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spidxysense · 3 years ago

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Back to You | 14

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

In a few short months of your movie premier with Timothee, you were finally able to release your double-release album, and the response was massive, to say the least. You'd been getting calls from different show hosts' upcoming awarding ceremonies. Still, you couldn't for life in you accept, all except for the Oscars, which your manager told you was a must since you'd be attending in the first place anyway and that performing at the Oscars was a big deal given that you also starred in films and shows.

You turned in bed, facing Timothee's sleeping face. He had been in town for a week now, back on a break from filming in Hungary. Then he'd be back to film in England in a couple of weeks. After your talk on your premiere night, it was to an agreement that whatever you had going on was just two people exploring and experiencing things with someone they had strong feelings for. There wasn't a need for a media circus to cover anything about you two except your movie.

You move his arm, placed it over your waist, and sit up slowly in bed, making sure not to stir Timothee. The jetlag must be shit. You stretched your arms in front of you, glancing at the clock that read 2:07 AM. You get up, grabbing Timothee's white shirt from the floor, and, putting it on, walking over to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, touching some of the reddening parts of your neck courtesy of Timothee, and then you notice the toothbrushes… there were two. From this single thing alone, it had you catching everything about the bathroom, how there were two towels, one black, and one violet, which just so happened to be your favorite color.

You walked over to the nightstand beside the bed, putting on your skinny jeans, turning on the lamp, and noticing his wallet. Inside was a picture of you. Opening the closet doors, the ones hung up were various suits, jackets, and even dresses you've worn to events. Why didn't he just send these back? Why would he let you keep your stuff in his house?

You drag your feet downstairs, noticing small details you'd been blind to before, like the large dog bed positioned by the door despite Timothee telling you he could only ever get himself to take care of a tiny dog. You noticed the colored mugs and bowls, a deep dull navy blue color, the same as the ones in your house. Suddenly, everything feels as if it's moving too fast. You both agreed there was no relationship, and there was attraction, but why does his home feel like it's become yours as well?

You sit down, taking a few deep breaths before deciding to stand up and grab your cardigan from the coathanger, opening the front door and closing it behind you as you waited for a taxi to bring you to the more active part of the city at night.

You just couldn't deal with a relationship right now. You couldn't let your heart get broken again, so you have to find ways to distract yourself.

The car stops in front of you, driving off into the night and dropping you off by a club that Troye agreed to meet you at.

You and Timothee had an attraction, but you both agreed there was no label; ergo, there was no intimate relationship even though you both have done everything together. No boyfriend means you were free to do whatever you wanted without worrying about him. But if you were honest with yourself, this was more of you suggesting something you already knew Timothee wasn't too keen on agreeing with but would just because he thought that having something with you was better than absolutely nothing. You saw Troye waiting out by the back entrance for you when he spotted you and called you over. Almost like clockwork, every time you snuck out away from Timothee, everything in you screamed to turn back, to clear your head, and for the first time, you listened.

You motioned for Troye to go ahead and sent him a text that you'd probably just head home because you weren't feeling well. He gave you a knowing look before looking like he finally approved of your actions and sent you a quick and short 'Good." text, and headed inside.

You walked around for a while after that. Soon it was already just about 5 in the morning, and even though you wouldn't let yourself come to any conclusion as to what you even wanted out of this almost relationship with Timothee, you still found yourself back at his front door.

You took out the keys in your pocket, slowly opening the door only to find Timothee sat on the couch, his knees up to his chest as he stared off into space, either deep in thought or trying to keep himself awake… maybe even both.

When he saw you enter, a soft smile formed on his face, and for some reason, that made you smile too.

"Hey, you." He spoke softly.

You sat down quietly next to him, instantly he set his feet on the ground and reached over to embrace you in a hug, the familiar scent of Timothee that never left you that evening even more evident… It felt and smelled familiar, and right now, while your mind was a mess, familiarity was what you needed.

Timothee lifted his head, worried, "Hey, are you alright?"

You sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

He murmured quietly into your neck as he peppered kisses, "You could never."

You pulled away, feeling guilt in your bones, "Aren't you even a little bit frustrated that we've been like this for months? That even in private, we can't even say that we're in a relationship?"

You gave you a reassuring look, "We both wanted this Y/N."

You sat up, "Except we didn't… You didn't." You corrected yourself, "You're bringing your mother to the fucking Oscars next month because I told you we couldn't be seen together at carpets for Pete's sake."

You stood up, starting to pace back and forth, "We have to coordinate outfits for the sake of not matching, and we never go out because I can't be seen with you in fear that we're going to get found out. I'm a terrible fucking person, and I don't understand how you're so okay with this."

Timothee was grinning, sleep still in his eyes, "I'm okay with it because I love you, Y/N."

You froze in your spot, "You what?"

He nodded and got up, walking over to you. The blue light of the early morning peaking through the curtain made this moment feel and look ethereal, "I said I love you, Y/N. I've known that I loved you from the moment I met you." He kissed the top of your head as he embraced you.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, you don't. I'll even list more shit I've done to you just so you understand how and why you don't love me."

Timothee chuckled, "And yet despite all this... all that's registering in my head is the fact that you've been thinking of me and only me this whole time. You've been worried about how you're hurting me because you don't want to."

And that's when you realized that Timothee was right. This whole time you've been thinking of Timothee and how much you wanted to protect him from you, but he never wanted to be protected from you because he knew that you could never hurt him. You rested your forehead against his.

"I-I need to go. I need to think."

