#she could have seen the signs and could have saved him had she known

[hexxedghost]

Took a little break from drafting the next chapter of Haunt to write a little threadfic for bsky. Price got injured and is the worst at actually resting to heal. Enter Nik.

The 141 had become somewhat infamous amongst the medical staff on base. Enough of a reputation that whenever they brought in, after the frantic panic and life-saving care, there was always a heavy put upon sigh from the nurses, knowing what would come afterwards. 

They weren’t good at healing. Their bodies, yes, flesh and sinew knitting itself back together, bruises mottling and fading. But staying in bed, and resting. 

Well, it just didn’t suit them. 

Gaz at least, stayed within the medical wing, but pushed to get away with as much as he could, not above charming and lying to do so. 

Soap somehow managed to injure himself during recovery on several occasions, normally by pushing himself too much too quickly. 

Ghost just left. They’d find him tucked away somewhere else on base, using his reputation and stature to warn off anyone who’d suggest he go back to bed. 

But it was a well known fact on base, that the worst of them was Price. A horrible amalgamation of all three of his team, he would charm, lie, push himself and escape even to do something as boring as paperwork. 

Ghost had proposed just tying him to the bed, but after the third escape, medical just sort of shrugged and gave up. Price was a force to be reckoned with, and nobody was willing to put up with the headache. 

Well, nearly nobody. 

-

“Don’t fucking start, I don’t wanna hear it Nik.” Price warns, pointing at him. Nik holds up his hands, chuckling, as he enters the room.  

“It was surprise. I have not seen you without the beard in a while.” he gestures to Price’s cleanly shaved face, currently giving him a very unimpressed look. He huffs, staring at the window. 

“I’ve already had them lot go on about it. Soap and Gaz did a whole bit with asking everyone where their Captain had gone.” he glares at Nik’s laugh, but there’s no real heat to it. Underneath it all is a fond exasperation he knows holds true for his squad.  

“Ghost?” Nik questions. 

“Asked me where to find the Captain so he could sign some paperwork.” Price mutters bitterly, the betrayal clear in his voice. Nik snorts, and Price goes to cross his arms, stubbornly, but growls when he’s stopped by the cast on his arm. 

The last mission, Price had gotten caught between an armoured vehicle and a low retaining wall. His arm had been crushed between his body and the barrier, but at least it had stopped short of crushing his head. There’d been a scramble, with hostiles swarming their location, managing to extract the Captain. It wasn’t until they were in the helicopter that they’d noticed the wound on Price’s neck. It was superficial, at least, and hadn’t caught anything vital, but it would most likely need stitches, no matter how much Price insisted he’d ‘kept most of his blood on the inside’ over the roar of the engine. 

He was partially right, at least. Most of his blood had been on the inside. And the bone had been set easy enough. Though he liked miserable with the cast, given it was his dominant hand. 

John Price hated relying on other people, hated not being able to do things himself. So Nikolai can’t imagine he was pleasant to deal with if they’d had to shave off the beard. 

“Kate’s sent you to babysit me, then?” Price asks as Nik settles into the seat by the bed. 

“I sent myself,” Nik corrects him, but he can’t hold back the grin as he continues, “though she was very grateful. She said the shovel would be murder on her hands, so it would be a shallow grave.” Nik jokes, relishing in the twitch of a smile he sees briefly on Price’s face. 

Laswell wouldn’t. But she would definitely threaten to. Price was insufferable when he was injured, and Laswell had long carried the torch for trying to corral him into actually taking care of himself for once. 

She’d complained about it once over drinks, Price and the rest of the 141 away on a mission. Nikolai had offered to help offhandedly and after giving him a searching look that seemed to pierce him to the core, she’d picked up her drink, mumbled something to herself and told him to have at it. And to prepare for the worst. 

Preparation was key, he felt, when it came to attempting to wrangle the stubborn force that was John Price. He had a plan, of course. He’d given it a decent amount of thought. The major things that tended to drive Price were work, and others that need taking care of. Nik thought the best path was to…remove them from the equation. Mostly by removing Price from the area. 

Laswell had been surprisingly helpful in that regard, insisting the old man needed a break, and it would be a good idea to let him relax. 

Price, it seemed, disagreed. 

“Nik.”

“Captain.”

Price turns to him, eyes sharp with suspicion. “What is this?”

Nik hum’s thoughtfully, shifting his weight to one foot and gesturing casual in front of them. 

“Hm, if I had to guess. I would say a cabin.” he grins at the filthy look Price gives him, striding forward over the dirt track and fishing out a set of keys. 

“Kate knows I’m here.” Price says, it’s not a question. 

“She insisted.” Nik says, glancing over his shoulder and shooting him a quick smile, “She’s also handled your work, Ghost is taking care of the paperwork, the other two are handling training and duties on base.”

Price seems to deflate. “I’m supposed to be stuck out here and rest, then?”

Nik gets the door open, the hinges well oiled so it swings in smoothly. “She said at least a week.” he heads back to the car to grab the bags, “And I believe the suggestion was to ‘actually relax for once, you stupid man’ or something to that effect.” 

There’s a crunch of dirt underfoot, Price moving in to survey the cabin. Or his new ‘prison’ as he shouts from inside, making Nik chuckle as he shuts the boot. 

-

It’s near evening now. Nik had fired up the wood stove, explaining the cabin was off the grid. It would normally be an irritation for people, but Price seems to settle with it. Knowing that he isn’t being coddled. 

Though he had glared at the food.  “What the ‘ell is this?”

“Kasha. Good, filling.” Nik says, placing the bowl in front of him. Price takes a bit and wrinkles his nose a bit. 

“It’s like salty porridge.” he says, poking at it curiously. 

“I can make something else” Nik offers,

“No, no” Price says in a rush, “I’m just...complaining for the sake of it.” he raises a spoonful into his mouth with a suffering sigh, resting a chin on his hand after chewing, “Miss steak though.”

“When you’re better, we’ll go hunting for some. There is deer in the area.” Nik answers smoothly. 

“This your place, then?” Price asks, looking around the room curiously. 

“One of them,” he answers cryptically, chuckling when Price grumbles. 

The cabin itself is fairly plain, but functional. Nik mostly uses it for hunting, but it’s a good holdout if he needs to hide out for a while. There’s a fold out bed, books, and hunting gear. Along with a desk in the corner. 

“I need your help with something tomorrow.” he says casually, managing to keep his face neutral at how fast Price’s head snaps up. “But, it was a long drive. We sleep first.”

It’s probably a little cruel, to prolong it. But in his experience, once Price knows of a task, it's hard to talk him down from undertaking it in that instant. In most circumstances, it’s admirable, Price is someone that can be relied upon like that. Unless the task is resting, it seems.   

They settle down for the night not too long afterwards, the colder weather causing the dwindling daylight to be a distant memory of hours before. 

-

“What you need my help with, then?” Price pesters him in the early hours, while Nik is washing the dishes from breakfast. There’s an odd motion to his arm that Nik recognises it as a habit of grabbing the straps of his tacvest when they’re in the middle of a debrief. Price seems to notice it at the same time and gives a hard stare to the cast. 

Nik puts the rag down and gestures to the desk. There are maps spread over the well-worn wood, notes of red ink scrawled in margins. Price nods to himself, eyes scanning and assessing in rapid fashion. 

“Just intel or a goal in mind?” he asks, giving a curse when he goes to cross his arms again. Nik takes pity, figuring a task to do is better than sympathy. 

“Familiarity more than anything. Good to know what terrain you can use against your enemies.” Nik says, voice strained as he digs under the desk to find what he’s looking for. He holds out a camera drone for Price to inspect. “I’ve mapped some of the area, but it would be easier with two.”

Price takes it in his left hand, squinting at it curiously. “Drones?”

“You know how to handle them, to some extent? I know Sergeant Garrick is quite good with them.”

“I meant more that it’s battery powered. This place is offgrid right?” 

“Ah. There is a generator for it.” he points outside to where it’s tucked against the house. 

“You took the time to make sure you’ve powered your drones, but I can’t have a hot shower?” Price raises his eyebrows, but there’s a glint of humour in his eyes. 

“Priorities, Captain.” Nikolai says simply, the chuckle behind him letting him know he’d hit the mark. “And the radios.” he adds, gesturing to the comms units on the desk. 

“Whats the plan then?”

“You survey, I check, you make notes.” he taps the maps with a callused finger. Price works his jaw, but Nik knows he’s got him. There is only one thing worse for John Price than injury, blood or and gunfire. And it’s boredom. 

“Fine.” 

-

It was nearing the autumn months, the air brisk and fogging in front of him as he moves through the trees. There’s a barely audible whir of the drone nearby, as he sees it flit ahead. 

“Zippy little bastards, aren’t they?” Price’s voice crackles over the comms, sounding pleased with himself. Nik laughs to himself, moving over a gnarled tree root as a leisurely stroll. There was a certain boyish charm to the way Price’s voice lit up that even the static of the radio couldn’t quite hide. 

They’d quickly realised that it was easier for Price to just hot mic, since constantly having to activate a switch required a working hand he didn’t currently possess. 

Nik had been making notes as he’d travelled along the route Price was scouting for him. Most of it he expected, but it was still useful information. He hadn’t considered the river, though Price had swooped low over the rushing water and mumbled to himself about fishing. It was incredibly endearing, Nik just sitting back and letting the words wash over him. 

Although, it had been a few hours since he’d set out, and the sun was sinking lower in the sky. He should consider heading back soon.  

Price’s voice cuts in suddenly. “Nik…”

“Hm?” 

“Why are you taking care of me?” It’s not the question Nik was expecting, but it’s an easy enough one to answer. 

“Someone has to.” he gets to his feet, stretching stiff limbs as he listens to the chuckle over the radio. 

“Drew the short straw eh?” Price jokes. Nikolai straightens up.

“No.”  he says firmly. “Someone should take care of you, and I would rather it be me. I know I will do it right.” 

There’s a pause, the sound of evening birds weaving through the quickly cooling air. “Who takes care of you then?” Price asks. 

“Whoever is willing to shoulder that burden, I suppose.” Nik replies easily, picking up the drone and tucking it safely into his pack. 

Price hums quietly, but doesn’t say anymore on Nik’s trek back. Even at dinner that night he is uncharacteristically quiet, not even a comment about the food. 

-

“Wouldn’t be’ y’know?” he says suddenly after they’ve finished lunch. Nikolai scratches at his beard, trying to find the thread of the conversation he’d lost.

“I don’t think I do?” he says curiously, resting his elbows on the table. 

“A burden.” Price says simply. For once, Nik doesn’t know how to respond. He didn’t realise Price had been thinking about that throwaway common for so long. 

“I…am not an easy man to deal with.” is what he settles on. He had taken precautions when thinking of how to deal with Price in his recovery, but he hadn’t planned for this conversation. It’s odd to find himself completely out of his depth.

“How’d you figure that then?” the captain insists, that keen glint in his eye reminding Nik that Price is far more observant than most give him credit for. It’s something he respects, so as much as it would be easy to dismiss he tries to give the answer some genuine thought. 

“I am difficult to know.” he ticks off on his fingers 

“Reckon I know you pretty well.” Price interjects, smiling when Nik looks over to him and gestures to put the finger down.   

“You do, yes.” he raises another finger, “I am secretive.” 

“Cause you have to be.” Price counters.

Nik shakes his head, but finds himself smiling. He can see the game now.  

“Sometimes, security is a necessity, yes. I put people at ease, but I think they know it is because I am a danger to them. Like a lion placating the sheep.” 

“Lions work together, though.” Price points out, scratching at the edge of his cast and frowning when Nik bats his hand away. 

“True, but it's often the females that do all the work”

Laswell’s name remains unspoken, but as they share a look, it may as well have been said. There’s a glint in Price’s eye that looks like mirth and Nik grins into his drink.

“Should put those down though.” Price says, nodding to the raised fingers. 

“I am still a dangerous person.”

“Surrounded by other dangerous people. Where you’re meant to be.” he sits back, and even though the cast hampers it, there’s that squaring of the shoulders Nik associates with Price gearing up for a final blow. 

“Was supposed to be about you not being a burden. Haven’t heard a good point yet.” he says seriously. 

“To some I would be.” Nik offers, clearing away the table. 

Price shrugs, “Maybe. To me you're not though. Reckon my opinion might count for something.: 

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Nik says, turning to him, resting a palm flat on the counter. 

“Haven’t had much else on.” Price lifts the cast for emphasis. Nik rolls his eyes, hip checking him in the shoulder as he goes past and chuckling at the feigned outrage following him from the kitchen. 

The words seem to fill the space between them for the rest of the day, though they don’t speak much. Just quietly existing in a comfortable silence together, filling in details on the maps, adding notes of good spots for the future plans of a hunting trip that's taken form over the last few days. 

It does feel like something has shifted, slightly. But, Nikolai is a patient man when it comes to these things. He’s willing to wait, to match Price’s pace, if he chooses to walk the same trail. Things that like were worth the wait. 

-

Later, in the quiet dark of the night, as Price clears his throat. “Why’d you take me out here?”

“To recover, I thought that part was obvious from the start.’ Nik says, the grasp of sleep slipping away as he sits up on an elbow. 

“Not what I’m really asking.” Price says, sitting up entirely and cursing at the cast as it gets stuck in the blanket. 

“Here specifically? Or why me?” Nik says, politely ignoring Price’s struggles. 

“Either. Both.” he grunts, finally freeing himself. 

“I like the idea of you being taken care of.” he says, “ I already said this.” he adds pointedly afterwards. 

The dark outline of Price shifts, the constant motion a familiar sight even in the dark. “Are only you allowed to do that then?”

“I would hope you would start taking care of yourself.” Nik points out dully. 

“Rather take care of you.” is the quick reply. 

Ah, he’d forgotten. Nikolai was a man willing to wait for things, no matter how long they take. But, Jonathan Price is not a patient man. If he sees a task to be done, it will be, stubbornly and immediately.   

“You would be the first.” he says gently into the darkness. 

“Rather be the last,” Price says, and it sounds like a promise. 

-

A few weeks later, the cast comes off. 

And a few years after that, after listing off all the reasons why on their fingers, they match them together with bands of gold.

[harringroveera]

Joyce & Billy core

[bet-on-me-13]

Wes ruins everything

Wes had finally done it, he had finally realized why nobody ever belived him about Fenton and Phantom! It made so much sense now, he had been looking for an answer for years, thinking he was going crazy because everybody refused to see the Obvious!

He was Cursed!

He literally had an Ancestoral Curse on his Bloodline that made it so that all those born with the gift of Prophecy would be ignored! A Gift of Prophecy that he apparently had.

It was Cassandra's Curse, the one from Greek Myths. Apparently she was his Great×1000 Grandmother and passed down the Gift (and Curse) of Prophecy to him. And he knew how to break it!

All he needed to do was gather the right resources, chant the correct incantations, make sure not to accidentally summon a Demon in the process, and he could just foist the Curse onto some other poor schmuck. Sure it would suck for them, and he would loose his Gift of Prophecy, but Wes had been ignored for Years at this point, he needed validation!

So he did the Ritual, and he didn't mess it up, and he managed to get rid of the Curse.

Now all he had to do was convince everybody that he was right for the first time in his life! This was going to be great!

...

Cass didn't know what was going on.

A while ago, she had started getting these...gut feelings that she couldn't explain.

She would look over the details of a Case her Family was working on, and see a patern that the others were seemingly ignoring. Like when she realized that The Penguin was about to raid the Docks on the East Side, but the others were convinced it was going to be on the West.

But when she had tried to tell them, they had brushed her off. "We've already concluded that he will begin the Raid on the West side, no need to go to the East."

She had gone anyways, and low and behold she had been right. But nobody even acknowledged that she had been right at all, they had just wondered how they had missed the signs, not even questioning how she had known.

It wasn't limited to Cases either. Even small things, like telling her brother's where the TV remote was were brushed off, and hours later they would still be looking, never even having checked where she told them.

It seemed that no matter what, nobody cared about her point of view anymore. They kept brushing her off, telling her she was wrong, actively ignoring her ideas.

And it was getting worse. They were starting to ignore her more and more, forgetting she was in the room, not calling her down for Dinner, even forgetting to check in on her during Patrol.

She knew that there must be something going on, Magical or otherwise, but when she tried bringing it up with her Dad or JLD, they would also Brush her off.

Her Family was forgetting her. And they didn't even realize it.

...

Danny was not okay at the moment.

When he had gone to school a few weeks ago and noticed everybody staring at him, he didn't give it much thought. Maybe Dash or Paulina had spread another Rumor about him again, not too out of the ordinary.

When his name had been called over the Intercom, he hadn't thought much of that either. His grades were falling even more than usual, so he assumed his Guidance Counselor wanted to have another talk with him.

When he walked into the Principals Office to see both of his Parents and some GIW Agents, that's when he realized something big must have happened.

He didn't have much of a chance to react when the Shields went up, but he did react when the first Ecto-Blast scorched the wall behind him. His Parents began to scream at him as they fired their Blasters, something about replacing somebody? He didn't know, he was pretty preoccupied at the moment.

It took more effort than he cared to admit to escape the Room, but a stray shot to the hidden Shield Projector under the Principals Desk proved to be his saving grace. Unfortunately the moment he escaped the Office, he was met with a veritable Army of GIW Agents, all armed to the Teeth with Weapons he had never even seen before.

He managed to get away for a moment, hiding in the Bathroom as the Agents chasing him passed it by. That's when he met Wes.

He obviously hadn't been expecting him, but the moment he saw him Wes put on a smug look. "Oh hi Fenton, trying to get away from the other students?"

Danny had replied with confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I finally managed to convince everybody about you, now everyone knows that you're Phantom! I'll bet you're hiding from all of the other Students hounding you for questions right?"

"...it was you?"

"Yeah, so? I finally get to be right!"

"...You absolute MORON-"

That was the last Danny got to say to Wes before an Ecto-Blast launched him through a Wall, seeing his face morph into a look of Shock just before the dust cloud covered it up.

Since that day, Danny had been on the Run. Nowhere was safe anymore now that the GIW knew both his Human and Ghost's faces, but he had to keep running. He crossed state Lines already, and was on his way to the next Ecto-Rich City he could sense, somewhere in New Jersey.

He cursed his Fenton Luck every day. Why had everybody believed Wes this time?! Nobody had ever belived him before, nobody even seemed to acknowledge his existence after a while! What had changed?

Danny just wanted to rest already.

...

Cass had taken to Patrolling alone recently. She had taken to doing a lot of things alone, actually.

After the first month, it seemed that nobody could remember that she was in the room with them, even if she was within their eyeline, she just faded into the background. By the 2 Month Mark they had stopped talking to her entirely, although occasionally she would get a Text or two from her dad. By the 3 month Mark she was completely invisible, and By the 5th she had been forced to get used to it.

She didn't know what was going on, was it a Meta Ability? Magic? Alien Tech? She had no idea.

She had begun to cook for herself after the first time Alfred forgot to set her Plate at the Table. The same with Washing her own Clothes, Cleaning her Room, and Paying her Phone Bills. At the very least the Automated Allowance Payments to her Account had kept up, or she wouldn't have been able to go to her favorite Cafe anymore.

It was bittersweet for her. She used to go to that Cafe every week with Alfred, but he didn't even come on his own anymore. Had he only come for her? Did she really mean that much to them? It hurt, she finally had a family that cared for her and suddenly she didn't exist to them.

She sat alone at a Table, ignored by everyone in the Cafe as usual, when a new face walked in. He looked about her age, a little roughed up, walking with a sort of cautious gaint, as if he was scared of something. His Body Language seemed to agree with her assessment, as his body practically screamed "Worry" in its movements.

Cass stopped watching at that point. Just another Gotham Teen, probably worried over something like getting not having enough money or getting mugged on the way home. It was a Common sight in Gotham.

She attention was pricked again for a moment when she heard a voice speak up. "Uh, can I sit here?"

She ignored it, he wasn't talking to her.

"Um, excuse me? Miss? Could I sit here?" He repeated.

She ignored him again, he wasn't talking to her. Nobody talked to her.

"Hello? Do you have Earbuds in?" He said, and he waved his hand in front of her face.

Her face. He waved his hand. In front of Her Face.

He was talking to her.

She looked up at him sharply, seeming to startle him for a moment before he asked, "So, is that a no?"

"You can see me?" She asked.

He looked a bit bewildered, but replied "Uh, yeah? Why would I not? Are you...a Ghost?". That last part sounded a bit suspicious.

"No. Not a Ghost. But nobody sees me. Ever. Nobody remembers me." She replied. She had never spoken this much to anybody outside of her Family, but in the past few weeks she had been starved for interaction.

He seemed slightly interested, and sat down at her table. He looked her in the eyes, and said "Do you...talk about it?"

She smiled. He could see her.

[theresascove]

whispers in the dead of night ₊ ⊹

brother’s best friend!ellie williams x f!reader

you started to avoid Ellie when you fear she won’t return the feelings you have, turns out—after a little confrontation in your kitchen at 3am—she feels the same

tw: not proofread, confessions, friends to dating, slight hurt w comfort, kiss at the end, kiss gets a little passionate (then brother walks in on them), r described to be able to put her head on Ellie’s chest

wc ✎ 1.6k

You knew Ellie, but only through your bother. If you two had a conversation, it was because he had invited her over. If she watched a movie with you, it was because he had invited her over. If she ever said happy birthday to you over the phone, it was because he was calling her first.

