Turn it!’ Wooyoung yelled back, the panic clear in his voice.

If you didn’t get this wheel locked it would be game over.

You tried to step down slightly, not being able to pull the door down with force at the angle you were standing. However, it was incredibly difficult as you had both your hands on the wheel above you. You placed another foot down, but this time you misjudged where the step was and slipped. You went down about two rungs, a yelp escaping you as you did so.

‘Y/n!’ Wooyoung screamed from the floor.

You felt a strong hand come up and grab the back of your thigh, steadying you.

‘You’re okay. Now, close it.’ Jeno’s words brought you right back down to earth and filled you with the strength you needed.

You gave the cover a powerful tug, yanking the wheel to the right as you did so. You kept both hands there, turning the wheel until you couldn’t physically turn it anymore. Eventually you stilled, your hands stopping their frantic movements.

You stood where you were, pausing just to catch your breath.

‘We’ve gotta keep moving.’ Wooyoung’s voice echoed up through the tunnel and you nodded.

You released the metal wheel above you, instead grabbing the ladder and lowering yourself down onto the floor.

‘Let’s go. I know a path into the woods, I’m pretty sure that it has an exit close to the army base.’

Wooyoung made to move off but Jeno’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the shoulder, stilling his movements.

‘Not so fast kiddo.’ He said, staring the shorter male down.

‘I’m older than you.’ Wooyoung muttered, his eyes facing the floor. Despite the fact that Wooyoung was older, it was obvious who had the power in this verbal exchange.

‘You didn’t take the shot.’ Jeno said, watching as Wooyoung swallowed. ‘You had a clear shot, you wouldn’t have hit y/n, but you didn’t take the shot. Instead you put her in danger, and in turn, endangering everything that we’re trying to do here. You know it’s not going harm them. Why didn’t you take the shot?’

‘I tried to. But he was still my friend. I was staring at the face of my friend. I know that he’s going to wake up, and that he’s probably better off dead than as one of those, but... I just didn’t think it would be that hard to pull the trigger. I’ve done it plenty of times. Hell, I even did it earlier today, but when I was looking into the eyes of someone I knew... I couldn’t do it.’

Jeno sighed deeply. You could tell that he understood where Wooyoung was coming from.

‘Ok.’ He said, Wooyoung looking up in shock at how fast Jeno moved on from it. ‘No one got hurt, and hopefully by taking this route we shouldn’t have to see anyone else.’

Wooyoung smiled thankfully, turning around and pointing down the tunnel.

‘It’s this way.’

And once again, you set off.

---

Your throat was dry, your legs ached and you were tired. You had been walking for hours and you were worried that it was going to be dark when you left the safety of these tunnels. Wooyoung wasn’t lying when he said that he knew them well, from the easy way he was guiding you through them, he had clearly spent a lot of time in them when he was younger. You had to admit that Wooyoung had made himself an invaluable member of your team. You really had no idea how you could have gotten this far without him.

As thankful as you were to everything Wooyoung had done so far, you had never loved him more than when he told you that you could stop walking. He approached the ladder in front of him, gently placing his hands on either side and whispering.

‘This is it.’

He climbed first, turning the wheel to unlock it at the top and wincing as it creaked loudly as he pushed it open. Wooyoung paused with it open slightly, listening for the tell tale noises of the undead, and then continued to open it completely.

You climbed out of the top, savouring the fresh air, pausing to listen for a guttural groan or ominous footsteps but, instead, you were greeted with a blissful silence.

Well, almost blissful.

‘Careful!’

A voice echoed through woods, a voice strangely familiar that caused both yours and Jeno’s head shoot up.

‘That sounded like Renjun.’ You whispered breathlessly, the thought of seeing your longest friend after what had felt like an eternity was almost alien to you.

‘I know. But it can’t have been him, he’s at the base.’ Jeno reasoned.

‘Jaemin, you ridiculously stupid moron.’ The voice appeared again, causing you and Jeno to share a smile.

‘No.’ Jeno’s eyes curved up into crescents. ‘That’s Renjun.’

‘Renjun!’ You shouted out, starting to jog towards where you had heard him before.

You didn’t get a reply, causing to you panic as an indescribable feeling of sadness took over you.

‘Renjun, it’s the grief. It can cause you to hear people when they’re not there.’

‘I’m not an idiot, San. I know my best friend’s voice.’

Your heart sped up again, warmth spreading throughout your entire body as you called out.

‘Renjun?’

This time you got a reply.

‘Y/n?’ You heard footsteps speed up, getting louder as they got closer to you. ‘Oh please be real, please be real, please be-’

Renjun turned into your line of vision, his words and movements stopping suddenly as he laid eyes on you. You smiled at him, tears starting to blur your vision.

‘Hi.’ You said.

That was all it took. Renjun threw himself forwards, pulling you in for the tightest hug you had ever felt in your life. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him back, feeling his tears begin to wet your neck.

‘You’re real. I knew it, you’re real.’

His words got lost in a haze of disbelief and shock at the sight of you standing in front of him, alive.

He pulled away, cupping your hands with his face, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He just stared at you, utter amazement gracing his features. Then, finally, a smile broke out. The largest smile you had ever seen. He wrapped his arms back around your waist, pulling you around in a circle as he screamed happily into the air.

‘I was right!’

It was at this moment that Jeno, Jaemin and San also found their way to where you were. You pulled away from Renjun, staring at the two boys behind him as Renjun’s eyes locked on to Jeno. You stroked Renjun’s face one last time as you moved away. Renjun hit Jeno at full force, hugging him tight and bursting into tears again. You didn’t move, looking only at Jaemin. He was staring back at you, clearly not knowing what to say.

So you smiled.

‘Miss me?’ You asked, watching as Jaemin’s face broke out into a smile matching yours and he laughed with glee as he ran towards you. He picked you up in a hug, his laughter never stopping. You couldn’t help but laugh back. He put you down, finally managing to get some words out.

‘Oh god I missed you so much. You’re alive!’

You nodded, the smile on your face was starting to hurt but you couldn’t make it smaller even if you wanted to. You pulled away from him after a short while, allowing him to greet Jeno and you were left facing San.

San didn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to stare at his feet.

‘San?’ You asked, hoping that he would at least look at you.

You could see the boy blinking rapidly, chewing on his bottom lip at the same time. Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked towards him and pulled him in for a hug. The second your hand made contact with his shoulder, San broke down, hugging you as tight as the others and whispering about how sorry he was.

‘Shhhhh, it wasn’t your fault. You did exactly what you should have done.’ You comforted him.

You pulled away sooner than you wanted to, but you knew he had to see Wooyoung.

‘I have a surprise for you.’ You said, smiling at him.

San sent you a teary but confused smile back, and you wordlessly grabbed his hand and turned him around.

Upon seeing Wooyoung, San moved faster than you had ever seen him move before. He shot towards the boy, Wooyoung moving forwards too as they reunited. Renjun appeared back at your shoulder, keeping an arm around you, as if to remind himself that you were really there.

‘I’m so happy you’re okay, but I have to ask, how?’

You shared a look with Jeno and called out to Wooyoung and San.

‘We’ll tell you on the way. It’s not an easy story.’

‘On the way? Wait where are you going?’ Jaemin asked, placing a hand on your chest to stop you moving.

‘Back to the army base.’ Jeno explained. ‘There’s something there that we need to do.’

Renjun and Jaemin shared a nervous look.

‘What’s happened?’ You asked, your hope diminishing by the second.

‘We’ve lost the army base.’ Renjun said bluntly. ‘People started turning from the inside, with no scratch, bite, or even contact with a zombie. It was as if it was in the air. Anyone who could abandoned the building immediately. Within under two hours it wasn’t safe anymore.’

‘Are you three the only ones who made it out?’ Wooyoung voiced the question you were too afraid to ask.

‘We don’t know.’ San chimed in. ‘The three of us left within a few seconds of each other. All we know is that we were the first out. If anyone got out after us, they can’t be far away.’

‘This isn’t part of the plan.’ You whispered, bringing your hand up to your head to rub your forehead.

‘What plan?’ Renjun asked, his eyes flickering between you and Jeno.

‘The plan. The plan that’s going to save us, to end this all.’ You rambled, not even fully sure of what you were saying.

‘End this all? Wait do you know how to stop the apocalypse?’ Jaemin asked.

‘There is no apocalypse!’ You exploded. ‘None of this is fucking real! It’s a damn simulation.’

‘A simulation...’ Renjun repeated.

‘Yes, a simulation. Aren’t the three of us proof enough that this can’t be real life. Jaemin, you shot me. In the head. How the fuck would I recover from that?’

Jaemin flinched at the reminder of your death. Jeno, noticing how your distressed state was unsettling others, tried to calm you down.

‘y/n, just breath for a minute ok?’

You whirled around.

‘No! Not okay. I’m so fucking done with this. How much hell have we been put through. I have killed people, and watched them been killed. I have lost friends, lost memories, left people behind, fought for my life and it still isn’t enough. When is this shit going to end? What more can they put me through?’

You turned towards the sky and screamed.

‘Fuck you! You hear that Dr Kim? Fuck you and your little experiment. I’m still finding a way to shut you down. Because you know what? I’m getting that happy ending. Cause after all the shit you’ve put me through, I fucking deserve it!’

You sat down, trying to catch your breath after your meltdown. You stared at the grass in front of you, ignoring the five sets of eyes watching your every move.

‘You went through something pretty rough on the outside didn’t you?’ Jaemin asked, assuming there was something more to your anger than what you had just learnt.

‘Yeah. It wasn’t easy.’ Jeno clarified. You were glad he didn’t go into more detail and even more glad that the boys didn’t ask for more.

You stood up, pulling your gun around to your front and took off.

‘Uhhh, y/n? Where are you going?’ Renjun asked.

‘To the army base.’ You declared. ‘I’m still shutting this thing down. Even if I had to do it alone.’

‘Who the hell said you were going to be doing it alone?’ Jeno’s words caused you to stop and turn around.

‘You’re coming with me?’

Jaemin shrugged, grabbing the pistol that Jeno offered him and beginning to walk towards you, the other boys all following.

‘Well, we started this together. Might as well end it that way to.’

---

The doors to the army base were open when you arrived. The wide gates were oddly unnerving, open gates were normally a symbol of welcoming, but this only reminded you of the gates to hell.

‘Remember, just get to the button and press it. That’s all we need to do so just focus on that.’ Jeno reminded you all. His voice was clear and steady, not a hint of fear in it. It was the voice of a true leader.

You stepped forward, ready to face whatever came at you.

---

You don’t know where it went so wrong.

Only you and Jeno were left alive and unbitten. The rest of you had been picked off one by one. They appeared out of nowhere, moved quickly and silently and were almost impossible to find. You had no idea what had made the zombies so dangerous all of a sudden. They had lost the slow paces of the previous kind, the fast bursts only maintained for a few seconds, and now had the agility of 20 year olds. It was as if they had retained the characteristics of the people they used to be. It was even harder to know that it was you friends picking you off just predators pick off the weakest member of the herd.

The two of you moved silently, aware of the moving shadows that signified the walking ghosts of your friends. You had only seen a few faces yet. You’d seen Chan, Changbin and Jongho as well as Mark and Chenle. It was seeing Mark and Chenle that was the most difficult, and in that minute you understood better than ever before, why Wooyoung couldn’t pull the trigger on Hongjoon.

A scream came from your left and you turned and blindly fired. You missed and watched as a figure you recognised to be Jaemin’s slunk back down the corridor.

You were only a few minutes away from the button, but at the pace you were moving, it would take you ages. You had to speed up. There was a door up ahead, one that was already open, as if it was awaiting the two of you. It only took one short shared look for the plan to be formed. You counted to three under your breath.

One

Two

Three

You threw yourself forwards, sprinting towards the open door as fast as you could, Jeno doing the same. Jeno reached the doorway before you did, and, as you cleared the distance, he slammed the door shut behind you.

You whirled around as you heard another loud bang on the door and saw Jeno pushing himself up against it to hold it in place. All of a sudden it made perfect sense as to why the door had been open.

It had no hinges.

The zombified bodies of your friends were pushing against it, clawing desperately to try and reach Jeno.

‘y/n, you have to go! Run now and find that button.’ Jeno’s voce was strained, all his energy being used to keep the door in place.

‘No, Jeno you have to go. You know the base better than I do.’ You reasoned.

‘Do you think I can go anywhere right now?’ He asked, pushing back on the door again as it began to budge. ‘Don’t be an idiot y/n, just go! I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.’

So you ran, you turned on your tail and sprinted down the hallway. You were pretty sure that you only had to get down this hallway, one set of stairs and one last door before you were at the button.

You were so close. Surely nothing could stop you now. All the zombies were upstairs, you had a free run.

You had just turned the second last corner of the corridor when you felt two hands grab your arm tightly and teeth quickly sank into the skin.

You let out a scream in pain, the zombie releasing your arm and stepping back from you, its work now done. You spun around and came face to face with the zombie who bit you.

Donghyuck.

Your heart stopped as you looked at the boy you loved. He stared back at you with no recognition, his eyes dull and his skin coloured with a sickening grey tine. You didn’t have time to mourn him. Your only hope was now getting to that button before you turned and forgot who you were. If you turned, all hope was lost and this would all have been for nothing. You knew from the last time you were bitten that you only had a few minutes, probably less if the doctors at the lab had mutated the virus. The pain in your upper arm was excruciating.

You stumbled forward, trying desperately to remember Jeno’s drawing of the army base layout. You turned a corner and came across a set of stairs, taking you down into the basement.

You took the first one, you vision starting to disappear as dark spots danced across the scene in front of you.

You took the fourth one. Focusing only on that button you had to do something with.

You landed at the bottom.

You stood there, not moving, confused beyond belief as to what you were doing. Why were you here? You had no reason to be at this level. You should be upstairs so that you could leave the base soon.

You turned around, away from the door in front of you. You looked up the stairs and saw Jeno. His eyes a cloudy white colour, and the veins across his arms and neck running black. Your eyes focused on a small black object behind him, however, something that was built into the wall, you had never noticed it before.

A camera.

You swung yourself around so that you were facing towards the door again. You knew what you were doing. You knew who you were. You knew what was behind that door.

You turned the handle, throwing yourself against it when it didn’t open. You banged the door with your shoulder, screaming in frustration when it refused to open.

You took a step back and lifted your foot. You kicked the door with all your force, relief flooding your system when it swung open. However, the momentum of the kick carried you through and you didn’t have the balance to keep yourself upright. You landed on your back, a sickening crack echoing off the walls as your head came in contact with the concrete floor.

You groaned in pain, recognising how your voice was sounding more and more like the undead’s. You summoned every bit of strength that you had and pulled yourself up so that you were on all fours.

You tucked your legs under you and pushed yourself up from the floor.

This was the room that Jeno was talking about. You vaguely registered a tunnel to the left, one that you assumed led out into the forest. And in front of you, only a few steps away, was an almost empty control panel with only one small button on it.

The entire room was spinning and your vision was getting darker by the second. You didn’t know if you had any strength left to continue forwards, holding on to the door to keep yourself upright. You head was pounding, your arm was throbbing and your heart was aching.

Your body was screaming at you with everything it had for you to stop, to give up, to rest. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give up now. Not when you were so close.

You stepped forwards. You thought of Renjun. The boy who had never left your side since the day he met you. He was fiercely loyal, always prepared to do everything he could to protect the ones he loved. To protect you.

You stepped again. You thought of Jaemin. The boy who had saved your life more times than you cared to admit. He had diligently watched over you, cared for you and loved you when you couldn’t do it yourself. He wouldn’t hesitate to keep going. To rescue you.

You stepped once more, collapsing on the counter in front of you, the button in sight. You thought of Jeno. The boy who had been through exactly what you had and was the only one to know the true pain of it. He had protected you from more than you knew and you knew he would never stop protecting you. To shield you.

You pulled yourself up, the button within your reach. You thought of Donghyuck. The boy who you loved more than anything else in this world. The boy who you would do anything for. He was sunshine personified, always finding any way he could to make you happy and always ready to fight anything that had made you sad. There wasn’t a thing that he would not do for you. He would volunteer to go through hell and back a million times without even thinking about it. To save you.

You threw yourself forwards, the last thing you saw being the button spinning with the room as your vision disappeared completely. You brought your hand down in a final attempt to hit the kill switch, your brain only managing to register one final sound as your legs gave out completely and you blacked out.

Click.

---

The dull pain at the back of your head was the first thing you noticed. You tried opening your eyes, but your eyelids felt so heavy it was impossible. You gave up, trying instead to listen to the movement around you. You managed to register a woman’s voice somewhere in the haze.

You tried again to open your eyes, this time succeeding slightly. This prompted the woman watching over you to call for a nurse. You couldn’t see the nurse through the blurred slit of vision you had, but she had a soothing voice, one that radiated comfort.

‘Don’t overwork yourself y/n. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. Just take your time and you’ll be able to wake up.’

You took a deep breath, relaxing your eyelids so that they were fully shut, and tried again. Finally, you managed to open them all the way. The room gradually came into focus, and you saw that you were lying on your bed in your room at the lab. You saw the nurse next to you and your eyes widened.

‘This place- it’s not safe. It’s not what you think. We need to-’

The nurse put a hand on your shoulder, pushing your body back into the bed.

‘Calm down y/n, it’s okay. We know. A Yang Jeong-In called and explained the situation to us. At first, we were skeptical, but we sent an investigation over anyway. We owe you a great deal y/n. You’ve saved a lot of people.’

She smiled at you as you fell back into the pillows.

‘I didn’t do it alone.’ You insisted. ‘Wait, how long have I been asleep? How long was I in the simulation for.’

The nurse chuckled.

‘Don’t worry sweetheart. You haven’t lost a year of your life. In fact, it’s only just been around 30 hours since you went back in. You saved us in a day.’

‘Wait... it worked? We did it?’ You whispered, not quite believing that it was finally over.

‘You did it y/n. You’re safe now. In fact, your friends are also all awake. When you’re ready, you can come and see them.’

The nurse smile at you as you nodded. You began to sit up, but fell back immediately when the pain in your head flared up again. The nurse grabbed a pill and some water from your bedside table and handed them to you.

‘Here, take this. You took a nasty fall in the simulation and your body is convinced that it has concussion. Now since it didn’t really happen, you don’t, but it may hurt for a short while. This should help.’

You nodded absentmindedly as she spoke, purely obsessed with the thought of seeing your friends again.

You attempted to sit up again, this time with much more ease.

‘Wow, that worked fast.’ You commented, causing a light laugh from the nurse at your side.

She gave you a supporting hand as you climbed out of bed and stood up. You walked shakily over to the door, leaning on the frame slightly for support as the nurse opened it.

You headed outside, amazed by what you were greeted with. There were police, detectives and special investigators all over the scene. Dr Kim was sat in the lobby when you passed, in handcuffs and being read his rights. He looked up as you walked by, and if looks could kill, you would have been a pile of ash on the floor. But they couldn’t. So instead, you paused, held eye contact for a second and smiled before moving on.

You were finished with that.

Your nurse led you to the room that you recognised as the test centre. It was where all your skills had been testing once you left the simulation the first time.

‘The room has been cleared out and turned into a relaxing space. At the moment, we’re just using if for your group. We thought that since you saved all of us you deserved your own area.’

The genuine smile on the nurse’s face made you laugh in happiness. She turned the handle and pushed the door open.

‘I’ll leave you be.’ She whispered from behind, pulling it shut gently as you walked it.

The sight in front of you brought tears to your eyes. Jeno and Jaemin were collapsed next to each other of a sofa, looking at something on a phone in front of them, Chenle and Jisung were attempting to teach Renjun a sort of clapping game, Chan and I.N. were standing in the far corner chatting with Mark and a few others and San and Wooyoung were laughing at something over a box of pizza.

But the best sight of all, was right in front of you.

There, sat on the floor, his little sister curled up in his lap as he peppered little kisses all over her face, was Donghyuck. Alive and happy. He held he close, treasuring the fact that he got to have her back. He laughed at something she said, the sound reaching your heart immediately and you realised just how much you had missed him.

Renjun noticed you first. He had given up on learning whatever game Chenle and Jisung were trying to teach him and turned around, coming face to face with your smiling figure.

‘Look who it is!’ He announced, easily gaining the attention of the rest of the room. They all turned around to look at you, smiles breaking across all of their faces as they did so. ‘Our saving grace.’

‘Lets hear it for our hero!’ Jeno called out, causing the room to erupt in cheers, screams and claps as you stood there slightly awkwardly.

You looked at Hyuck again, this time finding him staring right back at you. His sister moved off his lap, allowing him to stand. The entire room was watching as he made his way towards you. He didn’t break stride, instead choosing to pull you in towards him for a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pressed you against his chest. Your arms moved up by themselves, finding their place behind his neck and holding on for dear life.

The hug got tighter and more desperate the longer it went on, Donghyuck holding onto you as if you slip away if he let go. Little did he know, you weren’t going anywhere. He mumbled out a few words, you only just managing to catch them because of how his face was buried into your neck.

‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ You whispered back, relieved to finally be back with him.

‘Don’t you guys think that you two are slightly beyond hugging?’ Renjun’s voice interrupted your moment, causing you both to turn and stare at him incredulously. ‘Come on! If this experience has taught us anything, surely it’s that time is precious and we shouldn’t waste it dancing around our feelings.’

As much as you loved Renjun, you had never wanted to hit him more than you did at that moment. You wanted to talk to Hyuck about your feelings but not in front of everyone and, now that the reality of that conversation was dawning on you, you were nervous for it.

Hyuck, on the other hand, seemed to ponder Renjun words before turning back to you.

‘You know, he has a point.’ He mused a cheeky smile on his face.

‘Hmmm?’ You hummed, not sure where he was going with this.

Donghyuck simply took a small breath before pulling you in again. He used his hands, that were still resting on your waist, you pull you in closer, and then moved on up to cup your face as he leaned it. You had about half a second to understand what was happening before his lips were on yours.

Donghyuck kissed you.

Finally, after all these years and struggles, you finally got to kiss the boy you loved. You kissed him back, shyly at first but, as with the hug, the emotions grew. Before you knew it you were pouring all the love you had for the boy into your kiss, praying that he would be able to feel it.

When you finally pulled away you stared into his eyes. You ignored the cheers and shouts of “finally” coming from your friends, only focusing on the boy in front of you. He gently tilted his head forwards, so that his forehead was pressed to yours.

‘I love you.’ He whispered.

‘I love you too.’ You replied, your voice as quiet as his, but your words just as powerful.

---

After a couple of hours, you and Hyuck eventually excused yourself from the rest of your friends, choosing to instead go back to your room and spend some time alone together. Hyuck’s sister had headed back to her room earlier, leaving just the two of you wandering the halls side by side.

‘You know.’ Hyuck grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he talked. ‘i always knew that, if any of us was gonna save the world, it would be you.’

You blushed.

‘I didn’t save the world... Besides, I don’t know why I’m getting all the credit! Without everyone in that room, we wouldn’t have done it.’

‘I know.’ Hyuck giggled. ‘But you’re still the one who pressed that button. And according to Jeno, you’re the one who figured out the truth as well. Let me just compliment you! I like being able to say that my girlfriend saved the world.’

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

‘Girlfriend?’ You questioned, watching as Hyuck began to get flustered.

‘Uhhh- I mean... we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet but... hopefully?’ He questioned, looking shyly at you.

‘Sounds perfect.’ You grinned, squeezing his hand that was in yours.

And for a minute, all was right with the world. Until two words cause Donghyuck to freeze where he was, terror consuming him.

‘You bastard!’ Donghyuck’s father came storming up to the two of you. ‘What gives you the right to act that way? Thinking you can treat me like that? I don’t care if it was in a simulation, you’re going to pay for that.’

Donghyuck’s father lifted up a fist, in an attempt to hit him, but Hyuck was faster. He pushed on the opposite shoulder on his father’s body and stepped back, watching as the momentum of his father’s punch threw his body around in a full circle. Donghyuck pushed you behind him slightly, wanting to protect you.

This action did not go unnoticed by his father, who tilted his head to the side, observing how you gripped his arm and how Donghyuck was shielding you.

‘Ohhhh.’ He realised, a wicked smile taking over his features. ‘So the two of you fell in love.’ The smile dropped off him completely. ‘How sweet. Maybe, if Donghyuck refuses to face the consequences of his actions, someone else could take the punishment for him.’

‘Back off!’ Donghyuck barked, moving you properly behind him. ‘You don’t touch her.’

‘Protective are we?’ His father teased but Hyuck didn’t reply. ‘What would you do to protect her? How far would you go? Would you shout at me? Would you threaten me? Would you hit me?’

His father had been circling Donghyuck all this time, trying to find the right moment to pounce. Only when you arm appeared around Donghyuck’s waist did he make his move. He lashed out with a harsh punch to Donghyuck’s shoulder, causing the boy to fall to the floor, and grabbed you holding you by the wrist with one hand and around the neck with the other.

‘I’ll kill you!’ Donghyuck screamed, losing his mind at the thought of his father hurting yet another person he loved. He stood up, preparing to charge at his father.

‘Take one step closer and I’ll cut off her air supply.’ His dad’s voice was quiet, no more theatrics or teases, just a pure, cold-blooded threat. Then his voice changed again, back into the taunting manner it was previously. ‘Or maybe I’ll just do it now.’ He began to push down slightly, making you swallow out of discomfort. He gradually pushed down more, making it increasingly difficult for you to breathe. ‘Maybe that will finally get you to throw a punch.’

Down the end of the corridor you recognised the police uniform, meaning that Donghyuck’s father had run out of time. You swung your foot underneath you, taking him by surprise and effectively ruining his balance. Hyuck took his chance while his father was out of it and pulled you back into the safety on his arms. He stroked the hair out of your face.

‘Are you okay?’ He asked, concern and guilt prominent on his features.

‘I’m okay.’ You reassured, falling back into his embrace.

‘You bitch!’ Donghyuck’s father roared and he prepared to throw himself at the two of you again. But this time he was met with the police. One officer tackled him immediately, forcing him to the ground as another secured his arms behind his back with a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

You and Hyuck watched as he was arrested on suspicion of the murder of Donghyuck’s mother and multiple account of domestic, physical and verbal abuse. Just as he was being pulled up he look at Donghyuck one last time.

‘When will you be a man and learn how to throw a punch.’ He spat.

Hyuck stood up calmly, pulling you with him and keeping an arm around you at all times, but he never took his eyes off his father.

‘Being a man isn’t about being able to throw a punch. It’s about what you would take a punch for. I will never throw a punch, because I will never be like you. Goodbye father.’

You watched as Donghyuck’s father was dragged away in handcuffs. Only once he had disappeared around the corner did you turn to Hyuck.

‘I’m proud of you.’ You smiled slightly.

‘Thank you.’ Hyuck whispered, smiling back and placing a kiss on your forehead. ‘I have one favour to ask you though.’

‘Yeah?’ You looked up at him.

‘Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted.’ He said, watching as you burst into laughter at his mundane request.

‘Sure we can.’ You agreed, your body starting to agree with Hyuck.

---

You lay in your bed, your head on Donghyuck’s chest, his arms around you and your legs entwined. You’d been mindlessly chatting for the last few minutes but the conversation had since then drifted off into a comfortable silence.

‘I figured it out you know.’ Donghyuck informed you suddenly, causing you to look up at him from where you were laying.

‘What did you figure out?’ You asked, entertaining his antics.

‘That it wasn’t a real virus and that there were higher powers responsible for it. I figured it out first.’ His slightly smug yet still teasing voice brought a smile to your lips.

‘How did you do that?’ You were genuinely curious as to how he had come to this conclusion.

‘Remember? At the beginning, as soon as the virus broke out, I told you it was government created.’ Now the smugness was really coming through on his voice, showing how he was clearly enjoying this.

‘Go to sleep Hyuck.’ You chuckled.

‘I’m just saying.’ He whined, pulling his arms around you tighter.

You didn’t reply to that one, choosing instead to smile. You nuzzled further into Hyuck’s chest, relishing in the fact that you finally get to be close to him.

And that’s how you spent your first night of freedom. Curled up next to the boy you loved, with him whispering sweet nothings into your ear, all thoughts and dangers of the simulation far behind you.

Turns out you finally did get your happy ever after.

176 notes · View notes

justoneday-namjoonii · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Breathe | 3.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was told to get rid of everyone who witnessed the conversation between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month ago, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3.0 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: it’s literally been a long a** while, but it’s here💙 ps will edit later probably

“Okay, ma’am, can you explain to me how you found out she was missing one more time? I just want to verify that the report is consistent with what you told us previously.”

“Sure,” Suzy squirmed in her seat, feeling squeamish due to the busy police station. “I went to her apartment to check on her because her upcoming article was missing and she never forgets to log in her articles. She wasn’t answering my calls or texts, I got worried. When I knocked on her door, I didn’t get an answer, but that’s when I saw that the door was unlocked. I walked inside and everything looked normal but she wasn’t there, and her necklace was on the floor,”

Her mouth goes dry the more she recalls the emptiness of your home, the sheer horror she felt when she saw your most prized possession on the ground.

“She never goes anywhere without that necklace.”

“Alright ma’am, have you seen or heard from her on any social media in the last 24 hours?”

“No, I haven’t…”

She smiled. “Okay. Our officers will do everything they can to find her, alright? So don’t worry too much, she might’ve left her phone off or something, things like that happen all the time.” The woman laughed a bit, nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t talking about a human being who could be scared for her life.

“Alright, thank you…”

She left the station, heart heavy. And she couldn’t figure out why, but something about the woman’s words made her feel worse.

You woke up really early, around 4 or 5 in the morning, and you were trying so hard to quietly try to open the window but it was bolted shut. You tried the door, but even that was locked from the outside. After an hour or so, you gave up and went to sleep.

But you’re up now, and you’re trying to escape, again.

You screamed at the top of your lungs but you know you weren’t heard by a soul. He had cuffed you again while you were asleep and it was extra tight, you felt like your wrists were being crushed. You were furious. You were mad at that monster, the restraints, and the stupid bed he left you on. You started to think, how will I be able to escape? What did I do wrong? Is this really the life I have to live now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a wobbling doorknob and you freeze, watching it open slowly. It’s him of course.

“Why are you screaming?” He looks annoyed and you curl into the corner, brows furrowed.

“Why do you think?” You spat, yanking against the cuff instinctively as you have the strongest urge to scratch him.

“Listen,” He approaches the bed and you lean into the corner as he takes a seat on the edge, “I’m being very generous. I’ve given you food, left you in very humane living conditions...Do you want to go down to the basement like an animal? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to let me go.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” He stands to his feet and stares down at you, making you feel ten times smaller than you already did.

“We need to talk about some things. I have someone coming over, someone who wanted you dead and thinks you’re dead. So, if you want to stay alive, you need to listen. I’m going to put you in my room and you’re gonna stay there until he leaves.”

“Who- Who wants me dead?...” You stutter.

“My boss, he gave me the job. If he finds out I took a hostage in instead of selling you to him or killing you, he won’t be happy.” He takes in a breath and looks you over, your wrists are all bruised up. “Are you going to cooperate and walk to the room or do I have to drag you?”

“Take these ropes off my hands and you’ll find out.”

He shrugs. “Ok.”

You’re taken aback when he kneels on the bed and waits for you to turn your back towards him. Cautiously, you turn your back to him and he starts to loosen your binds. When you feel that your hands are free, you turn to sit on your butt and rub your wrists.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it...” It’s only now that you realize that he’s staring at you, and you make the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes are surprisingly soft and you hadn’t noticed it before, they’re captivating and you force yourself to look away.

“Come on, he’ll be here soon.” With that, he walks out of the room, assuming that you’ll follow him, you don’t.

He looks at you, waiting for you to realize that you’re being unnecessarily difficult. When you see the slight move towards you, you decide to get up and follow him. He takes you down the hall and after a few turns, he walks into a large bedroom, one that’s well kept and fresh-smelling. Once you’re both inside, he closes the door.

“If you get hungry, there’s a mini-fridge in the closet,” He points to the closet, “If he finds out you’re here, we’ll both be in trouble.” With that, he closes the door—funny how he doesn’t lock its door, assuming you won’t try to leave.

This isn’t the best idea, having the person who thinks you’re dead in the house with you. But there was no way he could say no to Minho, that’s his boss and it would look odd if he canceled. While waiting for his guest, he orders some food. He placed the order at his regular take out place and went to the kitchen to wait.

What am I doing? This is the most reckless decision he’s ever made. In an attempt to reason with himself, he blamed his change of heart on the fact that he met you—he should have never run into you. The rules are simple, don’t make contact with the target, don’t get attached, don’t watch them for too long or you will get attached. He did all of that, and now he’s finding out why those rules were made in the first place.

He hears a knock on the door and pushes those thoughts away.

When he lets his boss inside, any thoughts he had of you vanished and he became the person his boss knows him as. Emotionless, calm.

“I wanted to talk to you about your last job,” Minho takes a seat in his living room, in his usual seat in near the window—he always said the view was priceless and to let him know if he were ever willing to sell, “I heard from an informant at the police station that she was reported as missing, do you know anything about that,” He takes a sip of the tea Tae always gives him.

“No, I don’t,” He deadpans, taking a seat and turning the music down with a low command to the speaker, “the girl is gone.”

“They found a necklace at the scene, the woman who went to check on her, I think it was her boss or something, said she doesn’t go anywhere without it,” Minho relaxes, exhaling in thought, “it’s getting a little messy.”

“That comes with the job sometimes,” the doorbell rings and Tae is thankful for the speedy delivery, the growing tense air was beginning to suffocate him. After putting the portion he bought for you in the fridge, he brings the food to the living room.

“But she’s not a high-profile target, she’s a writer,” Yet, people are worried about your disappearance.

After a few minutes of sitting on his massive bed, you choose to disregard his instructions and crack the door to try to listen to what they were saying. Gosh, the food smelled good.

“What did you do with her?”

“You know I don’t like to tell, but she’s taken care of,” Taehyung opened up his food, “this will blow over eventually.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Not much I can do about that,”

Minho laughs, wondering why some useless girl would be the issue they have to face with a case as sensitive as this one. “You should have sold her to me, I’d make good use of her. And teach her a lesson on minding her own business, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have had to go back to the job. She was your first female and your youngest target yet, I went through your headcount file.”

“Yeah, she was around my age,”

“She was cute too, would’ve done well at House Lucia’s,” That dreaded place, “but I know you don’t like that place but it’s better than the other options.” Minho pulls a letter out of his suit and sits it on the coffee table.

“That’s your next job, Park’s gonna join you.”

Taehyung cringed, anyone but Park.

“Why Park?” He opens up the envelope and examines the case.

“He’s skilled with squeezing information out of people. Besides, it’s not an eliminate the target case. Go to the Gala, Park will handle the mistresses and you find the guy. Do you accept it? It’s a 75k payout.”

“Yeah, when is it?”

“Tonight,” Minho gets up, “he’ll be here tonight. Attire is formal and he’ll have your invitations. I enjoyed lunch, as always,” Tae walks him to the door and his boss goes to the backseat of the car that came for him.

“Same here,” He bids him goodbye and closes the door he breathing a sigh of relief.

“You can come out, I know you’re listening.”

Shoot.

You creep out of the hallway and stand at the banister, looking down at him.

“I bought you some food, you can eat it in my room,” He walks to the kitchen to get it out of the fridge and when he walks upstairs, you’re already back in his room.

You eye him as he enters the room, glancing at you when he sits the food on the end of the bed. He kneels down and suddenly he’s cuffing your ankles together, you frown, not responding fast enough to move

“Why are you-”

“I’m gonna let you stay in here while I work on some things, I don’t want you to run.” He stands to his feet and you sit on his bed, you wondered, how could he have known that you planned to run from him.

“I’m bringing you back to the basement tonight, so enjoy this while it lasts.”

It’s a Styrofoam plate, harmless enough. You hesitantly lift the lid to see white rice and other little sides, it looks good but you don’t want to eat it, not while he’s in here.

“How could I enjoy this? You have me chained up, how could anyone enjoy this...” You mumble.

“Eat.”

That’s all he says before sitting at his desk and turning on his desk top, ignoring you.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to miss out on getting food. If you’re going back to the basement, there’s no telling if he’ll forget you again.

So you eat, but you do it spitefully.

He scrolls through the hundreds of file his target database with the letter G until he finds the mans name. Gorka, Ulysses. The man is a big-time statesmen, he has his hands in a lot of underground stuff and it seems like the ex-wife did too, she’s the one who paid for job. He scoffs, the man probably has no idea she’s hiring people to end his entire empire—this is one of the interesting parts of his job, the research.

“Um,” You clear your throat and he looks back at you from writing something in his notebook, “I have to use the restroom...”

“Go ahead,” Pointing to his bathroom, he turns back and continues his writing.

You take small steps towards the his bathroom and you close the door behind you, locking it.

Even though he’s fine with the job, he’s never liked working with partners, disturbs his process a little bit. But he’s fine with being flexible, looks good on his resume.

When you finish washing your hands, you slowly open the bathroom door to see him looking through a drawer under his bed. It’s hard to see what he picked up, but you look a little harder and realize that it’s some of your clothes. You shudder, thinking of how he acquired your belongings when he took you from your house.

He looks back at you when you walk further into the room, your awkward search for somewhere to sit catching his attention.

“You’re in a better situation than you would have been,” He turns to you, hair dangling over his piercing eyes, “you’re lucky...”

You frown, unsure of where he’s going with that. How could you be lucky? Right before your big article, you get kidnapped and forced to live with your kidnapper. “Are you serious?...” You couldn’t believe what he just said. “How am I lucky?”

No response.

“Hey, did you hear me?” You raise your voice, standing to your feet. “This isn’t luck!”

Calmly, he eyes you.

“I want to go to the basement, put me in there.” Your request catches him off guard but he shrugs, turning back around as if you didn’t even say anything. “Fine, I’ll go myself...”

You try to walk to the door anyway, your shuffling not letting you leave as quick as you wanted to. Before you can even make it halfway, he’s closing the door with a slam and locking it.

“Get on the bed.” His eyes lock on yours like a predator to prey—you have goosebumps.

“But I just want to go back to the basement, I won’t run.” You’re frozen where you stand, trying to determine his temperament. “Just leave me down there-”

“What did I just say?” His tone firms as he slowly approaches you.

“But- But you’re gonna put me down there anyway- Ah!” You gasp when you’re shoved back first onto the bed, holding you down by your arms as he kneels one knee between your legs. Eyes wide and heart-pounding, you whine, words not leaving your mouth.

“Do you know how lucky you are that you’re here? Had you been assigned to someone else, do you have any idea where you’d be right now,” He leans down, limiting the proximity between your faces but you turn your face to the side, trying to push your face into the comforter below you, “you’re a target, you’re not being treated like a target and you need to realize that. Stop acting out.”

He let’s go of one of your arms in favor of turning your face to him. “Look at me.”

“No, no-” Tears stream down your face and your nose glows red, your sinuses responding to your weeping. You use your now free arm to try to push his chest, he shakes his head at your poor attempt.

He let’s go of your arm so he can snatch both your wrists and holds them to your abdomen with one hand.

“You’re gonna stay in this room until I take you downstairs. If you act like this when I try to grant you some freedom, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your breathing is shaky and you sniffle, eyes watery and wide. He wipes a tear from your eye with his knuckle and lets you go, walking back to his chair as if he didn’t just threaten your life.

Still in shock, you curl up on the bed and do the only thing you can do—you cry. He’s not phased by your fit at all, he continues to finish his work as your whimpers accompany his soft piano music on his Bluetooth speaker.

This is really happening.

Normally, you’d scold yourself for feeling sorry for yourself. You’d tell yourself that there are people who are suffering far more than you are—that you shouldn’t complain, you’re lucky. But you’ve never felt more unlucky, you’ve never felt more alone.

After a good two hours, he notices that your cries aren’t heard anymore and he looks at the bed, you had cried yourself to sleep. Poor thing, he thinks to himself. It’s about time for him to get ready to go, so you finally get your wish to return to the basement. He picks you up and walks you down the stairs, your out cold the whole walk.

He hopes you’ll find it more comfortable, he made you a fluffy safe haven on the corner of the large space. While you slept, he set up the plushy floor cushion that he ordered last night so you wouldn’t have to sleep on a padding-less mat. It was pretty expensive but he didn’t mind the price, it actually complimented the basement nicely. Laying you on the cushion, he un-cuffs your ankles. Instead of the small ones, he uses a long-chained cuff attached to the steel on the wall behind the cushion and hooks it to your wrist.

He covers you up with a fluffy blanket, caressing the side of your face when you snuggle against the cover, sighing in comfort.

Admittedly, he wishes you’d look that comfortable with him one day, sigh in his arms. In time, he hopes you’ll be able to realize that everything he’s doing is to spare your life.

He slips his gloves off, tossing them in the bin outside the lavish room in the wide-open halls of the mansion. After adjusting his suit jacket, he looks down at his watch, it’s getting late.

The party is still going on downstairs and now that the dirty work is done, he needs to find Park Jimin. A short walk past the many bedrooms and just when he thinks he should go look downstairs, he hears a giggling female. That means Jimin isn’t far. He approaches what looks like a powder room.

When he slowly opens the door he immediately turns his head, rolling his eyes, such class.

He takes out his phone and calls him, hoping that’ll get him to hurry up. With that, he takes a walk to the stairs and not long after, Jimin is fumbling out of the room, hair disheveled.

Our little secret, remember? Taehyung nearly throws up when he hears him say that to the woman who’s at least ten years older than him. He looks back at his temporary partner, watching as he zips his fly with the utmost class if that were possible.

“Hey, I got a little sidetrack, but I have what I need,” He walks beside him, a red glow on his cheeks, “you?”

“Of course.” Tae shrugs, “We should head out.”

“Already?” Jimin scoffs. “You’re no fun, Kim.”

Shaking his head, the two of them leave the party swiftly, Jimin’s Lambo growling in the night as Taehyung sits restless, he left you too long. He wonders if Jimin can pick up on his eagerness to get home, he’s sure it’s not that detectable. These jobs were never his thing, alcohol, too many people, too many distractions.

When Jimin drops him off but asks to come in so he can use the restroom.

“Down the hall, to your right.” Taehyung points, taking off his suit jacket and tossing it on the couch. For the life of him, he hopes you don’t start screaming, the last thing he needs is for Jimin to find out that you’re here.

It's painstakingly long few minutes before he breathes in relief, Jimin is walking down the hall, wiping his hands.

“It was a pleasure Taehyung, as always,” He leaves out of the front door with a wave.

Locking the door with the app on his phone, he waits for a few minutes. Just long enough to know Jimin had pulled out of the hallway and is halfway down the road.

Quickly, he goes to the kitchen to get you a snack and some water. He puts it on a plate and goes to the basement door, he presses his ear against the door to see if he could hear you moving around. Sniffling, he hears your sniffling and his heart drops a little bit.

He opens the door, the sound of his footsteps prompts you to wipe your face, he doesn’t get to see me cry again, that’s what you told yourself. You stare at him as he walks down the stairs, he’s wearing a dress shirt and dress pants. The dark blue silk shirt is rolled up to his elbows and a little unbuttoned, you assume he went somewhere fancy.

“Are you hungry?”

You shake your head no, not looking him the eyes.

“Well, I’ll leave it, just in case you change your mind,” He sits it on the cushion right beside you. For a moment, he stares at you for a bit longer than what most would deem comfortable.

“I bought this for you,” He’s referring to the cushion he so kindly chained you to, “hopefully you’ll sleep better.” Still refusing to give him eye contact, you bite at your lip anxiously, why won’t he just leave you alone?

He lightly touches your hand and you flinch away, a panicked glint in your eyes as you press yourself to the back of the cushion to be as far from his as possible. He backs away from you, a little confused.

“Hey, it’s okay,” He furrows his brows, eyes landing on your wrists, still bruised from your previous attempts to get away, “You need something on those bruises, I have a salve that’ll help,” He stands from his kneeling position.

“I’ll be back,” With that, he retreats upstairs.