He was her friend, before she was yours. You were used to seeing her and a few of his other friend’s over, hanging out in the basement or his bedroom. It looked like fun, but your brother’s obsession with keeping his friends away from you was a bit weird. He would tell you to keep away or else you’ll embarrass him, whatever that means—you fear he already does that enough himself.

She was over again, settled on the couch while your brother was somewhere in the house. Her eyes were locked on her phone, scrolling on some media. You mumbled your hello, moving past the living room to grab something from the kitchen. She was doing absolutely nothing, but the sight of her made your heart race.

“Uh yeah, hello to you too,” she says, tone playful, “haven’t seen you all day, where’ve you been?”

“Homework,” you reply, reaching up into a cabinet to grab food. It was a bold lie, but you didn’t want to say you’ve been avoiding coming downstairs as long as possible since you heard her voice.

You see, since you’ve begun to notice how your heart races whenever she was around—you’ve been hiding away as best you can. Not ignoring her, just not being as friendly and close as you were before. You didn’t tease and come sit beside her, leaning on her shoulder anymore. You kept a distance, a friendly normal distance.

“Right,” she says, slowly, “anything going on? You seem busier.”

Shit. You turn your back to pour a bowl of cereal, hands getting a little shaky from the question. You feel like a spy, having to hide a secret from her.

“Just school life, I mean it’s the middle of the year—it usually picks up.”

“That’s true. You could come join us, we’re going to go for a swim.”

Absolutely not. If you saw her in a swim suit you’d fumble and your middle school crush on her would shine like a prism through a glass window. It’d be so embarrassingly obvious.

“I don’t want to impose, my brother would hate me.”

“Who cares, he can suck his own dick. Come join whenever you feel, we’re about to head out.”

You didn’t. You stayed in your bedroom, listening to them talk through the window in your room. It sounded like his other friend eventually joined, the one you’ve all known since forever since they live next door. You assume she probably overheard them in the pool, and came over. There was splashing, laughing, before it grew quiet. You peeked through and saw them resting, talking quietly with one another. No surprise, but seeing her in the pool made your heart jump. It was ultimately a good choice to avoid this, it saved you the hurt of loosing your dignity.

Time flew. Especially when you had fallen asleep, face laid out on your textbook and papers. You felt the deep headache growing in your skull as you sit up, bringing a hand up to rub at your forehead.

“Fuck,“ you say, looking at how dark your room was now. Going off of the fact that you didn’t hear anyone outside anymore—you assumed they had all gone home. As far as you knew, neither of them were staying over—she wasn’t staying over.

Your stomach growled again. You signed, pulling on a sweater as you made your way down the stairs. Sure you had cereal earlier, but it was so easy to make so you picked the box out again—unaware of the socked feet walking behind you.

“Why’re you up so late?”

Goosebumps rose on your arms, head whipping around to find Ellie looking at you tiredly. Her hair was dripping, the drops sliding down her face and wetting her band shirt.

“I’m getting a snack.”

“I can see that, I meant what kept you up?”

“I actually was asleep, I just randomly woke up starving”

She leans against the counter, eyes following you around. It was quiet for a minute. The kitchen click ticking the seconds became so loud, even as you’re putting the cereal and milk away. It was suffocating.

“Hey, might be overstepping here. You don’t have to answer—I just, are you avoiding me—?”

You felt the air grow cold in your chest, eyes darting at everything except her now. She caught you, and now you really can’t escape—but she can’t know. You’d die before you’d ever let her know. She’d take your dumb feelings and mock you for life, possibly stop showing up as often, stop treating you like a friend—you’d loose her.

“I’m not avoiding you, Ellie,” you respond, voice a whisper. You hope she couldn’t catch onto how your voice wobbled just slightly. Her eyes are watching you, flicking around your face.

“Woah, why’re you crying—hey.”

She’s crossing the kitchen, making quick steps to come stand in front of you. You push back slightly, “there’s nothing, really. I’m just tired.”

“Well there’s something if you’re crying,” she sighs, “please talk to me, I just feel like you’re avoiding me and I don’t kn—“

“Well I like you,” you shove her back for real this time, wiping at your face when you feel a tear slip, “it’s stupid, I know. We’re not even that close, you’re so much closer with my brother. I can’t even explain why, really. It’s dumb—and just whatever, goodnight.”

You push past, not caring to even grab the cereal that you made. There were far more important things at hand, like escaping further embarrassment.

“Oh shit—I, wait a second,” she twists, reaching an arm around to try and reach for you in some way, “fuck, wait. I like you too.”

You laugh, the sound coming out watery and it just further makes Ellie feel all the more nervous, “oh fuck off Ellie.”

“No im serious,” she draws, “I’m so serious. I’ve liked you for so long.”

You stand there, eyes red and looking her straight in the eye with a sharpness of hurt beneath them. She’s breathing hard almost, chest rising and falling as she looks to you with a sad grimace almost.

“Please, talk to me,” she begs, and it turned out to be enough. You stayed, hearing her out, listening to each detail of her story.

“I really do, I really really do like you. I’m not mocking you, I would never do that.”

With your arms wrapped around you, you wrap them tighter—seeking comfort as you take in her words. It felt like a fever dream. Somehow you were more accepting to hear her “deny” you than to spill her feelings.

She reached a hand out, pulling you closer to her again. Reluctantly your body shuffles closer until you’re resting in her embrace—head on her chest. Her hands are warm, slightly shaky as they rub at your back. Ellie’s eyes are looking around at the ceiling, her heart racing so fast against your ear you almost smile. You almost forgot how much of a dork she really is.

“You wanna go out on a date with me now, or something,” she asks, trying to seem nonchalant.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to,” you whisper, “but I do need to get your phone number.”

“Yeah… I don’t know why I’ve gone along with your brother’s bro code. What the fuck, yeah, I need your number.”

You laugh quietly, leaning back to look at her.

“Ellie?”

You say, but it came out more like a hush—mumbled against the air and falling warm against her skin as she moves in closer. Her fingers are moving on your face, brushing it gently.

“Can I kiss you?”

You smile with a nod and it was enough to melt Ellie. She’s dreamed about this, literally. She’s had nights where she’s woken up, fake memories of the two of you hanging out. And now it’s real. She’s holding you in her arms and she’s about to actually kiss you—wow does she feel like she’s dreaming.

It was so sweet, the first moment when your lips touched. You smiled wider snd leaned in again. She kissed back happily, moving forward to chase after you. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer just as she does the same.

The kitchen has the same ticking sound of the clock, but now there’s the added sounds between the two of you. You stand there for who knows how long, pressed against a counter and Ellie’s body. It’s a contrast for sure—the difference between her warm hands, and cold chest from her dripping hair.

You gasp just a tad when her mouth fumbled and pressed against your jaw. The sound drove her crazy, hands fighting against your clothes and pulling you closer. Before she could even try and kiss there again, the lights to the kitchen switched on and you felt like a deer in headlights.

Your brother stood, looking between the two of you, “Ellie dammit—“

All she could do was smile awkwardly. For the first time that week, you laughed full heartedly.

[munsonson]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine. 

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Trophy | 141 x Reader

Day 15: Fantasy AU w/ Task Force 141

Summary: When the MacTavish Clan raids a neighboring clan who grew a bit too bold, they don’t expect to find the feisty, beaten wife of the other clan’s chief.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Violence, blood, implied abuse, death, implied rape, kidnapping

A/N: well this was supposed to be fluff, but I hope you enjoy regardless, lmk what you think<3

Requests are open!

The MacTavish Clan had been preparing for a raid on a neighboring clan that kept pushing boundaries, with local women disappearing into the night with no explanation at all, weapons disappearing, and footsteps discovered that weren’t of the style of shoe anyone within the clan wore, and that was among the less suspicious things.

The most talented and local blacksmith, Simon, known for his welding mask in a skull shape, had been honing the weapons for it.

Johnny, the leader of the Clan, had been discussing plans with Price, the leader of their men, and Gaz, his advisor. The general idea was simple, keep it undercover as long as possible, or until signs of their missing women and supplies were found, then they would go loud, letting every other man flood in.

Plunder what they could from the Gravison Clan, take their resources, and lives, and maybe take a few women from them in retaliation.

A few hours later, things were progressing smoothly, Price having infiltrated their walls under the cover of darkness, most men settling down for the night already, when the warlord discovered just what he’d been expecting in a large boat just offshore: the women of the MacTavish Clan bound and gagged in the storage compartment in the bottom.

One flaming arrow was shot into the sky, and just like that, every man from the Clan was flooding the Gravison Clan’s walls and defenses, slaughtering everyone they found save for the women and children, hunting down their leader, going through every house and home, Johnny wanting the kill for himself.

When he finally found the man, cowering inside a large home, he slit his throat after distributing more than a few hits to his body, and more than a few barked insults and curses at him.

The man’s head was soon put on a pike to be displayed, a sign of warning.

But what he hadn’t expected to find was a feisty woman, the wife of the Gravison Clan’s leader, fighting more than even her husband had, yelling and hissing and cursing at Johnny as he grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder even as she kicked and clawed, nails drawing a bit of blood. It wasn’t often he took a prize from his battles, but you were intriguing, he’d never seen a woman with so much fight.

“Quit yer yappin’, woman.”

He grumbled as you pounded at his back, cursing him out so severely that the Devil himself would blush. The smell of smoke was thick in the air as huts and buildings were burned, leaving behind ashy remnants of what had been of the Clan.

Burnt bones crunched beneath his feet as he walked back to what had been of the gates, approaching his short, sturdy horse, hopping on in one smooth movement, one hand gathering both reigns as Price joined him on his own horse, following as Johnny took point back to the MacTavish Clan’s lands.

His warlord only raised a brow at the yelling woman thrown over his shoulder but didn’t question it, the ride silent back to their lands as your throat eventually grew too raw to keep screaming, body shivering from the cold and the exhaustion quickly seeping deep into your bones. Whether you had fallen asleep or passed out was lost on him, but he didn’t care either way, Price only spoke once he was sure your breathing had fallen into a deeper rhythm indicating unconsciousness.

“Didn’t take you as one to take a prize mare.”

Price commented, carefully eying his Chief, trying to read his mood based on the little tells. Johnny shrugged.

“Not a prize mare, just felt different about this one.”

And that was that. The conversation had ended, Price only giving a little grunt in return before they continued on the path home.

When they finally arrived, they had plenty of work to do.

~

When you woke, you first registered the pounding headache between your eyes, the loud sounds outside of work being done, people shouting, wood being sawed, and metal being hammered, only adding to your discomfort.

You tried to sit up, quietly groaning, leaning against the wall behind you.

It was a wonder you weren’t dead yet, honestly. But maybe that was part of their game, maybe they would just give you a glimmer of hope only to slaughter you like cattle, or turn you into a sex slave, or just an object to take their anger out on. It wouldn’t surprise you.

Your clothes had been changed. From the thin nightgown you’d worn the night earlier, now to a thin white smock, a strap dress sewn together at the sides hanging nearby.

Splotchy bruises were spread across your skin from the night earlier, though you couldn’t tell if they were from the other Chief, or your husband’s hands nights ago. They felt tender when you brushed a hand against them as if someone had rubbed against them.

You were in what seemed to be a separate section of a longhouse, a lit torch burning mildly as it hung from the mud and stone walls. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness that still prevailed in the room, just as you heard a door creak, scrambling away as a man with honey-brown skin and short, tightly curled hair stepped in.

“Easy, I’m not here to hurt you.”

He said, offering a small smile that would’ve been reassuring in any other predicament. There was a platter in his hands, looking as if it was made of terracotta, a small roasted bird resting on it as he stepped further in, shutting the door behind him.

You watched warily as he set the plate down on one end of the bed you were in, moving to lean against a wall opposite the bed. He watched as you slowly picked the plate up, glancing at the food, before pulling the wing part off with cracked nails, taking a bite, and reluctantly deciding it was delicious.

“I’m Kyle, but everyone calls me Gaz. You are..?”

You looked him dead in the eye, chewing your bite of food, dead stare unnerving him slightly, before you swallowed, a flicker of pain in your eyes from how your throat ached until you finally responded.

“Y/N.”

You croaked out, and he nodded, but frowned slightly, giving you a glance over, before his gaze went back to your face.

“I'll be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to be so docile, considering you just watched your husband die by our Chief’s hand—“

“Good.”

Your raspy voice interrupted, eyes boring into his as you took another bite of the meat, and you watched his brows furrow for a moment. You shifted in the bed slightly, moving to pull your knees to your chest, plate balancing on your knee as the smock was pulled up slightly, showcasing one of the nastier bruises on your thigh.

His eyes darted to the bruises, quickly piecing things together as he carefully spoke his next few words.

“Your husband wasn’t a good man, was he?”

You shook your head, and he gave a little thoughtful nod, getting up, opening the door, walking out, closing it while muttering to himself. You managed to hear only a quiet,

“Bloody hell,”

Tags:

@hawke1917

@flufftober

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 4

In which your heart shatters into a million pieces.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of a panic attack, charles being a dick.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader word count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Master List

Summer break. Four blissful weeks of no racing talk, no work for Max, and nothing to do but spend the day in bed. Of course, you had work to do but considering half of Europe was also on summer holiday at the moment, your inbox was fairly empty and you didn’t have much going on. The first week of the summer vacation passed with you spending nearly all your time with Max, holed up in either your new apartment that you finally found and rented four weeks ago or in his apartment across town. The uninterrupted time you had spent with him so far had been one of the best weeks of your entire life. 

And Max felt the same way. It was so nice being out of the spotlight for a while, able to hide away and focus solely on you. Things between the two of you were becoming…serious, he supposed. It was still a secret from everyone and Max was beginning to chafe under that shroud of secrecy. You were still insistent on keeping it private, still confident that Charles would have an absolute fit if he found out. 

But you also were wary of what the media and fans would do if they found out. Just a few weeks ago, there had been a rumor about Oscar’s girlfriend Lily being pregnant and Oscar had been accused of hiding her pregnancy to save his career. It was all false, of course. You had seen Lily with your own eyes the other night when you ran into her and Oscar while you were at dinner with your mother and Charlie and she was very not pregnant. But you could see the toll it had taken on the both of them. The way Lily looked a little more on edge than normal, and Oscar a little more distant than usual had you nervous of what would happen if Max and you ever decided to go public. 

For now though, you were content setting up house and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. In another week, you would go on a trip with your family to Croatia for a week, spending time on a yacht Charlie had rented to island hop. While you didn’t want to leave Max, who would be leaving to spend some time with his family first in Belgium, where his mother was from and then in Italy. You hated how much your heart hurt when you thought about how much you’d miss him while he was gone for the two weeks, but the first race back would be Max’s home race in the Netherlands which would be such a good weekend. 

You were in the shower that morning when everything crashed and burned. Your phone had been set to Do Not Disturb for various reasons, so you missed the warning signs. Max was in your kitchen, the picture of domestic bliss, as he flipped pancake after pancake, wanting to surprise you with breakfast after you had finished getting cleaned up from this mornings romp in the sheets with him. His shirt was off as he stood barefoot in only a pair of running shorts in front of the stove, whistling along to the upbeat jazz that floated out from the speakers connected to the bluetooth on his phone. 

The smell of the freshly made pancakes, sticky with syrup, wafted through the small apartment, drawing you out of your bathroom in only one of Max’s shirts. “Something smells good.” You crooned, padding into the kitchen in bare feet, hair still damp from your shower. 

Max hums in response, pointing to the pile of pancakes waiting for you on the counter. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your head on his shoulder, pressing your lips to the bare skin there. He always tasted so good, you could never resist the chance to taste him. 

“There’s fruit on the table, juice in the fridge. You really need to go to the grocery store, liefje.” 

Your heart fluttered at the new pet name he’d begun to call you in the last few weeks. You hadn’t known what it meant and when you asked Max, he shyly told you it was Dutch for ‘baby’ or ‘love’. You had always been a sucker for pet names but pet names in a different language than your native French and English? That did something extra to your heart. 

“I know, I know. I can’t help it if there’s a hot Formula 1 driver that refuses to let me out of bed for longer than a few moments though, can I?” 

Max raps you on the ass with the spatula as you scamper away, giggling at the grin he tosses over his shoulder at you. 

“What the actual FUCK am I looking at right now?” 

You spin around, the bowl of fruit in your hands clattering to the ground at the sound of your brother’s voice. 

Oh fuck. 

Your eyes bounce from your brother’s face, a mask of rage to Max’s horrified expression. 

“And here we thought you were hurt or something, but no!” Charles stalks towards you, the key to your apartment dangling from his fingertip. “No, you’re just playing house with my biggest fucking rival! Of all the people you could choose to fuck, it had to be HIM?” 

“Charlie.” You whisper, tears burning the back of your eyes at the look of pure anger and more horrifying, sadness, etched on your brother’s face. “It’s not what you think. This isn’t…”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear you justify whoring yourself out to fucking Max Verstappen.” 

“Do not speak to my girlfriend like that, Charles.” Max grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching from how tightly he’s grinding his molars together.

You turn slowly, along with Charles, at his words and blink at him. Girlfriend? 

Max ignores the look of panic on your face and continues, voice measured and deathly calm. “I know this might be,” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Upsetting and a surprise but this is not a fling, I swear.” 

If it had been any other time, you would have melted at his words. And you were still reeling from Max calling you his girlfriend. But you had bigger things to focus on. Charles practically shook with anger as he tore his gaze away from Max, fury fully settling on you now. “How long? How long have you been lying to me? To everyone? You’ve been traveling with us under the guise of spending more time with me, living in Monaco to be closer to the family but all this time, you’ve been with him?” 

The disgust in your brother’s voice turns your stomach, acid creeping it’s way up your throat. “Since Austria.” You whisper, wincing when Charles throws your key across the room in a fit of rage. 

“I fucking knew it. I knew something was up when you suddenly had that migraine in Belgium but didn’t answer your door when I came to check on you after dinner. You lied to me! You never lie to me. We never keep secrets and this is the first one you choose to keep from me? My sister fucking the man that has taken everything from me my entire career? What kind of fucking joke it this?” 

“It’s not a joke, Charles.” Max murmurs from where he now stands beside you, fingers laced tightly with yours. Maybe if he showed your brother that this wasn’t some random fling, he’s calm down. 

“Shut your fucking mouth Verstappen.” He growls, furious gaze swinging back to you. “This obviously can’t continue.” 

“Wh-what?” You stutter, absolutely floored that your bother would think that he could make you choose. 

“You left the family for six god damned years because you couldn’t handle being the sister of someone famous! What do you think it’s going to be like as Max Verstappen’s fucking girlfriend! You’re not strong enough.” 

Pain lances through your entire body at the venom in your brother’s voice. “Charlie.” You choke, unable to believe that your best friend, your twin, just said something that awful to you.

“Enough.” Max shouts, stepping in between the pair of you, shielding you from Charles’ view. “You need to leave, right fucking now.”

Charles scoffs, still completely floored by what he walked in on. “You know what, you two deserve each other. Both fucking liars. Don’t bother worrying about coming to Croatia with us, you’re not wanted there anymore. I’m sure you’d have more fun with your new boy toy anyway.” 

Charles turns on his heel and stalks out of your apartment, slamming the door shut behind him so hard you flinch. A haunted silence falls over you and Max, panic and anguish flooding your body as you begin to tremble from the scene that just unfolded before you. 

“Fuck.” Max breaths, turning to you. “I’m so sorry liefje.” He reaches out to take you into his arms but to his surprise, you step out of his reach. Panic shoots through him, you’ve never turned down affection from him, especially when you’re upset. He’s been the one you go to for comfort for months now and not being able to do anything about how distraught you are sets his teeth on edge. “Liefje?” 

“He’s right, you know.” You whisper, not sure if you’re talking to yourself of Max. 

“What?” All Max wants to do is hold you, to get his arms wrapped around you and stop your shaking. 

Tears stream down your face as your brother’s words echo in your head. How you weren’t strong enough. You were whoring yourself out. The vile words repeated over and over until the buzz of his venom was all you could hear. Your breath comes quicker, panic squeezing itself around your heart as you fight for a breath that just won’t come. You know what’s coming and are helpless to fend it off. Having Max see you so weak sends you even further down the road towards the panic attack you can’t keep at bay. 

“You need to leave.” You choke out, desperately needing to be alone to work this out by yourself. It’s how you’ve always done it, gathered yourself together on your own without anyone else seeing you so weak. You couldn’t let Max see you like this. How could you when the only other person you’ve ever allowed in just threw everything in your face. No, you couldn’t stand if Max turned on you too. 

Max comes to stand beside you, concern etched on his handsome face. “What? No, schatje absolutely not. I can’t. Leave you right now, you need me. You can’t be alone now.” 

“That’s exactly what I need. Charles was right, I’m not strong enough to be your girlfriend.” You choke on the word, having wanted to be claimed by him for months now and when you finally get what you want, it hurts too much to even enjoy it. 

His arms reach out to circle your waist, pulling you to him. Strength completely depleted, you allow him to crush you to his chest, the heat of his skin like a warm blanket settling over you. “Baby, I can’t do that. I just can’t.” 

“You have to. Charlie was right.” You repeat again, still listening to his words on a loop in your head. “I need some time to process what just happened and I need to do it alone. Please, Max.” He winces, you never call him just ‘Max’.

His arms drop away from you then and despite your begging him to leave, you instantly miss his warmth. “Is this the end?” Emotion claws at his throat, unable to process what is happening. You’re simply the best thing that’s ever happened to him and now? Now you’re pushing him away. 

“I don’t know.” You choke out on a sob. 

“Fine. I’ll go but I don’t want to. You call me the moment you change your mind, okay? And this isn’t over, not for me. It won’t ever be over for me, liefje.” 

Max retreats to the bedroom for a moment, leaving you standing cold and alone in the kitchen. When he returns, he’s got a shirt on. He doesn’t have his bag that he brought with him though, he refuses to bring it with him. It’s too final, taking that bag out of the house. He wants, no needs, an excuse to come back and he wants you to know that he’s not leaving without a fight. He’ll respect your wishes for now because he knows you think you need the space but if he knows you, and he’s betting everything that he does, you won’t run away from what the two of you have. 

You’re balled up on the couch, faraway gaze staring at nothing when he comes to stand in front of you. “I’m going now but if you need me, you can call me. Any time of day, no matter what.” He crouches down in front of you, fingers snagging your chin so you’re forced to look at him instead of at some unknown point over his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, liefje. So fucking much.” 

The sob that escapes your throat shatters his heart in a million pieces. He doesn’t know if that was the right thing to do, to tell you what’s bene on his mind for weeks now. It was the truth though. He’d been fighting it for what felt like forever now, terrified to scare you off with those words that felt like they were coming too early but now? Now it was different. He needed you to know that he wasn’t going to give up this easily. He needed you to know that he had fallen head over heels for you and that he’d never leave, no matter how hard you pushed him away. 

Your silence ripped him even further in two but he accepted it, knowing that there was too much emotion swirling around in that head of yours to properly respond. Maybe that made him selfish, taking this time to tell you how he felt but he needed you to know. 

Dropping a kiss on your head, Max stands and does the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He walks out of your apartment not knowing when he’ll see you again. 

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo

[linkemon]

Confession headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Part 1 | Part 2 of the confession headcanons.

This part contains: Rook Hunt, Riddle Rosehearts and Floyd Leech.

Rook Hunt

• Even if you weren't fully aware of Rook's love for you, its signs would catch up with you faster than his arrow. Mainly because Hunt doesn't hide his feelings towards anyone. His love for beautiful things is widely known. What can be more beautiful than love? It might be difficult to distinguish his usual delight from this feeling. Because Rook has been singing paeans to you basically from the very beginning of your acquaintance.

• You would definitely feel valued around him. He sees your advantages but at the same time loves your flaws. Do you bump into things? You don't want to study? Did you cause mischief with Ace and Deuce? He thinks it's a charming display of unpredictability, which makes him like you even more.

• You would have to come to terms with his stalker tendencies. If you knew how much he watched you to plan the perfect confession, you'd think twice if you really wanted to be with him...

• Vil doesn't have much patience. He promised himself that if he heard Rook start talking about the sparkle in your eyes again, he would remove him from his position at Pomefiore. The poor boy had no choice but to stop.

• Rook's confession would consist of love letters that would bring you to your knees. Delivered by an arrow, of course. He couldn't send just one. It would take time because he had a large supply of them. Poems about your appearance, interesting facts about yourself that you don't notice or a quick sketch of your face. He kept them all and now he decided to reveal them to you. You would have known after the first letter but it's nice to see the new ones coming after you've already told him that you reciprocate his feelings.

Riddle Rosehearts

• You would be the one to confess your feelings to him before he had the chance to do so. Riddle would have seen something happening to him. His attention would start flying out the window and it would worry him terribly. History of magic lesson with Trein and he didn't write down a few sentences of his notes? Disgraceful behaviour on his part. And all because you had physical education with Vargas outside the window near him. You were laughing loudly at something and he could almost imagine the sound.

• He wouldn't be able to understand that he was in love. His mother didn't talk to him about such things, so although he understood in theory that people were together, he had no practice in this area because she always locked him at home. Trey would gently suggest this possibility to him but he would hotly deny his words.

• You would have to take matters into your own hands. You'd realize pretty quickly that Rosehearts reciprocated your feelings. After all, no one else escapes his spell as easily as you. In front of no one, his cheeks glow as scarlet as the Queen of Hearts' dress. At unbirthday parties, he serves you first and you are always welcome in his dorm, even if he was busy studying. Knowing his character would let you know that you had to take the first step.

• You would scrape the thaumarks you had saved especially for such occasions. For once the rules of the Queen of Hearts would be useful. A bouquet of freshly cut red roses, of course in an odd number, clearly suggested a declaration of love. Riddle, versed in complex laws, would have understood immediately when you handed it to him. You would be answered by the redness in his cheeks and the silence, after which he would say that he needed to think about it. Don't worry, it wouldn't take him long. He would just have to get used to this new thought.

Floyd Leech

• Confessing your feelings for Floyd would be as strange as your entire relationship. One day he would just say you were his girlfriend. Just like that. You wouldn't take it to heart because the guy is always saying very random things, one third of which are jokes, one third are lies and the rest are true. You assumed it was another joke and that's it.

• It would piss you off when he got between you and a freshman you went to class with and talked to. He would put his head on your shoulder and tell him to get lost because he wanted to talk to his girlfriend. You would grumble under your breath and follow Floyd, not taking his words seriously.

• That was until one time at the Mostro Lounge, his brother asked if you were going to go home with them because it would be nice for their parents to meet you. You would look at him as if he had grown an extra tentacle. In your head you weren't even a couple. Meanwhile, Floyd allegedly talked about it at virtually any occasion. You would go to him right away to explain it.

• Floyd wouldn't be moved by his favourite shrimpy yelling at him. After your tirade, he would ask how you wanted him to confess his feelings to you, completely unfazed. Whatever you say, he will do it. Do you want to put him to some test this way? No problem. For him, it might even be a confession made on the moon. His cleverness is not decoration. When he really cares about something (or someone), he will get it sooner or later.

• Ne, shrimpy... you better have the sweetest kiss in the world for his hardships. Once Floyd sticks to you, you won't get rid of him easily...

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I ask for revenge for hurt s/o with fem reader and Thomas Hewitt, maybe reader is a neighbour to the Hewitt's and her and Thomas become close over time, and maybe their latest victims are there and reader goes over to the house as well, and it's an all fight between everyone but someone cuts reader bad and maybe Thomas sees red and she is the only one to calm him down, and then they kiss

.⋆｡Anything For You｡⋆.

Thomas Hewitt x plus size reader

Thomas has always been your sanctuary but now, he would be your protector too

Warnings: death of parents, fire, murder, friends to lovers, angst, getting stabbed, violence, knives, happy ending, protective!Thomas WC: 1.9k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You liked the quiet of your farm. Just you and your animals and the family across the way, it was peaceful. It was all you had ever known. 

Your family moved to Fuller when you were barely a month old, buying up a small farm on the edge of town in hopes of laying down some roots. Life was peaceful, at least until the town began to decay. Less and less children would enrol in school every year, less cars on the roads. Even the fire station shut down as the last family moved out from the city centre. And that led to the death of your parents.

A spark from a frayed cable in the basement landed on a pile of newspapers, setting them alight. It had been a dry summer, far more than usual, and there was no lack of kindling for the blaze. You chose to sleep in the barn that night, wishing to rest beside the newborn calves. Your parents had indulged your silly request, not realising that it would save your life.

You could vividly remember the smell of smoke as it bellowed out from the shattered windows of your home. The dogs howled from their kennels while you ran onto the dirt road leading to the Hewitt household. You banged on their door, begging for them to save your parents.

But even with Monty and Charlie doing their best to put out the fire, no help was coming. You were forced to watch from the comfort of Luda Mae’s arms as your entire world turned to ash.

You lived with the Hewitts for a long time after that, being that you had no other family, as the small farm house was rebuilt. By the time you were 19, you had a new home and a deep friendship with the younger Hewitt brother. Thomas had always been kind to you in the brief moments you had seen each other, but it became something more when you became a daily fixture in his life. 

He showed you how he did his chores around their own farm, took care of the animals and crops on yours when you could not bear to look upon the mound that used to be your home. And in turn, you treated him with more kindness than he had ever experienced. You never faltered at his appearance nor his size, in fact you always found ways to compliment him. You taught him to read and write, and later on, how to use sign language after your schooling ended, even if he only ever used it with you. 

You were his best friend and he was yours.

Perhaps that’s why he never encouraged you to leave as the rest of his family did.

Having finished your morning chores, you sat on the small porch in front of your house with a cup of tea and the book you had been meaning to read, eager to soak in some sun before the Texan heat rolled through. Just as you were getting to a particularly juicy section where the gentle giant farm hand had finally kissed the farmer’s daughter in the barn, a shrill scream cut through the faint buzz of the cicadas.

“What the-“ You tilted your head, waiting for another sound but none came. Leaning over your porch railing, you could just about see the edge of the Hewitt’s driveway and noticed their truck was missing as was Hoyt’s police car. A warm breeze rustled the wheat growing along your property line. 

A sour feeling gnawed at your stomach, urging you to grab your sunhat from its peg by the front door and take the short walk over to the dilapidated home. 

Thomas would be at work already and if Luda Mae wasn’t home, then neither would Charlie since his old age was starting to get to him. Maybe an animal had gotten hurt, you mused as if trying to convince yourself that the scream couldn’t have possibly been human.

“Hello?” The screen door was firmly shut but you couldn’t quite see anything in the dark hallway. You’d have to remind Luda Mae to open up the windows when she left the house for the day, again. 

The floorboards creaked as something moved around. You glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see Thomas’s hulking figure walking up the driveway to save you from having to go in and investigate. But alas, only a toad sat on the gravel, looking up at you with a bored expression, as much as a toad can have.

“If I get murdered, Thomas gets all my stuff.” You pointed at it before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

A coppery smell clung to the stale air, an almost constant of the home but today, it set you more on edge. After three years of living there, you could’ve navigated the house blindfolded but as you passed the switch, you flicked on the lights somehow hoping it would ease the twisting in your stomach.

“Hello?” You called again, passing by the kitchen, not noticing the now empty knife block. The basement door was open. “Hoyt I swear to god if this is you trying to be funny, I’ll kick your ass.” You glanced down the basement stairs, but only the single hanging bulb was visible in the dark. 

Just as you were turning to continue your search, something heavy threw itself into your chest, sending you down the steps. You slammed hard against the concrete floor, the air was ripped from your lungs violently as your ears began to ring. Footsteps thudded down the stairs. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as you tried desperately to breathe. 

“Get that rope.” You reached for the leg of Thomas’s workbench, your vision beginning to tunnel. A hand grabbed at your shoulder, forcing you onto your back. 

“She-she’s not one of them.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! She’s here isn’t she?” 

“Please.” You wheezed but you were only met with a fist to your jaw. Your eyes rolled.

“C’mon we can make a run for it now. We don’t have to hurt her.” The voices were growing distant.

“Would you just shut the fuck… up.” The last word trailed off as something else caught their attention. You dug your heels into the floor in an attempt to push yourself away from the two voices. The ache in your stomach was starting to ease but you still couldn’t fill your lungs all the way. 

Darkness suddenly covered you as the light from the dining room vanished. “Please.” You tried again but you were only met with silence. Wood creaked and suddenly, you were hauled up. 

“Get any closer and I’ll slit her fucking throat.” The cold metal of a blade pressed itself against your neck. A bitten off whimper slid past your lips as the tip dug into your skin. Your vision began to clear as adrenaline rushed through your veins. A huge shadow loomed at the top of the stairs, silently watching as the two people holding you back panicked.

“Thomas.” You tried to reach out to him. You caught the glint of metal before he raised his arm and threw a meat cleaver directly into the forehead of the one that had tried to run. They dropped like a sack of potatoes, eyes wide with fear as the life quickly left them. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” Their hold on you got looser as Thomas took one step forwards. His eyes glinted with anger, a rage you had never witnessed in your gentle giant before. His hands were curled into fists so tight that his knuckles were white, his shoulders raised, making him look even bigger.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as he steadily got closer. “Stay back!” But their tone wavered. You were pulled backwards as Thomas reached the middle of the stairs. “I’ll fucking kill her!” 

As slowly as you could, you began to reach into your front pocket for the small knife you always kept on you. The one Thomas had given you on your 16th birthday. His eyes flicked to you at your movement. You hissed as the knife against your throat pressed in deeper, nicking the delicate skin.

A sound akin to a growl rumbled through the basement. “Thomas no-“ The words had barely escaped you when suddenly the knife was pulled from your neck and shoved into your side. Coldness exploded from the wound like you had been plunged into a frozen lake as your body fell forwards.

A scream echoed through the home but it didn’t sound like your voice. It was warped and all wrong. You fell against something solid but also somehow soft. Its warmth drew your mind back for a moment, just enough to watch as one of Thomas’ massive hands coiled around the other man’s throat and squeezed with all his might.

He thrashed and struggled but he was no match for Thomas. There was a crunch, and then he went limp, his head lolling strangely on his neck. Thomas dropped his body like it was a piece of trash before all his attention shifted to you. 

Your own body was shaking in his hold but you were the furthest thing from scared. With the same hand he had just used to kill someone, he pressed down on your side, stopping the bleeding as best he could. “It’s ok, you saved me Thomas.” He shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. 

He eased you back onto the workbench making you wince as the first tinges of pain began to appear. “Thomas.” You reached for him but he stepped away from you and darted into the darkness of the basement. He was rummaging through something. You heard glass break while you clutched at your stomach. 

His lumbering footsteps returned and the bulb above you flicked on with a gentle hum. A bright red box was in his hands which he was looking through as he rushed back to you. “Talk to me.” You urged. He glanced at you then sighed heavily. 

Not yet, he gestured and pulled out a thick bandage. You let out a huffed laugh, letting him pull up your now ruined shirt to get access to the wound. His eyes narrowed before he let out a breath of relief. Not deep.

You bit down on your lip as he wrapped the bandage around your plush stomach, pulling it as tight as he could without causing you more pain than necessary. “Thank you for saving me.” He helped you to sit up, taking care not to put too much strain on you.

His bulk was all you could see now. He cupped your cheek, a move far bolder than you expected from the shy man. You nuzzled into his touch, unable to stop yourself. “You did so good Tommy.” He nodded and you finally smiled. His head dipped down as his eyes flicked to yours with a silent question, one you had been waiting for since you were 15. 

It was you who leaned in first, capturing his chapped lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He was frozen for just a second then melted into it, naturally meeting the soft push and pull of your mouth in a way that made your brain go fuzzy that wasn’t purely shock. He hesitated when he pulled away but he didn’t go far, only putting enough space between you in order to meet your gaze once more.

“Protect.” His voice deep and rough from disuse but as he gathered you into his arms and tugged you against his broad chest, you knew that he would do anything to do just that. And you couldn’t help but smile through the pain.

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[targaryenluvs]

if you’re still taking requests, what about a dark fic for coryo who takes advantage of a reader with one sided love for him, expecting her to be there for him and love him no matter what. so when he comes back to the capitol after all the district 12 drama expecting her to be his one consistency in life, he can’t take it when he sees she’s moved on

LATE TO THE PARTY!

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, you managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

warnings: dark!corio, possessiveness, unrequited love (both sides at different times), pining, stalkingish, home wrecker corio, nc kiss, paparazzi, power dynamics/abuse of power for selfish reasons and intimidation

a/n: let’s let corio chase our ass for once 🙄🙄 shorter than i expected but i just wrote it all so here you go!!!

his hair was different.

you didn’t mind it but it’d been a while since you’d seen coriolanus, in all his glory, family name restored, fortune acquired and highway to power paved out. old you, in-love-with-coriolanus you would’ve fainted.

but you had moved on from him.

you had charles now and you could not have asked for anyone better. he was always there for you, actually payed attention to you and was literally everything a girl dreamed for. and you are content. but at times you felt as if it was just that. content. he didn’t challenge you, and your thoughts. he didn’t ignite passion and fire within you, every time he looked at you it was, meh. the sex was vanilla and cute but you always were left frustrated. you were being treated as if you were fragile whilst you wanted roughness.

coriolanus could tell. ever since he came back and saw you with him, you never looked your best as you usually did. whether it was snappiness at interns or fiddling with your nails, something was up. and he took it as a sign, you needed saving. so he did exactly that.

charles had been away on business in district one for a month now. as if him being present and not doing the most when you were together wasn’t enough, now you had nothing. no one. and god were you pent up and frustrated. half of your interns were always stumbling over each other and the rest were too confident in themselves. you needed a vacation. even if for a night only. that came in the form of a party invitation.

if you’d known who’s party invitation then you would have been sure to decline.

the dress you wore wasn’t yours. your maid had delivered it to you whilst you were in your study working. she said it was left on the doorstep, no claim of responsibility but a letter.

I hope you choose to wear it, the dress is almost as gorgeous as you are, Y/n.

- C.S

and for the life of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of who it came from. but it truly was breathtaking there was no doubt about it. off the shoulders and red, it complimented you well.

you took note of the amount of reporters which was odd. but you were here to have a good time, best to not focus on them and ruin your day. you were so ready to stuff your face after barely having time for it through the day.

the party was surprisingly tame, there seemed to be a lot of whispering and stares pointed your way but you tried not to let it affect you. perhaps they were surprised by you attending alone? you and charles had decided not to rush your relationship so you’d kept it secret to the larger part of the captiol. only your family and friends knew. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of them knowing something you didn’t.

“everyone please gather for coriolanus outside.” you may have given yourself whiplash at the announcement. this was coriolanus’s party? you never expected him to be the type to hold one in all honestly, let alone dish out speeches. but there he stood tall and towering over. his eyes zeroed in on you the second you joined the moving crowd, it was unnerving to say the least.

the faces in the crowd were largely people you didn’t know personally, first names and last rung through your head as you smiled at some and walked past, trying to make your way to the front. but the crowd seemed to huddle, not letting you through for some reason. a hand on your wrist dragged you away, which had you pulling to have it let go of you. the swarms of heads and bodies obscured your vision and the person was unseen by you.

it wasn’t long before you were being pushed up steps and standing to the side of coriolanus. why the hell did they place you up here?

“the lovely y/n l/n-“ coriolanus stretched his open palm, inviting you to take it. the fuck is going on? your eyes were looking into his for an answer and his were looking at you, secretive. “has been the object of my desire, and after chasing her down, she’s agreed to marry me.” flashes went off every which way as you stood still. there’s no way i heard that right. right?

but him pressing his lips to yours and a hand to your back shook you out of your daydream as you pushed him away. not that anyone noticed. “what are you doing?” you scolded him, your back to the crowd as he smiled, his hand stroking your cheek before leaning down and whispering, “taking what’s mine.”

you couldn’t sleep that night, or in the morning. it was your day off from work yet no one was letting you rest. letters, videos, flowers and more sent to your apartment, all congratulating yourself and your fiancée coriolanus. bleh.

you didn’t even know how you were going to tell charles all that happened. would he believe you? would he hate you? how are you supposed to be with him whilst coriolanus announced your marriage. not engagement, marriage. as in this is happening, and we’re already engaged. you’d be breaking of a marriage that hadn’t been planned nor known, by you at least.

your answer came in the form of charles’s letter, wish you and coriolanus well.

My Dear Sweetheart,

I’d hoped to hear of your time away from me in a good way. That you’d made progress with the interns or been promoted.

But it seems in my time away I’ve left you alone, too alone, for you’ve found comfort in the arms of your past. I wish no ill towards you, nor your soon to be husband Coriolanus. The two of you are a fine match, made for eachother.

I only wish you had told me before I left, for I was planning on surprising you with a ring of my own. I guess it’ll have to wait for another. I know it is selfish of me to say so, but I cannot deny the feelings I still harbour for you.

You’re as kind as a mother, as gorgeous as ever, you remind me of the night stars, I know you will shine bright in the capitol. Your smile brings me to remember all the things I love about you. Your soft skin reminds of silk,and your gentle eyes bring me to sleep, I do hope Coriolanus appreciates you as much as I do. I am always here for you yet I will have to settle for the memories and another woman.

I love you my dear, and I wish you the best.

Yours Only,

Charles

it felt as if your heart had been ripped out, you’d lost the love of your life because of coriolanus’s selfishness. and you couldn’t ever escape from him now.

your love for him was for everyone to see, yet he dismissed it when he had it. but his love for you was a secret, kept close to his heart. he only noticed you once you’d moved on from him, and to coriolanus? you couldn’t move on. too bad you didn’t see it till now.

you were late to the party.

[squoxle]

[9] • WHY DO YOU HATE ME? - H. KAI

skater!bully!huening kai x loner!junkie!reader

plot: working alongside your ex-best friend, who's also a full-time asshole, turns hot after a heated conversation... | wc: 3.9k | cw: angst, mentions of death and suicide, drug and alcohol abuse, other sensitive topics, smut

From your point of view, life continued for three reasons;

1. For your family…the only friends you had.

2. Another episode of you current obsession, and

3. The next cigarette...or cancer stick as your next door neighbor liked to call it.

Sometime your third reason helped you the most. One puff relived the stress and every one after that made life a little easier. Oftentimes, smoking was like an escape for you. A way to cope with the shitty hand the universe had dealt you.