As soon as the door closes, you wait a few seconds but eventually, you reach for the water and take a small sip. For all you know, he could have put something in the water, but you choose not to care.

It’s not long before he’s open the door, skipping down the stairs in sweats and a t-shirt, the salve in his hands, and what looks like cloth bandage.

“You drank some water, that’s good,” He’s scarily observant. Naturally, as if he had done it a thousand times, he reaches for your arm but you don’t shy away. What he had said to you early today comes to your mind so you decide not to give him any reason to fulfill the threats.

Sitting on the cushion beside you, he brings one of your wrists to his lap. You watch him gather some of the salves on his fingers before gently applying it to your skin. He does the same thing to the one hand he has chained and then wraps them in the soft cloth, careful not to make it to tight. When he closes up the jar, you bring your hands to yourself and you look at him, his face illuminated by the dim lights.

“I’ve never done this before,” He speaks suddenly, “I don’t know if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t...” You mutter, staring down at the metal circle on your wrist.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, but everything I’ve done, it’s not what you think.” He turns to you, causing you to look away once again. “You’re a good person, it’s nothing you did.”

“Then let me leave,” You swallow, “I- I promise, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go home, my family will be devastated when if they find out. I heard that guy you were talking to, someone reported me as a missing person, that means someone is looking for me... ”

He sighs. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You don’t seem like a bad person. If something in you is telling you to let me go, why don’t you listen to it?” You quietly plead, hoping your desperate tone affected him in some way.

“If they find out that I let you go, if my boss finds out that you’re still alive-...I can’t let that happen, you know too much, he’ll kill you.”

“The article is destroyed, so the guy who wanted it gone has nothing to worry about, I don’t understand why I even matter...”

“You just do. You can’t bargain with me about this. If there was a way for me to let you free without anything bad happening to me or you, I’d do it, but there’s not...” He pushes his hair back, brows furrowed in what seems to be distress.

He sighs, “I’ve never been assigned someone so young, you’re so close to my age. And I probably could’ve completed the job, but when I met you, and I looked in your eyes...” His words trail off and he stands up. “I couldn’t do it.”

“I feel like I’m being punished...” You look away, hands finicky, “I don’t feel like I’m being saved or protected, do you have any idea how afraid I am of you? You’re a stranger who’s saying all the things that I don’t know anything about, and you’re keeping me locked up in a basement. What you’re doing to me, it’s wrong...”

He suddenly gets on his knees and kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his despite your efforts to pull away.

“I hope you’ll understand that this is the only way like I said...You might eventually learn to like me, but you don’t have to,” He looks up at you, his doe eyes looking incredibly sincere, very different from how you’ve been seeing him, “and I won’t make you.”

You bite your bottom lip, “I don’t want to be here...”

Suddenly, he reaches a hand up and cups the back of your head. “it’ll be okay,” The size of his hand is now brought to your realization when his finger grazes your ear. He presses his forehead to yours and your eyes squeeze shut a the contact. When you feel your nose almost touch his, you instinctively jerk back and your hand responds on its own accord.

The sound of skin bluntly meeting skin is heard and you’re cowering back, immediately regretting your innate response. He lifts his hand to his now reddened cheek, he didn’t expect it to hurt so bad—you’re stronger than you look.

“Don’t- I just- Were you trying to kiss me?...” You stammer, a frown on your face. When you don’t fully elaborate, you settle on your own conclusion that he knows what you’re trying to say. He looks up at you finally, now standing tall above you.

He grabs your wrist, tugging you forward. It hurts a little but you stay silent, “This is why I like you, Y/n, that fiery spirit,” He suddenly drops your hand, seeming as if he decided not to physically respond. His response leaves you speechless, it’s not what you expected, “keep it up, you’re tempting me...”

With that, he leaves the basement and flicks off the light. “Goodnight,”

After staring at the door for a good minute, you decide it’s safe enough for you to lay down. You’re not sure how to feel about him right now. But for some reason, fear and apprehension aren’t as intense as before. And you might be wrong, but he sounded like he was convicted about doing all of this to you. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel like you could trust him, it’s hard to tell. But if there’s one thing for sure, something in your gut tells you that he’s not bad, he’s not the monster that you thought he was...

“She’s missing, her supervisor called me, said I was on her old emergency contact list,” He holds his phone between his shoulder and ear, not in a million years did he think he’d be calling his ex-girlfriend's mother with information like this, “don’t worry too much, I’ll try to get in contact with her.”

It’s been a few weeks since you two have talked, so when Suzy called him, his heart just dropped. Even after your break-up, almost a year ago, you two considered yourselves friends. The two years you shared together were great. You were thriving in your career, he finishing Med-school so he could begin his residency. Many nights were spent with you staying late at the office, or him pressing for finals—your lives just weren’t merging. That’s when you both decided you were better off as friends. But you still have platonic love for each other

“Dr. Kim, I switched shifts with Katelyn,” Sara, the new medical assistant at the clinic peeked on through the open office door, ”I’ll make sure she gets those messages,”

He nods, getting his keys so he can head out too. When he leaves, getting his car, he decides to shoot you a text, hoping you might respond.

Jin: Hey love, I know it’s been awhile, hope you’re doing okay. I got a call from your supervisor this morning, apparently I was still on your emergency contact list at work. She said she went to your house and you were’t there. She waited 24 hours and you still hadn’t shown up to work , contacted anybody. She went to the police station, reported you as missing. If you’re okay, please contact me or anyone, I’m a little worried

Taehyung lies in his bed, not bothering to slide under the sheets, his skin is warm to-touch. His cheek still stings, the feeling brings the image of your face to his mind, and he feels remorse. Never in all his years alone, did he think he’d long for someone's company, someone's gaze meeting his. This penthouse has always been a bit lonely, all this money and space, it can’t take the form of a person. A companion.

He feels guilty. He doesn’t have the right to think of your face, your eyes, your gentle hands that can inflict such pain, your spirit, what right does he have to grow so fond of those things. He’s never kidnapped anyone, especially not someone he was supposed to have killed months ago. But he did it to you, to the one he missed, in the words of his boss. The guild’s warnings prove to have been true all along. Don’t keep a target as a hostage, don’t get attached—it’s happening. He’s starting to want to get to know you, to get you to smile for him, at least once—it’s damn selfish, he hates himself for it.

When he hears a buzz coming from the drawer of his nightstand. He sits up, confused for a moment until he opens it up, realizing he had put your phone in there. He picks up the phone and presses on the message. He reads the message, eyes narrowing at the endearing term he used. Curious, he unlocks your phones and goes through your text vigorously, searching for what he hoped wasn’t there. As he goes to your past old messages from months ago, he sees I love yous, I miss yous, dinner at 7 my place? Then the texts become less frequent, the tender tone is no more and there’s apologizing on both ends. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this guy is your ex, now he’s on the list of people who are worried about you.

He drops your phone back in the drawer. There’s no way anyone could find you yet, he’s nervous. This is getting too close, and at this point, he shouldn’t, but he wants you closer.

279 notes · View notes

that-good-trash · 4 years ago

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I’m Not Okay- Chapter 4 Midoriya x reader/ Bakugou x reader

Izuku Midoriya x reader/ Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You have struggled with mental health your whole life so why can’t you seem to get it under control. Will you be able to keep the same mask even though two of your classmates have seen under it?

Warnings: Depression, Mentions of suicide/ Attempt at suicide, Angst, Anxiety,

Word count: 4,336

Comment: Thank you all for reading this series, I have two different endings I’ll be posting after this chapter. One will be for Bakugou, One for Midoriya. I’ve enjoyed writing this and I am so happy that so many like it.

Once again you matter and any issues you have are valid!

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You remember once, when you were little, watching a hero on TV save the day. What hero it was didn’t matter to you at the time. All you saw was this person risk their life to save someone else. You watched the emotions that passed over the citizens face, the relief and security they found after being rescued. You remember thinking that you wanted to save people. You wanted to be someone’s reason for feeling safe, a stable beacon of hope and strength. Oh, how foolish you were. Really a child with dreams too big for her bleak future.

A little girl with a quirk better suited for someone with confidence, for someone who truly believed they could save the world. You remember the excitement when it manifested. You ran around telling everyone you were gonna be a hero. There was no idol for you, you didn’t need to be like All Might. You just wanted to help people and with this quirk you were gonna do it. Other kids wanted to be hero’s for fame or power but you didn’t need any of that. You just wanted to make a difference in someone’s life. As you grew the dream was the same but the reason started to change. You wanted to make a difference in your own life, you wanted self-worth and thought being a hero could give you it. Selfish, that is what you thought you had become. How could you have gotten so lost? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to save people you just wanted someone to save you.

As you grew up each year brought on more and more emotional issues. You were convinced that you had brain damage or were dying of some brain eating bacteria. You weren’t completely wrong, you had issues, mental issues. The first time you had gone to therapy you were six. You stopped getting along with other kids, stopped playing with toys, stopped being a child. Your family was worried, what could have happened that you lost all desire for life. A little kid not wanting to be a little kid was a strange concept. After therapy and some medication, you were back to being a child, running around and playing hero. You were ten when you watched the people around you go about their days like you didn’t exist. You found out the hard way that the world doesn’t stop when you are depressed. Still a child you had to realize that if you were gone the people around you would go on and eventually forget about you. You couldn’t understand this feeling of anxiety. You tried harder and harder to be noticed in the hopes that if you did disappear or die people wouldn’t be able to forget you. This plan back fired. Your family members, friends, and teachers started getting irritated with you. Your parents yelled at you to behave, your teachers scolded you about being loud, and your friends pushed you away not liking this version of you. Eventually you were secluded, an outcast. You were afraid of being alone so you cried. Crying became a norm for you. You did it in public until the judgement started. People didn’t feel bad anymore, instead they claimed manipulation just like Uraraka had. Crying eventually became a taboo thing you did behind closed doors. You learned how to sob silently, how to scream without being heard. That ten-year-old girl was aware of how painful life was and yet you hadn’t even felt true pain yet.

As you aged beyond ten the headaches started, the voices told you horrible things, your smile had faded out of existence, and you constantly felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your therapy was pointless because no one knew why you were like this. It was trial and error. You’d be fine one minute and then you would have scratches up your arms and hollowed out eyes. You’d look like you hadn’t slept for weeks which was true. You couldn’t sleep because your thoughts were worse at night. When you tried napping during the day you were called lazy, told that you were slacking. How could you be a hero if you slept instead of trained and studied. Your parents meant well when they pushed you toward your goal. They just didn’t know the real you. The you behind chipping paint. You felt like an abandoned building left for the earth to take back. Your words were vines burying walls of concrete. The worse things got, the more you painted portraits and placed them in front of you. People admired your work, telling you how happy you looked, how hard you were trying. You were a success story but what was success when you were miserable and a step away from falling into a pit of despair.

One day things changed and for the first time in a long time you felt normal. You felt excited and happy, you looked forward to waking up. What happened to change you? You were accepted into UA. You had tried harder than you thought possible. Tears, blood, sweat, and a lot of profanity was released from your body on your journey to be a hero. All Might telling you in a holograph that you were good enough made you feel like maybe you were. You hadn’t smiled in a school photo until the day you received your school ID. There you were with a toothy grin staring directly at the camera as if to say ‘I did it’. That should have been the moment your life took a turn for the better. You should have been on an escalator going up and you were for the first year. Even after the attack on USJ, after the training camp kidnapping, after everything with overhaul you still fought with no doubts. You smiled even when you cried with your classmates. You had participated and enjoyed their company. Things had gone so smoothly for a while. However, mental health issues don’t magically go away. One day feeling mentally exhausted turned to two days feeling useless and massive fatigue turned to ten days of sharp chest pain, uncontrolled emotional breakdowns, and drowning in self-loathing. That most fucked up part was you were dealing with it all alone. You couldn’t tell your parents what was happening. What would they say? They would think you were pathetic, not cut out to be a hero. But were they wrong? Did someone who constantly wished negative things on themselves have the right to be here. You found that you questioned yourself over everything. You wondered why you even tried if you were a failure. Why did you eat while others went hungry stressing over classes while you suffered academically on your own terms? Why drink water when you hadn’t put in enough effort to prove you deserved it. The thing that never changed was wanting to save people. You would die if it meant saving just one person. You wanted to change lives not ruin them. You wanted people to smile not scream and cry. You wanted to do so much more for people but had no energy left to try. Your flame had burnt out and you were running on what little smoke it still produced.

Like a steam engine your legs moved you up the dark staircase. Your fingers ran along the cold railing feeling every nick or chip. You wondered if someone touched you if they would feel the broken pieces. Could you cut someone with your shattered mask, with your fractured mental state. Was there a doctor, a quirk specialist, a magician, any person that could put you back together? all the kings’ horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put poor Y/n back together again. Or at least that’s what was going through your mind as the roof door opened with a swift kick that jolted pain through your leg at the heavy metal it was made of. You were so close to the edge. No one could stop you; no one could help you. No hero was waiting and you weren’t feeling heroic enough to try and stop this. All you could think was how you were just a few steps away. You had failed everything else. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t fail this.

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You don’t have to remove your shoes since you aren’t wearing any. The roof is much windier than you expected. You jump slightly when the roof door slams from the force of the wind closing it. Your hair is reacting to the wind, trying to blow with it, which would normally bother you but you don’t care about something so trivial. You rub your arms from the slight chill the height and wind brought. Not much longer and you won’t have to worry about the cold, or anything for that matter. You close your eye tilting your head upward toward the vast sky. When you open them, you can barely make out the stars because your vision is warped. It’s like you’re watching the night sky as you sink deep under water. The tears that slide down your cheeks make you angry. Why were you crying when you chose this? You chose to climb the stairs and there was no turning around now. The large metal door wasn’t going to be the way in which you would be leaving. Your legs grow shaky as they move you closer and closer to the fencing. You push your hand against the fencing letting your fingers slip through the diamond patterning of thick metal wiring. This wasn’t going to stop you. Not when you climbed all those stairs and broke open a heavily locked door. You activate your quirk using the blades that appeared on your finger tips to cut the obstacle away. Your quirk allowed you to create blades on your body, they could range from small swiss army knives to sharp saw-like weaponry. A cool useful quirk wasted on a useless fuckup. Once there was a large enough hole in the fence you deactivated your quirk before tossing the damaged property aside. There was a little room between the outside of the fence and the lifted concrete ledge. Just enough room for you to move along the ledge trying to find a good spot. You ran your fingers against the cold stone feeling fragments of cement crumble away. You stopped after finding the perfect spot. You could see city lights in the distance and when you turned you could see the buildings you had run from. The rows of large dormitory building. Some lights were still on and you smiled wondering what these strangers were doing. Maybe some friends were staying up talking about nothing important just enjoying each other’s company. Maybe someone got hungry or needed to finish an assignment. The thing you truly hoped was that none of these lights were coming from a room where someone laid crying wishing for death as you had done for so long.

“Please don’t cry!” Your voice is carried by the wind and disappears into the darkness. You wipe at your eyes because you are yelling to no one but maybe you were yelling to one of those lights. Maybe you wanted anyone hurting to hear you, to feel that you cared. That you believed that they could get better, as a true hypocrite would.

“It’s okay to hurt!” The words weren’t yelled at max volume because your throat was tightening from holding back sobs. You were suffocating on them as you leaned your body over the ledge gripping it for dear life. This time no words came out but instead a scream. A scream that mimicked that of an injured animal, or someone who had witnessed everything they love be destroyed. You screamed until you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore, till your throat was raw. Your nails dug into your neck, palms pushing against your throat begging for your lung to work. Your body was breaking down and you could feel adrenaline pulsing through your veins. The word ‘breathe’ a mantra pounding in your skull. Maybe this is what you deserved for trying to preach something you didn’t practice, something you didn’t believe for yourself.

“I… I JUST WANT IT TO STOP!” There were rivers of sorrow moving like ghastly rapids down your flushed face. Snot dripped out your nose and you gave up wiping it away. You were ugly right now and that didn’t matter. No one was here to see you like this anyway. That was a good thing. You wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of judgement you’d receive from this nauseating display. “Please make it stop.”

Your grip on the stone wall tightened as you finally pulled yourself onto it. The edge crumbled slightly causing you to feel the smallest bit of apprehension. Why were you scared? Why the hell did you keep questioning yourself? The more questions that you asked yourself the more doubt arose, it was creating hesitancy. You were standing literally on the edge, there was no room for indecision. Eyes closing you think, think about everything that lead you here. The quiet disappointment of your parents, the withdrawn behavior that pushed your friends away, the pain of waking up. The bad wasn’t all you thought about, you thought about the good times. The way your parents cried and held you with worry after the USJ attack, the proud cheering for you at the sports festival even though you lost, and how they always text you to remind you that they love you. They supported you, loved you, and yet you just couldn’t use that as an excuse to feel better. You were still missing pieces of yourself, no matter how much love you received you still hated yourself which made their love feel invalid, undeserved. There were good times with your friends as well. The first day of school was the most terrifying and yet best day. You remember Bakugou getting scolded by Iida, you remember the way Midoriya’s eyes sparkled when learning people’s quirks, and you loved the anxiousness and thrill you felt holding onto that ball. You didn’t even know if you could match everyone else’s throws but that didn’t matter, what mattered was that you were even there amongst such amazing people. The time you spent with Mina was the most important, she was the first friend you made that truly loved and cared about you no matter what mood you were in. The first time you ignored her she gave you space but still checked in on you. She still told you jokes and complimented you. It hurt at first but then you realized that no matter what happened she’d be there for you. She made school easier for you. Other people soon approached you and you had become a part of different groups. Kirishima always invited you to train, Kaminari always tried to make you laugh and flirted playfully with you every time you seemed down. Every time you were lost in bad thoughts, when your body was amongst friends but your mind was in a dark place, Sero would tape Kaminari to the wall. You’d laugh, really laugh no matter how many times he did it. There were so many moments and memories you had shared with your classmates. What a shame they’d go to waste.

“I’m so sorry.” The words came out dejected. No fight left, no more energy. You were tired and ready. Oh god you were so ready for this to all stop. The slightest giggle broke the silence with as much pain the screams had. “I’m sorry.”

Your parents flashed through your mind followed by your friends. Regrets disappearing from your body as you inched closer to freedom. Midoriya would cry, he always cried. You didn’t want him to cry, sitting in that teacher’s lounge waiting for you knowing that you wouldn’t ever return. With you gone he could have friends, enjoy life without your negative energy. He could hold Uraraka close while you faded from existence. Bakugou wouldn’t show his emotions, he was really good at hiding any emotion that wasn’t anger. However, you knew he would be sad. You knew that he had blamed himself for All Might’s retirement. He would blame himself which scared you. This had nothing to do with him failing to save you. This had everything to do with failing to save yourself. You wondered if he would still make too much food out of habit and have to throw it away. Would he train harder as a distraction, potentially overwork himself? One final heartbreaking question passed your mind. Would Mina still smile, would you take her sunshine when you left?

One step and the world seemed to move in slow motion then all at once. The sky was beautiful as you turned to fall backwards. You didn’t want to see the ground. Just the gorgeous vastness of space. You fell with grace. Like an angel falling from heaven, like a shooting star, like someone who had nothing left to live for. Darkness surrounded you as your conscience was lost, as you plummeted toward the ground.

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

Bakugou and Midoriya collided as they rushed into the broken school doorway. The panic in each other’s eyes evident as they shared a look. Usually they were rivals but, in this moment, they wanted the same thing and it didn’t matter who got there first, what mattered was that they got there. Got to you. Finally sharing the same goal, they moved as a unit toward the staircase. How long did it take you to climb these stairs? Were your legs as heavy as your heart? Midoriya wanted to find you sitting on the stairs crying. Bakugou wanted to open the door and find you on the other side about to head back down because you couldn’t do it. As they ran, they both wished they could have done more but there was only so much they could have done. Bakugou wanted to go back in time and fought the people and situations that made you feel this way. Midoriya would have held your hand, dried you tears, reminded you every moment that you mattered. They will do these things if they stop you, after they stop you. Fear drove them up the stairs faster. The temperature getting hotter and hotter as Bakugou activated his quirk to move faster. The dark walls of the stairwell illuminate as Midoriya uses one for all to boost his legs further, skipping a copious number of stairs at a time. Passing a window, they hear you, the words you yelled to those distant lights, ‘please don’t cry’ ’it’s okay to hurt’ it was as if you were giving the validation you wish you had. The words were heartbreaking enough but the added tone intensified them, the broken scream that followed just about destroyed the boys. By the time they reached the halfway point you had begged for this to stop. Your words were like knives digging into their hearts, chests, and minds. How could you have felt this much pain and no one ever notice? What kind of heroes were they if they couldn’t save you? Though the most important thing for heroes to remember is that they can’t save everyone. Right now, they didn’t care if they couldn’t save anyone else, they just wanted to be able to save you.