You lived in a cheap apartment. And all of the money you made was split between you and your parents. There was a shared belief in your family that the children should take care of their parents when they move out. Assisting in whatever way they could.

This belief is what compelled you to send money to your family. It wasn’t a burden. You knew that if you ever needed a place to stay that you were always welcome back home. The only problem being that you couldn’t shake your smoking habit. And that was the reason you had to go in the first place.

You seen all the stupid YouTube videos about what happens to your lungs when you smoke and how much money you could save if you weren’t buying packs of cigarettes weekly, but none of that mattered to you. After the death of your only friend near the end of senior year, life seemed almost impossible.

Meaningless and empty without Eve by your side.

You held onto those three reasons because everything in you wished for one more day with your friend. Just one more day to tell her how much you loved her. And at this point, the sweet taste of death was the only thing separating you from her.

You grew up as an only child for most of your life. By the time your mom had your little brother, you were already 14 years old. Around that time you met Eve.

You had just started high school and up until freshman year, you were known to be a loner.

You walked into your first class of the day, sitting in the chair furthest to the back of the classroom and that’s when you met her for the first time.

“I’m Eve,” she smiled, extending her hand to you. The two of you were like complete opposites. She was warm, cheery, and full of life. You on the other hand felt like the world had been against you since birth.

One more detail about Eve is that she was a huge chatterbox. Since the two of you rode the bus together, you never felt alone. The darkness that was your life felt a little brighter with her around. Even your mom noticed the positive change in your behavior.

“You sure look happy,” your mom raised her brow as you looked at your phone.

“Yeah, I met this really cool girl at school today. Her name is Eve,” you smiled.

“Well maybe you should invite her over sometime. Anyone that can make you smile like that must be really special.”

And she was…Eve was really special to you.

You could talk to her about anything. She wasn’t just an expert at talking, she was also a great listener. Sometimes her advice wasn’t the best, but you were both kids at the time.

You just wish that she would’ve talked to you the day before…she killed herself. You always blamed yourself for her death. There had to have been a sign that she was hurting, but maybe you were too selfish to see it.

You had both started senior year together and all you ever talked about were how the two of you would move out together and graduate from the same college. You saw a life with her…and all of that was over in one night.

You think about it every day. What makes it even worse is that your co-worker is the biggest asshole you’d ever known.

You were never brave enough to stand up to him. Maybe because you felt like the fight just wasn’t worth it. But he knew Eve too. The three of you were friends before her death. Your past friendship is probably another reason why you wouldn’t speak up.

When you really think about it…a lot changed after she died. You started smoking and Kai seemed to hate you for no reason.

You never knew why…

“You’re locking up tonight,” he said as he slammed the cash register.

“What?!”

“You heard me,” he spat, turning to you. “You’re locking up tonight because I’m heading out early.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I have a life too y’know.”

“Do I look like I care?” You stared at him blankly before he continued, “Exactly, just do what the fuck I told you,” he swatted his hand before walking to the back to grab his things.

“You can’t expect me to do all of this by myself,” the gas station you worked at was extremely understaffed and you two were often the only ones at work.

“You can handle it,” he leaned down, picking up his skateboard before heading toward the front door.

“This is so fucked up,” you slammed you hand against the counter. “You’re such a fucking dick,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“You know what’d be really fucked up?” He asked softly walking back over to the register. “If you had a little accident at work,” he tilted his head to the side. “It’d be pretty hard to come to work if you slipped and hurt yourself. Wouldn’t it?”

You lowered your gaze, afraid to say something stupid and not in the mood to hear anymore of his threats. You knew better than to push him…he’d done a number of things to torture you.

You thought back to the one time he took your phone and locked you in the storage closet over night because you wouldn’t stay after hours and wax the floors.

You watched as he walked out with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You sighed deeply, striking your lighter as you lit your cigarette.

You parted your lips, letting the clouds of grey smoke fill the air as you took out the trash before turning off all the lights and locking up for the night.

Without Eve your life felt like Groundhog Day. A continuous, endless, hell-like loop of waking up, clocking in, and clocking out to do it all over again. The most diversity you had in your life was a new assignment.

Oh and to make life even better, Kai went to the same school as you. A cheap community college where you could earn your associates before taking out student loans to get your bachelors.

Sometimes you wondered if life ever got any better from here…

A few days later, you were working the cash register with Kai when he decided to take his break in the middle of the 12 o’clock rush. “Perfect,” you sighed sarcastically. “Just fucking perfect,” you rolled your eyes as you prepared yourself to deal with the line of customers that had wrapped around one of the aisles.

“You should smile more often,” a man smiled. He looked to be about 40 or 50.

“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering why he would even say something like that.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged pulling out a $20. “Life is beautiful. There’s a lot to smile about.”

“Right,” you scoffed.

“You should try it sometime,” he smiled as you handed him the receipt.

“M’kay,” you shook you head, wanting nothing more than for him to just take his shit and leave.

“Thank you so much sir for pointing that out,” Kai came out grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire Cat.

“You’re welcome. I just know how much a smile can change the working environment for everyone.”

“Exactly,” Kai nodded. “____, I don’t wanna have to write you up for this because I know how much you need this job. But you’re gonna have to change your attitude.”

You sighed as you rubbed the spot between your eyebrows. Another detail that you hated to remember and often forgot was that Kai was your manager…and the reason you got this job in the first place.

Ironically you started working here during your last year of high school. You planned to earn some money for college to give you a bit of a head start, which only somewhat worked out in your favor.

To be honest, the pay here was pretty good and better than any other option. You assumed this had a lot to do with the low staff.

Anyways, you were hoping that Kai was only joking about writing you up until you were called into the office for a staff meeting on Friday.

“Look, ____. We’re already very low on staff as I’m sure you know. And it’s hard to keep customers coming back if you’re out there looking like you want a bullet in your head,” the owner said, folding his hands.

“That’s probably because I do,” you mumbled to yourself.

“All I’m saying is, try to look at least somewhat pleasant. You don’t have to go overboard, just be natural, okay?”

“Yeah, okay," you shook your head as Kai sat next to you.

"Thanks again, Kai. I really appreciate you for bringing this to my attention. I've been noticing a decline in customer reviews and now I know why."

"No problem," he smiled giving you a look that made you wanna knock his teeth out.

Kai closed the door to the main office as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“I can’t believe you actually fucking ratted me out,” you spat.

“I’m only doing what’s best for the—“

“Drop the fucking act,” you sneered. “We both know you don’t really give a damn. Because if you did I wouldn’t be locking up at night by myself. You’d be there helping me out and not somewhere just jerking off. Y’know what? Maybe I should go tell the boss about what you’re doing since we’re in the bitching business,” you turned around, but just as you tried walking away Kai grabbed your arm, pulling you back and throwing you to the ground.

“Don’t be such a stupid fucking bitch,” he spat.

“You did the same thing to me,” you brushed yourself off as you stood to your feet only to be pushed back down to the ground.

“If I were you I’d quit while I was ahead,” he knelt down.

“I’m tired of you treating me like shit, Kai. I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“If you really believe that you’re even dumber than I thought you were.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, looking him dead in the eye. You don’t know what came over you, but you had never been brave enough to stand up for yourself.

“I’d watch my tongue if I were you,” he pressed his forearm against your neck. “Karma can be a real bitch y’know,” your eyes watered as he held you against the wall. You felt weak and powerless against him and you hated it, but there really was nothing you could do about it. Or at least that’s how you felt.

Your bottom lip quivered as he slowly let you go. You sucked in your breath, catching a tear with your sleeve before running off to the bathroom. You cried in there, more than you had in a really long time.

And that evening, after closing early, you smoked through a whole pack. You were on the last one as Kai was walking back to the store. You assumed he’d forgotten something inside as he unlocked the door.

Catching the sight of you, smoking behind the register, he walked up and slapped the cigarette out of your mouth, casting ashes across the floor. “What the fuck?” You spat, picking up the bud before sticking it back between your lips.

“You know that shit could kill you right?”

“I already feel dead,” you hummed, pulling out your lighter. “This is the only thing that makes me feel alive,” you continued, striking the lighter.

“Well you can die on your own time,” he snatched the cigarette out of your pursed lips. “I don’t wanna be the one cleaning up after your corpse when your lungs collapse.”

He looked in the small trash can underneath the register where he saw more than 15 burnt buds and an empty packet. “Did you smoke this whole pack?”

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“You wouldn’t care anyway. You obviously hate me.”

“Don’t let me catch you smoking again,” he spat.

“You’re not my fucking dad. You can’t tell me what to do,” you reached to try and get your last cigarette back as he shoved you into the counter, putting the bud out on the countertop beside you.

“Next time it’ll be your hand,” he sneered. “Now, clean this shit up and get this disgusting fucking smell out of here,” you forcefully wiped the tear from your eye as he walked away. Grabbing whatever he needed before walking out again.

Sometimes you wondered if this was why Kai always messed with you, because he got a kick out of seeing you cry.

As sadistic as it sounded, it couldn’t be any closer to the truth which you learned later that week one night when Kai told you to close by yourself again. The only difference was that he was somewhat tipsy at this point.

He had been drinking a lot more after the altercation you had in the hallway. You wondered if it was because he felt guilty, finally seeing the error of his ways.

“Can you at least take out the fucking trash before you go?” You spat as he walked to the back putting his stuff away. “Please,” you threw your hand up.

“If I do it will you shut your big fucking mouth?”

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes. He was in an even pissier mood when he drank, but surprisingly he was more useful. He’d do almost anything you asked him to do as long as you bitched about it enough.

“Thank you,” you smiled as he mumbled to himself throwing two bags over his shoulder, and dragging another two out the back door with him.

You heard bottles clanking outside as you shut down the register. Another loud crashing sound shook you up as you called out Kai’s name. You were feeling a bit annoyed at this point. “I don’t even make that amount of noise when I take out the trash,” you sighed.

More noises and no reply from Kai led you to go outside and check on him yourself, leaving your phone in the counter. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You spat as you saw him throwing glass bottles against the wall with bloody hands.

“Kai! Stop it!” You shouted as he shielded his ear with his shoulder.

“Can you stop fucking yelling at me and just go back inside,” he rolled eyes, launching another bottle at the wall.

“No because after you’re done fucking around like a jackass I’m gonna have to come out here and clean this shit up.”

“No you’re not,” he hummed.

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not,” his words slurred together at this point.

“Yes. I am.”

“No you’r—“ you ripped the bottle out of his bloody grasp.

“You’re way too fucking drunk right now. Just get the hell out of here and go home already.”

“Where are you going,” he asked sounding slightly frustrated.

You started to walk back inside, “I’m gonna go get a broom to clean this shit up,” you sighed. “Someone has too,” you reached your hand out to open the door only to jump, quickly turning around after hearing rapid footsteps approach you.

Kai had pinned you against the door, slamming it shut as he held another bottle in his hand. He broke it beside you head and held it to your neck. “If you scream I’ll cut your throat open right here,” he slurred.

“Get off of me you drunk bastard!” You yelled, squirming in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp. He slapped you in the face with his bloody hand before clenching your jaw.

Tears filled your eyes as you stamped your feet against the ground. You beat against his chest as your arms were stuck in one position. “Kai!” You cried. “Stop it! Please,”

“Why should I? You’re not my mom,” he pressed against you harder, crushing your hands beneath his weight.

“Why do you hate me?” You choked on tears as you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Shh!” He put a bloody finger against your lips.

“No, I want you to tell me why you hate me so much. It doesn’t make sense. We used to be friends before…before Eve killed herself,” it was silent for a moment as Kai lowered his head, he body started to tremble as a tear dropped from his face.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He shouted repeatedly slamming your body against the metal door, dropping the broken bottle.

“You’re hurting me, Kai! Stop it!” You yelled as you felt a pain tugging at your bones. “Please,” your voice shook.

He rested his hands on your shoulders before falling to your knees. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “God, I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried.

You knelt down and lifted his teary face. “It’s okay, Kai. I miss her too,” you sniffled before wrapping your arms around him.

He pulled away gently, looking up at you with teary eyes. “I’m really sorry, _____,” he apologized. “I’ve been such a dick…”

“And I don’t even understand why…”

“D’you remember the day before Eve died?”

“Of course I do…I think about it almost everyday.”

“What if I told you it’s my fault she’s dead…”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“She called me…”

“She did?! Why didn’t you ever tell me? What did she say?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you…but she told me to be happy…”

“I don’t understand. Why did she say that?”

“Did you ever notice how she was around you? Like the way she behaved. Did she ever seem like she liked you as more than just a friend?”

“I-uhh…I never paid attention to it.”

“Yeah well she really liked you, but when she found out I liked you too, she started to back off some. Things really took a turn for the worse when her parents heard us arguing one night—“

“What were you arguing about?”

“She had started hurting herself…”

“Like cutting?”

“Yeah…and I guess it didn’t get any better…I should’ve told someone,” he said softly as tears trickled down his cheeks.

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But if I would’ve told someone she might still be here…”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“It could’ve helped her…she also called me a few nights before she died and told me that her parents found out about her crush on you…I don’t really know how…but they did and she was really upset about that. Do you think her parents are the reason she killed herself?”

“We can’t know for sure…she didn’t really leave us any way of knowing why. But I think you should listen to her and be happy. Just look at the way we’ve separated…”

Kai looked down at his bloody hands, “____…”

“Yes?”

Kai cradled your face in his hands before kissing you on the lips. One kiss turned to three and the next thing you knew his lips were all over your neck as he groped your tit in his hand.

Not a single word was spoken as breathless moans took the place of speech. You grabbed his hair in your hand, untying the small bun he wore as you tousled his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he pulled you closer.

You pulled his head away as his lips fell to your chest. “What?”

“Don’t you think this is kinda fast?”

“We can think about that in the morning,” he hummed, kissing your neck again.

You held Kai’s hand as he took you inside. He picked you up, placing you on the metal cabinet as he kissed you, unbuttoning his pants.

“What about a condom?”

“Do I look like the type of guy to just have a condom in his wallet?”

“I…uh…”

“Exactly. Don’t worry…I’ll pull out,” he shrugged as you pulled your pants down. You watched as his dick sprang out of his boxers.

You climbed back onto the cabinet, spreading your legs as he stepped between them, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ngh!” You moaned as he pushed through.

“Mmm,” he hummed feeling your walls contract around him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he pumped into you. He nuzzled his face into yours, bringing your lips back to his as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned as you felt yourself coming close to finishing. You threw your head back as he sucked onto your neck. You squeezed your thighs around him, pulling him closer as you climaxed.

"Fuck," he swore.

"What?"

"I'm gonna cum," he bit his lip as he started to pull back.

"I don't care," you pulled him closer, kissing him again.

"But I thought you--"

"We'll think about it in the morning," you whispered as he pumped every drop of his hot load into you.

Everything from here became a blur until the two of you woke up in the backroom. You were laying between his legs as he rested his back against the metal cabinet.

"Shit," you spat as your eyes shot open. "We have to be ready to open in like 30 minutes," you said, scrambling to your feet.

"No way," Kai rubbed his eyes, looking up to see the analog clock on the wall, confirming what you just said.

The two of you scrambled to open up. He wiped off the cabinet from the two of you last night and you worked together to restock the coffee station and check the slushee maker.

"I'll take care of the mess outside," he chuckled, ruffling his hair. You handed him the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. It was the same one you took off of him last night. "Thanks," he smiled before kissing you on the cheek.

"Hey, for the record," you hollered. "Whatever happened last night doesn't change anything between us. I still hate you," you smirked.

"I hate you too," he smiled before heading out the back door.

What happened from this day on is hard to explain. It was like the two of you went back to being friends, but something else tugged at your heart aside from the memory of your dead friend. You were starting to like Kai and you could tell that he liked you too, but dating each other just didn't feel right.

As far as sex was concerned, it hadn't happened again since the first time you did it, which was about 3 weeks ago. Even though you did have the occasional makeout session that never seemed to last long enough.

Maybe there were 4 reasons why life continued for you...and he was definitely one of them.

a.n.: I wanted to add more detail to this one, but I didn’t want it to be too long. Sorry if it feels rushed.

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

@chlorinecake

@wonbinisbabygurl

@nishiimuranights

@wildflowermooon

@heeseungshim

@ramyeonzprincess

@bangchans-gf5

@wand3rlustm3

@heeseunghee7

@norihoyeon

@gacktsa

@hyunj00

@mimikittysblog (not sure how much you're into moody kai lol)

[bonny-kookoo]

OT7

The Twilight State | Freezing

What will your place be?

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Bangtan, OT7 x Reader, cold climate, a lot of physical affection/contact, angst, romance, fluff, more warnings TBA

Length: 4.4k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When Jungkook was nothing more than a child barely able to walk, he had already been named Unjha- a word of the old language meaning ‘Cobweb Child’.

His mother passed when he was born, his father long gone as well, leaving him with nothing but the group she used to be a part of. And due to the fact that he was never nursed, he became sickly- always causing trouble with his health, soon just named a burden to any group to ever take him with them.

He was nine when they left him one night.

But he had survived long enough to be picked up by another group- who at least brought him to the nearest town to stay at and recover some of his strength. When the people there left, he left with them as well- his journey never consistent, always with someone else until he became fourteen- and met a young man by the name of Seokjin, who had a group of his own that he was travelling with.

That’s when he found something called home.

He thrived a few years after realizing that this group was now his family- becoming the exact opposite of who he was as a child. Now strong and healthy, he’s now there wherever help is needed, and takes over any task that needs taken care of. And he’s also known as one of the kindest person around- most likely due to his past.

“There’s a fire there.” Jimin notices, pointing towards a small, orange light in the distance. “They should start moving soon.” He worries, getting Jungkook’s attention as he leans over Taehyung’s shoulder, who’s holding the reigns of the Sarril they’ve been travelling forever with. “Maybe we should check of everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, let’s see if they might need something.” Namjoon mentions from the back of the carriage, closing his book. “Remember how the last group spoke about Vrax attacking again. They might be in trouble.” He mumbles, as Taehyung steers the large animal to pull their carriage towards the little fire.

But the closer they get, the odder the scene becomes.

There’s no sign of a group at all- though Ros becomes more and more hesitant to walk any closer to the spot, most likely due to the clear signs of a fight now visible in the snow, though no blood is to be seen. “It must’ve been an attack. She’s becoming uneasy.” Taehyung offers, noticing the behavior of the Sarril now standing still, uncomfortably lowering her head as she instead scratches on the snowy grounds until her claws hit the ice.

“It’s fine like this.” Jungkook says, jumping down. “We’ll be right back.” He says after running a hand over the neck of the beast, before he and Hoseok walk towards the fire to investigate.

Jungkook almost trips over your body.

“Oh..!” He gasps out, caught off guard as Hoseok walks closer as well. “Hey.. Where's your group?” He wonders towards you, a bit quiet and almost fearful as he squats lower to move your face, and check if you’re alive at all.

You are.

“She most likely doesn’t understand.” Hoseok observes. “Look at her neck.” He points out, the thick leather collar around your neck also having the metal plate with your ID on it- the group plate that should be hanging from the front gone, only a few silver rings remaining where the tag would’ve been.

Ripped off. You’ve been thrown out.

Jungkook offers help to at least somewhat turn you over and look for any injuries. “She’s human, Kook.” Hoseok reminds him. “She’s probably dying from the cold. I’ll go ask Namjoon what we’ll do.” he offers, before leaving to get back to the group and figure out the situation.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do.

He’s never encountered a human so closely before, has no idea what he can do to help other than run back to the carriage to get some spare blankets and string. You’re cold- so maybe warming you up could save you? He could wrap you up for now and carry you back, have you warm up inside while they figure out what to do.

Yeah, that’s a good plan. Anything but leave you here.

“Her group-tag has been removed. There’s nothing on her but her clothes and her ID on her collar. They didn’t even leave her any food or water.” Hoseok sighs, explaining the situation to the rest of the group.

"She was used as bait, in that case." Yoongi dryly explains. "Gives an explanation as to how she survived an attack. Vrax don't eat humans- but other groups use them as distraction to avert attention anyways in case they encounter them along the way." He says.

"That's horrible.." jimin whines, watching how further away at the pitiful fire, Jungkook tries to help move you. "Well, at least she got away.."

"She most likely won't survive." Namjoon hums darkly, having seen you after all. "We don't know how long she's been out here, but her state is more than worrisome." He shakes his head.

"We should at least bring her to another town-" Taehyung wonders.

"For what? So that we'll be excluded from trading because we brought another mouth to feed instead of anything valuable?" Yoongi snaps. "We can't afford that. The long night is approaching, we shouldn't be stopping in the first place.." he argues.

"I doubt he'll give her up like that." Hoseok sighs. "He seems very attached already.."

"Then he'll have to detach himself quickly." Namjoon agrees with his other friend. "We can't afford to care for her." He shakes his head.

Jungkook, meanwhile, is busy fastening some rope around the blankets he'd rolled you up in, in no way thinking about just leaving you here all by yourself. He knows what it's like to be left alone and behind just because you're considered nothing but weight- he won't be letting you feel that. You deserve a place and group just as much as he did, back then.