“Don’t you fucking do it!” Bakugou’s voice matched the time he had broken down in front of Midoriya. Tears welled up in Midoriya’s eyes and his voice followed his childhood friends. “Y/N! WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”

Bakugou turned and looked toward the doorway leading into the school halls. He didn’t know what possessed him to rush through the doors rather than continue up the stairs, but he was grateful. He ran at the window as he heard Midoriya scream from the floor above. Bakugou rushed through the glass and he wasn’t the only one. Midoriya had kicked through the window and launched himself outside to try and catch you. Bakugou used his quirk to propel himself downward after you. Him and Midoriya moving at the same speed. Fire blasting behind Bakugou while Midoriya kept running along the side of the building. You were passing the floors faster and faster. Bakugou screamed using the full force of his quirk. His hand reached out and grabbed your ankle yanking backward to pull the top half of you closer. His hand gripped the back of your head pulling you into himself. He could see the ground getting closer and couldn’t use his quirk without letting go of you. He would have taken the damage but didn’t. He never hit the ground as Midoriya kicked off the building grabbing the two of you before pushing against the air. He broke through the fourth story window hitting the floor and tumbling through the glass. He had let go of Bakugou who was still holding you, his hand cradling your head against his chest as he took the force of hitting the floor and glass pushing through his sleep tank top. Both boys were breathing heavy their chest pounding harder than when they were running. Midoriya got up rushing to your side. Bakugou moved you away from his chest. Your chest rose and fell in a very slow manner. It was like you were sleeping. They were scared that when you woke up, you’d try again, you’d fight them for saving you. Or maybe you would be okay. Maybe you just needed to be saved to know that it was possible. Bakugou wouldn’t let go of you and Midoriya wouldn’t leave your side. His fingers stroking your hair. The two boys shared a quiet promise to not tell anyone about their sorry states. Bakugou was crying, his eyes bloodshot. Midoriya didn’t look any better, he had to keep wiping his nose and eyes on his hoodie sleeve. There was the distant sound of sirens and the dark room flashed with red and blue lighting from below. Bakugou stood up holding you in his arms. Midoriya took off his hoodie shaking the debris off it before laying over you. Bakugou and him stare at you before looking at each other. They could tell how much the other care for you. Bakugou scoffed before walking ahead. Midoriya smiled sadly walking beside him. His legs were throbbing and he could see the singe marks on Bakugou’s knuckles. They walked down the stairs in silence, no words being shared. Nothing could be said right now, you were safe for now and they just wanted you to be okay. Police, EMT’s, and a fire truck were parked outside. Your classmates stood off to the side behind tape, every one of them. Mr. Aizawa turned with All Might to look at the boys than down at you in Bakugou’s arms. The medical staff rushed forward but before they could try and take you Bakugou pulled the hand supporting your head free. It sparked and his snarl threatened them. Midoriya moved his hand to replace Bakugou’s against your head. The officers told Bakugou to back down and give you over. All Might and Mr. Aizawa approached.

“Young Bakugou, Young Midoriya. You got to her on time. We are so grateful; you both are heroes but now you have to hand her over so they can take her to the hospital.” Bakugou didn’t want to let you go and before he could Midoriya spoke up. “We made it on time to catch her. We didn’t make it on time to stop her. She jumped; we were just able to catch her.”

There was this tension as the realization seeped into the two adults’ minds. You had jumped and that changed things even more. The two boys knew you needed help, a lot more help and they were determined to get it for you. They knew that you couldn’t be magically cured and that this would take time but they had time and were willing to be there through it all. The two boys nodded at each other before handing you over to the EMT waiting. They watched them hook you onto a gurney lifting you into the ambulance and then you were gone. As you were wheeled to the vehicle your classmates behind the tape watched. They couldn’t believe that one of them had been hurting enough to do this. The girls were quiet do to them being the last ones to witness your breakdown. Uraraka was crying and rubbing her hands against her eyes. Sobs broke from her as she realized that she was the one who pushed you to do this. Mina screamed your name willing you to sit up and smile at her but you remained unconscious on the bed. She watched you get taking away and she cried out your name while the students around her cried too. They never wanted this and wished they had been there for you. The thing is though, you would never want them to blame themselves.

“Come on you all get back to the dorms.” Mr. Aizawa ushered his students away leaving Midoriya and Bakugou to tell the police what had happened. Bakugou was aggressive toward the officer when he seemed to not care about your mental health. They made it seem like you were crazy. Even Midoriya had to argue for your sake. They both left with All Might. They wanted to go to the hospital but only family was allowed to see you. All Might promised the boys that he would take them to see you as soon as you were allowed to have visitors. There was also a chance you wouldn’t want people to see you, or that you’d be considered a threat to others and yourself and be locked up.

While everyone dealt with this heart ache and remorse you rested peacefully for once. Not even aware that you hadn’t succeeded.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha midoriya #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #izuku x reader #midorya x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #boku no hero x reader

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

Vulture Food

[UK Tour; Wing Au]

Wing Reference EB’s Reference

So @spooner7308 and I did a writing-art trade!! They requested EB looking out for Tour!Joan in the wing AU, which is a dynamic I can really get behind!

This fic is not meant to be taken in a shippy kind of way despite the ship they made with EB and Joan, because 1) this is Tour!Joan and 2) I write Tour!Joan as a teenager. EB and Tour!Joan kinda have a mentor-student relationship. Or maybe a grouchy gay aunt and niece relationship? It’s just not romantic.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, Rowan!! Sorry if I got EB wrong in some parts!

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

Everyone said Joan was scared of everything- being late, delayed shows, messing up during a performance, talking to people, ordering food, the dark, probably even her own shadow, and Joan wouldn’t deny some of those things (though, she was not afraid of her own shadow…), but she felt like she had every right to be afraid of the technician in the show.

EB, or Elizabeth Barron, was a griffon vulture Avem, and also quite possibly the scariest person Joan had ever seen before. Her wings were massive, a dull sand color that faded to gradients of dark brown at the tips of the primary feathers, and her tail feathers were short and choppy, quills picked out and frayed, leaving them looking like the remnants of an avian after Drop Feather Fever. She was covered in tattoos, some of skulls and dead things, others of symbols that reminded Joan of their past life, and a few that didn’t make any sense to Joan at all. Her body was gangly and lean, but she made up for it in killer glares, razor sharp talons that never stopped twitching, and a mouth that always seemed to be contorted into a Resting Bitch Snarl.

And she scared the absolute shit out of Joan.

Avems always made Joan wary; out of all the tribes, they always seemed to hate hybrids the most, but something about EB just made Joan want to play dead whenever she came near. She would always freeze and watch the woman fearfully, waiting for her to snap around and gouge her throat out with her talons. But she never did. Not that that diminished Joan’s anxiety.

The first time they formally met each other, Joan had froze in her place and slammed her eyes shut, willing the vulture to go away. And it wasn’t even that EB was a vulture, she didn’t care about what her wings were from, she was just nervous around everyone. It wasn’t a personal thing. She hoped EB didn’t think it was a personal thing. Would she rip her guts out if she did? Would anyone care if she did? Oh goddesses, what if she--

“Damn. You are shaking.”

The deep, but snarky gruff voice made Joan’s ears flick in surprise. She dared to open one eye, and saw that EB was peering at her curiously. Her large wings were folded back against her back, feathers slightly sticking up in disarray, and Joan wondered how she managed to hold them up so easily. The stench of cigarette smoke invaded Joan’s nose, and she struggled not to react to the smell to avoid looking rude and setting EB off.

“You’re Joan, yeah?” EB said.

“Umm--” Joan floundered for a moment. “Y-yeah. I-I mean-- Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, do not do that.” EB said, snorting lightly. She looked closely at Joan as if she were a peculiar flower that just sprouted out of the tile. “Abiel’s tail feathers, you are weird-looking.”

Joan’s ears lowered and she looked away, suddenly feeling hot shame rocket through her. Now she just wanted to melt into a puddle and live the rest of her miserable life as a liquid. People would still walk all over her, but at least they couldn’t make fun of her when she was water.

“Oh, shit,” EB said, suddenly looking a little less scary and a little more concerned. She ran her sharp claws through her hair, and Joan could just barely see patchy crest feathers sticking out from her scruffy brown hair. “Fuck, kid, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I meant ‘weird’ as in ‘cool’. I think you look pretty rad. Much cooler than most avians around here.”

Joan shifted her wings, not used to being complimented. “Oh. Th-thank you, ma’am-- I mean-- Sorry.”

“You are very nervous.” EB observed. She tilted her head at Joan. “Why aren’t you running away from me? Are you not scared of me?”

“I am.” Joan blurted, then instantly wanted to bite off her tongue. But EB didn’t look offended. “I-I just, umm…” She couldn’t get her words to form coherently.

“Freaks gotta stick together, huh?” EB said.

“Oh, uhh-- Y-yeah.”

EB cracked the smallest smile, ruffled Joan’s hair, and then lumbered away. Joan blinked as she walked away, feeling slowly returning to her tense muscles. She touched the area that EB had pat, and wondered how she got out of that alive.

------

Joan saw EB frequently, but it wasn’t until a freezing cold rainy day that they really interacted again.

Joan had trudged through the rain, already late for work, and was now shivering from head-to-toe. Her ears felt like they were frozen solid, her wings were dripping wet and heavy with rainwater, and she was beginning to worry that her claws were about to fall off. Mist was streaming from her nostrils and her fangs chattered together loudly as she staggered to her dressing room to get busy, but was stopped when a certain griffon vulture stepped into her path.

“You about to blow up or something?” EB said, glancing at the white mist wreathing around Joan’s small fawn horns.

“Oh, uhh-- N-no,” Joan said. “Th-this just, umm, happens. Sometimes. Wh-when I get too cold.”

“Ah,” EB nodded. “You gonna dry off?”

“I don’t have time,” Joan said. She shook off her wings, and droplets sprayed everywhere. “I gotta s-s-start working.”

She attempted to duck around EB to get into her room, but EB opened one huge wing and stopped her. She stepped back, folding her ears back. EB suddenly looked a lot like an actual griffon with the glinting of her eyes and sharpness of her facial features.

“Look at you,” EB said. “You can barely speak coherently without stuttering. Do you really think you can work like this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Joan said, pulling her dripping wings in close around her.

“What if you get sick?”

“I’ll still go to work. That isn’t gonna stop me…”

EB rubbed her forehead. “You are a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? I wouldn’t have expected that.” Then, she was sliding off her thick grey-green coat and dropping it over Joan. “There.”

The weight of the jacket actually made Joan stagger slightly. It was heavy and bulky, but was still warm from EB wearing it. She blinked over its mass at EB.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t wash this right now. There’s not a washing machine here. I can take it home with me, though?” Joan said.

EB looked at her like her ears just detached from her head and flew off into the ceiling. “No, I’m giving it to you. So you can wear it.”

Joan blinked even more. “What?”

“You’re shivering just a little, kid,” EB said, gesturing to Joan’s vibrating body with one wing. “Take it. You need it more than I do.” Without the jacket, EB’s tattoos and the scar around her neck was more visible than it usually was. It was inflamed bright red, like Anne’s and Howard’s, but rough like a third-degree rope burn that never truly healed. Joan struggled not to look at it, so she just focused her eyes on the tattoo of a noose wound around EB’s left wrist.

“B-but--” Joan stuttered. “I-I can’t. Y-you need it, too!”

“Trust me, it’s okay,” EB said. “Go on. Put it on and go do your work. Don’t worry about me.”

And then, she walked away, ending the conversation and not allowing Joan to give her her jacket back. Joan hesitantly put the coat on. The smell of cigarettes and incenses was oddly comforting.

------

“Oi, heads up!” Joan yelped out loud when a water bottle suddenly hit her in the head. She rubbed the area of impact and turned around to see EB standing in the doorway.

“Sorry.” EB said. “Stay hydrated, kid.”

And then, like last time, she whisked off before Joan could even say anything else.

------

When molting season rolled around, Joan’s wings became two masses of discolored itchiness. Her old feathers were now brittle and stiff, and the new feathers scratched her skin as they grew over the old ones. She had to start plucking soon, since she didn’t want to bother Aragon and Howard with helping her molt.

And then, there was a knock against her door frame.

“Damn,” EB said. “You got worse wing care than me, kid.”

She walked over to where Joan was hunched over her work table. Her own wings were surprisingly glossy and shiny, meaning she had molted recently. It was strange to see her feathers not sticking up everywhere like they were charged with static electricity. She extended her clawed hands to Joan’s wings.

“May I?”

“Umm… Sure.” Joan said hesitantly.

EB opened Joan’s wing with more gentleness than Joan had been expecting and whistled.

“Yikes.” EB commented helpfully. “Yeah, I’m afraid to tell you that your wings are now overgrown bushes.”

Joan grunted. “They’re usually like this…”

EB raised an eyebrow. “Really? Hybrids can’t molt?”

Joan shook her head sluggishly. “No. So I gotta pull them out or else they’ll overgrow and get yucky and then I’ll get sick.”

EB nodded. “Ah,” She said, then swiped some scissors from a cup of supplies. “Well, we don’t want that happening, do we?”

Joan glanced back at her. “Wh-what are you doing?” She asked.

“What does it look like?” EB answered, twirling the scissors haphazardly on one of her fingers. “I’m helping you. Now, face forward and sit still, or I can’t be blamed for you getting cut. For once.” She chuckled.

That’s right. Didn’t EB go to jail? Several times?

Joan swallowed thickly and sat as still as she could. Her hand was shaking slightly, splattering small droplets of black ink on her notepad. Her ears were pinned back flat against the top of her head. In her mind, she kept saying that nothing would happen, that everything was going to be okay, that it was--

“Ow!” Joan yelped, flinching and flaring her crest feathers.

“Sorry, sorry,” EB said. “Yikes, these are fragile. They’re just breaking right off.”

“Yeah, that--that happens,” Joan said.

Behind her, the scissors EB was using snipped away, cutting off old feathers and allowing room for the new ones to grow in properly. Her hands and movements were surprisingly gentle, wickedly sharp claws just barely brushing the skin of Joan’s wings. She was actually being quite careful to avoid cutting Joan on accident.

“So…” EB started. “Sorry, I’m a little awkward, too. I’m not used to this, either. Being around people so much. I kinda just avoid everyone. Though, it’s not like anyone goes around me anyway.” She opened one wing and waved it slightly.

Like crow and raven Avems being a sign of death and dove Avems being completely innocent, a stigma was formed around vultures. Mary I of England, aka Bloody Mary, had been a white-backed vulture. After she mass murdered hundreds of people by burning them alive, a mark was left on the views of vulture Avems, and not just the white-backed ones. They were stereotyped as malicious, sadistic, and filthy creatures that ate corpses and smelled like decay and had sex with dead bodies.

But EB didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed engaging in necrophilia (Joan wasn’t even sure where that stereotype even came from). She didn’t smell like decay, either, rather just cigarettes and the smallest hint of what she thought was oil. And she definitely didn’t seem like she ate dead stuff; Avems couldn’t even eat dead things without getting sick, anyway, only Vespers could!

No, EB just looked jaded. Grizzled from the gore of her brutal execution and rugged from the harshness of the modern London world, EB was cold, but not cruel. She was helping Joan, after all. She was just hiding a warmer heart behind walls of thorns because she had learned that to stay safe, she had to become stony and detached. So, she kept her eyes in a permanent sharp leer and her voice barbed and wrapped in shards of glass. She gave in to the stigma of her wings to keep them on her back.

“Oh,” Joan said after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

EB shook her head. “I’m not sure why you’re apologizing. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, but stil…” Joan said. “It’s awful… What some people say…”

“It wasn’t that bad before my death,” EB shrugged. “Mary hadn’t gone fucking insane. Though, some people did think it was weird that a vulture was also a nun.” She chuckled, and it was a rough, rumbly sound in her throat. “But I got used to it.”

Joan wished she could do that. She was never able to just ignore what people said about her, and simply not caring was even harder. Because she did care. A lot. And it hurt really badly to hear some of the things people said about her.

“Yeah,” Joan whispered softly, though she didn’t have the same outlook as EB at all. She could never be that strong or confident over herself.

A silence descended upon the two of them again as EB continued to cut away Joan’s old, dead feathers. Joan’s wings still itched, but not as badly; she truly appreciated what EB was doing for her.

“Thank you,” Joan said, breaking the silence. “This was really nice of you to do for me.”

“Don’t mention it,” EB said. “No need for you to get picked on even more for having dirty wings.” Then, thoughtfully, after a moment of thinking, “Your wings looked better than most of theirs, anyway. Much cooler.”

Joan felt a shy blush rise to her cheeks, folding her ears bashfully. “Th-thanks,” She whispered. “Really. I really do appreciate it.”

EB hummed. “No problem. I got your back, kid.”

------

There was a small storage area on the back of one of the tour buses that held spare tech equipment, and EB was insanely protective of it.

Nobody really knew why, but most of the other crew members called it her “nest.” She manned and took care of the equipment, she unloaded tech items when they were needed, and she made sure everything was in working order. And she /hated/ when people went back there without her permission.

But Joan didn’t get the memo.

Well, she did, but she wasn’t in the right headspace to consider the risk she was taking when she staggered to the back of the truck. She just needed to be alone, away from the workers that had called her rude slurs for accidentally hitting them with her wings, and she thought that the truck would be the perfect place to have her mental breakdown in peace. The door was cracked open slightly, anyway, so it should have been shut if nobody wanted her being inside. And she hadn’t even recognized the truck when she shimmied underneath the door and staggered into the darkness.

Instantly, a wire wrapped around Joan’s ankle and she yelped, jumping free. She ran into some stacked speakers, then smacked a few metal poles with her wings, and now she was starting to see why she had been yelled at. She was so stupid and clumsy and--

Joan sniffled. She stepped over several snarls of wires and weaved around spotlights before finding a nice spot between a few boxes where she could sit down. She wedged herself into the small space, hugged her knees in close, and then started to cry.

Every bad thing was bubbling forth again, but she was used to it by now. She tried so hard to suppress all her emotions, but the slightest bad thing caused them to come spewing out.

She just hated her wings. And she hated being a hybrid. And she hated even being alive again because she felt like there was no real point for her being there. She wasn’t anyone special at all. She was just forgettable and useless and dumb.

Joan’s chest began to ache with the force of her sobs. She pulled her ears with her claws dug in; sometimes she considered just ripping them right out. Maybe she could pass for a regular Avem if she removed them and then broke off her horns and then never opened her wings.

Maybe she could finally just be normal.

A sound interrupted Joan’s crying session- footsteps, ruffling wings, rattling metal.

The truck door flew open.

Joan flinched, accidentally letting a gasp escape her when the metal door hit the top of the truck. She only then realized where she was and froze, curling into a tight ball to try and hide herself behind the boxes.

“Who is in here?” The vulture’s voice snarled.

Joan squeezed her eyes shut and prayed to the goddesses that she would be spared from a brutal death. She was already imagining her throat being gouged out by EB’s claws or her stomach getting slashed open and her guts ripped out.

She imagined the jaw trap and barely suppressed a sob.

She could take a gut spill and even EB decapitating her to mimic her own death, but she couldn’t take the jaw trap. Not again. She was already starting to taste the metal plate and feel the iron jaws clamping around her mouth and hear the clinking and ticking of gears and springs as the rusty old jaw trap began to malfunction and spring open, ripping her bottom jaw off while she was still breathing…

EB stepped into the truck; Joan could hear her wings brushing against speakers and lights and boxes.

“Who is in here?” EB said again, this time a lot more fiercely. “Answer me, now!”

Joan wrapped her wings around herself and wept in fear. She couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t want to be punished for something she did on accident. She didn’t want the jaw trap on her again.

She heard EB walking further into the truck, peeking behind metal beams and moving boxes to check in crevices. And then she came to Joan’s hiding spot and they locked eyes.

“Joan,” EB said, slightly surprised.

“I’m sorry!” Joan blurted instantly. “I’m so, so sorry! I-I didn’t mean it! I didn’t look where I was going, I’m sorry!”

“Woah, hey, calm down,” EB said.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Joan begged, trying to hide under her wings. “Please, please… I didn’t mean it, I promise!”

EB stared her down in silence for a moment. “Okay, you need to take a breath,” She said after a moment. “You’re freaking out, kid.”

Joan whimpered pathetically in response.

“I’m not going to hurt you, alright? I’m not mad.” EB said, raising her talons to seem less threatening. “Just calm down.”

Joan sniffled and wiped her eyes. EB looked at her closely.

“Why are you crying?”

“I-it’s nothing,” Joan said, then hiccuped. Of course. She always hiccuped when she was nervous or scared. Or upset. Or flustered. It was just awful.

“Did someone say something to you?” EB pressed anyway.

Joan shrugged, even though she knew the answer was ‘yes.’ “I-I just needed to be alone,” She croaked.

“Ah,” EB nodded. Then, she took a key off the key ring she was holding and tossed it to Joan. “Here. This is a spare for the truck. You can come in here whenever you need to get away from everything.”

Joan floundered for a moment in shock, blinking and opened and closing her mouth several times.

“Th-th-thank you,” She finally sputtered out.

“Yeah, yeah,” EB said. “Just don’t touch anything. And don’t break anything.”

Joan sniffled and nodded. “O-okay. Thank you.”

------

Joan was standing outside of the theater, watching the rain, getting some fresh air to ease her aching chest. She didn’t like the anxiety attacks that made her heart feel like it was exploding inside of her; she would rather not be able to breathe because this just made her think she was having a heart attack, which then made the anxiety attack even worse.

She closed her eyes and held her breath for five seconds, then released it. She did this several times, not really feeling a change in her heart pain, then heard the front doors to the theater open and close.

“You good, kid?”

Joan opened her eyes and saw EB standing there beside her. She thought the woman had an expression of worry on her face, but she couldn’t quite tell; EB’s emotions were always really difficult to discern.

“Y-yeah,” Joan whispered shakily.

“You don’t sound good,” EB observed. She leaned against the wall next to Joan. “I’ll keep you company until you are.”

“Thanks…”

Silence fell between them. Thunder rumbled deeply from the thick dark grey clouds overhead. The rain fell harder. A chill settled over the street. Joan shivered and pulled her wings around herself, but the smooth bat skin inside of them provided little warmth.

“How do you do it?” Joan asked quietly.

The tufts on EB’s ears pricked up and she looked at Joan curiously. “What?” “How do you not get bothered by all the mean people?” Joan clarified, internally wincing at how childish the question sounded.

“Oh,” EB said, then shrugged. “I just ignore it, I guess. Why should I care what other people think? They don’t know me, and they certainly don’t matter to me.”

Joan nodded, but didn’t find that very helpful for her. It was impossible for her not to care.

“Alright,” Joan said quietly.

“Don’t let stupid people bother you.” EB said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Joan mumbled. “Sorry…”

“Hm.” EB hummed. She took a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket and held one down to Joan. Joan blinked up at her. “You mind?”

“Oh.” Joan understood after a moment. She ground her teeth together, riling up the firestorm inside of her, then blew a breath of frost onto the cigarette.

She and EB stared at the now-frozen cigarette. Joan’s face turned bright red, while EB chuckled gruffly.

“S-sorry,” Joan whispered.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” EB said. She put the frozen cigarette back into the box to thaw and grabbed a new one, using an actual lighter to light it. She offered the box to Joan. “You want one?”

Joan wrinkled her nose in distaste. “No thank you.”

EB chuckled again, this time a little more heartily. “Good girl.” She said. “This stuff will kill you.”