Your eyes are barely open as you look at him, now all bundled up in multiple blankets. "You.. probably won't understand what I'm saying, but I'll bring you to the carriage now." He tells you. You want to answer, want to tell him that you do, somewhat, understand him- but you're just too tired. You can't really even think very well- as if your thoughts are about to freeze, everything slow as he turns around and moves you onto his back to be carried towards the large carriage.

"Jungkook- do not get your hopes up with her." Yoongi tries, but Jungkook shakes his head as he lays you down where he usually sleeps.

"I'm not. I'm aware of what might happen." He says, shutting the entrance. "But she deserves to have a chance." He worries. "And even if she's too far gone, no one should die alone." Jungkook shakes his head, sitting close to you, Jimin placing another blanket over you.

"…Let's go then, for now, so we don't fall behind any further." Namjoon sighs. "We'll need all the time we can gain to bury her appropriately later." He simply informs Yoongi, who moves to sit up front with Taehyung, to control the reigns and move the carriage again.

And Jungkook watches you with worry, hoping that you won't need a burial.

Hoping that you'll stay.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Is that okay?” Jungkook worries, watching you sleep amongst all the blankets and pelts, rope undone by now since you don’t need to be carried anywhere anytime soon with the way they need to travel for now. Time isn’t on their side- in order to escape the long Dark a bit longer, they need to catch up a bit more distance. “She’s not eaten anything yet..”

“Humans don’t typically eat or drink when they’re severely sick.” Namjoon explains. “their metabolism slows down, as well as most bodily functions. It’s like.. they go into an emergency state, only letting the most crucial processes continue.” He mumbles while he makes sure the concoction he’s making is clear in the bottle. “She most likely won’t like the taste of this, but she’ll need to hydrate soon. But for now let her rest.” He tells the youngest of the group, who nods, while Namjoon moves to the side again to read.

He’s surprised you’ve not passed yet. If anything, you’re regaining a bit of color- your shaking having spooked most of the group pretty badly, thinking you maybe got possessed or infected with some disease- but Namjoon and Yoongi explained that it’s a normal reaction of the body to try and heat up quicker.

Now, you’re still. Only occasionally moving a little. And when your eyes open, it’s usually not for very long before you fall asleep again- so Jungkook has to wait for a chance to get some of that drink into you. It looks and smells like what he himself drinks whenever he’s not feeling well- meant to help the body in gaining enough energy to work properly.

The moment you open your eyes again for a second, he takes his chance, carefully helping you somewhat sit with all the blankets around you. “I know you’re tired but- ah, you don’t even know what I’m saying anyways..” He chuckles a bit faintly, before offering the glass bottle with the lukewarm drink Namjoon made. You accept it, though need a bit of help from his hand supporting yours as they hold the bottle to drink from it.

When Jimin enters the carriage, he smiles.

“Looks like someone’s up again.” He says, sitting down in his sleeping corner. “Namjoon’s apparently wrong. She looks a lot better already.” Jimin mentions, watching you from his spot.

“She’s still very tired, but I think she’s getting back.” Jungkook agrees. “What.. What do you think they’ll decide?” He wonders towards his friend, as you set down the bottle for now, stretching your legs for a second before you continue to drink some more. You don’t understand all of what’s said- but enough to somewhat connect the meaning of the sentences spoken.

“I’m not sure. We don’t have enough time to divert to another town- considering how far behind we already are.” He explains, before he moves to open a wooden chest he takes some clothes out of. “Yoongi told me she can wear some of his clothes for now, so she doesn’t have to stay under the blankets all the time.” Jimin says, putting them on your lap with a smile.

“So we won’t leave her again?” Jungkook wonders, when a low voice speaks up, entering the carriage as well.

“No.” Yoongi responds, boldly sitting next to you to move your face a bit to check up on you. “But she’s your responsibility.” He tells Jungkook, after leaving you alone again, making you look after him for a moment, before everyone else enters as well, ready to go to sleep most likely.

You’ve woken up already, occasionally, so you know how they all manage to sleep in here. They all kind of follow a behavior similar to penguins- sleeping closely together to share body heat. You’re always somewhat moved into the middle, currently the most vulnerable member of the group.

It shows that this group actually cares, even if they act like they don’t. Or.. Some do.

Jungkook doesn’t actually seem to mind at all that you’re now his ‘responsibility’, as he moves the blankets to help you slip into a thick sweater. “There. You look a lot more awake!” He smiles, and you nod, surprising him.

“Thank.” You say, not very fluent in his language- but he understands.

“So you do understand!” He says, and you shake your head, making a pinching motion with your fingers.

“Only bit.” You explain. “Listen- well. Speak- no.” You tell him, and Jimin chimes up at that, coming closer together with Hoseok, who’s interest got sparked as well. You know their names by now from listening in on conversations you couldn’t drown out.

“That’s amazing.” Hoseok nods. “That makes things a lot easier for us.”

“Did your past group not teach you proper language skills?” Namjoon questions, and you can hardly really make out what he means- so you shake your head after a while.

“She was a slave, not a member.” Taehyung shrugs as he takes out his blanket to get his own spot ready to sleep. “It’s not surprising.”

You tap at your collar at the mention of that, but Yoongi shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that, for now.” He simply says with very simple words so you can understand a bit better, probably aware of the fact that you want to know what your position in this group will be. “Just.. Heal. I guess.” He mumbles, before he gets his own spot ready, Jungkook smiling kindly before he helps you crawl into the middle with all your blankets, basically carrying you halfway instead when he notices your legs being still a bit shaky.

You’re not really used to sleeping in the middle of a group- but you’re starting to really enjoy it.

Especially when, despite everyone’s hesitance, Jungkook and Taehyung end up basically hugging you- even Yoongis legs touching yours beneath all the blankets.

Maybe this could become your final stay.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re not sure for how long you’ve slept- but it can’t have been long, considering that everyone else is still fast asleep, huddled together.

You’ve never really witnessed this whole scene- everyone still resting, cuddled together and only sometimes moving a little while they dream. It’s a serene moment, a sight you almost feel like you shouldn’t be able to see-

But there’s something off.

You sit up, slowly to not wake anyone, listening to your surroundings. The wind has picked up quite a bit, pushing against the wooden carriage every now and then, and you wonder if the group’s Sarril is holding up against the change in weather. You know they’re very resilient and can withstand much more than just some bad weather, but still, you worry. Maybe you should check?

You’re not sure why you feel such urgency.

You pick up someone’s sweater, thick fabric able to keep you warm enough for a short bit, as you pull the hood of it over your head, tying the strings to keep it from being blown off right away. And you’re surprisingly able to somehow sneak out of the cuddled up group as well without really waking anyone- they’ll most likely only notice once your spot becomes colder.

So you have to hurry to not alarm anyone.

Quickly opening the back door and tarp, you jump down and almost tumble to your knees- having underestimated the height of it all by quite a bit. Their kind is way taller than humans after all, so it shouldn’t be surprising- but you’re lucky down the line, not having hurt yourself in your little fall.

You walk towards the front where the Sarril is curled up but curiously lifting her head to look at you coming closer, in no distress. Snow is piling up against her big body, but her wooly sheep-like coat shields her from the freezing temperatures. You reach out to pet her-

When you notice it.

She must’ve accidentally pulled the reigns down and gotten her back pair of legs tangled- unable to move without shaking the entire carriage. It wasn’t the wind that was moving the thing- it was her, in an effort to get free. “Let’s see..” you mumble to yourself, before you carefully assess the situation, slowly untainted the leather reigns to not startle her.

A Kick from those thick, clawed hooves could be deadly after all, even if it’s not her intention.

“What are you doing?” a menacing voice asks you, one you’ve come to connect with Yoongi- bit you’re too close to freeing her to answer him right away, as you hear him get closer. He looks over your shoulder to observe your hands gently pulling the reigns away now, his own on your shoulder to pull you away if you were doing something bad-

But suddenly the Sarril is stretching her legs almost in satisfaction, flute-like sound emitting from her throat before she nods her head, happily turning towards you as if to offer her thanks. It’s clumsy, the fact that she doesn’t know that she’s much bigger and stronger than you almost ending in pushing you over, but you instead accept the gesture, while Yoongi watches.

“How did you know?” yoongi demands to know, watching you pet her, your hands already red from the cold.

“Uh..” you point at the carriage. “shake. Weird.” You mention, pointing to your stomach. “weird.. feel. Emotion.” You try and explain, searching for the right word. “Instinct?” You say, and he watches you, before he nods, understanding.

“hm. Thanks.” He mumbles, before he helps you up and pats off the snow from your clothes. “now come back. You caused worry.” He huffs, helping you back into the carriage where both Jungkook and a sleepy Jimin exhale in relief almost at seeing you again.

“where was she?” hoseok asks, yawning while Namjoon simply moves the blankets to welcome you back beneath, without any words.

“outside. Ros had somehow gotten her legs tangled in the reigns.” Yoongi explains while Jungkook helps you back next to him where he eagerly moves the blankets back over you to warm you up again. “She said she.. felt weird? That’s how she noticed.”

“Humans call it a gut feeling.” Namjoon yawns. “though.. it doesn’t have anything to do with their intestines..” he mumbles, laying back down while Taehyung looks at you.

“thank you.” He offers, and you nod. “I must’ve not put the reigns up properly..” he tells himself mostly, before he too lays back down to resume his rest.

And as you now find yourself back in the warmth of the group, knowing that the loyal animal outside is well too, you can finally find some sleep as well.

Dreaming of nothing but snow and winds.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re sitting next to Taehyung and Jungkook up front, dressed in clothes not your size, but somewhat adjusted with strings Jimin had helped tie in some places. Jungkook checks in with you often to make sure that you’re not too cold- but you don’t want to just be uselessly existing around.

The next small outpost is up ahead. They all seem oddly eager to get there- as if something’s or someone is waiting for them there.

Time is tough to calculate. You’re not sure why you can’t just exist like the rest of them with no feel for it- time doesn’t really matter to them as much as it does to you. But that’s because they all grew up without focusing on it too much- you didn’t. “we need to buy her some proper attire.” Yoongi mumbles walking next to the Sarril moving the carriage.

Jungkook smiles a bit impishly. He’s aware that the grumpy looking friend must’ve changed his mind about you.

“An outpost would be a bad place to leave her- you’re right.” Namjoon agrees from the other side, reminding him that not all share the same views however. Namjoon still clearly does not have you in mind as a permanent part of the group- and he can somewhat understand it. A bigger group is safer, after all- but it’s also harder to feed.

But that doesn’t mean he agrees with him.

The moment you arrive at the camp, you spot someone familiar- someone the group walks towards as well, before they hug him. “where did you find her?” he wants to know, disbelief clear in his face and voice as he looks at you standing amongst his group.

“She was left by a fireplace.” Yoongi informs his friend. “do you know her, Jin?”

“not personally, but fleetingly.” He offers, before he walks closer to you. “they said you got killed during an attack?” He questions you, but you shake your head.

“She was injured- but very mildly. She was mostly freezing.” Namjoon explains. “But she recovered, much to my surprise.” He adds, watching how his older friend kindly runs a hand over your head, a common gesture for older members of a group to greet the younger ones.

“I’m glad you made it then.” Seokjin tells you, and you smile, with Jungkook right behind you now. “I assume you must be happy to finally not be the youngest anymore? After all I can sense she’s not quite the same age as you.” He jokes, making Jungkook instantly look over to Namjoon.

“She’s not part of the group.” Namjoon states, though his tone is a lot softer than when he’d say that before. “We’re simply.. Trying to find a place for her to stay.”

“Oh, I see.” Seokjin nods. “Well, until we find that place, I will still treat her as part of the group.” He almost teasingly states, before taking your hand in his. “So, I shall find my groupmate something proper to eat.” He smiles charmingly, before he walks off with you towards the several fires and people making and selling food. “He will warm up. Don’t worry.” Jin tells you more quietly now that he’s with you alone, the rest of the group having held back Jungkook to instead help lift some heavy crates of food rations.

“It’s fine.” You reassure, slipping on the icy frozen puddles here and there- though Jin’s hand on your back always steadies you, while also being unable to not laugh at your clumsiness. “Why.. You, here?” You ask, and he nods to himself.

“I was visiting relatives.” He explains. “But I will return to You and the others from today on. Maybe I can help you soften up the tough shell of some of the groupmembers.” He jokes, and you smile, nodding.

You really want to stay with them- so hopefully, Seokjin can help you achieve that.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“She sure has an appetite.” Yoongi mumbles, as he sits down next to Jungkook who’s just dug into his own second serving of soup, while you still spoon yours into your mouth.

“Thats good, isn’t it?” Jungkook chirps happily. “shows she’s healthy.” He says, looking at you- who nods, before eating more slowly. Jungkook frowns a bit at that, though understands that you might’ve misunderstood what little you could translate for yourself. “you can eat well here! Since Jin’s family stays here, we eat in exchange for less money.” He tries to explain it in easier words, and you nod.

Still, you feel a bit odd about it. What if they don’t take you with them? You don’t want to just.. use their money just to end up not actually offering anything in return. There has to be something you can do for them as well.

“its getting cold.” Yoongis voice is heard, and you look up at that, noticing he means your food- and you nod obediently, returning to your meal. “I feel like she might need a task.” He says, and you look up at that, before you nod eagerly.

“Huh? No, she doesn’t-“ Jungkook wonders, before Yoongi shakes his head.

“She does. Everyone in a group has a task.” He says, and at that, Seokjin joins you at the table.

“How about she keeps the carriage organized and tidy?” He offers, sitting next to you. “She could help put away the blankets after we sleep, or keep track of all the things we carry around. It would certainly take some weight off of my shoulders, and Namjoon wouldn’t have to be scolded for his messy habits every time we forget or misplace something.” He chuckles, Jungkook laughing as well.

“I agree with that idea.” Yoongi nods. “do you?” He asks you, and you think for a second, before you realize what he’s asking. So you nod- of course you can take on that job!

“we shouldn’t give her a task just yet.” Namjoon intervenes, sitting down next to Yoongi while the other’s also join in at the table with their food. “That’s up to her future group, not us.”

Everyone’s silent at that- understanding, but there’s also a slight wave of disappointment going around, especially when looking at Jungkook- who suddenly boldly so, gets up as he notices you’ve finished eating. “come- you must be tired. I’ll show you how to make a proper sleeping place.” He offers, as he helps you off the bench. But surprisingly, Yoongi also gets up- making Namjoon look at him with question.

“Someone’s gotta stand watch over them.” He simply says as a poor excuse, following you and Jungkook back to the carriage.

You’re surprised to see Taehyung following as well, the tall alien not having interacted with you much- but his interest is certainly caught at the sight of the most quiet member of the group visibly growing attached to you. Jungkooks behaviour is understandable after all- his childhood having shaped him into someone who aims to help whomever he can. And he most likely sees a bit of himself in you.

But Yoongi? That’s certainly new.

Yoongi has always been easy to talk to, and he himself is someone who can talk anyone into anything it seems like- but he’s only ever been loyal to his own group, and never interested in anyone in such nature that he’s now clearly portraying. To anyone else, he might not have changed much- but Taehyung notices the difference in how he carefully helps you into the carriage, making sure Jungkook has a good hold on your hands before he lets go of your legs. Only once you’re in does he get in himself- and once they all find themselves in their ‘home’ again, he’s already ‘showing off’; making a proper sleeping spot for you, as an example to follow once you’ve memorized it.

It’s really not necessary, technically. You’re human, yes, but even humans know how to prepare a nest, somewhat.

But Taehyung watches, amused, how the both of them basically bury you beneath blankets before getting underneath them as well, ready to sleep even though they’re not tired. You definitely are- as a creature who usually needs at least eight hours of rest, you’re a lot less active than they are on average. They only need three or four, maybe a nap here and there- but it’ll be fine.

Because with the way you’re basically shielded from the outside world by Yoongi and Jungkook, Taehyung is sure you’re already part of the group.

And soon, Namjoon will realize that too.

[glader13]

Chasing Memories of You pt. 3

Miguel x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

“Lyla,” his voice slurred, “Play file zero.”

Lyla came to life, her frown deep as she saw Miguel surrounded by bottles. His eyes were hazy and drunken as he held a picture frame of you. Lyla wanted to say something but she knew that any word would spark an argument, with Miguel thinking that Lyla is trying to make him forget you. She pulled up file zero, which is multiple files of you and Miguel getting to know each other. They’re scattered, but each file shows a deeper connection between you two.

The first file begins to play and Miguel instantly recognizes your New York, seeing you fly in your black suit, the spider symbol in gold flashing in the sun. Your mentee, Gwen, was flying next to you in a red and black suit. It was here when he met you, answering the call of an anomaly in your universe. He viewed another one, instantly knowing which memory this was. You stormed into the medical area, to where Miguel was resting, insisting that he was acting reckless trying to save you, that he wasn’t thinking about his daughter, who needed him to be around. The argument was cut short when he pulled you into him, kissing you for the first time, breathing that he also needed you around.

Goosebumps then, but nothing now. He watched these files so many times, that all that they had created was a hole, numbing him. Taunting him of a reality that he’ll never have. As he drunkenly scrolled through the files, he came across one labeled as surprise. Even in his hazy mindset, he knew that he had never seen this before. He opened the file seeing more videos of you. He clicked on the first one, holding his breath as he saw you appear in front of him. He sat up, his mind gaining the clarity that it desperately searched for.

“Miggy, wait,” you mumble, pushing his mouth away, “I think I’m going to puke.”

He instantly got up, before walking you to the bathroom, asking you what you ate earlier. You told him the same as usual, but for the past few weeks, you’ve been avoiding greasy food, and eating more salads and bowl-type foods. Anything that you ate could set off your nausea, but at the same time, you wanted to eat everything.

“This has been happening a lot back to back recently,” Miguel said from the other side of the door, “It’s probably something that you’re eating.”

“Maybe the food in 2099 is made so poorly that if you aren’t used to it, it makes you sick,” you joked.

“Like your poisoned food is any better,” he said which caused you both to snicker.

You finally came out of the bathroom, telling him that you still felt the same. He kissed your forehead, asking if you wanted to sit on his balcony. You snuggled further into his hoodie as the two of you looked over Nueva York, the sounds of the city were peacefully quiet, as if a hush went through, and the neon hues washed you in warmth. You snuggled closer to Miguel, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you further into his side. He softly kissed the side of your face, before trailing down to your neck. You could feel the worry fall off him and onto you. In between the kisses, you felt him stare as if he could see what was ailing you. He’s on eggshells, the funeral was just only months ago, and he hasn’t let you out of his sight. He frets over you about anything, trying to control every aspect to mitigate any possible consequences.

“I think you should see a doctor,” he says softly, “I want you to be healthy.”

“I am,” you kissed him, “But what if it’s not anything serious?”

“Then what would it be?” His question was fragile, threatening to break under a possible reality. You stayed quiet, not wanting to voice that possibility, especially when he was still trying to heal.

“Nothing, I’m fine Miggy,” you smiled, “Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

He should’ve known then, he should have picked up on the signs: the nausea, the pickiness of your appetite, the slight plumpness of your body. If he had known, if he wasn’t blinded by grief, he could have protected you, the both of you. He would have put you on fewer missions, and made you do more lab work, hell he would have taken your watch away so you wouldn’t be hurt by an anomaly. He saw another file, his hand moving faster than his mind, as he clicked the file. Watching memories of you compares to a dark paradise, filling him with poison that he knows stops him from healing.

“Lyla,” she appeared next to you in Miguel’s bathroom, “where’s Miguel?”

“At HQ,” she said, “Want me to get him?”

Your eyes widened as you quickly said no, your hand clutching around something that Lyla couldn’t make out. She appeared closer to your hand to see, but you moved whatever it was to your chest. You let the toilet cover down, sitting on it, hunched over, quiet. You tapped your foot on the ground, your mind a mess while your mouth was unemployed. You wanted to throw the damn thing away, the reality threatening to make your lunch come up. Two months, the funeral was two months ago and you’re … You shook your head, ignoring Lyla’s words about your heart rate. You softly rocked back and forth, before getting up and pacing around his bathroom. One hand still clutching the small, but very significant change of your life, as you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t catch your reflection in the mirror, not feeling brave enough to do so. You tasted the salt from your tears, as you slid to the floor, what if he hates you, resents you for a mutual, intimate action? What if he makes you get rid of it, makes you choose? What will happen then?

“How accurate are your tests?” You shakily breathed.

“What tests?” And with her question, you reveal the pregnancy test. Her quiet was deafening, sinking you further before she answered that it was accurate, the most it’s ever been. But to ease your worry, she did a bioscan of you, confirming that you are pregnant.

“Well,” she began slowly, “Congratulations, but how did this happen?” You shot her a look, which caused her to sigh, “I know how, but when?”

“It was when,” you began to search through your memories, peeling back the layers of your brain, to the moment when the two of you were alone, “I don’t know Lyla, I don’t know what to do, the one person that I need, I can’t tell.”

You cleaned your eyes, thinking of what to say to Miguel, imagining how he would react. Would you have to leave him, be alone with your child? Your mind could only imagine Miguel’s face twisted in disappointment, or even anger. He’s going to hate me, was the only thing that you could think despite your heart trying to tell you otherwise. You felt as if you were in a headlock, not knowing if you should go or trust Miguel.

“You are going to have to,” Lyla said, “You’re going to start showing.”

“I… I know, but Lyla, you can't tell him,” you cleaned your eyes, “Please.”

“Of course,” she smiled.

You finally felt some comfort in the silence before you spoke again, “Do you think I should surprise him, with dinner, or a party?”

“Party,” Lyla smiled, “And we can get a confetti gun filled with pink or blue confetti.”

You nodded, cautiously smiling, your mind filling with the possibilities of a new future. Finally, everything felt like it’ll be okay. A new beginning for you both.

Miguel turned it off, unable to look at your face, unable to bear looking at the hesitation on your face about telling him about your pregnancy. It’s unbearable with you being gone. He took another swig of his bottle, feeling another memory from his mind appear, rolling slowly like thunder approaching a city. He was able to figure the rest out, how you were going to break the news of your pregnancy, a surprise party. But that day will be forever stained with your blood, the loss of his second family. That day, that memory, always bubbles up, it can never be defeated by the alcohol, by how many villains he beats into a pulp, by each thought of seeking another just so his bed won’t be empty. It’s always there, chained to him. He can never seem to forget.

He stood at the door to your apartment, taking a shaky breath. He’s going here to think. To think of how to tell your family that you’re dead, that he failed to protect you. He leans his head against the door, trying to collect his breathing as more tears fall from broken eyes. He didn’t bother to clean his eyes or nose, which made everything hurt all the more. He was startled by pink and blue confetti, and voices yelling “congratulations”! Miguel took a step, looking around as he felt the urge to vomit. In silence, he took note of the various baby decorations, pink and blue streamers hanging from the ceiling and on the wall. The table had small sandwiches and chips with the dessert being small pink and blue cupcakes. He saw lettering decorating the wall, condadulations, Miggy!

The smiling faces were choking him, closing in on him. He felt his breathing become shallow and shorter as if he was exhaling every time he inhaled. He leaned against the door, struggling to look at faces, especially your parents, he couldn’t tell them that he failed his promise.

“Where’s my daughter?” your mother laughed, she was holding a cake, “She was supposed to come with you.”

Miguel began to take large breaths, as he couldn’t stop his tears, the inky hands of grief pulling him down. He sunk to the floor, holding himself feeling a sick realization that this was how you were going to break the news of your pregnancy. At a party, not in his arms, dying. He painfully tore his eyes away from the ground looking at your mother, and he was drowning again, this is how you would’ve looked, aging with beautiful and graceful features. She knelt in front of him, telling him to breathe, as he was barely aware of her cleaning his eyes with a napkin. He pushes her hand away, he doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment, not after ruining her life forever, “I’m sorry,” he choked, “I … I failed her. I’m sorry,” he repeats, holding your mother.

“Miguel,” your mother’s voice is still kind, though there was a worried edge in it, “Miguel, breathe okay. Whatever argument you two got in will work itself out, it’s just her pregnancy.”

Oh, he wishes it was an argument. That means that he’ll be able to have you back in a matter of moments, he’ll argue with you about anything if that means he’ll be able to hold you again. She said to relax again, telling him to breathe, and he finally gave in to the despair, “She’s dead. She … died in my arms. There was an attack … I couldn’t save her in time.”

Your mother’s face paled, all the light, all the life, drained from her face. Her body slouched, the only sound was the plastic plate hitting the floor. Miguel couldn’t say anything, but how could he? Who would want to be comforted by their child’s murderer? Your father filled the silence, stepping past his wife and pulling Miguel up by his shoulder. Your father’s face was the opposite, lit with a fury that can only be caused by grief. Miguel forced his eyes to stay on his face, as your father demanded what happened. As he demanded to know why he let you die. Your father repeated the same questions, each time getting closer and closer to Miguel. Miguel felt as if he was set on fire, feeling nothing but hopelessness. Nothing else mattered, all was obsolete. Your father repeated the same question, but to Miguel, it sounded distant, as if someone was yelling at him behind thick walls. Even if he heard the question, he couldn't care less, your father isn’t the only one who’s grieving. The world was spinning, yet shattering around Miguel, he was lost in a haze. The last kiss that you gave him, your lifeless body, crushed him. Two people died when you permanently closed your eyes, you and the man who he thought he could be. He was right there, on the edges of his fingertips. Ready to be everything that you wanted, that you needed. But your death makes being dead alluring. You made death look like mercy, a dark paradise.

Miguel’s focus on you was shattered when your father’s fist connected with his face. The shock caused him to fall over, his hand covered in red from his nose. Your father shook off your mother as he stepped over Miguel. “You should have stayed away from her,” your father sneered, “Then she would still be here. You should have taken her place. She should be here in front of us, not you.”

“You don’t think that I agree with you,” was all Miguel said.

Miguel and Gwen stayed outside the medical room as your parents grieved over you privately. He couldn’t do anything, he wanted this day to be over, he wanted to go back in time and correct this mistake. He wanted to be the hero that you always thought he was. But you were the hero, always saving him, and he hates you for it. If you didn’t save him, then you would be here, and that’s all that would matter to Miguel. When his memory fails him, will your love abide? Looking at you, he knows that he’ll love you for a long time. If his mind fails to remember, his body and his heart will remember.

“Is everything going to be okay?” Gwen asks him, her eyes begging for a sliver of hope, “Are we going to be okay?”

Miguel blinks away some more tears before he looks at her, and he breaks. She seems so small, holding herself against the wall. Her small, huddled frame reminded him of Gabi when she was upset. He would kneel in front of her, clean her eyes, and tell her that everything was okay. He found himself doing the same thing, slipping so easily into father mode. It wasn’t hard for him, as your mentee, Miguel and you were her second set of parents. Going to school events and even covering as her guardians so her parents won’t know about her slipping grades or missed classes.

“Hey,” he said, cleaning her eyes, “We’re going to be fine. We’re going to get through this together,” he hugged her, “I promise.”

Just as he did with Gabi, to make her less upset, he would lie. He kissed the top of her head, repeating another lie of comfort as he focused on your dead body. He wanted to say I don’t know if we’ll be okay, at least he knows that he’ll never be. Without you, the darkness eats him, he’s not himself, and he won’t be ever again. He’ll love you for a long time, he’ll miss you for a long time. A wound that he’ll never heal from.

And now, he’s forced to watch videos, these memories of you that he’s slowly tainting with the desperation of guilt. He can’t let go, and he won’t let go. He knows that you would want him to, but he won’t. He’s in a daze, and he needs you, but you’re so far away. Across a sea that he can’t cross … unless. In his room, the soft beeping of his watch caught his attention, he stared at it feeling something be planted. Thinking of all that it could do, thinking that it was how he met you. He thought of HQ, of all the Spiders there, how they all traveled by that watch. Would it be possible … if there are Spiders from different Earths, then … He got up, opening a portal to HQ. He can end this, end this feeling of being alone. He’ll have a chance to go home. To be closer to love.

He realized that he was only someone with you. That only you loved him naturally, and he needs you, he has always needed you. This time, he won’t leave you alone, you’re his sun and stars, the air that he breathes. He’ll never leave you alone again. On his screen, he ran multiple tests, screening each Earth for your DNA, and bio-scans, essentially screening for you. He was in a headlock, trapped by you. He thought that he was better than this, but grief, no desperation was stronger. Desperation to protect, to bring back something that has been lost. Miguel finally felt something break, no, not break, he felt something resolve, grow stronger.

He will have you in his arms again, he can start again. He will start again.

The screen started beeping, indicating a match. He zoomed in on that Earth, moving past the people, his eyes quickly moving over the faces of strangers. He did another scan, this time to pinpoint where you were, which was a TV studio. Miguel felt his heart in his lungs, he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to see you in real time. He opened your location, and his breath was gone. He was gone, he fell to his knees, silent tears on his face, it felt like ages since he last looked upon your face. You were beauty beyond words, a force in the room. You were a goddess, dressed fittingly in white. He closed his eyes as he listened to you talk during your interview. He felt it all ending, his senseless grief, the hole in his heart was closing the more that he listened, swaying to your words as he was drunk.

He felt as if he was in church, on his knees in reverence and you were who he was praying to. When you would look into the camera, he felt your eyes, he felt your soul, and it was warm, feeling like home. He reached out, aiming to touch your face, only for his hand to go through the projection, your image briefly flickering. A bitter reminder of reality. At least he won’t be chasing memories of you anymore, closer to love, he found you again. And, in time, he’ll do more than monitor you as if you were a machine. He’ll join you, he won’t leave you alone anymore. That sea that separated the two of you disappeared.

“I’m coming home, my love,” he whispered to the projection, he whispered to you.

A/N: Writer’s block has me in a mf chokehold, I fear. Also, do people still read Miguel O’Hara fics???

[imfoive]

Crystal Bird - Chapter 7

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of drinking, war, epileptic episodes, death, somewhat proofread WC: 6.4k A/N: Finally the princess and her warrior prince has returned! (I hated the direction I took this story in and had to scrap it all. Hopefully my decision was a good one lol) Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

CHAPTER 7 ───────────────────

In the dark of the night, Nightshade Kingdom’s second prince, Felix rushed through the castle gates, his grip tight on the reins of his horse, a furrowed expression on his face that spoke of the urgent news he had.

It was with this urgency that the Solar Warrior entered the King’s palace. And upon seeing his face, both King Bahng and Captain Elliot, who happened to be in the King’s study, knew exactly what kind of news he had.

The silence in the room was deafening almost.

The burly king tapped on his desk, processing Felix’s words. He suspected that something was amiss. From the moment he received that invite from Elysium, he knew.

   “I’ve seen it myself. They’re getting into position.” Felix stated, emphasizing the weight of his earlier announcement.

Prince Felix had gone to inspect the warrior band stationed at the border, a routine task he performed as second-in-command of the Solar Warriors. But this time was different. As he peered over the wall, even in the darkness, the flickering light of the fire stakes allowed the sharp-eyed second prince to get a glimpse of a troubling sight.

The Elysium Knights on their territory had grown in numbers. Not just by a few, but nearly doubled. Something he had never witnessed in his year of making rounds for inspection. A chill had crept down his spine, masked under a composed expression he portrayed to not worry the warriors who stood guard.

But inside he was drowning in a sudden anxiousness.

There was no way. He thought as he rushed back.

Yet deep down, those unsettling feelings continued to grow, pushing him to urge his horse to run faster.

   “Do you think Prince Christopher managed to uncover something?” Captain Elliot’s voice broke the tense silence as he glanced between his son and his king.

   “We have not gotten any word or sign at all since he had made his journey.” Felix responded grimly.

The atmosphere grew heavier as King Bahng pondered his next move. It was clear, perhaps even from the beginning, Elysium planned to shatter their peace alliance. That much they had known. However, the motives behind their ruse remained a mystery. Though, King Bhang wouldn’t put it past that sneaky Elysium King to make such movements out of pure greed alone. 

The former Elysium King had also been a similar character from what King Bahng recalled, memories from his own time as Nightshade Crown Prince drew the connection.

But now, the tensions the King had once witnessed as a young prince, had returned, this time nearing an impending breaking point. 

Perhaps it would finally shatter the hostility and make the majestic Grand Forest a battleground.

On top of it all, Nightshade had to remain cautious, in order to not alert anyone that they caught wind of certain schemes. That they planned to retaliate as soon as a thread snaps. Especially with the Nightshade Crown Prince currently in enemy territory.

   “Send word to Commander Seo.” King Bahng finally declared, then turned to Felix. 

   “Dispatch the remaining Midnight Warriors from The Crown Prince’s brigade to the border. Instruct them to stay vigilant. Their leader will send them a signal.”

   “Yes, Your Majesty.” Felix replied, bowing before exiting swiftly.

The door creaked as it closed, leaving the older men in the silent study. The burning firewood crackled loudly in the tense atmosphere. Elliot looked at his brother, the somber expression on his face made it clear that he wasn’t just worried about The Nightshade Kingdom, or war breaking out. But he was worried for his son. The father suddenly regretted willingly sending the prince to that godforsaken serpent land.

   “Prince Christopher is resilient. Do you recall what Commander Seo had said before? The next Nightshade ruler is a vicious warrior. Do not worry my King, he will be able to defend himself.” Elliot assured, sensing the king’s unspoken fears.

   “You know I cannot truly be at ease until he is back on Nightshade soil.” King Bahng muttered, sighing as he leaned back in his seat.

And Captain Elliot remained silent, knowing exactly what this father was feeling.

But they were also aware of exactly what Prince Christopher was capable of, from everything they’ve heard from the tough Nightshade Commander, who was perhaps the most ruthless fighter the King had known. 

Prince Christopher was a vicious warrior.

A true warrior.

A competent future king, that had a sharp intuition, even sharper battle skills. He thought before making hasty decisions, watching, observing. Sure, he had a mischievous side, a playful persona that was perhaps his true nature. Or perhaps a mask he donned to throw off those wary of him.

Commander Seo had said it once. 

   “The Prince seems to hold grudges.”

That statement rang true, as certain as the white snow blanketing the North. 

A grudge against his father, who questioned his readiness to think like a Crown Prince. Who sent him off to build character. 

A grudge against his teacher, who doubted his skills to wield a sword, shoot an arrow. Skills to survive on the battleground.

A grudge against himself, for being weak.

In just a year after he arrived in the White Mountains, Prince Christopher had transformed, driven by these petty grievances. 

Chris was a fierce warrior, one that had quickly gained a reputation amongst the warrior trainees, catching the eyes of the local residents with his intense presence even when he simply just stood and watched.

And it was with these calculated observations, that the fierce and keen eyed prince was able to select an even fiercer captain for his Midnight Band.

Minho was the most stealthy amongst the warriors that trained to be a part of the Midnight brigade. Minho easily caught the Nightshade Prince’s eye, his skills to spot the smallest of details amongst the shadows of the night, were things Christopher knew he wanted in his shadow leader.

And with these same skills, the Midnight leader had caught the sight of the Sylvancrest Prince during the late hours, when everyone returned from the royal dinner, tired, dazed, and perhaps a little drunk. When no one would have suspected anything to happen in the wake of the night. The foreign prince was escorted to meet the Elysium King in what seemed a suspicious act, prompting the Midnight Warrior to dash through the shadows with the news.

Of course upon his entrance, he found the Prince’s room to be empty. 

Minho had sensed something from the moment Prince Christopher jumped out of the carriage to wander the mysterious Grand Forest. He realized that his prince had deeper ties to Elysium than he let on.

The jewel that hung around Christopher’s neck hinted at those ties, leading Minho to make easy conclusions.

The shadow warrior felt torn between duty and loyalty.

Part of him wondered if he should involve himself in whatever game of hide-and-seek his prince, Han and the second princess, seemed to play. Meeting coincidentally in secluded areas. In odd hours of the night.

But another part reminded him that his primary duty was to follow Prince Christopher’s orders, uncovering any threats Elysium posed to Nightshade. He needed to be his prince’s eyes, his shadow. Nothing else.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the memories of those nights when Christopher had tended to his aching muscles, nursing cuts and scrapes from their endless hours on the training grounds. The North was cold, but that didn’t stop the sweating prince from pushing himself. Minho recalled the way Christopher clutched the blue bird, the jewel that always seemed to glimmer.

The same crystal bird that the Midnight Captain now connected to Princess Y/N. 

Minho had always been skilled at catching the smallest of details, though his prince didn’t do a great job at masking his lingering gazes.

However, did he truly wish to see his master trail behind the enemy princess?

──────────────────────── The fourth prince of Sylvancrest has never been greed driven. 

Perhaps it was this greed-lessness that attracted the Elysium King’s attention. Hyunjin wasn’t seen as a threat it seemed. For the king to lay out such schemes, bare for this foreign prince to see, to recruit, was a conclusion one could easily come to after some thought.

Hyunjin was never going to be a threat. 

He was a polite man. 

But he wasn’t stupid.

He knew exactly why the Elysium King had come to him, and not the Nightshade Crown Prince whose very presence was an enigma in itself. Rivalries aside, it was clear the future ruler of the Nightshade realm was not one who would easily sway. He was sharp, he was competent and would make a proper king.

While Hyunjin, a prince not in line for the throne, hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the harsh lessons his older brother endured.

For the Elysium King, greedy by nature, he was a perfect recruit. Hyunjin could easily become a ruler with foreign aid from a bigger, stronger nation.

A proper Puppet-king.

One that could easily be controlled however way his strings were pulled. Pressed under the thumb of Elysium, while he would proudly bask in the seat of the Sylvancrest King.

Such ridiculousness.

Still, he recalled the conversation he had with the king of this land the night prior. The greedy ruler’s words swirling through his mind.

He didn’t realize he’d be in such a predicament, where he was actually thinking about the utter nonsense of betraying his nation, his family, his brother. For some power that seemed like a headache in itself. 

Clearly, the King doesn’t realize that not all royals are out to get each other. In fact, Hyunjin and his older brothers live in harmony. Perhaps that is why the fourth prince is so calm and polite. He’s never had to be wary of his own siblings. A notion that was clearly uncommon here amongst the Elysium royals. 

Once again. Hyunjin wasn’t stupid.

There were whispers of an incident that had occurred during a show of archery skills. One that resulted in an accident involving the second princess. Whispers that had reached Emerald Hall. Had reached Hyunjin’s ears. 

It wasn’t his place, but he caught glimpses of Princess Y/N knit her brows, holding back discomfort as she slowly adjusted the weight on her left arm during yesterday’s dinner. 

It wasn’t his place, but he saw her stagger, hand pressed against the wall for support as she hissed silently in pain, assuming she had been alone.

Prince Hyunjin had planned on escorting her back to her quarters, maybe even help her soothe whatever was painfully hurting her, while he was at it. 

Ever since she had welcomed Hyunjin into the palace, the second princess has been nothing but polite to him. Sharing smiles and stories, respectful of his slightly lower status. Maybe she understood him, being a princess from the King’s mistress. Though even that shouldn’t have mattered anyway.

She had been a friend. One he truly wished only the best for.

So he had been lost in his thoughts. The words of the Elysium King’s once again ringing in his mind.

Words spoken by Princess Y/N’s father.

   “If you do end up taking my advice and usurping the Sylvnacrest throne, perhaps we can offer you an Elysium Princess to take the seat of your consort. Becoming allies that support one another through marriage... Of course, that’s if you have the desire to become a true ruler.” 

He recalled those words, serpent-like. Tempting.

Words that sent a shiver down his spine.

But in the back of his mind, Hyunjin suddenly remembered Prince’s Christoper’s…warning. 

The Warrior Crown Prince had been right in his observations of the sly king’s greed. Surely it wouldn’t take him long to figure out the true reasons behind such friendly hospitality for his nation, which the Elysium society had no fondness for. 

Hyunjin’s gaze faltered, trailing after the figure moving gracefully down the aisle of books.

The sight of Princess Y/N, her fingers pulling out titles that caught her eyes, caused him to narrow his brows.

Amidst the heap of books about trade and the Sylvancrest seaports the second princess could find, he couldn’t help but suddenly ponder.

He could tell the second princess was ambitious. 

She was curious, seeking out answers to whatever questions lingered on her mind. In the span of his entire stay, Hyunjin had plenty of discussions with her, ones that didn’t make him feel tense or rigid. The comfortable kind of conversations where he could easily voice out thoughts without thinking twice, three times. 

Princess Y/N was a commendable Princess. One who would truly make a great Queen.

   “Are you excited for Prince Ian’s wedding?” Hyunjin asked, softening his lips into a gentle smile as he watched her gaze pull away from the book in her grasp.

Y/N sat up in her seat, her expression thoughtful. She didn’t have any particular feelings in regards to Prince Ian, let alone his wedding, which was finally about to happen. An event that would mark the end of all the whirlwind of activity and responsibilities she had been caught up in

After the wedding, she could return to her quieter days of lessons and tea with Sienna. Maybe even back to being the forgotten princess no one really sought.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to Hyunjin, who awaited her response with that gentle expression that he had whenever he spoke to her.

The founding day festivities following Ian’s wedding ceremony would conclude Elysium’s celebrations. 

The end. 

This meant Hyunjin will return to Sylvancrest soon after.

It also meant Prince Christopher would go back to Nightshade. 

Once again, she wouldn’t have the chance to say goodbye to her childhood friend.

This time, it was going to be all her fault.

Y/N thought back to the night prior. Finger’s instinctively grazing at the dress’ fabric on her shoulder which no longer pained. Not as much as the excruciating feeling she was bearing the previous evening. 

This morning, Anna had watched her closely, eyeing the green salve Y/N had instructed her to apply to the wound. The swelling had reduced and the flesh less red, just as she’d been told it would. But as Anna treated her, all Y/N could think of was Chan.

Chan and his gentle touch, the way his eyes had focused on her as his fingers brushed against her skin. 

Chan and his smile. The glint in his gaze as he broke into a dimpled laughter.

Hyunjin’s soft laugh pulled her back to the present, to their quiet corner of the royal library.

   “I didn’t realize my question required such critical thinking.” He chuckled.

Y/N felt flustered, mentally chiding herself for letting her mind wander, thinking about another, but she quickly regained her composure.