“Then why do you smoke?” Joan asked confusedly.

EB shrugged and blew out some smoke like a Hydra would. “Old habits die hard, I guess. Plus, who knows, maybe I like pretending to be Hydra.”

“Oh.”

Another silence fell over them as EB smoked. The smell was overwhelmingly rank, but Joan didn’t want to make EB mad or upset by saying something, so she kept her mouth shut.

“Does what people say bother you that much?” EB asked.

“Yeah,” Joan answered softly. “It’s all I can think about sometimes.”

“I see,” EB said. She finished her smoke and then put the cigarette out. She turned to Joan. “Let me know who bothers you, yeah? I’ll break their ribs.”

Something about those violent, but protective words touched Joan’s heart, and she was suddenly leaping forward and throwing her arms and wings around EB.

“Oof-- Okay,” EB stumbled back slightly. Her talons hovered over Joan. “Agh. Alright. Fine. Just this once.” She returned the embrace, sweeping her massive wings around Joan.

“Thank you,” Joan whispered, nuzzling into EB’s warmth and secure hold without even thinking it through. She couldn’t help herself- she so desperately craved touch and affection.

“Heh. Yeah. No problem, love.” EB said. “You adorable little freak.”

And, for once, Joan wasn’t hurt by those words.

#wing au #dont tag as ship or i will pour milk in your shoes #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #uk tour six #elizabeth barton #tour joan on the keys #vulture food

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kyber-kisses · 5 years ago

Text

In The Wind

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: pretty angsty but that’s about it.

Summary: based on the lyrics In the Wind by Lord Huron. (It’s a song fic folks!)

A/n: Lord Hurons music is some of my all time favorite shit to listen to, and the lyrics always get my creative juices flowing, so this is probably the first out of multiple song fics I write for his music. I literally listened to this song on repeat while writing this, so Please enjoy!

Link to song here: https://open.spotify.com/track/6gTglnHm9CIGGRox5TtMd9?si=iZ8Tc3fuQ3mfgAqYKztsqA

“You’re thinking about her again, aren't you?”

Sam's voice pulled Dean from his haze, eyes slowly looking up from his glass of whiskey to land on his brother and Jack.

Not this again.

Dean did everything he could to try and ignore Jacks confused expression, the nephilim having no idea as to who they were talking about.

“Thinking about who?” Jack questioned, eyes ever so slightly lighting up.

You've been gone for a long long time

You've been in the wind, you've been on my mind

You are the purest soul I've ever known in my life

Damn it. He was letting his emotions peek through again.

“Okay, you know what- I’m not talking about this. Not now. Not ever.” Dean sighed, quickly pushing up from his spot at the table, downing the rest of his whiskey and slamming the glass back down, exiting the room with a huff.

Sam mentally slapped himself. He shouldn’t have brought it up. It always put Dean in a mood. There was a good chance his brother was going to lock himself away in his room for the weekend because of it.

“Did- did I do something?” Jack questioned, eyes darting from the doorway to Sam, hoping for an explanation.

“Uh- no, no you didn’t. It’s mainly my fault.” Sam sighed.

Pushing up from his own seat, Sam crossed the kitchen, not sure whether what he was about to do was a good idea or not.

Digging behind the shelf of coffee mugs, he produced the artifact that Dean had tried so hard to keep hidden. With slow steps he moved back to Jack, handing over the worn picture frame, the glass in one corner slightly cracked, but otherwise spotless.

Take your time, let the rivers guide you in

You know where you can find me again

I'll be waiting here 'til the stars fall out of the sky

“Her name was Y/n.”

Jack tilted his head, looking at both the familiar face and new one in the photograph. The whole thing almost seemed foreign though. Dean was smiling- well he wasn’t just smiling, he was laughing, leaning back against the impala, arm sling over the shoulders of a young woman. Her head tilted back in laughter, y/h/c hair blowing slighting across her features.

“She was— she was Deans best friend. Ever since we were kids. Though he never has said it out loud, everyone knew he was in love with her. There was no doubt about that.He always denied it though when people brought it up.” Sam continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips as memories flooded through him.

“What happened?”

Sam took a breath, knowing full well Dean was probably gonna kick his ass later. “When Dean was first pulled from hell, one of the demons in charge of him, Alastair, was really angry, and I mean really angry, He tracked us down.” The younger Winchester sucked in another breath, fiddling with his thumbs, “he- he practically butchered her right in front us. Dean fought so hard, but it was too late. He never forgave himself for that.”

“. . .Oh.”

When you left I was far too young

To know you're worth more than the moon and the sun

You are still alive when I look to the sky in the night

Dean always told people that he didn’t do the whole “love thing.”

That was a lie.

Because even if he never said it out loud, Dean Winchester had been completely and utterly in love with you. Hell, a massive part of him still was, even if almost a decade had passed.

There was no one like you. There never would be. You were just a feisty eight year old when you and Dean had met. He was seven.

Your meeting was anything but romantic. Uncle Bobby always warned you about strangers, so when when you bumped into Dean in his study- things didn’t go smoothly.

You kneed him in the groin and took his pocket knife.

Dean thought you were the coolest girl he had ever met.

I would wait for a thousand years

I would sit right here by the lake, my dear

You just let me know that you're coming home

And I'll wait for you

Walking down the empty hallways of the bunker , Dean found himself pausing in front of one of the many vacant bedrooms. He didn’t really know why he stopped in his tracks, but he did.

You would have loved this place. You would have read every book to be found and undoubtedly decorated your room in some odd fashion that would actually, somehow come together. You would have tinkered with every vintage car that sat in the garage and found the hallways perfect for rollerblading through.

You would have made this place so much better. So much brighter.

But you weren’t here.

Dean eventually slunk back to his room, blocking out his surroundings with a pair of headphones as he scrolled through his phone, looking for something in particular. And then he found it: Y/ns favorites.

The playlist was jammed pack full of your favorite oldies, going from Sam Cooke to The Beatles. You always did have good taste. You would definitely find today’s music downright terrible.

Years have gone but the pain is the same

I have passed my days by the sound of your name

Well they say that you're gone and that I should move on

I wonder: how do they know, baby?

Even if he had lost you all those years ago, his mind always found time to wander back to you. He saw pieces of you in almost everything. Every once in a while, during a case or just a supply run, he would hear someone call out to a person with the same name, and he would whip around, ever so slightly hoping he would see you.

He never did.

He would see an album cover for a record, or even take a bite of food, and think: “oh y/n would love this.”

No matter how far he ran or how fast he moved, he could never escape you, but then again, he didn’t want to. You were a part of him, ever since the two of you locked eyes in Bobby’s study.

Death is a wall but it can't be the end

You are my protector and my best friend

Well they say that you're gone and that I should move on

I wonder: how do they know, baby?

How do they know? Well, they don't

“What was she like?” Jack questioned, lowering the frame to the table as he looked up at Sam, eyebrows drawn together in interest. He wanted to know more about you.

You had been Deans best friend after all.

Sam let out a light chuckle, sliding the frame back towards himself so he could look at it again, “Y/n, I think, never knew the effect she had on others, the intensity or presence she brought to the room,” he paused, moving to wipe some of the dust from the frame, “She was feisty. . . And troubled, like the rest of us, but she was also impossible to ignore or forget.” Sam had to stop, giving himself a moment to compose himself so he didn’t start crying in front of the kid.

“Then I understand why Dean would have loved her. She sounds amazing.” Jack smiled, earning a grin Sam as well.

“Oh trust me, she was. I think she would have really liked you.” Pushing away from the kitchen table, Sam patted him on the back, undoubtedly retreating to his own room for the night.

That’s when the nephilim had a sudden thought: if he could bring back Castiel from the Great beyond, why couldn’t he do the same with you?

The End?

SPN taglist: @familybusinesswritingbro@a--1--1--3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox @horrorstreet

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #song fic #SPN #spn x reader #spn x y/n #spn x you #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #bi-danvers writing

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namfine · 5 years ago

Text

Motherlode | Namjoon x Reader | Gold Rush AU | Part 1

❂ pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

❂ word count: 5k

❂ summary: Following the death of your father in 1849, you travel across the United States in search of finding gold in California. There you stumble upon a young geology professor eager to find his way in the world as well.

❂ tags: 18+, smut, virgin reader, first time sex, oral sex (fem receiving), foreplay, light dirty talk, falling in love, mutual feelings, gold rush au, time period au, alternate universe, outdoor sex? (they’re in a tent so?), smut with plot

❂ part: 1 of 2

Part 2

❂ a/n: Hello everyone, Admin Zesty here! This is the first in a two part series of a new alternate universe set in the California Gold Rush with our dearest Namjoon. I’ll update this and post the next chapter when it’s finished. Hope you enjoy!

- ☆.｡.:* Zesty .｡.:*☆

The sunrises out here really were beautiful. That gave you something to look forward to each day, at least. You urged your horse forward, eager to catch up to the rest of the caravan. It was just a few more miles until you reached the border of California and then a bit more to reach the American River. You had made it. For the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope.

The trek across America had been harder than you expected. You had been so overcome with grief from the death of your father that you had leapt at the opportunity to find riches in the unexplored west after James Marshall found that massive gold nugget. New York had nothing for you now, it’s only purpose serving as a stark reminder that you had no one left in the world to look out for you. Only mean neighbors who trusted your bookshop owning father on his peculiar way of raising a young lady.

“I do oppose young ladies learning how to read, it’s quite unbecoming.”

“If you keep encouraging those debates, Mr. Y/L/N, you’re going to raise her to have a mind of her own!”

“Ugh, did you see what Y/N was wearing around the store the other evening? Pantaloons!”

You shoved down the memories. Yes, leaving New York after the death of your father had been surprisingly easy.

The sun finally tipped over the horizon and flashed in your eyes. You pulled down your cap, careful to keep your hair tucked under it in an effort to block the sun. It was dangerous for a single young lady without a male relative or husband to travel alone. With no known family left, you had done the only thing you knew to avoid it: became a boy.

As a boy you were inconspicuous, you could easily slide under the radar. Men stopped paying attention to you and the streets were safer at night. Your last night in New York all it took was a pair of scissors and a quick raid of your father’s closet and you were ready to go. But now, five months into the journey, your hair was starting to get long again and you knew your face well enough to know that if you didn’t pin your hair, it would soon be easy to tell. You had lost your knife a few months back and sorely felt the loss.

“How are the pains?” A soft voice drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see the minister’s wife astride her sorrel mare beside you. As one of the few women in the group, she had the ability to move quietly when she needed to. She was older than you and had a kind face. Her and her husband were heading to California to spread the gospel of the lord and had been kind enough to let you tag along with their group on the journey. Most of which were practicers of religion or men hoping to find riches for their families. The caravan totaled to about 25 people and of them all, she was the only one that knew you were a girl.

She’d figured it out quickly, given the fact that your period the first month on the road had been brutal. She had recognized your pain, offered you some herbs, and didn’t ask any questions.

When you offered an explanation later, stating how you wanted the opportunity and safety only a man’s appearance could offer, she said you didn’t need to explain. That your reasonings were your own and she understood what would happen if you were discovered. Of the freedom that could be taken from you and the things that could be forced upon you in an instant.

And that was that. Your companionship had grown from there, simple but welcomed.

“They’re better,” you respond. “Thank you for the herbs.”

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when you get there?”

You tightened your resolve and flashed her a smile. “I’m gonna kick the West’s ass.”

***

It turns out, the West’s ass didn’t want to be kicked. By the time you had reached the base on the American River parts of your group had dwindled down. The minister and his wife stayed with you and the other panners for a few days before continuing on their journey to San Francisco leaving you, for the first time on this journey, completely and utterly alone.

The base was huge, an expedition set up by a mean old man who called himself The Warden. What his real name was, no one knew. You had that in common with him at least, having kept your true name secret to all who you’d encountered.

It was now, standing in his massive tent surrounded by his men, that the sinking feeling of being a woman in disguise in a camp filled with rascals settled in. If any one were to discover you, god knows what would happen.

“How old are you anyway, boy?” The warden asked. He was standing behind his desk. On it was a map of the American with circles indicating where gold had been found. “You’re a scrawny fella.”

“Sixteen, sir.” 23. But tall, for a girl and well past marriageable age in your neighbors opinions.

The older man scoffed, stroking his mustache. “And you out here searchin’ for riches, son? Gonna blow it all on hookers and booze, I betcha.” The men around him laughed. You kept your face neutral.

“Something like that, sir.”

“Well,” he took a swig from the metal mug. “All walks of life are welcome here. We’re all runnin’ from somethin’ and searchin’ for the-” he held up a finger “-one thing that will help us escape.” He put down the mug and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, careful to avoid smudging the ink on the map. “Sign here and you can start tomorrow.”

You looked at the paper. Lucky for you, your father had believed that everyone, regardless of gender should be taught to read. You couldn’t say the same for the parents of other girls your age. He had also taught you to be wary of a contract. “What is it?”

“An agreement, boy. You sign away 60 days of honest work to me, panning for gold and helping assemble my mine. After that, I’ll let you pan here for free. Anything you find, you keep.”

Seems fair.

“What if I find something before my days are up?”

He looked at you. “Then it’s mine. I’m letting you sleep here and eat our food, I gotta pay for it all somehow and aren’t we all in this for profit?”

Touche.

“Deal.”

***

The days were long and the work was hard. Regardless, you found yourself quickly settling into a routine at the camp. You started most mornings down by the river, panning for gold. The cool water managed to balance out the hot sun and compared to the noisy streets of New York, you were loving the sounds of the birds and the wind.

In the afternoons you would sometimes continue panning or they would send you into the mines to help clear paths. You hated it down there. There was something unnerving about going deep into the earth and digging into her crevices. The air smelled damp and the only light was the lanterns that were hung haphazardly along the walls. You tried to avoid this work as much as possible.

On the eighth day of your sentence your routine was broken by a disturbance on the outskirts of the main base. A young professor had arrived a few days earlier and you had paid him little mind, as did most of the other miners. Still, it seemed his time of going unnoticed was over.

“What did you say about my gold?” An angry man had the lanky professor by his collar and up against a tree, two of his friends closing in on either side.

The professor waved his arms in surrender, trying desperately to fix whatever it was he seemed to have started. You stopped along the path along with a few other panners to observe and a small crowd gathered shortly.

“I merely spoke the truth,” The professor said, his voice even and calm. “What you have there isn’t gold at all. It’s pyrite. You trading it for time off his sentence seems hardly fair considering it's pretty much worthless.”

You shook your head at his honesty in such a compromising position. What an idiot.

“Look,” The panner said, tightening his grip on the professor's collar. “ I may not have some fancy degree from some big college but I’ve been working these waters a lot longer than you, boy, and I know gold when I see it.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make, when you don’t know the differences. I hardly blame you.”

Your mouth dropped open. The men around you shifted on their feet, sensing a scuffle.

The man fumed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

The professor looked down at his collar at the spot where the man gripped his collar before tracing the man’s arm with his eyes slowly back to his face.

Oh god, you thought. Please don’t say it.

“I don’t think you’re a liar,” the professor stated.

Oh, good. He has some sense at least.

“Just an idiot.”

Here we go.

The man pulled back his other fist, his friends egging him on, ready to throw the punch. The professor shot another one of his goofy grins and this time you could have sworn it was in your direction. You stared at him in abject confusion.

“Stop!” A shout rang out across the group and everyone froze. “What’s going on here?”

You turned to see the warden fast approaching, his usual squad hot on his heels. “Men, release the professor and explain!”

The man holding the professor’s collar dropped it and the professor brushed off his shirt, giving him another small smile. “This here smart guy,” the assailant started. “Was accusin’ me of lyin’. Sayin’ that I was rippin’ ole Jimmy off with a piece of . . . uh. . .” he looked at the professor.

The professor leaned forward. “Pyrite,” he supplied.

“Ah, yeah,” the man continued. “Pyrite! He said I was rippin’ Jimmy off with a piece of this here Pyrite!”

The warden looked up at the heaven’s like he was hoping today would be his last day on earth. “Could I see the mineral in question?”

The man supplied the gem out of his pocket and handed it to the warden. The crowd stood on their tiptoes as he examined it, eager to see the verdict. The professor didn’t show any emotion, merely crossed his arms in quiet confidence. You studied his movements.

The warden turned the piece over in his hands, examining the mineral before bringing it to his mouth and biting down. When he was satisfied he turned toward the assailant.

“The professor accused you of lyin’ not because he thought you were,” the warden began, startlingly calm. “But because he knew you were a FUCKING IDIOT!” The warden threw the stone against the tree, mere inches past the assailants head who cowered at the tone. “That is pyrite you imbecile!”

The crowd burst into conversation. Some laughed and others stated their opinions on the matter but your eyes stayed glued to the young professor. He watched you for a minute in response before turning to address the warden who was explaining his position to his lackeys. You moved closer so you could hear better, eager to learn more about the strange man who had appeared on the base. You had to admit, he was handsome but the pretty ones always brought trouble.

“Gentlemen, this is Professor Kim,” the warden introduced the young man to his group. They all nodded and introduced themselves in return but you didn’t bother to remember their names. “He is visitin’ us from a University overseas. Here to assist in discoverin’ where to best find the most valuable of Earth’s metals. He’s a . . . uhh. . . geographer or somethin’,” the warden explained. “Studies dirt and the like.”

“Geologist,” Professor Kim corrected. “A mining geologist to be specific. I study the extractions of mineral resources from the Earth.”

The group stared at him.

“Rocks,” he sighed, defeated. “I study rocks.”

A chorus of ‘Ahh’s’ broke out amongst the men. You stifled a laugh. You may not have traveled much but growing up in your father’s bookshop you had read a lot and even you knew what a geologist was.

“Regardless,” the warden continued, casting a dismissive hand in the Professor’s direction. “The higher ups seem hell bent on makin’ sure he makes progress in his work and comes out with as few - er - scratches as possible.”

Professor Kim tilted his head. “I would also very much appreciate that.”

“That being said,” the warden turned around looking over the crowd. “You there, boy!” The warden pointed in your direction. Surprised, you looked behind you. No one was there. You looked back at him, pointing at yourself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” the warden spat. “You’re to assist the professor during his time here. Make sure he has everythin’ he needs and most of all, make sure he stays out of trouble.”

The warden turned on his heel to leave, clearly believing the matter to be settled.

You chased after him, as the crowd began to disperse, struggling to maintain your composure and keep your cool. “Sir, with all due respect I need to be on the rive-”

“Look, boy, I don’t have time to deal with this. You heard my command,” He turned lowering himself closer to your face. He reeked of body odor and whiskey and you struggled not to cover your nose. “-and my command is law. You signed that there contract, you work for me. And I say: you’re to be assistin’ the professor for the rest of his time here, and that’s that.” He spun on his heel and was gone. In a few short minutes the crowd was fully gone, leaving only you and the young professor.

Defeated, you cursed under your breath, not sure what you had done to deserve this. You were supposed to be out here finding gold, getting rich, and starting a new life far away from your troubles in the East and now you were supposed to babysit some yippy foreign professor because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You finally turned to face Professor Kim. He raised an eyebrow in your direction and flashed a big smile, unaware the damage he was causing to your patience. He was tall, wearing a simple loose long sleeved white shirt tucked into snug pants. He had enough sense, it seemed, to leave behind the suit jacket and hat but had chosen to keep the suspenders. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Ever the gentleman.

“Look,” you addressed him directly for the first time. “I don’t have time to be your babysitter. I need to find some gold and get the hell out of this shithole. So, I’d appreciate it if you could keep yourself out of trouble.”

He sized you up, eyeing your garb with an intelligence that was completely different from the bumbling professor he had been mere minutes before. He raised his eyes to meet your own and you struggled to not falter under his gaze. His eyebrow quirked again, a sly smile on his lips. “You have quite the dirty mouth for a lady.”

You froze, fighting the urge to touch your cap. It’s still there, you’re okay. You could feel the wrappings on your chest and knew that they were intact as well. How did he . . .?

“I don’t know to what you are referring,” you kept your tone calm and cool.

“Don’t fret,” he responded, brushing off your glare. “I don’t think anyone else here has noticed.”

That did it. You grabbed his arm and pulled him along behind you, dodging the panners and workers that flitted about searching for the one thing that could make their lives less miserable. Finding a quiet alley between two tents you pushed him against the wall. The professor put his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Okay, talk,” you whispered. You were surrounded by chaos but who knew who may overhear. “How did you figure it out? Did someone tell you?” The minister’s wife?

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, no one told me. It’s just-”

You shook his shoulders, your brow furrowed. Here he was laughing when your future was literally at stake. “It’s just what?!”

He stopped laughing and looked at you. Really looked at you, his expression serious. “It’s just . . . you’re too pretty to be a boy. I could tell right away.”

Shocked, you released his arms and took a step back.

“It’s a miracle no one else has figured it out, really,” he continued. “Your walk is all wrong. You still walk like a lady, pretending there’s an invisible string that holds you up from your head. If you want to be believable, you have to walk pelvis first-” he demonstrated pushing his pelvis out and bending his knees before motioning at his stance “-like this.”

You snorted. “Well, it’s gotten me this far.”

“Well,” he replied, straightening himself up and brushing some dirt off his pants. It didn’t really help, he was still covered. “To be fair, you’re surrounded by idiots.”

You laughed. He was right there.

The professor held out his hand. “You can call me Namjoon.”

You looked at his outstretched hand for a second before relunctantly shaking it back.

“Y/N”

***

“So what is it you even do?” You asked bright and early the next morning. You had reported to Namjoon’s tent, as commanded, and stood there watching as he shoved some strange looking tools into his bag.

“My job,” he began, holding up a paintbrush. “Is to discover what minerals exactly are in the area around here and to learn as much about gold and how to find it as possible in the next few weeks.”

“And how,” you asked, watching him toss a few shovels into his bag. “Are you going to do that?”

“Well, my dear little guardian,” he tightened the latches on the bag and threw it over his shoulder, “why don’t you come along to find out?”

You followed him to a spot on the southern tip of a branch in the American river. From here the base appeared tiny and peaceful, the tents gently swaying in the breeze. It was another perfectly sunny day and you readjusted your cap to wipe the sweat off your brow as you struggled to keep up. The professor may have appeared slim and studious but clearly, the man had some muscle on his bones because he was booking it up the trail.

Namjoon stopped when he reached a curve in the river far away from the other panners and plopped his bag on the ground.

“What do you know about gold, Y/N?” he asked, unlatching the bag to pull out a pan.

“That you can sell it and get a lot of money.”

Namjoon laughed. It was a pleasant sound that held none of the malicious intent you sometimes heard in the laughter of other men. Namjoon’s laugh was carefree and seemed to convey true joy. You liked it.

“Aye, yeah. You can indeed sell it and get a lot of money. Especially nowadays.” He dipped the pan into the running water, scooping up some of the grit down at the bottom and beginning to sift through it. “I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about gold. Like, where it comes from?”

“Isn’t that your job?” You remarked, sitting on a rock beside him, careful to avoid wet spots. He was mesmerizing to watch, the way his hands dipped in and out of the water, his long fingers searching through the grit when he thought he saw something that caught his eye.

“Come on, Y/N, give me something to work with here.”

You sighed, giving in. “A lot of gold is found in water. It’s malleable, hence why the warden bit the stone yesterday to prove that it wasn’t gold. Uhhh . . . it’s yellow?”

Namjoon chuckled as he made a selection from his pan. He held it up so that you could see the reflective deep yellow surface. The sun bounced off the metal making it hard to look anywhere but the gold that Namjoon had found in literally ten minutes.

“This,” Namjoon began. “Is true gold. Do you know how I can tell?”

You shook your head. Namjoon turned the rock over in his hands.

“One, as you already said, hardness.” He took a nail and flecked off a piece of the small rock. “See how it just scraped off there? That’s a telltale sign.”

“Second, smell. Pyrite sometimes has a slight sulfur smell when rubbed. Gold will not.” He handed you the gold. You turned it over in your hands before bringing it to your nose and inhaling. Nothing.

You met Namjoon’s eyes. “Nothing.”

“Third,” he continued. “Shape. Gold, as you can see is a small malleable lump. Pyrite, like the one yesterday, is larger and more cube-like in structure. More impressive to look at but, less money when sold.”

You nodded and handed the gold back to Namjoon. “How much would you estimate that piece to be worth? If you had to take your best guess?”

“Well,” Namjoon began. “I’m no jeweler. I’m better at finding the minerals than pricing them but if I had to hazard a guess . . . .huh. . . It’s quite a few ounces, at least. Honestly, quite a nifty little chunk there. I’d say possibly upwards of $500?”

Your jaw dropped open. “$500?”

Namjoon shrugged. “I mean, it’s a guess.”

“Holy shit!” That was more money than your father made in three months. You would know, you helped with the books.

“Well, anyway, that’s gold.” Namjoon shoved the gem in his pocket and stood up.

You darted up after him. “Wait, a second! That’s it! What are you going to do with that? Give it to the warden?”

Namjoon smirked at you. “I don’t work for the warden. I’m going to keep it. I need it for research anyway, that’s why I brought you here. Now, we study it.”

You stared at him. Shocked that he could care so little for the fiscal amount of the stone in his pocket. Namjoon, oblivious as normal, merely scooped his belongings into his bag and motioned for you to follow. “Come along, Y/N. We have a long day of documenting ahead of us.”

***

Life as Namjoon’s assistant wasn’t the worst thing ever. Most days would start with you both checking specific points around the river for gold, pyrite, and other expensive minerals. He would bring along a sketchbook and draw the most interesting ones or make a list of the scenarios in which they were found. You followed suit and eventually took over this part of the job for him, since your drawing was exponentially better.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was fun work. Namjoon was great company and always had a variety of fun stories to tell. You couldn’t believe the places he’d been, the environment in which he had grown up, and the people he had met along the way.

“Y’know,” he said one day after finishing a story about a strange magician he had met on the streets of Singapore. He was bent over his desk, scribbling notes into a leather bound book. You were on the opposite side of the room, drawing some of the gold specimens you had gathered that day. The candles were low and the sun setting, providing a warm, evening glow inside the tent. You looked over at him, ink smudged on his chin and hair tousled from his messing. “You’ve had miraculous adventures yourself. Growing up in New York City? Traveling across the entire continent of North America, essentially alone, in search of a new future?” He looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes from across the room. “It’s pretty impressive stuff.”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact to continue your sketch. “Not really. It was just survival.”

“That’s all adventures are, really,” he murmured, returning to his work. “Surviving.”

***

It was late one evening and the camp had finally quieted down. Namjoon had fallen asleep hours ago covered in a blanket in his favorite chair next to the crackling fire while reading through some manuscripts. You were still awake, concentrating hard on a drawing you had started on a piece of pyrite the two of you had unearthed earlier. You were trying to get the cube like structure of the crystals perfect and it just wasn’t working.

Frustrated, you pressed too hard on your graphite snapping the tip. You flung it across the room with a noise of exasperation and nearly jumped out of your chair at the deep rumble of laughter that followed.

Your head turned to find Namjoon staring at you from across the room, his eyes half lidded with sleep and his hair in it’s permanently mussed state. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have brought you some tea.”

“I like watching you work. It’s . . .” he seemed to be searching for the right word. “Mesmerizing.”

You averted your eyes to the floor struggling to keep the blush that had crept up into your cheeks from his view. You hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim lighting. “I can’t imagine it’s all that interesting.”

“Believe me, it is.”

You met his eyes again and struggled to calm the rapid pace of your heart. When did Namjoon become so handsome? And why was he saying such things?

“Anyway,” you started, standing up from the desk. “It’s getting late and I should be getting to bed.”

“Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked, making to move.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t people find it strange that you’re walking your young male apprentice back to his tent late at night? Don’t want people to think you’re out here doing anything scandalous.”

He smiled at you. “Oh, I’m already a scoundrel in many ways, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer him but hid the smile it caused as you packed up your belongings and bid him farewell.

You pondered your relationship with him the entire walk across camp to your meager tent. With Namjoon, you could be yourself. He didn’t reprimand you for your use of ‘unladylike language’ or tell you to cross your legs when you sat. He also didn’t mind that you wore men's clothes or could outread him in a flat out race. He respected you enough to keep your secret and didn’t treat you any different when the two of you were alone in his tent, allowing you to assist in the work just as much as he.

It was amazing how fast acquaintances turned to friends in the West.

***

“I’m going into the mines today,” Namjoon announced one day, taking a long sip of his tea. He sat in a chair by his desk, flipping through one of his journals. You weren’t sure exactly what it was he was doing but you would be willing to bet money he was searching for some image of a cool rock you sketched a week ago.

“Why on earth would you willingly go into that shithole?”

Namjoon shot you a look before resuming his search. “That shithole, as you so eloquently put it, has apparently yielded some strange stone that the warden wants me to inspect. See if it’s worth any money.

You scoffed. Of course, the warden was searching for a profit, as usual. “Do you want me to come?”

Namjoon laughed. “Want? Yes. Need? No. You stay up here and keep checking the rivers for more pyrite or gold. See if you can find any more samples on the American. I won’t be long, and then I’ll join you.”

***

The hours passed slowly without Namjoon’s conversation. You didn’t think you would ever miss his incessant chatter about rocks and whatever cool facts he could spout on command, yet here you were. You were almost done checking the southernmost point of the American for any recent discoveries from the panners when the earth began to quiver.

You quickly gripped a nearby tree as the shaking intensified, small cracks breaking through the surface nearby. Men screamed as the earth let out another massive quake, and in the distance you could see the tents swaying back and forth. You had felt some minor earthquakes on your journey over, but nothing as huge as this.

In a few seconds the earth settled, resuming her quiet existence, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. You couldn’t wait to see Namjoon later and listen to him ramble on about tectonic plates and the earth’s molten core and whatever other nonsense you had grown fond of.

You stopped in your tracks. When had you grown fond of anything that ridiculous man did?

The realization of your feelings hit you like a wall and you barely moved out of the way in time as a group of men ran towards the camp.

“Hurry!” One of them shouts at you. “Pull yourself together, boy! The mine is collapsing! We need to get those people out!”

You blink, coming out of your stupor. The mine is collapsing?

Your eyes widened.

Namjoon is in the mine.

#bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #bts fanfiction #bts #namfine #series #kim namjoon #Admin Zesty #alternate universe #gold rush #motherlode

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

I Just Wanna Dance With You, 1/2 (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary:

Brooke and Vanessa work at the same strip club, and Brooke takes Vanessa under her wing to help her out. But when business at the club slows and Vanessa desperately needs money, they resort to a risky scam to stay afloat.

(Hustlers au)

A/N:

Hustlers au is here! I honestly came very close to writing this last year, but decided to do Mateo’s Eight instead. It was really fun to finally take this on, and there are a lot of people to thank for this one! First off, thanks to thackeryisatop for posting about this idea, and then to Ortega for nominating that I write it. They were both super encouraging and open of me taking on the idea, and I really appreciate it. Also, thank you so much to Writ for betaing and supporting me with all of this, especially because this fic is so different from what I normally write.

I’ll be honest here: writing smut is not my thing, so there WILL NOT be any explicit sexual content in this. I wanted the sexier aspects to be vague/implied and just parts of the overall vibe. This also does differ from the movie a bit—I streamlined certain parts of the plot and removed others entirely, so it won’t follow it exactly. Regardless, you don’t need to know the movie to read this. I really hope you enjoy, and I’d appreciate any feedback you have. I’ll have the second part out as quick as I can with school starting soon.

Title from Gimme More by Britney Spears.

—

Every night, Vanessa leaves A’keria and Silky in the noisy dressing room, settles herself among half-drunk business men that are sleaze wrapped in suits, and watches her.

Every eye in the place stays locked on the stage as Britney Spears trickles over the speakers and she emerges in a glittery red panty set that matches her lips perfectly, long legs encased in fishnets that make them even longer, show off the beauty beneath those thin strands of lace. She flips her blonde hair and drops into a split that makes the men cheer, bills fluttering like confetti.

The dim stage lights brighten in the face of someone worth watching, casting a golden glow as the woman grips the pole and spins herself around. Vanessa watches with the rest of the men, jealousy curling in her stomach as they throw fresh-from-the-ATM bills stamped with double digits and pictures of old men who were just as rich as they are. Bills they don’t give Vanessa.

The woman calls herself Destiny, though Vanessa knows it’s not her real name. With the way men let their money-stained hands linger on her pale skin as they tuck bills inside her fishnets, Vanessa doesn’t blame her for using a fake name. Hell, Vanessa uses a fake name, and she’s nowhere near as popular.

Destiny leaves the stage, blowing kisses to the men still cheering. She always heads to the roof of the club in between her performances and sessions in the private rooms, and tonight, Vanessa follows, chasing that magic and mystery of her, wanting tonight to be the night she finds out more.

Destiny gazes out at the city, looking more like a person out here than she does inside, where the stage makes her a goddess. In the night air, you could almost believe she’s human. Then that eyebrow raises as she takes in Vanessa, and she’s an angel again.

“Where’s your coat?” Destiny asks.

“Left it inside.” Vanessa shivers as chilly air hits her.

“Here.” Destiny opens up her coat, a massive faux fur thing big enough for both of them.

Vanessa slips inside, her arm searing where it presses against Destiny’s. She hopes Destiny can’t feel her heart racing. Destiny has always seemed untouchable, so effortlessly beautiful that it’s slightly intimidating, especially with how she finishes her makeup before anyone else and returns with fistfuls of cash. She’s a pro, an idol to the newer girls like Vanessa, and as much as Vanessa has wanted to talk to her, get close to her, she hasn’t quite worked up the nerve. But she has the courage now, and Destiny’s face is warm and kind as she huddles beside Vanessa.

“Did you like what you saw?”

“What?” Vanessa’s face warms, because even though A’keria and Silky tease her every night and warned her that Destiny would catch her spying eventually, she didn’t really believe them.

Red lips pull into a wicked smile. “Did you like what you saw? I always see you out there with your mouth wide open, you better hope no flies come in—“

“My mouth wasn’t open that wide,” Vanessa protests feebly.

“Uh-huh.” Destiny winks, actually winks, and Vanessa has to grip the edge of the building to stay upright.

“How do you do it?” She blurts.

“Do what?”

Vanessa sighs. “You make more in one number than I do all weekend. How do you do it?”

Vanessa needs that money, needs it more than she’d care anyone to know. And no matter how much she flips her hair and winks and smiles, the money just doesn’t come the way it does for Destiny. Vanessa wants to be bitter, but she can’t deny how much Destiny deserves what she gets. Vanessa just doesn’t understand why she can’t get it too, why bills fly for Destiny but have to be wrestled from sweaty hands for her.

Destiny bites her lip, lipstick so perfect it doesn’t even get messed up. “Vanjie, right?”

Vanessa nods. “My real name is Vanessa.” She’s not sure why she says it. Maybe because underneath that perfect makeup, she knows Destiny is trustworthy somehow. Or maybe because she just wants this woman to know her, know the real person she is beyond her makeup and boots and lacy gloves.

“Vanessa,” Destiny repeats, and the name seems more special on her lips. “To answer your question, I don’t know how I do it. It helps if you treat them like friends, I guess.”

Vanessa nods. It seems so simple, but she hasn’t mastered it, can’t think of clients as anything but clients whose money she needs to help her mom. “I wish I could,” she mutters.

Destiny sighs. “Look, you’re beautiful, Vanessa,” she says, and Vanessa’s stomach leaps. “And that’s what they want–an escape with a beautiful girl. They want the fun, and that’s what you have to give, not the reminder that you’re gonna pay your bills with their tips.”

Vanessa’s heart sinks. Destiny is right.

She looks at Vanessa with the brightest green eyes Vanessa’s ever seen, smooth yet sharp like pieces of sea glass. They’re a part of her you can’t get from the stage, something you can only see if you’re close enough to her. The real person, not the illusion. “I’ll tell you what. Can you come here early tomorrow?”

Vanessa nods.

Destiny smiles, and that smile, like everything else, lures Vanessa in. “Good. I’ll teach you.”

“Thanks, Des—“

“And call me Brooke.”

—-

Vanessa doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into when she walks into the club early the next night. It’s strange to be here during the day, the overhead lights revealing scuffs in the tables and the straws and trash littering the sticky floor. The illusion is gone, and the club is just a cold room rather than the warm fantasy it promises at night.

Brooke is in leggings and a white tank top that shows off the firm muscles peeking beneath her skin. She’s softer somehow, gentler without the hard rhinestones and blinding glitter she’s usually armored in.

“Hey, Vanessa,” Brooke says.

“Hey.”

“You ready?”

Vanessa nods firmly. “There won’t be a test or anything after, right? I’m not so good at tests.”

“There might be.” Brooke gives a mischievous wink and points to a black chair right before the stage. “Sit there. I’m gonna do one of my routines for you. Watch me, okay? Watch how I dance just for you, like me and you are the only ones here.”

“Me and you are the only ones here.” Vanessa grins, swallowing hard against the idea of them being alone.

Brooke rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. It’s just us here now, and you want every client to feel like it’s just you and them.”

Vanessa nods, and then Brooke takes the stage. She shakes out her arms and stretches her long legs, grips the pole, and begins.

The change is jarring–she’s not Brooke anymore; she’s Destiny, both the person and the thing itself, the thing mesmerizing men and making them want to spend hundreds on her, because she’s their destiny. She’s equal parts danger and dangerous, a lit cigarette just begging you to take hold and breathe her in, even if you know it’s wrong.

Watching her this close, Vanessa is mesmerized. If she had money, she would throw every cent on the stage, but it’s more than that. It’s the way each movement is light and delicate, the way she holds you in her gaze and smiles right at you, the way she rests a hand on Vanessa’s shoulder and makes her shiver. Vanessa wants to reach out and touch her, pull her into bed and sleep beside her, all because of this dance.

“Now, these are moves for the pole, okay?” Brooke’s voice snaps Vanessa out of her dream.

She does her best to focus as Brooke shows her the different grips and spins, coaching her to smile and shake her hair through them all.

“What if I don’t have muscles?” Vanessa asks, pointing to her arms. They’re not flabby, but there’s no way in hell she can pull herself up like Brooke.

“You have muscles!” Brooke insists.

“I don’t.”

Suddenly Brooke’s hand is in hers, pulling her onstage. “Come on, you try,” Brooke coaxes. “I’ll spot you. You won’t fall, I promise.” The danger is gone and she’s just Brooke now, and Vanessa trusts the promise even if it might burn her later.

She grips the pole and pulls herself up, following Brooke’s orders to point her toes and smile as she spins around, and she’s flying. She’s a fairy flying through the air, drunk on Brooke’s smile and flashing her own to the invisible crowd.

With a burst of courage, Vanessa climbs, shimmying and twisting her way up, muscles burning. Brooke’s hands are waiting below, strong and sturdy and just waiting to catch her, and some part of Vanessa wants to fall and let those hands do what they’re waiting for. Let those hands touch her and hold her tight. But she also wants to make Brooke proud, show her she can do this, and Vanessa pulls herself up with a massive grunt.

“Lose the grunt at the end and you’re golden,” Brooke praises as Vanessa slides down, steadying hands cupping Vanessa’s hips and making her heart skip a beat.

“Will do.” They perch themselves on the edge of the stage, and Vanessa watches her legs swing a much shorter arc than Brooke’s and can’t help but smile.

“Were you at any clubs before this?” Brooke asks.

“No. This is my first … y’know … job.”

Brooke nods.

“I never really planned on this,” Vanessa continues. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it! I just–I have a day job, and my mom is sick and outta work, so she lost her work insurance, and I started doing this to get more money to cover her treatments.”

“I get it,” Brooke says. “Sorry to hear about your mom.”

“Thanks.” Vanessa sighs. She’s glad Brooke didn’t pry, because she’s sick of talking about her mom’s illness, sick of thinking about it and how it might take her mom away from her. She wants to focus on Brooke instead, because Brooke takes the weight of it all off Vanessa’s shoulders somehow. “What about you? You’ve been here a while, right?”

“You saying I look old?” Brooke teases.

“No, no! Just that you’re so good,” Vanessa says quickly.

“Nice save.” Brooke smiles, though it quickly turns to a frown. “I, uh, I used to dance with the city ballet. You hit 25 in ballet, and you’re basically ancient. I left the company five years ago and decided to keep dancing, make some good money.”

Vanessa nods, because Brooke’s toned muscles and delicate grace make sense now, another piece of the puzzle that adds up to her. And this close to Brooke, intoxicated by her perfume and the soft curves of her shoulder, Vanessa wants to find more pieces.

“Think we can do this again tomorrow?” Vanessa asks.

Brooke grins. “You got it.”

—-

Nina marches over to Brooke’s station like a woman on a mission. She’s the only decent one of the club’s owners, and would happily take things over herself if she could get the other owners to give up control. She’s a mother to the girls, always ready with a listening ear, and the click of her heels over the tile is comforting, a sound everyone counts on when they need help.

“Am I hearing things, or have you made a friend?”

Brooke sighs. “Well …“

“Brooke made a friend! Kam, Pri, Brooke made a friend!”

Kameron and Priyanka crowd around Brooke’s station, whispering in excitement. Brooke groans and hides her face in her hands.

“A friend, and she’s not even imaginary?” Priyanka squeals. “I’m so proud of you, Brookie!”

“I didn’t think I’d see the day you made friends besides us,” Kameron says.

“You’re one to talk,” Brooke shoots back. “Have you texted little Miss Asia yet—“

“Yeah, you never shut up about her,” Priyanka says.

“That’s enough of that.” Kameron quickly returns to her makeup, and Priyanka follows, using the opportunity to make fun of Kameron instead.

Brooke sighs, finally facing Nina’s broad grin. “Look, I think Vanessa’s nice. She—she reminds me of myself, when I started. Figured I’d give her some tips, look out for her.”

“You mean look at her.”

“Nina,” Brooke whines. She’s had her eye on Vanessa since she started here, she’ll admit that. Vanessa is absolutely beautiful, one of the most beautiful women Brooke’s ever seen. There’s real joy and passion in her, the kind you can’t teach, can’t really find in many people. Vanessa is a breath of fresh air over dirty money and sickly-sweet liquor, and Brooke’s had more fun with her than she has in a while. She wants to help Vanessa, make sure she keeps herself safe from the darker aspects of the club and uses the lighter parts to her advantage. Make sure she doesn’t lose that joy. Brooke’s just helping, that’s all.

“I’m just teasing, Brooke,” Nina says fondly, rolling her eyes. “It’s good that you’re getting to know her. She seems great, from what I’ve seen.”

“She is.” Vanessa really is, and Brooke can’t help but marvel at how quickly she picked up Brooke’s steps, how beautiful and free she is in her routines.

Not that Brooke has feelings for her or anything. She’s just helping.

—

Brooke decides to give Vanessa the lowdown at their next practice. Her knowledge of clients is based on years of collecting information, from each leather wallet pulled from a tailored suit to each set of eyes that seek to own her. She knows how things at the club work, and when you know the rules, you can play the game.

“There are three levels of clients,” she explains to Vanessa. “The ones at the bottom are so desperate for power, to be on top, that they’ll break out hundreds if you smile. Guys in the middle are… in the middle. They don’t do much one way or another.”

Vanessa nods, eyes wide as she waits for the rest. Brooke can’t help the thrill in her heart at having Vanessa’s eyes on nothing but her, soaking in her every word. Part of Brooke has always liked the thrill and rush of attention, whether on a fancy theatre stage in silk or a sticky club stage in fishnets. But the thrill is that more intense and intoxicating in the form of Vanessa, in the form of letting someone close to her, close enough to know her name and not the persona she creates.

“The ones on top—they’re the ones who blow thousands a night and it doesn’t even make a dent. They have a private entrance, but even if they got caught, they’d never see the consequences. They want attention, want you to show off for them. They’ll treat you like dirt but pay you like you’re gold, and you can milk them for every cent they’re worth. That’s where the real money is.”

Brooke has found her success, found a nice apartment with more than enough space for her and her cats, found security in her life, all from the bills those men in the top tier slide her way. With practice, Vanessa can get that same success.

Vanessa nods again. “I think I always get the middle guys. They all look the same. Like someone copy-pasted them or somethin’.”