   “I wouldn’t say excited perse. There’s lots to do in preparations for the wedding and all the celebrations that come with it.” She voiced almost matter-of-factly.

Hyunjin leaned forward, resting his face in the cup of his propped-up hands. 

   “Yet here you are, discussing Sylvancrest’s fishing techniques with me.” He let out a small laugh, enjoying her once more flustered reaction.

She set the book down, clearing her throat.

   “I found some time—besided, it is one of my duties to ensure our honored guests are entertained.” She attempted to justify, her words only making Hyunjin grin wider.

   “Well, I am feeling quite entertained right now.” His eyes sparkled with an emotion Y/N couldn’t quite place.

   “Y-you have that hunting excursion with Prince Ian and the other young lords don’t you?” Y/N stammered under Hyunjin’s soft but intense gaze.

The Sylvancrest prince sighed, dropping his head momentarily, a twinge frustrated.

   “I doubt that will truly keep me entertained. I’ve never been keen on hunting for sport.” He leaned back, a hint of disappointment in his expression.

   “Perhaps I’ll just follow Prince Christopher’s lead. He looks like he’s quite skilled with the bow.”

His gaze wandered to her shoulder, the one that had apparently been wounded with an arrow. Yet, she sat here perfectly fine, no discomfort in her expression. No stagger in her walk. 

   “I’m sure you will do just fine.” Y/N replied casually, glancing back at the book she had set aside.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

   “Do I look like someone who has good archery skills?” He suddenly asked, watching her gaze falter once more from the book.

Her eyes trailed over him, a sudden intensity in her gaze as she observed him

   “I think you’re more skilled with a sword. But who knows if that’s true, besides yourself and your guard.” She glanced toward the library doors, behind which Seungmin stood waiting.

An answer that made Hyunjin break into another chuckle.

While they enjoyed their carefree conversation in the library, the atmosphere in Ruby Hall was anything but relaxed.

Well, it was seemingly relaxed, but turmoil churned within Prince Christopher.

The Nightshade Prince had not gotten any sleep.

Clear indications from the slight bags under his eyes, a haze in his gaze.

He sat there, supposedly enjoying afternoon tea, yet he was trapped in his thoughts. A dazed expression that the maids at his service couldn’t quite decipher, on edge from the darkness in his eyes. A sight that made Han stare with a new concern.

   “Shall we extend an invitation to Princess Sienna to join you for lunch?” Han suggested, making Chris look up, breaking free from his clouded thoughts.

Another burden added to whatever was pricking at him. The mention of his childhood friend made his heart clench, feeling a sense of guilt washing over him. Even if he truly hadn’t done anything wrong. 

   “No, perhaps we should cut back on meeting her too frequently.” He refused, glancing towards the Ruby Hall attendants that surrounded them.

It was an answer that made Han blink back, a little surprised as he wondered since when his prince cared so much about what these foreign attendants thought.

Although it wasn’t entirely the reason behind his refusal, it was a true reflection. Chris had been sharing afternoon tea, lunch, much too often with Sienna. Granted, it’s only been three or so days of such activity, but that was still a lot according to etiquette. While Sienna seemed oblivious to the wary looks and glances of the people in the entourage that trailed behind her, the Warrior Prince knew that amongst them were a few that made frequent visits to their Queen’s court, according to Minho. Reporting, keeping an eye on him.

He remembered the news he got from the Midnight Captain this morning. 

The news about Prince Hyunjin being escorted into the King’s palace late in the night, something he would have found out earlier if he wasn’t busy frolicking around these foreign grounds in search of a hurt bunny.

He suddenly shuddered at the thought of Princess Y/N.

The thought of his dream.

The press of his lips against hers, an imaginary moment that had ignited his entire being.

Chris picked up his tea, the still-cooling liquid burning his throat as he gulped it down. Han stared at him, stunned by the surprising action, while Chris tried to rid his mind of such nonsensical thoughts.

   “W-we should invite Prince Hyunjin, maybe for a friendly chat?” Chris cleared his throat, glancing up at the standing warrior guard, who recovered from his stunnedness.

   “Ah, I heard he’s visiting the royal library with Princess Y/N... I wonder if she’s feeling better now.” Han’s words are casual, trailing off as he speaks more to himself than to his prince.

His prince, who stiffened in his seat at both the mention of her name, and the slight jealousy that suddenly crept into his heart, jaw tightening, fingers gripping around the ceramic tea cup.

A reaction that did not escape the personal guard. Confirming certain suspicions that arose in his mind the night prior.

Y/N did not expect the cold shoulder.

Sure, before yesterday, no, prior to last night even, the Warrior Prince had only shot her glares, his words straight-forward. Not that her stance against him wasn’t any less hostile. 

But she had thought he would be different today. 

Perhaps softening a little when he spoke to her, maybe even flash her that smile she caught a glimpse of when he teased her. 

But there was none of that. 

As if he meant nothing by sneaking into her quarters, his skin grazing against her skin with the gentlest of touches she’d never felt until him. 

As if he truly went out of his way because he did nothing but pity her. Her injury, her embarrassment.

Tending to a forgotten princess because no one else would.

Prince Christopher gave her a respectful bow, a simple greeting to acknowledge her presence, before turning to Hyunjin, ignoring the confused tinge in her gaze.

Y/N inhaled deeply. A silent act as she stood straight.

   “I have a prior engagement to attend. Please enjoy yourselves—and, good luck on your hunting excursion Princes.” Princess Y/N composed herself, dipping down for a curt farewell, her guard trailing behind her.

Hyunjin’s grin remained, gentle on his face, while the Warrior Prince stood brusque. Yet, Chris’ head immediatey turned on its own, eyes drawn to the princess’ retreating figure, as if pulled by the magnet that was her.

He knew she was stunned by his words. Or, his lack of words. The confusion evident in her gaze. But of course he didn’t do anything to correct it.

Because how on earth could he tell her that he was feeling heat on his cheeks? How could he explain that the sour taste in his mouth intensified as he joined Prince Hyunjin and Y/N after their trip to the library, seeing them smiling and standing so close, made him…angry?

   “Shall we head inside for a quick chess game before we join Prince Ian?” Hyunjin asked, his smile unwavering, yet eyes gleamed with a new look the Warrior Prince hadn’t seen even after the banquet. Prior to meeting the Elysium King.

Prior to spending all morning with Princess Y/N.

The Second Princess found herself in the presence of Sienna. The two sisters had ventured out into the warm weather for a brisk stroll. Ones that consisted of hushed gossip and reflections of their morning encounters. 

Simply, sisters enjoying each other’s company. Yet today, an unspoken tension lingered in the air. Both were lost in their own thoughts, the vibrant colors of the garden around them got no attention.

The younger princess sighed, her mind occupied with the chilling gaze of the Nightshade Prince. His cold stares felt like daggers compared to the gentle gaze in the dimness of her bedchamber.

Meanwhile, The First Princess walked beside her, her expression thoughtful as she wondered about something else.

Or maybe wondered about the same prince and his lingering gazes.

   “Do you think Prince Christopher has taken a particular interest in me?” 

Sienna’s question was unexpected, startling the day-younger sister, so much that she almost stumbled in her steps. 

   “Wh-what makes you say that?” Y/N blinked, struggling to grasp the weight of her sister’s words.

Sienna glanced around to ensure their guards were a good distance away before stepping closer to Y/N. She looked at her younger sister with a mix of wonder and curiosity.

   “The prince isn’t as cold and brusque with me as he is with everyone else.” She began, recalling the tiny things she had noticed.

   “He always sends for me when he wants to have a good conversation. But as soon as someone else, like Lady Ayssa or Prince Ian, joins us, he becomes all rigid and distant. His tone blunt and cold. As if he’s completely different around only me. Surely you have caught sight of it as well. You’ve always noticed such small details.” The first princess recalled, absentmindedly nodding her head.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her surprise evident. She listened as Sienna continued, oblivious to the tight knot forming in her stomach.

   “He smiles at me, engages with me more freely—Like those romantic leads in your fairytales.” Sienna compared, giggling and nudging her sister, but the light-hearted moment faded when she saw the downturn of Y/N’s expression.

   “Oh, right, I mean love-stories. Not fairytales.” Sienna said, a slight giggle in her words, misunderstanding. 

Y/N’s fists tightened, her knuckles white as she gripped her dress. Her sister, oblivious to what was truly bothering her.

   “Are you also interested in him...?” The Second Princess managed to squeak out, mind repeating please-say-no over and over again.

Sienna paused, her eyes narrowing in thought. She crossed her arms over her chest and considered the question. 

   “Prince Christopher is a good-looking fellow. And he might seem like the type who only dotes on his partner, perhaps the type to only search for her amidst a crowd.” She turned to face the second princess.

   “But… where’s the thrill in that?” Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint Y/N had never seen before, making the younger sister blink back, slightly stunned.

   “I’d rather have someone who lets me do the chasing.” She grinned.

Her face lit up as she continued, her voice higher, a sudden pep in her step.

    “An aloof guy, handsome but not flaunting it. Maybe he pretends he doesn’t reciprocate feelings of love, but secretly brings me things he thinks I’d like. Leaving me gifts by the window-sill, notes in passing. Our hands brushing together amidst the clandestine acts, the meetings.” Her eyes twinkled.

   “—Oh! Perhaps he protects me from behind, threatening anyone who even looks at me wrong.” She hummed with her laugh.

Her descriptions were straight out of those love stories she teased Y/N about. Giggling as she recalled the similarities.

Then, she stopped mid-stride, the playful smile fading into a sad, contemplative expression almost instantly. As if she had come to a realization. 

Back to harsh reality.

   “But, that would be quite impossible…” She said softly. 

   “I’m the First Princess of this nation, after all.”

Y/N inhaled, immediately understanding those exact words. For the first time, she saw a side of The First Princess role she always thought came with nothing but privileges.

   “I must marry into another powerful family, perhaps even from another kingdom to strengthen alliances. That is one of the greatest duties for us princesses.”

Sienna’s words were nothing but the truth. Something Y/N had been aware of but never imagined to hear from the first princess. Suddenly she looked so mature, like a true older sister.

──────────────────────── 

The Warrior Prince was not the greatest fan of board games, let alone have the patience to sit through a game of chess. He was used to the hustle and bustle of the training grounds. The whistle of an arrow cutting through the biting winds, the sound of swords clanking. 

Yet he was determined. Jaw clenched as he stared at the black and white pieces laid between himself and Prince Hyunjin on the board.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so competitive suddenly. Maybe he was eager to uncover whatever the pretty prince and the sly Elysium king had discussed the night prior. Or maybe, there was something else that bothered him. 

Clawing at the back of his mind, a lingering bitterness. A twinge of envy, a tinge of jealousy.

   “To be honest, I’ve never truly liked chess.” Hyunjin’s voice broke Chris’ daze. 

A confession that made Han blink, unable to hide the surprise on his face from those words, glancing across to look at Seungmin who stood straight in his spot behind his seated master.

It seemed Han’s thoughts were shared by his prince, Chris sat back in his seat, raising a brow. 

If he had truly not been a big chess player, why had he suggested it?

There seemed to be more to his words than he let on, the mysterious glimmer in his eyes unmistakably visible to the warrior prince.

   “The black kingdom against the white. A cruel start.” Hyunjin continued, fingers gripping at his white piece from his side.

A pawn. One that he studied for a brief moment before sliding it over the glossy board. Making his first move.

   “Chess is nothing but a harmless game, Prince Hyunjin. One that does not begin until someone makes the first move.” Chris countered, following with his own movement of a pawn on the board.

   “I’ve always thought of it as something else. A war perhaps?” His eyes glanced momentarily towards the attendants by the tea trolley, preparing refreshments for the foreign princes, before he laughed, masking the intensity of his words.

Chris’ brows narrowed at Hyunjin’s words. At the notion of war. At what he had alluded. His gaze followed the maids, busy with their own work, yet he was sure their ears were perked.

Hyunjin made his next move. The Nightshade Prince followed, mirroring his movement.

There was a sudden tension in the air, the foreign princes engulfed into a silent game, heavily aware of the wary gazes that surrounded them. Chris fell into a deep thought, distracted as he tried to dissect whatever Hyunjin was implying. Fingers deftly moved pieces. The Knight, the Pawns.

The Queen.

His pieces, getting captured one after another.

The Sylvancrest Prince flicked his eyes up every now and then. At every wrong move Prince Christopher made.

Finally he hummed, falling into a deep thought of his own, as he stared at the few pieces left on the board. 

This time, Hyunjin picked up a white knight piece, moving it and settling it in its new place on the board, only for it to get captured in Chris’ next turn. He inhaled sharply, shaking his head at his own mistake.

   “A game of chess doesn’t begin until someone attacks first. But I believe the game had already begun once you agreed to play.” The Sylvancrest Prince’s words had finally broken a silence that settled between them.

He picked up his pawn, the only pawn left on the board surprisingly. 

   “You must not be very skilled at chess, seeing as you’ve left such a blatant opening for this guy.” Hyunjin grinned, eyeing the end of the board he could easily place his pawn on and win this game.

Checkmate with pawn promotion. A rare victory for such a small ranked piece.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head at this game, one he hadn’t truly paid much attention to.

   “Go ahead. What do you wish to turn this piece into? My chess knowledge may be lacking, but I do know that a pawn can’t be promoted to King, according to the rules.”

There was a flicker of emotion in Hyunjin’s eyes again. The same one Chris had seen before they started playing.

   “Rules…” Hyunjin mumbled, moreso to himself.

His eyes glanced at Han, who stood rigid behind, then darted down to settle on the sharp-eyed warrior prince. 

   “What if this pawn wished to be king…” He glanced back at the leftover black and white pieces littered throughout the board. 

At the white King piece still on his side. He hovered the pawn piece over it, as if teasing to knock over his own King.

   “Perhaps the pawn could usurp the throne and become a king if he truly wanted. If he was offered something that enticing.” The Sylvancrest Prince picked up the black queen piece that he had captured. 

Capturing this piece was the beginning of his opponent’s fall.

   “Motivated to do so by a beautiful, capable queen.” 

The Nightshade prince relaxed his expression, gaze darting towards the Sylvancrest knight behind Hyunjin, his black queen piece in Hyunjin’s grasp, until he settled back on the pretty prince. 

Prince Christopher understood. 

What he was saying. What he tried to say through this vague chess talk.

Hyunjin was not talking about this game. It was evident, from his comparisons to the expression on his face.

Far from polite, far from naive.

The Nightshade Crown Prince’s expression hardened, sitting back in his seat once again.

   “Then this pawn must decide if he truly wishes to become king. My king still remains on the board.” There was a steely edge to his tone. 

A bit cold, a bit warning.

Hyunjin chuckled once more, easing the tension between them.

   “It doesn’t matter since at the end of the day it is still a just a pawn.” He muttered, making his final move.

   “Checkmate.” He grinned.

This pawn had made a victory. 

The chess game had come to an end. But it seemed that the real one had just begun.

The foreign princes had to prepare for their hunting activity with Ian and other noble lords later that afternoon. The Sylvancrest Prince had returned to his quarters with his usual, polite expression. The smile that lingered whenever he conversered with Crown Prince Christopher had returned, as if their alluding talk about a conflict, hadn’t happened.

As if they simply just played a game of chess.

But the Warrior Prince could not keep his expression composed, falling into deep thought as he paced the rose garden on his return back to Ruby Hall, Han trailing behind him.

With Prince Ian’s wedding celebrations coming up, Chris realized he was dealing with a ticking time bomb. Something grand was going to happen, either before or after Ian’s wedding. Perhaps even on the nation’s Founding Day anniversary, which had been pushed back to the day after Ian’s wedding. The Crown Prince and his new Princess Consort were to formally showcase their union through a parade the following day after the ceremony.

Chris was stuck. 

He had uncovered tidbits of a scheme pretty quickly. Yet, he still couldn’t quite understand why the Elysium Kingdom had suddenly decided to violate the neutrality their nations kept intact for centuries.

Was it the slow rise and flourish of the Eastern Sea Nation of Sylvancrest? Their steady influence that spread throughout the past decade? Was it that Elysium was confident in making them an ally? 

Chris had been in the White Mountains during that time, learning of the foreign nations and their achievements through books and lessons in between his training sessions. Perhaps if he still remained besides his father he would have more knowledge, maybe allowed to get a closer look. But he couldn’t regret any of that now, there was not much time.

Chris continued pacing, almost heading towards the end of his first round of the garden, his loyal guard silently following behind. Allowing him to wrack his brain.

What has changed in the past few years that would push the Elysium Kingdom to march towards their own demise.

Perhaps Elysium underestimated Nightshade, believing they might have a a chance at winning a war through petty tactics. Maybe they could, if they had a hidden weapon they could. That was something Nightshade would just have to find out on the battle ground unfortunately.

But if it was a war, the Warrior Crown Prince was confident. In his nation, in his King.

In himself, the warriors and healers of his realm.

They were known for their defense tactics. Their healing methods and ideologies.

Christopher’s brows narrowed, fixating on the pebbles underneath his feet. Suddenly halting in his steps, which made Han, who trailed behind, stare at him in sudden confusion.

A new thought surfaced in Chris’ mind, and suddenly his brows relaxed, as if he had connected more imaginary pieces of a puzzle he had been trying to fit together since his arrival.

Their healing methods and ideologies.

His eyes darted toward Han, who still awaited for his prince to voice out his thoughts.

The Nightshade realm was lush with forests. It was barren, it was mountainous, it was plainlands.

A vast land that had so many terrains within. A vast land that produced sought after resources. But most sought after, their medicinal herbs and knowledge of how to use them. 

Now that Chris thought about it, some three or four decades ago, long before his birth, the discovery of a rare medicinal plant had stirred quite a buzz. This herb was said to have remarkable benefits for those suffering from the epilepsy sickness, a discovery that created a sudden palpable tension between Elysium and Nightshade.

The former Elysium King was desperate to get his hands on the herb, but was too proud to ask Nightshade for such favors, his hatred for the rival nation evident in how closed off he kept Elysium from the Nightshade Kingdom.

But Chris had only read about such things in books, heard about it through tales of his grandfather’s achievements. The previous Elysium king had passed away before hostilities escalated, possibly due to his epileptic episodes, stubbornly. With his death, the tensions between the nations had somewhat faded.

Was it that the current Elysium King was after the same herb?    

Surely that couldn’t be a reason. 

Such a small thing couldn’t be the reason why a ruler of such a grand nation would stir conflict with an enemy he knew nothing of other than surface level rumors. Besides, it wasn’t the first time the Nightshade healers had made life-changing medical advancements. Every few years there’s a new discovery that allows Nightshade to grow their influences throughout the lands through medicine. 

But maybe it was this rare influence that Elysium coveted. 

It was a thought, a conclusion for the Elysium King’s sudden madness. Anything could be a clue at this point. 

They were all stubborn it seemed. The former king, the current king.

Princess Y/N.

He inhaled, gaze flickering back down to the ground.

   “What have you thought of?” Han’s voice broke the silence, the younger man’s gaze narrowed.

   “Do you believe they’ll do something funny at the hunt?” Chris mused, contemplating the possibility.

Though it was unlikely, he wouldn’t put it past the Elysium royals.

But the mere thought made Han shudder. An attack on his crown prince disguised as a friendly hunting match.

An ambush.

   “Perhaps we avoid it?” Han’s tone was serious.

Instead Chris lets out a soft chuckle, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. 

   “Or maybe they’ll poison my tea.” He started walking once again, Han hurrying to catch up.

   “Not funny.” The warrior guard muttered, frown etched on his face.

   “I doubt they’ll attempt anything at the hunt, such obvious of an act is cowardly. And we’ve seen how proud Ian had been, haven’t we?” Chris shook his head, lingering smile from his chuckle.

   “Prince Ian has been bragging about his amazing archery skills. Maybe I can show him how a true warrior shoots an arrow. Without nicking anyone.” Chris’ voice dropped low, and a determined expression settled on his face, causing Han to stand rigid.

He wanted revenge it seemed.

But for what exactly? 

For something that did not involve him. For the excrutiation pain from Ian’s arrow that he did not feel.

Han’s gaze fixed on his prince’s back as Chris quickened his pace, a decision clearly made. He was in a rush to return to his quarters and prepare for the hunting game.