Brooke snorts loudly, a far cry from the gentle laughs she does for her clients. This is her real laugh, one that hardly anyone can wrestle from her.

“Hey,” Vanessa says suddenly, “do you have time to get coffee? Then we can talk somewhere nicer than this.”

Brooke just smiles.

—

The more Vanessa watches Brooke, the more tiny signs of the real her poke through her mask of makeup and confidence. There’s the way she starts chewing on a cuticle, before looking at her manicured black nails and immediately stopping, or how she spills some coffee over the edge of her mug after an enthusiastic nod. It’s like getting a peek behind the curtain, and Vanessa is going to treasure each glimpse she can get.

It’s nice to be here and just talk to Brooke, free of dazzling lights. At the club, there’s idle gossip in the dressing room, and it’s fun, but it’s not personal. It’s a way to pass the time between numbers and client sessions, to laugh before they go out there. But now she gets to just talk to Brooke without interruptions, her heart racing with each of Brooke’s smiles.

“You said you had another job, right?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa nods.

“So, what do you do?”

“I do makeup at a department store. I like it, you know? Getting to talk to people, make them feel good.” Vanessa smiles to herself at the thought of all the clients that have sat in her makeup chair, their grins at how confident they felt after her help. “The pay is okay, but not enough for things like medical bills.”

“I get it,” Brooke says. “I’m glad you like it, though.”

“Yeah. Once I get enough money here, I should be good with just that job.” Vanessa pauses, glancing over the strange look of sadness on Brooke’s face that quickly disappears. Is Brooke sad about the idea of her leaving, or something else? Brooke doesn’t talk too much about herself, but Vanessa wants to know more about the old Brooke that used to dance, and maybe she’ll talk. “Did you have any jobs besides ballet?”

“No.” Brooke takes a sip of coffee. “I went right from that to this, and the pay’s been enough that I don’t need anything else. Don’t really know what I’d do anyway.”

Brooke still seems a little upset, and Vanessa decides not to press anymore. She really can’t see Brooke doing anything else, if she’s being honest. There’s just something about the way she moves, like the whole world aligns and stops for a moment when she’s dancing. It’s magical, and Vanessa’s heart leaps just at the thought. She changes the conversation to the cat she’s thinking of getting, and things are okay.

—

It’s a week later that Vanessa gets her first top-tier client. From what Brooke’s taught her, Vanessa is getting better at recognizing them. Every inch of their outfit is expensive, from coat to shoes. Their walk is firm and confident like they own the place. And they hold out hundreds with the casual air of a dollar bill.

She walks past the hall’s dim red floor lights, each one illuminating a plain black door. Vanessa takes a breath before the room she’s using and reminds herself to be like Brooke, to give the man attention, like he’s the only one she’s doing this for, even if she’s already done it tonight. Vanessa walks in, and she walks out with over a thousand dollars.

Rinse and repeat.

—

“It’s working, huh?”

Vanessa looks up from the stack of bills she’s struggling to stuff into her knee-high black boots. Brooke stands next to her, grinning smugly, while Brooke’s friend–Vanessa’s pretty sure the redhead with the muscles and tattoos is Kameron–grins behind her, giving Brooke a push until she bumps into Vanessa.

Vanessa laughs as Brooke swats Kameron away and turns back to her. “It sure is working,” Vanessa says. “Got so much money I can’t even get it in my boots.”

“Can I help?”

Vanessa nods, and then one of Brooke’s hands curves around the back of her knee, the other carefully unzipping her boot. Vanessa doesn’t breathe as the zipper slides down and Brooke delicately arranges bills around her calf, soft fingertips brushing over her skin. She’s close enough that Vanessa can smell her perfume, close enough to grab Brooke and maybe kiss her–the zipper screeches back into place, and Vanessa straightens up.

“Thanks,” Vanessa says, trying to remember how to breathe.

“No problem.”

“Damn, Vanj,” A'keria mutters, open-mouthed in the chair beside Vanessa. “Destiny needs to teach us all how to get that coin.”

Silky nods, swinging her hairspray in excitement. “Miss Destiny’s Stripper School. I’d sign up.”

Vanessa shushes them and finishes getting ready. Brooke winks at her after she’s done, and Vanessa pretends her next lap-dance is Brooke.

—

It happens fast.

One day, Brooke hears some news report coming from Kameron’s phone, a guy in a suit talking about fiscal collapse and crisis and economy again and again. Say economy three times, and a middle-aged white man in a business suit will appear like Beetlejuice. It’s all they ever talk about, and Brooke doesn’t think much of it, just goes to work and comes back with her usual wad of cash she had to mop off the stage floor.

A few nights later, there are empty seats in the club. When the music stops, it’s quiet enough to hear ice cubes clinking in glasses, hear the rustle of the one or two single-digit bills they hand her.

Brooke walks off stage in confusion. For the first time in over a year, her wad of tips is slim enough to fit in one hand. She heads straight to Nina’s office, where Nina is running a hand through her messy hair and drinking from a bottle of wine.

“What the hell is going on, Nina?” Brooke asks. “It’s totally dead out there.”

Nina sighs. “It’s the stock market. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but stocks are down, apparently, and those Wall Street business men aren’t coming anymore.”

“Are we … we’re not gonna close, are we?” Brooke’s stomach is twisting in knots just at the thought of losing all this. The same knot that had formed when Vanessa said she would leave after she had enough money, because Vanessa has quickly become one of Brooke’s favorite parts of the club, a part she doesn’t want to lose. But she might lose it all depending on what Nina tells her.

“No.” Nina takes another swig of wine. “We’re staying open, but your tips won’t be like they usually are. The real rich ones will still come in, but I doubt they’ll spend as much.”

“I–” Brooke shakes her head, needing to get out of here. It’s too stuffy in here, the wine burning her nose and the bright office lights burning her eyes. She runs to the roof, the coolness clearing her head and allowing some air to reach her lungs.

What is she supposed to do now? Brooke joined the strip club because it made sense–it gave her a performing outlet without the constant body aches from ballet, a chance to use the dancing ability she had trained decades to perfect. A way to keep the thrill of performing, the love of a crowd, when she couldn’t be on a theatre stage anymore. She can’t walk away from this, try to find whatever minimum wage job will hire someone whose place of employment for the last five years can’t go on a resume. She’s wondering if she’ll have enough saved up to weather the next however-many months when the roof door slams, and hoarse sobs arise.

Vanessa.

Brooke immediately forgets her problems and runs to Vanessa, who’s shaking with sobs. She wants to wrap Vanessa in a hug, let her arms circle that soft skin, but she stops herself. Touch is something they do all night. They touch bills and stripper poles and men, everything washed away with the apricot soap Nina stocks the bathroom with. But if Brooke were to touch Vanessa, it would be different from touching a client. More personal. And Brooke knows she won’t erase that touch no matter how much she scrubs her hands.

Instead, she pulls Vanessa to the edge of the building, uselessly whispering that it’s okay, even if she knows it’s not. When Vanessa is finally able to talk, she looks up at Brooke with bloodshot eyes burning with exhaustion and sorrow, and again Brooke wants to hug Vanessa and let her rest inside her arms.

“I’m guessing you heard,” Brooke prompts.

Vanessa nods. “What am I gonna do, Brooke?” she cries. “I was starting to make a lot of money, but it’s not enough. I–I don’t have enough to help my mom, and if she doesn’t get her meds and everything then she’ll …” A fresh sob erupts from Vanessa, and Brooke doesn’t hesitate this time. She pulls Vanessa into her arms and gently rubs her back as she cries. Vanessa is real and solid, realer than anything the club offers. She smells like coconut and Brooke wonders when she started liking that scent so much. Wonders when she started liking Vanessa so much, because she can’t deny it anymore. But Vanessa doesn’t need that now; she needs help.

Brooke selfishly hadn’t even thought of Vanessa and her mom when she first heard the news. Now, she has to accept how bad things are, what might happen to Vanessa’s mom without the money Vanessa needs. The money she can’t get anymore. If only they could take that money that the really rich Wall Street guys still have and give it to Vanessa and the other girls somehow …

But maybe they can.

The wheels in Brooke’s head are spinning, weaving together a plan. It’s risky, sure, but they don’t have a choice. They all have bills to pay. Some of them have relatives to care for and medication to buy, and hell, just normal lives to live. Brooke might lose her home depending on how long this lasts. The other girls might lose theirs too, might even lose their jobs if it comes to that. And Vanessa will almost surely lose her mom. Vanessa always talks about her with such love in her eyes, with such joy in the memories of the two of them cooking or dancing together. She doesn’t deserve to lose that. Brooke has to do something.

“Hey, Vanessa,” Brooke says gently, “I think I have an idea.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #nina west #kameron michaels #priyanka #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #branjie #lesbian au #hustlers au #implied smut #i just wanna dance with you #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

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🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 022 [Winchester’s Starting Line]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 3,282

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“You know you’re fighting in a losing battle, Making a noose out of your hollow crown. I hold a match up to your paper castle, and watch it all burn down.” Ellie Goulding, “Hollow Crown”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The smoke cleared and the boss was on the other end of the room, his body embedded in the back wall. The male standing in front of me was breathing heavily, sword poised in front of him in both hands. Wait, I recognize that mop of green hair!

“Izuku?”

He glanced over his shoulder, giving me a nervous smile. “H-Hi, Jen-san.” He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt under a green vest. His hands were covered by gloves and he wore a brown utility belt around his waist, legs covered by blue pants. He’s also a swordmaster.

“Deku?! What the fuck are you doing here?!” Bakugo yelled, stomping over to the boy.

“U-Um, I… you looked like… you n-needed help…”

“Hah?! As if I’d ever need help from a nerd like you!”

“You say that, but Winchester would have been a goner if he hadn’t stepped in when he did.” Iida approached the two, dressed in a suit of armor, his helmet tucked under his arm. He’s the knight class.

“That’s her fault for being a fucking weakling!”

“Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes, coughing again.

“Don’t worry, Jen, I can heal you!” Ochaco smiled brightly as she kneeled beside me, dressed in a short tan dress with a red hood over her head. Black leggings covered her legs, disappearing into brown boots. She carried a wooden staff, her right hand wearing a red glove. She’s the mage class. Ochaco hovered her hand above my stomach and it started to glow purple before my health shot up. “There, all better!”

“Thanks,” I pulled myself to my feet, dusting off my pants.

Iida snapped his gaze to me. “Why are you here? You’re not even level fifty yet!”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m half a pubic hair from being fifty. Fuck you.”

His cheeks burned. “E-Either way, this area is far too advanced for you! Show some responsibility for your actions.”

“You know, you really fucking piss me off, Prep.”

“P-Prep? My name is -!”

“I don’t fucking care,” I scoffed. “Oi, Bakuhoe. You got five minutes to finish this bitch off before I call it quits. I’m fuckin’ hungry and now in a bad mood.”

“Che, don’t tell me what to do!” He turned his back to me. “Let’s go, shitty hair!”

“Right!” Kirishima blew smoke from his nose.

Izuku and Iida joined the fight, while Ochaco stuck close to me with a magical shield up in case the boss decided to attack me again. Ten minutes passed and Kirishima dealt the finishing blow with a swipe of his clawed hand. Or is it a paw? Dragons don’t have paws right? Feet? But that makes me think of the back legs not the front.

As the boss shattered, an annoying jingling started to go off in my ear like I had just won the fucking jackpot on a slot machine. My level shot through the roof, jumping from forty-nine to seventy-nine. My body feels lighter, stronger, and now I have a shit ton of power points to assign again. For fuck’s sake.

Kirishima’s body started to shrink back to human form and he fell back onto his ass, a bright grin on his face. “I can’t believe we did it! You’re super strong, Midoriya!”

The greenette flushed at the praise, not missing Bakugo’s glare. “N-No, I’m really not -”

“Of course he is!” Iida pushed up his glasses. “Not only is he max level, but he also has the legendary Allmiber!”

Allmiber? What, is that the fucking love child of All Might and Excalibur?

“How the fuck did you hit max level?! And where the fuck did you get the most OP weapon in the damn game?!” Bakugo demanded, trying to grab the front of Izuku’s shirt, but the anti-PVP system prevented him from doing so.

“That’s so cool!” Kirishima jumped to his feet, eyes sparkling. “Only five people in the entire game have managed to find Allmiber!”

“And you, shitty hair!” Bakugo’s vermillion eyes snapped to the red-head, pointing an angry finger at his face. “How the fuck are you a Dragonling?!”

“What’s a Dragonling?” Ochaco whispered from behind me.

Izuku answered, his eyes shining. “Dragonlings are the rarest race in the whole game! They can’t be chosen or even bought, you can only get it as a drop from a powerful boss. The drop rate itself is only .01% and the drop location changes every week. They say that Dragonlings are unbeatable because of their massive health bars and insane defense and armor. They’re also the only race in the game that can change their forms in battle! Their dragon forms have been called the gods of the game! Did you know that the creator -”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, sweatdropping as he continued to ramble on about the game. A simple, ‘it’s rare!’ woulda been fine, ya know. But Ochaco and Iida are listening intently to him, as usual, nodding their head every few words.

Kirishima laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just killing some scarecrows for a quest and it dropped.”

“You got a Dragonling from a fucking level five quest?! I’ll kill you!”

My lips tugged down as I watched the two groups interacting with each other. Why do I feel a sudden pang in my heart? I cursed, turning toward the exit portal that had opened up after the boss with destroyed. It took me back to town and I quickly logged out of the game, pulling myself off the wooden floor and turning the console off. I can still hear Bakugo screaming over the phone and I hesitated.

Should I say something? I decided I didn’t want to bother them and just ended the group call without a word, glancing at the clock. Nine-thirty.

The front door opened and closed, Toshi stepped into the living room looking tired and ragged. He smiled when he saw me. “Hello, young Jen. What would you like me to make for dinner?”

I grunted, pushing past him before he could step into the kitchen. “I wanna work on my cooking skull. You don’t mind, yeah?”

He sent me a confused look, but it soon melted to one of warmth. “That’s fine with me. I’m guessing tacos since I lifted the ban?”

“Nah. I’m in the mood for some curry.”

“Oh…” he shifted in the doorway, watching me closely. “Is anything bothering you?”

I sent him a small smile. “I spent all day playing an RPG with Bakugo, so I’ve just got a bit of headache.”

He sweatdropped. “That’ll do it. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

My smile dropped as soon as the bathroom door closed. To be honest, I don’t really know why I’m suddenly feeling so… isolated and down, I guess? I don’t wanna worry him, especially when I don’t even technically know what my problem is. Thinking about it, a lot of time has passed since I came to this world, since I started at U.A.

While everyone else has been forging friendships, I’ve been too damn busy keeping people at a distance. I haven’t made any efforts at all. Bakugo only asked me to play with him because he had no one else, but now he knows that the golden trio and Kirishima also play. They don’t need a low level to babysit that knows nothing about the game.

I groaned, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “Why is this bothering me? Get a grip.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

My phone buzzed for the millionth time and I sighed, opening my messages. From Bakugo:

‘Where the fuck did u go?’

‘Oi, fuckin answer me’

‘…somethings wrong aint it?’

‘Stop fucking ignoring me!’

And from a number I didn’t recognize:

‘Hey Winchester! Got ur number from Bakugo!’

‘This is Kirishima btw’

‘Whyd u log out so suddenly? Everything ok?’

‘That sword u got is really cool btw, it costs a million gold!’

My brow furrowed. Why did he give my number to Kirishima? Why’d he want it in the first place? Are they really worried about me? And that sword… why did Bakugo give me something that’s worth so damn much? I don’t understand anything.

I sighed, throwing my phone onto the couch before plopping down onto the floor so I could put my sneakers on. I heard shuffling behind me as Toshi walked quietly down the hall, pausing when he noticed me.

“Young Jen, you’re up early!”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Toshi.”

“You’re never awake when I leave in the mornings.” He commented, sliding his feet into the over-sized loafers. He suddenly grinned, his body expanding as he took on his muscle form. “Shall I carry you to school today? Ahahaha!”

I rolled my eyes as I pushed the door open. “I’m not a kid, but I’m sure Izuku would take you up on that offer, though.”

He laughed again, closing and locking the door. “I’m sure he would! By the way, I wanted to thank you for befriending young Midoriya. I feel more at ease knowing that you’re there to watch his back.”

“I’d hardly call myself his friend,” I muttered under my breath.

“Hm? What was that?”

“I said you’re welcome.”

He smiled brightly, slapping my shoulder. “Be safe on your way to school, young Jen!” He kneeled down, kicking off the ground as he took to the sky. I waited until he was out of sight before starting to walk, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

It was still dark outside, the neighborhood peaceful as the residents slept. Crickets chirped tiredly in the distance, pausing when the wind blew through the trees. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always found solace in the darkness. I’ve always been a night owl, preferring to be awake through the night rather than during the day. Maybe it’s because I hate the sun, or maybe it’s because there are fewer people around at night… I don’t really know the reason. This little strip of time before the sun starts to rise makes me feel at peace.

I took my time walking to school and the sun was just starting to glare over the horizon as I walked through the archway, casting shades of orange and purple across the sky. It was beautiful, sure, but I ain’t fond of the sun.

I entered the school building, heading for class 1-A. The room was empty and, for a minute, I just stood in the doorway. It felt weird without the loud chatter of the other students. It was eerie, like I had just stepped into an alternate dimension or some shit.

“Fuckin’ creepy,” I muttered, flicking on the light before heading to my desk. What do I do now? I left my phone behind, so I can’t play any games. I guess I could work on my homework… I started it last night but couldn’t concentrate so I ended up giving up and going to bed. Scrunching my nose up, I grabbed my notebook and the worksheets we had been given and got to work.

The door slid open a few minutes later and I glanced up, meeting surprised heterochromatic eyes. I returned my gaze to my notebook, where I was working on a doodle of Deadpool wearing a taco hat. At least he ain’t glaring at me, but the day is still young.

The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as he sat at his desk. He was quiet for a moment before speaking up, almost hesitantly. “Good morning,”

I raised a brow at him, but he was staring down at his desk. “Uh… sure.”

“Are you all healed up?”

“Yeah,”

“That’s good,” he nodded his head, pulling his notebook from his bag. “Does my voice really keep you calm?”

I nearly snapped my pencil, a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek. Damn, talk about being blunt. I cleared my throat, “Why are you even talkin’ to me?”

His eyes met mine, growing wide. “Should I not be?”

I shrugged. “You’ve always seemed perfectly content just glaring at me.”

Peppermint quickly looked away, his hair covering his eyes. “I’m sorry. You just… remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

He was silent for a moment and I figured he wasn’t going to answer. When he finally did, his voice was like ice. “My father,”

I raised a brow, humming. So a pretty boy with daddy issues, huh? Interesting. “Right. Good to know I remind you of an old man.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he mumbled, his cheeks gaining some color. “Will you answer my question now?”

“Yes, you have a calming voice. Happy?” I sighed, turning back to my notebook. Man, I accidentally stabbed Deadpool in the face.

The door slid open again and Fumi stepped inside, tilting his head as his eyes met mine. He approached my desk with a smile. “Good morning, Jen-san.”

“Sup, Fumi.”

“You’re usually one of the last to arrive. It’s quite alarming to see you here so early.”

“Sheesh, a girl tries to be a diligent student and everyone thinks the world is comin’ to an end.” I grinned, leaning back in my chair. “I wanted to try somethin’ new, but don’t worry, I hate it and won’t be doing it again.”

He chuckled, his eyes scanning my notebook. “You did this problem wrong,”

“Heh?” I glanced at the math problem he was pointing at. “Fuck math,”

“If you’d like, I can give you a hand.”

“For sure, thanks Fumi. The last thing I need is a lecture from Ectoplasm about not paying attention in his class.”

He nodded toward the pencil. “May I?”

“Go for it,” I watched as he scribbled down a number on the corner of the page.

“You can message me anytime you find yourself stuck and I will do my best to assist you.”

“Yeah, I will.” I smiled at him. “Thanks, Fumi.”

He nodded, returning the smile before heading to his desk. I caught Peppermint’s gaze but he quickly looked away. What’s his deal today?

Students slowly started to filter into the room and the silence morphed into loud chatter. In a way, their loud natures is annoying as all hell, but… I think I prefer it over the alternative.

“Wait, who are you?”

I glanced up at the sound of Alien’s voice, seeing Rin standing in the doorway. What’s he doing here?

He bowed, offering a kind smile. “My name is Hiryuu Rin from class 1-B next door. I’m looking for Winchester,”

Her eyes fell on me, half-hidden behind Momo. I stood up and approached him, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. I could already hear her excited whispers. I swear if she starts spreading some stupid shit… I brought Rin to the stairway, which only had a few students passing by. As soon as I turned toward him, his arms were thrown around my neck, my body tensing at the contact.

“Uhh…”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He spoke with a voice full of emotion, his grip tightening around me. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest. “I heard about the attack, about two students being seriously injured along with Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen-sensei. I came to see you yesterday, to see if you were okay, but your entire class was gone. I was so worried about you, Winchester!”

My body relaxed as I wrapped my arms around him, gently rubbing his back. “The faulty thought it would be a good idea if we took a day off after the attack. Me and Izuku were a bit reckless, but it ain’t a big deal.”

“‘A bit reckless’?” He pulled back, eyes narrowed in frustration and worry. “You could’ve been killed.”

“I didn’t think you cared that much,” I muttered, scratching my cheek as I glanced to the side.”

“You’re my friend, of course, I care!” He sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. “You’re okay, that’s what matters.”

My heart skipped a beat, my chest growing warm as my lips curled up. My hand rested on his head. “I’m sorry I worried you, Rin.”

“Call me Hiryuu.”

“Only if you call me Jen.”

“Deal,” he grinned.

“Hey, Rin! Class is gonna start soon!” An orange-haired girl smiled at us as she walked by with a girl that looked like she just stepped out of My Little Pony.

“Be right there, Kendo!” He called before turning back to me, pulling his phone out of his bag. “Can we exchange numbers?”

“Oh, uh, sure. I forgot my phone at home, though, so I’ll text you back after I get home.” I gave him my number and we parted ways, entering our own classrooms. Two numbers in one day? You’re turning into a player, girl. My good mood fizzled a bit when I entered class 1-A, eyes locking with angry vermillion.

“Morning, Winchester!” Kirishima grinned. “Last night was so much fun, let’s play again sometime!”

“Ooh~ What did you two do last night?” Alien asked, clapping her hands excitedly. “And who was that boy? Is he your boyfriend, Winchester?”

Satan, grant me the strength I need to not kill anyone today. “No, he’s just a friend.” I ignored her disappointed pout as I headed for my desk. I was almost there when a hand grabbed my shoulder roughly. Green met vermillion as we stared at each for a moment.

“You didn’t fucking answer my messages,” Bakugo’s voice was surprisingly calm as he gauged my reaction.

“I fell asleep after getting offline,” I lied, keeping my expression blank.

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer when you woke up, then?”

“Forgot my phone,”

“Stop fucking lying to me!”

I grunted, pulling myself from his grip and plopping down at my desk. Why do I suddenly feel so guilty about lying? Why did I even lie in the first place? It had been an instant reaction, I didn’t even consider it. We’re not even friends. He just tolerates me because I do the same for him.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance before stomping back to his desk.

“Hey, you guys! Did you watch the news?” Invisigirl asked, excitedly. “It was so cool that we got a few seconds of screen time. Though I bet nobody noticed me hanging out in the background…”

“Probably not,” Octo agreed.

Tail sweatdropped. “It is difficult to stand out when you’re just gloves…”

“We’re totally big deals.” Sparky’s voice was full of arrogance. “Those news channels love us, we’re basically celebrities!”

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy, right?”

“Get over yourselves. The hero course that pumps out pros was attacked and that’s what they care about.”

“Who knows what woulda happened to us if the teachers hadn’t shown up.”

“Death. That’s what woulda happened.” I commented, dryly.

“Why’d you say that?!” Grape freaked out, his eyes full of tears. “I’m gonna pee myself just thinking about it!”

My lip curled back in disgust. Why is this fucking brat even in the hero course? I’ve seen more heroism from a fucking cockroach.

“Ah, shut up! Grow a pair, loser!!”

“Did you guys see All Might fighting the bird guy? That guy was super strong and he still destroyed him!”

“Yes, his strength is truly a thing of wonder.”

“Attention! Homeroom class is about to begin! Everyone stop talking and take your seats!” Iida ordered as he stood at the front of the room.

“Uh, we’re all sitting.”

“You’re the only one standing.”

Iida fell into his chair, body shaking. “Dang it,”

“Don’t sweat it,” Ochaco smiled. She’s honestly too precious for this world.

The door slid open and a heavily bandaged Aizawa appeared. His face was still covered, and both arms were in slings across his chest. “Good morning, class.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

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Chapter 5: One Month

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which it’s their anniversary, but Harry messes up.

Warning: poorly written smut and angst that literally nobody asked for.

Word count: 4.3k

Chapter 4: False Alarm - Their cat’s gone missing, and Y/N doesn’t know what to do.

Wattpad link

ANNOUNCEMENT: After this chapter (and the new My Girl chapter), I'll take 2 weeks off because of finals. I'll be back on July 1! I'm gonna miss you guys so much! :( - Allie.

"Wow, I can't believe you two have been married for a month."

"Neither can I," Y/N told Stephanie as she poured tea for them both, but in reality, what she wanted to say was, "I can't believe you and Mason are still married." It had only been thirty minutes, but she already wanted this to be over. Neither of them was into setting up a playdate for their cats. But if they didn't, Tiger and Treasure would run away together like last time, and Y/N didn't want another heart attack.

"So are you doing anything special tonight?" Stephanie questioned, but her eyes were glued to her phone. Not that Y/N complained though. She didn't even want to have this conversation. Watching their cats running around the room was more entertaining than talking to Stephanie.

"Just a nice little dinner. It's been our tradition for five years." She grinned and took a sip of tea, thinking the silence was here to stay, yet once again, she was wrong.

"So, how's it going with the CEO life?" Stephanie asked again, looking slightly more interested this time as she glanced up from her phone. "When are you gonna move to a big mansion and have babies?"

"Not...anytime soon?" Y/N chuckled nervously. She'd been trying not to think about her not being able to get pregnant. Thank you, Stephanie, for rubbing salt to the wound. But she was glad when Stephanie decided to drop the pregnancy topic to talk about Harry.

"I haven't seen him in a while so I guess he's busy, huh?"

"He is, yeah. It's basically starting over again when they moved the whole company to London."

Stephanie stuck out her bottom lip, nodding her head to show that she was impressed, and continued with another question, "you guys still have sex, right?"

Y/N froze entirely as she heard this one. She hadn't thought much about their sex life but now that Stephanie had brought it up, it occurred to her that they hadn't had sex in a while. Harry always stayed at the office until midnight and came home when she was already asleep. She couldn't blame him though. He'd been taking in a lot of responsibility, but he'd promised her that in a couple of months, the company would go up, and he wouldn't have to overwork anymore. Still, she missed their passionate sex and them spending time together. It hadn't been too long to be concerned, but it'd been the longest they had gone through without one of them begging for it.

"Not as often, but we do," Y/N replied, hoping that answer was good enough as she didn't want to overthink. But Stephanie, as expected, didn't give her peace.

"So you're that couple?"

"That couple?"

Stephanie nodded as a lopsided grin appeared on her face. "Yeah, the couple who was passionate about each other before marriage, but soon grow apart after their honeymoon."

"We are not that couple!"

"Oh, trust me, you are. Normally it would take years into marriage for the fire to burn out, but you have been together since uni so, your fire would probably die faster." Stephanie's laugh was driving Y/N insane. "As you two stop having sex, it's over, honey. One day you'll come to his office and see his assistant sucking his dick."

"Hey!" Y/N stabbed a finger at her neighbor who raised both hands in the air as she was taken aback. "What did I say about saying stuff like that about my husband?"

"Okay, sorry, chill!" Stephanie scoffed, lowering her voice. She didn't show it but she was a bit intimidated by Y/N.

As they sat in silence for the next five minutes, Y/N couldn't stop thinking about what Stephanie had said. Except for the part of Harry cheating on her, the rest seemed quite true. What if they were that couple? What if they were growing apart and eventually lost interest in one another? She didn't want that to happen.

"Are you guys trying for a baby?"

Y/N shot Stephanie a hostile glare as soon as she heard that question and grumbled, "no" between gritted teeth. If only she could mute this woman for good so she would stop asking offensive questions.

"Well, good. My second cousin and her husband had been trying for a year, and recently discovered that she couldn't get pregnant. Her husband wanted a kid of his own so bad he lost interest in sex."

"Not all men are like that. Harry's not like that." Y/N shook her head as she'd rather believe her husband than the woman she hated deeply. However, Stephanie gave her a serious look, eyebrows pulled together.

"Men are all like that. Even the nicest ones," she said. "Take advantage of this anniversary night to get him into bed. Put on a sexy outfit and make him beg for it, if you don't wanna be that couple."

Never had Y/N thought one day she would take advice from Stephanie of all people. But now, she was actually considering it. She didn't want her and Harry to become that couple.

"One month, baby! We've been together for one month! Can't you believe that?!"

Harry cracked a smirk at his girlfriend dancing around the kitchen while making them breakfast. Her happiness was so contagious that he couldn't stop smiling now. Maybe for the other couples, dating for one month wasn't a big deal, but to Harry and Y/N, it was massive. He used to be the guy who brought back a different girl almost every night, and now he had loved one girl for a month, and was still falling more in love with her every single day. So yes, he was so proud of them both, even if they had only been together for one month.

"How do we celebrate? I'm kind of new to this," he joked, pulling a chair to sit down in front of her, chin on his knuckles. He felt creepy for watching her eat but he couldn't help thinking how adorable she looked right now.

"We definitely should!" Y/N nodded fast as if she'd been waiting for him to bring this up. "Let's go out tonight!"

"Movie then dinner, or dinner first, movie after?"

"Or...we can have dinner and go dancing, or bowling!"

Her suggestion made him sit up straight and widen his eyes in surprise. "Who are you and what have you done to my super introverted girlfriend?!"

"Hey, I can be fun!" Y/N scoffed as she reached across the table to give his shoulder a slight push.

"Sure you can." He agreed. "Proved to me last night, didn't ya?"

As he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, her cheeks turned red immediately. Last night they had made eye contact like this while she was sucking him off. It had been the first blow job in her life, and she could still remember how intense it was when she watched him fall apart. Just the thought of it could leave her squirming in this chair. Now her body temperature was rising, and she watched in anticipation as he rose and came to stand behind her. She held her breath when he leaned down, his lips were at her ear as he whispered, "love it when you get so shy."

Y/N was literally on the edge of her seat. She gulped, closing her eyes and combing her fingers through his dark locks as he kissed her neck.

"How much time do we have left until our class begins?" He asked with his hands on her breasts and she could only mutter, "one" while gasping for air.

"How many times can you come in one hour?"

Though she wasn't looking, she could still imagine the smirk on his face when he asked that question. He knew what he did to her, and he obviously loved it.

"Harry, please, I—"

"Good morning, guys!"

"Niall!" The couple screamed at the same time, and so did Niall when he saw Harry groping Y/N's breasts. Harry stepped away in a heartbeat as Niall cleared his throat, scratching his arm awkwardly.

"Bad timing?" He asked, causing Y/N to laugh and Harry to roll his eyes.

"Always," said Harry as he sat down next to his girlfriend, resting an arm on the back of her chair. "Seriously, mate. You need to give me back the key."

"Oh, so now you've got a girlfriend, you don't need me around here anymore, is that right?"

"Yeah."

"Hey!" Niall huffed, putting his hands on his hips and ignoring his best friend's smirk as he went on, "anyway, you up for game night?"

"Game night?" Y/N raised an eyebrow at Harry, who freaked out as soon as he heard. Shaking his head fast, he widened his green eyes at a slightly perplexed Niall.

"No, I'm not coming tonight."

"But it's Saturday night! Saturday night is game night at Layla's! It's our tradition!"

"Sorry, mate, today is our anniversary." Harry seemed so proud of himself when Y/N cupped his chin and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We're going out to celebrate," she told Niall, who seemed more surprised than expected.

"Even with the storm coming?"

"What storm?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"The weather forecast says there's a storm tonight."

"Shit, love. What are we gonna do?" Harry huffed as he gave his girlfriend a pouting face. Instead of frowning along, she giggled and shook her head. "It's okay, we can just have dinner here. I'll make dinner and you can make dessert."

"Deal." With a nod, he leaned in to capture her lips with his own, kissing her passionately even with Niall standing right there.

"I'm still here, guys!" Niall spoke, yet the couple was too busy doing their own thing to pay attention to him. Sighing, the Irish boy grabbed a sandwich and quickly headed out of the kitchen. When Harry noticed his plate was empty, his best friend was already at the door.

"Hey! Give me back my breakfast, Niall!"

"No! This is for leaving me alone on game night!" With that, the door fell shut and Niall was gone.

"I'll have something else for breakfast then."

Y/N yelped when her boyfriend's lips were attached to her neck again.

"You're getting the key back, right?" She giggled breathlessly and let him pull her onto his lap. Smiling into their kiss, he nodded. "Right after we fuck. Promise."

Harry was exhausted.

He'd been living off coffee for almost two weeks now, and these headaches that came at the most random moments were killing him. He assumed he needed a break and kept telling himself the weekend was coming. But he knew weekends meant nothing if he would work from home anyway.

The two things that kept him going at this point were the love for his father's company, and his wife. He had a photo of her on his desk and one in his wallet. People might say he was obsessed with her, so what if he was? She was one of the reasons he'd got this far. He owed his success to her, his happiness to her, and by looking at her, he always found a purpose to not give up

"Come in," he said and put down the photo as his assistant entered the office.

"Mr. Coleman just replied to my email, sir. He said that he'd got you an appointment tomorrow with those PR people from Daily Exchange."

The news sent Harry right out of his chair. He stood up, looking half thrilled, half puzzled. "But yesterday they said their schedule was full this week."

The brunette broke into a smile. "Well, Jack Coleman knows everything and everyone."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as he gave her a nod. The smile grew so big on his face that he couldn't hide it anymore. "We're doing better," he mumbled, mostly to himself, but loud enough for the girl to hear.

"Yes, we are, sir," she confirmed, looking just as content as she turned to leave. But he stopped her just in time.

"Selina."

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you," he told her, the corners of his lips turned up. "I know it's a struggle to work with someone who doesn't know what he's doing but—"

"No." Selina shook her head. This was the first time she had l interrupted him so he was taken aback. But what came next surprised the man even more. "I prefer you to your father. You're a better boss," Selina whispered while glancing at the door, as if she was afraid Devlin might be right outside. Seeing that look on her face made Harry chuckle. Finally, he thanked her again and watched her walk out.

Just as he got back to his seat, another knock got his attention. He told the person to come in, assuming it was Selina forgetting something. But it wasn't. Instead, Olivia entered.

"Ollie!" His face lit up as he told her to take a seat. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I got off early so I stopped by to check on you." She sat down in front of his desk, scanning her eyes around his new office as if to compare it with his old one. "Very Devlin."

Harry frowned at the comment. "Well, thanks, now I think I'll have to redecorate this whole room."

The joke made both of them dissolve into laughter. Ever since Harry took over the company, joking about his father had become his favorite activity of the day, like a stress relief. The employees loved him mostly because he wasn't a grumpy robot like Devlin. He was kind but tough when needed, so despite his young age, he had no trouble gaining love and respect from the others.

"How's Mr. Davis and everyone? I miss you guys," Harry asked, receiving a smile from Olivia.

"Well, Mr. Davis can't stop comparing everyone else to you. Rob got your office and redecorated it with his weird lightsaber collection. Don't even ask." She put her hand up when he opened his mouth. "Oh, and those gossip girls have been so depressed ever since you left. I spotted one of them crying the other day."

"Wow." Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess I've missed a lot."

"You have, yeah." Giving him a shrug, she added, "but I see how well you've been handling these big changes. Devlin must be proud."

"I wouldn't know about that but..." Harry rolled his eyes, yet the corners of his mouth turned up. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For asking Jack to help me. You shouldn't have—"

Olivia didn't let him finish. Quickly, she reached out to hold his hand tightly. "We're friends, aren't we?" she said while looking into his eyes. If only he knew how happy she was when he nodded his head.

"Ready?"

"No." Y/N giggled while covering her eyes to make sure she wouldn't peek, but his laughter was giving her anxiety.

"Well, too bad, open your mouth," he ordered.

While trying not to laugh, Y/N opened her mouth to take a bite of that one cupcake he had spent the whole afternoon making. When her eyes shot open because of its sourness, she forced a smile which made Harry cackle out loud.

"You can't even pretend like it's good!" He jokingly slammed his fist down on the table. Y/N had to swallow fast so she could laugh, otherwise, she might choke and die with that weird taste in her mouth.

"What did you put in there?!" She stuck out her tongue and fanned it with her hand.

"Love."

His answer made her snort. "Your love tastes like poison to me."

"Hey!" He pointed his fork at her, trying to look angry but his dimples were already showing. "You made dinner, I made dessert. Now shut up and tell me it's good."

"So good, Harry. God, give me more, please. So good." That didn't come out as a normal compliment, she was literally moaning those words with her head tossed back and her eyes closed, knowing exactly what she was doing. When she batted her eyelashes at him and pressed her lips into a flirty grin, she knew he couldn't take it anymore. Harry drew his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darkened as he tried to steady his breathing. As if they could read each other's mind, both folded their arms on the dining table and leaned forward, face to face, eye to eye.

"I just wanna have one romantic dinner that ends with an innocent cuddle, but you just have to ruin it for me," he joked. His voice was deep and hoarse like how she loved it. He always sounded like this when she did something that turned him on.

"Since your cupcake is terrible, can I have 'something else' for dessert?" Y/N couldn't believe she had said that, and neither did Harry as his lips parted and his pupils dilated.

The next thing she knew, she was half naked and pressed against the wall, with her legs around his waist and him driving madly into her. The way she softly whimpered into his ear made his knees go weak. He felt himself almost falling apart, but he wanted to last for her so he abruptly slowed down, moving at a torturing pace. She was so close when he denied her orgasm. And now she was squirming and begging to cum. Instead of giving her what she needed, he shook his head and muffled the sounds she made with his own mouth.

"No, no, no," she protested, raising her hips as her fingers tightened in his hair. "Please don't..."

"Need to calm down, love. Too tight, you'll make me cum too soon." His filthy words made her shiver. She gasped for air, finally nodding for him to do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't stop and leave her hanging. Harry lifted one hand to brush her hair behind her ear for their eyes to meet.

"I love you, so much. I love you." He breathed, grounding his jaw and thrusting deeper into her, causing her head to snap back against the wall. "I...I love you so much...not sure if I can stop..." That wasn't something one would say during sex and he regretted it as soon as those words had escaped. However, instead of looking at him like he'd made a fool out of himself, her eyes flickered with passion as she kissed him harder.

"I love you, too. Don't want you to stop. Don't ever stop." She wasn't sure if that was a response for what he had said, or simply her asking him to keep making her feel good. It could be both, for that didn't really matter now that she was seeing stars. Her heart might explode from all these emotions she was feeling, and she held his face between her hands like he was the only thing she had left to lose.

"Will you...god...will you still want me this much...in a few months from now?" She asked, and he nodded so fast she believed he didn't even need to think.

"A few years from now too. Always..." Even when balls deep inside of her, Harry still wouldn't make a promise to her which he might not intend to keep. So for him to say those words, even when he wasn't thinking straight, she knew he meant every single one. And just like how she loved him, she believed him absolutely and entirely.

"I love you," she repeated those magic words, thinking she could never say them enough. She loved him now, in this moment, and probably always.

Y/N hadn't felt this nervous for a long time. The last one was when she had planned his first birthday party only for him to break her heart that same night by calling her annoying in front of all the guests. But that was five years ago. Tonight would end differently, or so she believed.

She set up a table full of food, and lit up candles to set the romantic atmosphere for them. She'd even put on the sexy lingerie he'd bought for her a long time ago, but she was too shy to wear so often. With a silk robe on, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and pulled some faces that she thought was attractive which turned out hideous. Then another ten minutes went to waste, with her trying on everything sexy that she could find in her closet. She wanted tonight to be perfect. Although acting sexy wasn't something she prided herself on, she hoped this was enough for him to want her.

Now that everything was ready for him to come home, Y/N sat at the table, trying to decide how she would emerge from the kitchen when he walked in. She had come up with a couple of ideas in her head, and her heart was pounding with anticipation.

She hadn't said a single word to him about the anniversary dinner, because she knew she didn't have to. Sometimes they both pretended to forget only to see each other at home with a surprise. And so she assumed this time would be like all those others. However, the more she waited, the more impatient she became. Thirty minutes seemed like hours as she kept checking the clock on the wall. So when the food had gotten cold, she couldn't take it anymore and had to send him a text to ask where he was. His reply came no more than five seconds.

⌲ Hubby: Shit. I forgot to tell you.

⌲ Hubby: I'm having dinner w Jack and Olivia to celebrate our new deal.

Her heart went silent as soon as she read that line. She was hoping it was only a prank so he could surprise her by standing right outside. But the next message crushed all her hope at once.

⌲ Hubby: I'm sorry, don't be mad at me. Want some sushi?

No, she didn't want sushi. She had cooked a whole meal for the two of them. She only wanted him. Now that she had seen the response, him remembering their dinner tradition and rushing home seemed so far-fetched. Taking a deep breath, Y/N blew out the candles and typed down a single line.

⌲ I already ate. Have fun.

⌲ Hubby: Love you.

Instead of writing "I love you, too" like she always would. Y/N left her husband on seen and poured herself a drink

When Harry returned home from the sushi restaurant, he was excited to tell his wife about that business deal he'd got, thanks to Jack. However, a part of him felt bad for leaving her at home, so he had bought her sushi despite her telling him not too. He hoped that little effort would save him from trouble, but who was he kidding? He should've known when she didn't say "I love you" back. He thought she had forgotten, but Y/N never forgot those words she had said so many times before.

When Harry stepped into the dark living room, he had a feeling that something had gone wrong. The first thing he spotted as he entered their kitchen, was a note on the fridge which said:

Dinner in here in case you're still hungry. Happy Anniversary.

He hurriedly pulled out his phone and checked the date. "Fuck," he cursed at himself. This, was the moment Harry knew he had fucked up.

He had been so sure that he wouldn't forget. But he did, and seeing all the food she'd left for him caused his chest to tighten. He could imagine her waiting for him to come home, only to find out from his text that he was hanging out with other people, when he was supposed to be with her.

Quickly, he shrugged off his jacket and headed straight to their bedroom. There he found her lying in the dark with her back facing him. He didn't know if she was asleep, so he called out her name, hoping for a reply, but all he got was silence. Worried, he came to sit down on the edge of their bed and hesitated for a while before lying down, and wrapping his arm around her waist. From the way she flinched at his touch, he knew she wasn't sleeping.

"You're back early," Y/N broke the silence. Her voice was gentle, yet as cold as her skin.

"No, I'm not..." He mumbled, pressing his nose into the back of her neck as he inhaled the familiar scent that he loved so much. "I'm so sorry, love. I messed up. Please forgive me."

She didn't say a word. Been living with her for five years, he knew it was always better to have her shouting at him than giving him silence. If only he could turn back time and say no to Olivia to head home to her. Now he felt like shit. But he should've felt like shit a while ago, all those nights he'd left her on her own. She had never complained but he should've felt bad and made time for her then, instead of waiting for a moment like this, to finally say, "if only". He had really screwed up, yet now wasn't a good time to force a conversation out of her.

"Can we talk in the morning?" He quietly asked. His heart was racing and so was his mind as her silence lasted for a couple of seconds. Those seconds felt like an eternity for him.

"Okay," Y/N finally spoke before closing her eyes. Harry released a sigh, but his grip around her waist only tightened.

"I love you," he said, nearly on the verge of tears. If she didn't say it back this time, he would know what that meant for himself, and for them.

But then, with a shaky breath, she muttered, "I love you, too."

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