The Nightshade Crown Prince had always been one to hold petty grudges.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @stayceebs97, @palindrome969, @tsunderelino, @solandiszale, @fixation-dump, @ellelabelle, @gaslasyttune, @qwonyoung23, @minh0scat, @candyquokka, @sellomaybe, @kat-unzel, @gujter

[lavendernlilac]

thinking too hard about bodyguard au again so we ramble :3 continuation of this post because these thoughts just won't stop coming

- even though hotguy is griande’s personal bodyguard, the head guy of security for Anything related to griande is skizz. he’s like grian’s overprotective weird uncle. hurt her and you’ll have one hell of an angry skizz coming for you

- when hotguy was first hired, skizz 100% gave him the “I don’t care if you’re some hotshot hero, if you try anything weird with her I’ll end you” talk (because they’ve probably one or two guys they hired for security who got… weird with grian)

- not that skizz worries for long though, hotguy proves that griande’s safety is the only thing that matters to him. and the two of them have been best buds since

- in his civilian life, scar is a model and pretty well known. I think it’d be funny (and really sweet) if grian had a lil crush on him. but they don’t know each other personally. just… admiration from afar

- that being said, scar has a massive crush on griande. he has so much respect for her. he’s got nearly every album she’s released and went to a concert of hers three years ago. so when he was approached as hotguy to be her bodyguard? there was no way he’d say no

- skizz was the one who suggested it btw

- have I mentioned that mumbo is a massive hotguy fanboy? and even after working with hotguy for like a year and a half, he still gets starry eyed and nervous? (also he and iskall are dating)

- grian will sometimes bring mumbo merch and he’s like “I can’t believe you got this!” meanwhile she’s secretly dating the guy who makes the merch

- scar uses hotguy as an outlet to be himself. he’s free to be as silly or dorky as he wants—it’s his escape from the daily life of scar goodtimes, a chance to be more of himself than he ever could

- yet interestingly, hotguy was never meant to exist. see, it started with a car accident. a pretty bad one—to the point scar was at death’s door. he was very close to dying when at the last second, a certain doc monster stepped in to save him. doc genuinely just wanted to save scar’s life. he never meant to create a superhero in his desperate attempt to fulfill his doctor’s oath. but something happened, some kind of mix up. scar was healed within a matter of days, as if the accident had never occurred. and scar was… changed. irreversibly

- (not even doc could figure out what happened, when scar stormed into his office. he couldn’t reverse it, either. he offered to run some tests, to help him figure out what happened. but scar vehemently denied any more tests. no more tests. he can’t go through that again, please don’t make him do it again he can’t he can’t he can’t he—)

- (…all doc could do was offer to help scar control his new abilities)

- so hotguy was accidentally born! and it was a freedom scar never knew he needed. sure, both the powers and the impact on his modeling career are permanent marks of his near death but. in a strange way, he’s thankful for it. for the opportunity it gives him

- (even if he can’t go to hospitals any more. lab coats shorten his breath. he panics at the sight of a needle.)

- (and sure, maybe he ends up put on a whole separate pedestal, objectified in a new way, and no one sees him for who he is but. it’s a freedom.)

- and for grian… ariana griande is a way to be the person she wants herself to be. griande is confident and sassy, not a single hint of doubt to be seen. while grian moon is snarky, and rough around the edges, full of self doubt. griande is a mask for grian to pretend to be who she wishes she was. griande is a form of escape she needs. but she’s also a shield

- before grian first began in the music industry, she was doing open mic nights at different establishments. until one night, she’s approached by a producer who sees a lot of promise in her, and would love to sign her on. cue grian calling mumbo and excitedly telling him she’s found her big break. only, to mumbo, it sounds… suspicious. he tells her to be careful, but grian swears it’ll be fine and he’s just overly cautious

- things with her new producer are great! she’s introduced to a bunch of people, given a tour of her new workplace and she’s eager to get started. and well, she’s a bit disappointed that she’s only allowed to record songs that other people have written, but she’s sure that’s just because she’s new! so grian does as told, encouraged and praised by her producer

- slowly that praise is replaced more and more by little nitpicks but it’s fine. she’s inexperienced. her producer is just trying to help her. (“your tone is way off.” “you’re not holding your air long enough.” “you’re in the wrong key.” “you can hear the other harmonies, can’t you? match them.” “you’re straining.” “you sound bad. re-record it.” “your clothes are hideous.” “some make up would do you good.” “your hair is too long, cut it.” “I don’t remember your voice being so bad, grian.” “you’re never going to make it big.” “signing you on was a mistake.”)

- ( she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. )

- she’s caught writing a song of her own. it’s actually pretty good, her producer is impressed. he’ll think about recording it

- grian isn’t allowed to sing it. she’s not even credited for it.

- this goes on for months. she’s overworked, verbally abused, and beaten down. she’s hardly seen mumbo or any of their friends. it’s not until mumbo gets fed up and goes to see her himself for answers that grian finally cracks. she tells mumbo everything, that he was right. she has no chance at her dreams now, she’s not good enough for any of it. and well, mumbo wouldn’t be a very good friend if he let grian continue to believe that

- he gets iskall’s help in getting grian free of that company, and offers to help her get back on her feet, start her own brand. and thus, mumbo and iskall become her mangers

- grian creates griande to protect herself. griande is what the industry wants, who people expect her to be (as for grian… she doesn’t know who grian is anymore). she grows more comfortable as griande and she gains popularity quite quickly. she loves it

- when it comes time for scar to meet grian and not griande… she doesn’t know who to be. she doesn’t know what scar expects from her, or who he wants her to be for him (she just wants to be good enough for him). it makes her anxious. uncertain. but all scar wants is for grian to be herself. to be comfortable and happy and safe

[venerawrites]

Can I request an Imagine where a fem character is captured by the enemy and she’s under a genjutsu where she’s being tortured by Shikamaru (who she loves) but is pulled out of it just in time by Shika who actually gets there in time with a team? Comfort fluff, reassuring, and he admits he loves her?

author's note: I have been writing this literally for ages, but now that all my assignments are officially done, I finally had a chance to catch up! Thank you so much for your patience and this beautiful idea! I absolutely loved writing this one! I hope you like it! <3

warnings: mentions of torture; swearing

There is something comforting in darkness. Once it welcomes you in its embrace, all your fears, worries, and thoughts just... disappear. Your body and your mind relax and for once, it is all quiet.

And silence is beautiful.

Two strong hands wrapped around your neck, pulling you harshly out of the water and bringing all your senses back to reality. The sudden rush of air filling your lungs made you choke and you struggled to take another breath. The comforting silence, in which you were blissfully floating just a second ago, was interrupted by the rapid beating of your heart and the muffled sound of someone's voice next to you.

"-absolutely pathetic", your brain registered only the last words of what the person said. You coughed once again and another hefty amount of dirty water made its way out of your body, letting you breathe more freely. Your chest felt heavy and all your muscles screamed in pain, making this moment of awareness feel more like a punishment than a relief.

With a few slow blinks, the darkness started to lift and your surroundings started to become clearer. At first, all you could see was the sky - so grey and sad, a sure sign it was about to rain soon. Then your focus shifted to the trees and the strange way their leaves stood still, despite the wind around you. Finally, your eyes shifted to the silhouette sitting next to you. Blinking a few more times, their face started to become more focused and you let out a breath of relief, once you realised it was your best friend who saved you from what seemed like sure death.

"Shika...", you said weakly, not having the energy to even pronounce his full name. Instinctively reaching your hand toward him, you tried to get a hold of his hand, his warmth being the only thing your body craved right now. The said man let out a scoff, moving out of the way just when you were about to reach him. When you hand hit nothing but air, you slowly opened your eyes, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Shika?", you repeated, lifting your head just a bit, so you could see the man better. Sitting on a small stone next to you, he stared at you with a bored expression, a half-burn cigarette hanging from his lips. There was something in weird in his eyes, something which you have seen only a handful of times in all the years you have known him.

Was it anger? Annoyance? Hate?

You couldn't exactly tell, your brain still struggling to make sense of where you are and how did you got there. The last thing you remember was fighting a group of rogue ninjas near Amegakure, before something was wrapped around both your arms and legs, forcing you to the ground. You must have passed out because now you were on the river bank near Konoha, a place where you and Shikamaru played from dawn to dusk when you were children.

"He probably brought me here to clean my wounds", was the first thought that came to your your head, while you tried to lift yourself on your elbows.

"Shika, what-"

The words got stuck in your throat, once your friend's hands found their way around it once again. His nails dug into the skin and you winced in pain, your own fingers wrapping around his wrists in an attempt to pull him away. His power, however, was no match for you and all you could do was stare at him with wide eyes, a silent plead for him to let go.

"Just shut the hell up, troublesome woman! You always ramble on and on, and on...", the fingers on your neck tightened their grip and you opened your mouth, desperately trying to inhale some air and combat the dizziness that started to consume you due to the lack of oxygen. However, Shikamaru did not seem impressed by your struggle or the way you kept tapping his arm. Instead of freeing you, he leaned forward, pressing his full body weight on you.

"I've never hated any sound more than my name coming out of your lips! I fucking hate it! I fucking hate YOU!"

Hissing the last words through gritted teeth, he finally let go of your throat, only to smack his palm against your cheek. Your head whipped to the side, a few droplets of blood flying from your mouth. The burning feeling on your cheek, however, felt almost insignificant compared to the overwhelming feelings of shock and confusion that paralyzed your body. The echo of his words kept sounding in your mind, each repetition making your heart beat faster and faster in panic.

"What...", you chocked out, eyes searching his, "What's going on?"

A dry, almost sinister chuckle left his lips and the sound sent shivers down your spine. He lowered his head right above yours before grabbing your cheeks in one hand, squishing your face. A small whine sounded from you and the man narrowed his eyes, observing you with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"Look at yourself... calling yourself a ninja, yet you can't handle even a single mission by yourself!", he muttered with disdain, his gaze not leaving yours. You tried to pull your head away, but his grip was so tight, you were unable to move even a muscle.

Tears of frustration started to form in your eyes, a few sliding down your cheeks. Normally, in moments like these, Shikamaru would be the one holding you, muttering sweet words of comfort in your ears. His hands would stroke your hair, while he rocks your body back and forth till you calm down and fall asleep on top of him.

Now he offered nothing but a look of disgust.

"Wh-What are you doing?", your voice betrayed you, sounding smaller than you intended to, "Shikamaru, why are you holding me like this?"

The first rule of the shinobi was to never give up. It was a life full of pain and sacrifice, but the end goal was the protection of the people - and for that, you had to fight, even if you had no energy left in you.

But as you laid beneath Shikamaru, staring at his dark eyes, full of contempt, you couldn't do anything but let the tears fall freely from your eyes. A good ninja would probably seize the moment and use it as a distraction to draw their weapon and stab their attacker, but how could you do that, when the person on top of you was the person you loved and cherished the most in this world? The person that has been your best friend for more than 10 years? The person who was your rock during the hardest periods of your life? The love of your life?

Before you could realise what was happening, his hands lifted you by the neck, pushing your head below the water again. This time, however, there was no comfort in it - it was cold and unwelcoming, sending waves of shock through your entire body. It stung your eyes and it filled your nose and mouth, making you panic. Your mind screamed at you to fight back, to somehow wrench yourself out of his grasp. Throwing both your arms and legs around, you tried to throw him off you, but his fingers only dug deeper into your skin, his knees landing on top of your thighs to keep you still.

Just as your vision started to fade, he brought you back to the surface and you gasped for air, choking in the water still stuck in your lungs.

"I fucking hate you... Do you understand that? I hate the way you whine all the fucking time, clinging to me like a leech! You always cry, never taking any responsibility for anything!", his tone was low, but filled with hatred, "I hate you so fucking much, I've been fantasizing about how to shut your mouth once and for all for so long!"

Barely giving you a chance to even register his words, he pressed your head down once again. Unlike last time, you were under only for a few seconds, before he pulled you out.

"You are nothing but a burden! To me, to your family, to everyone in that damned village!"

"NO! STOP!"

Each word felt like a dagger piercing through your chest, crushing whatever hope remained that all this was just a bad dream and that you would wake up any moment in Shikamaru's bed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

What the hell happened during your mission? When did he even appear? Did he save you? Why was he so angry with you?

Your head was filled with questions and soon there was nothing but a messy tangle of thoughts. A small voice at the back of your mind kept repeating his words.

"Nothing but a burden..."

The words hit deeper than you liked to admit. Back when you were younger you were the weakest kid in class, much to the dismay of your parents, both of which were great and strong shinobi. The other children rarely wanted to play with you - most of the time they viewed you as someone who couldn't keep up with their speed and energy. Naruto and Shikamaru were the only ones who reached out to you back then, the only ones who stood by you when no one else would.

While the blonde was a dear friend to you, nothing could compare to the bond you shared with the young Nara. He has always been a constant in your life, a safe haven to which you could run once the reality was too much to bear. Countless nights he held you in his embrace when you couldn't sleep because your family was fighting once again. He always left his window slightly open, an unspoken invitation for you to come anytime you wanted. Thinking back, sneaking into your best friend's bed at night was maybe not the wisest decision, as it was during one of these times you realised you were utterly and madly in love with him.

You remembered that night clearly. The two of you were laying side by side on his bed, the only light coming from the bright moon up in the sky. It was the night after Asuma's funeral and despite his initial warning for you not to come, you still made your way to his house at 2:00 o'clock at night. He didn't utter even a word when he saw you entering through his window, instead, he only lifted his blanket, making a space for you to join him. You laid down and he immediately pulled you under him, burying his head in the space between your neck and shoulder, his hot tears falling on your bare skin.

As he clung to you, your fingers gently rubbed his scalp, offering your silent support. What wouldn't you give to take his pain away, to bring back his beloved sensei, and to make him forget the horrors he witnessed that day.

"I don't know what I would do without you...", he whispered against your hair, his breath tickling your scalp.

"You don't have to think about that", you whispered back, your fingers still combing through his black locks, "I am here. I always will be."

Shikamaru didn't answer. Instead, he lifted his head and looked at you with his bloodshot eyes, before pressing his lips against yours. It was a quick and gentle peck, a promise of a friend, rather than a lover's confession. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, muttering a quiet 'I am sorry.', before rolling on his side and falling asleep.

Neither of you said anything about it afterward. The next morning you woke up and continued your usual routine, as if nothing had happened. There were moments when you wondered if it was all a dream - maybe you were so in love with him that your brain started to play tricks with you. Yet, there was a weird comfort in not knowing if it was all just an illusion. Sometimes you liked to think that it was, indeed, real.

Slowly losing consciousness due to the lack of air, everything started to fade, except the memory of that night. It kept replaying over and over in your mind, feeling so real, you could almost feel his chapped lips against yours.

How ironic and unfair was that? Your last moments are spent thinking about the man who is currently the source of your suffering.

Suddenly the grip on your neck disappeared and you felt something sliding under your head and knees, lifting you back to the surface. Too tired to fight or even open your eyes, you let yourself be carried out of the river. A frantic voice was shouting something right in your face, but you could not recognize it, nor could understand what it was saying. Your limbs, chest, and eyelids felt so heavy, all you wanted was just to relax and let your body rest.

The second you were laid down on a flat surface, someone's mouth was pressed against yours, blowing air into your lungs. The sudden rush of oxygen made your body jolt and you would've probably hurt yourself, if the person who was bringing you back to life did not have their hands on your chest, rhythmically pumping.

Finally, you took your first breath on your own and you coughed violently, turning your body to the side so you could spit the excess water from your mouth. The hands that saved you made their way to your back, gently patting it to help you stop choking.

"Shit, are you okay?", the sound of the familiar voice made your body freeze.

"No! It cannot end like this!", you thought to yourself, the feeling of panic already bubbling inside of you. What game was Shikamaru playing? He almost ended your life, just to bring you back... What type of cruel torture was that?

"Hey... can you hear me? Please, answer me. Please, I can't-"

Before he could finish, you turned toward him and punched him as hard as you could. The man stumbled back from his kneeling position, cupping his nose in an attempt to stop the flowing blood. You used the opportunity to drag your weak body away from him, ignoring the sharp pain that pulsated through each one of your muscles.

"Stay away!", you yelled, glancing back at him, "Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to kill me?"

The young Nara looked at you with a confused expression, taking a step toward you, but immediately stopping once he saw the fear on your face.

"Kill you? What are you-", the sudden realisation of what was going on downed on him and he lifted both his hands from his face in a defensive motion, "Wait! No! It's not what you think!"

Ignoring his words, you continued to drag yourself away, gritting your teeth at the feeling of your skin scraping against the ground. Looking in his direction again, you found he was already on his feet but he had not moved from his original position.

"Please... I'm not going to hurt you!", he begged, his voice filled with desperation, "Just stop for a second! Listen to me!"

Letting out a sigh, you dropped to the ground, too exhausted to continue your escape attempt. Deep down you knew there was no point - you were surrounded by nothing but a field and while you managed to create a significant distance between you, he was on his feet, while you were crawling on your elbows. It was clear that no matter what you did, you won't be able to run away from him. The only option you had was to just wait and hope he was going to finish this quickly.

"Why?", the question came out as a broken whisper and you were not even sure he heard it, "Why are you doing this?"

Shikamaru's gaze softened and he made a small step toward you, testing your reaction. When he saw you made no movement, he made another step before stopping again. Only the gods knew he wanted nothing more than to run toward you and hold you in his arms, making sure you were okay. The spark of fear in your eyes, however, made him control his urges and he used all his willpower to remain calm and rational.

Seeing you like this... it was like his world was falling apart. He was not a violent person, far from it, but somewhere back in his mind, he kept imagining bringing the rogue ninja that put you through this back to life, just so he could kill him again. And then again. And then again. As many times as it took for him to feel like he did you justice.

The image of your face twisted in a silent scream, your whole body covered in blood, was one that he was never going to forget. And oh, how he wished he could! Ino and Choji have never seen their teammate lose control like this, not even when their sensei died. The piercing shriek that left his lips the moment he saw you, the way he ran toward your body, the bloodthirst in his gaze, while he slashed the enemy's throat open... it was almost like something dark and demonic had possessed him.

"You were under a genjutsu... everything that you felt and saw... it was not real. It was NOT me", with each word he closed the distance more and more, till he found himself right in front of you. Crouching next to your form, he extended his hand to touch yours, brows furrowing when he saw you flinch back.

"Please! Whatever you saw, whatever that bastard made you believe... it was NOT ME!", his voice remained low, yet it was getting more distressed, "I would never, ever hurt you! Never!"

He reached out again, this time slower so he could give you a chance to comprehend his words and move back if you wanted to. Shifting your look between his eyes and his hand, you took a deep breath, before letting him touch you. The warmth of his fingers brightly contrasted with your cold skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"It's me...", his hand slowly moved up toward your face, cradling your cheek in his palm and gently stroking it with his thumb. Your muscles remained frozen, still unsure if this was a trick or not, "I'm here. I'm here..."

He kept repeating the same words over and over, while cautiously moving his body closer, so he could wrap his arms around you. Your eyes danced around your surroundings, finally appreciating that you were in fact NOT next to the river in Konoha. Instead, you were at the exact same spot where you lost consciousness during your fight. The pieces of the mystery of what happened finally started to come together in your mind and the reality hit you like a wave, washing over the lingering doubts in your mind.

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a loud sob. And then another... Soon, the tears started freely flowing down your cheeks while your body shook with the intensity of the shock of what actually happened. Shikamaru kept you pressed tightly against his chest, his own tears falling on top of your hair, while he rocked both of you back and forth.

"I am so sorry!", he muttered, pressing his nose into your head, "I am so, so sorry! It's all my fault!"

"Shika-"

"If I didn't waste so much time planning and strategizing, I would've been here on time! I would've been able to save you, I would've been able to kill that bastard before he had the chance to hurt you!", he rambled on, more to himself than to you.

"Shikamaru!"

The sound of his name, together with the feeling of your fingers on his face finally caught his attention and he gazed down at you, his dark eyes still glossy and red.

"You saved me...", you said tracing his jaw, "You actually came for me."

He let out a quiet scoff, squeezing you tighter. His lips found their way to your forehead, placing a small kiss on it and lingering for a few seconds after that.

"Of course, I came for you, you troublesome woman", he sighed, closing his eyes. Holding the person you were in love with for years and who you thought you'd lost forever had to be the most surreal feeling.

At least for him.

There were a few seconds of silence between you, during which you just held each other. No words were spoken, but none were needed - the way you clung to one another, ignoring everyone and everything else, spoke of all of the feelings and affections you kept hidden in your hearts. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear Ino's voice talking, but your mind could not focus on anything but Shikamaru's heartbeat next to your ear.

"I've thought I lost you...", the sudden admission was quiet, almost as if he didn't really want you to hear it. He gulped, moving his head back so he can look into your eyes.

"That night when I said I don't know what I would do without you... I meant it. I still do! I would choose death any day if it means I wouldn't have to face the risk of losing you."

His words made your eyes widen and you stared back at him, trying to read his emotions. The Nara was not a man who liked to talk about his feelings, so any insight into his mind and heart was always surprising. A slight blush covered his cheeks, a sign that despite his moment of courage, he was still feeling nervous about your response.

"I love you."

"I love you."

Both of you blurted it out at the same time, your expressions slowly changing from scared to shocked. You blinked a few times, your brain taking some extra seconds to process his words. Finally, a small smile broke on your lips. Shikamaru, on the other hand, tried to remain serious, but the corners of his mouth kept tugging upwards.

"I want to kiss you."

"Is that your way of asking me for permission or you are just telling me?", you raised a brow and he let out a small laugh at your words.

"I am telling you."

With that one of his palms found your chin, gently cupping it and lifting your head toward him. You could feel his minty breath mixing with your own as he leaned in, not moving his eyes from yours.

The kiss was light, at first you barely felt his mouth against yours. It was delicate and somewhat unsure, just like the kiss you shared that fateful night. The more your lips moved together, the more confident you both became and he grabbed the back of your neck, holding you into place while his tongue met yours. It was all so new, yet it felt so familiar - almost like you've done that a thousand times before.

Finally pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath.

"You have no idea how many years I have been dreaming" about this", he landed one more peck, before scooping you in his arms and lifting you, "Let's go home."

cc artwork: Xiaodi Jin