He smiled sadly, "I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here Y/N until you don't want me to be here anymore."

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You sat in your house, since leaving Timothee's earlier, you had been sat there lost in thought as you argued with yourself. It was true, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Timothee, but you were confused because it's like you couldn't understand your feelings. After all, a particular person still held a large part of it in his hands.

Timothee was there for you. Late night at the recording studio, whether through being there physically or even calling you or skyping you, he was always there. He was there with you when you bought all your albums from Target, and he was also the one who insisted you find another target that hasn't sold out your CDs so he could buy all of them too. Timothee was there with you when you had interviews that you almost felt like you could puke from nervousness backstage as he watched you talk about another celebrity you were getting linked to, and he was there with you to giggle about how stupid talk shows were. Timothee was always there. Whether it was dancing, kissing, or even fighting in the rain, he was always with you. He always wanted you around. Even when you rode the subway to get to a press conference of his or a promo for his upcoming movie, he always wanted you with him. He'd run with you in the rain, and he'd kiss away the sadness when you didn't want to speak with him. He was there with you when you get the sudden urge to buy all the popsicles from the nearest whole foods, and he was there with you when you got sick with the flu, which he also got from you. You'd spend afternoons walking around a far-off hill as you two put flowers in your hair despite knowing that you two probably had your busy schedules. Nothing mattered when you were with Timothee. Nothing mattered except each other. A part of you felt hurt that these memories you had kept of you and Tom were slowly being replaced by everything Timothee, but a large part of you also knew that the person you have now had no doubt that you couldn't ignore your feelings. You couldn't have to take Timothee out of your life.

Making up your mind, you got up, got dressed, and left for where you were sure you would find Tom.

He was in the middle of filming a new movie, but the second he saw you, he immediately asked to stop filming, a familiar, loving face plastered on as he walked over to you before being stopped by the director. They looked to be having a bit of a disagreement before he pointed you out, and the director looked at you in realization, patting him on the back and allowing him to jog over to you.

"Hey." You paused, your hand grasping your arm, and Tom took notice right away.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls you to sit by the curb as you two sat side by side, "You only do that when you're having a hard time saying something."

You gave him a look, "Well… I came here to ask you if it was alright if I try things out with Timothee."

He looked taken aback, "Oh, well, honestly, I thought you came by to sort things out between us…." He took notice of the way you looked down in guilt, "I don't think you could do anything with another guy that wouldn't upset me… but I don't really get that prerogative anymore, Y/N." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you to comfort you, "The fact is, you're trying to grow into who you've always wanted to be, and I'm trying to do that too for the sake of us and what we could be. If that means that you need or want to date someone again, I'll fully support you, but the most important thing is, does he make you happy?"

You sighed, looking out onto the filming lot, and nodded slowly, not noticing the slight upset look on Tom's face, "I catch myself sometimes smiling to myself when I think of him… But it's like I can't do anything because I don't want to let go of what we had."

Tom took a gulp, deciding that what was important right now was you, more than what he wanted, "What we had and what we were isn't important anymore Y/N. I'm working towards what we could become. What we had was co-dependency and a constant need to be in each other's presence to prove that what we had was perfect. I want us to find each other again in the future and know that no matter how far apart we are, if hopefully, we get together again, there is nobody in this world we'll love more… and that's what I'm encouraging you to do. I want to grow with you and grow for each other, and if that means you dating other people to understand yourself more, then I support you."

You looked at Tom for a second before hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, "I really needed that, Tom. Thank you."

He hugged you tighter, "Anytime. I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

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You gripped your seat in the car in pure nerves. You were on your way to the Oscars with your assistant constantly telling you about your performance and what not to mess up and things to remember, especially about reporters who wanted an interview with you. To say you were all nerves today was an understatement. You hadn't spoken to Timothee ever since you told him you needed time to think, so today would be the first time you would ever come face to face with him. You thought long and hard about everything between the two of you. Still, you think you're finally ready to actually put some time and effort into this… and if that meant doing things that would significantly make Timothee happy, then you'd do it.

Your assistant watched a live feed from the Oscars as she gave you updates on how Armie was on the carpet. Saoirse was on the carpet, talking about how she hoped to make a movie with you and various other stars. You were a few minutes away from the carpet when she spoke up again.

"Timothee has just arrived." then she looked at her phone and back at you, doing a double-take as you gave her a sheepish smile, all she could do was smile approvingly at you before going back to giving you live updates.

A few minutes later, and your heart didn't feel like it was going to slow down anytime soon as your assistant gave you a pep talk, "Y/N. You are gonna rock that carpet, you'll turn heads, and most importantly, you're gonna be the talk of the night. There is nothing that could go wrong tonight. Just take deep breaths and don't trip."

Luckily you were still coherent enough to understand what she said as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"Alright, three… two… one." The door flew open as one of the large men in suits grabbed your hand and helped you out. Your dress was not providing you much flexibility to move, and for almost 15 seconds, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion as everyone was quiet. You found Timothee busy with an interview as the crowd looked from you to him, the topic on everyone's minds for the past few months. As if this were the only proof they needed, they held their cameras in their hands as they snapped pictures of you and a commotion started as they started asking for Timothee.

You think you gave them a quick, charming grin as you told them he was in an interview before walking towards the interviewer and Timothee. She was the first to notice while Timothee talked about how his mom stood him up as his Oscars date, something you arranged a week earlier and something Timothee's mom was more than happy to comply to.

The interviewer looks ecstatic as the only one and the first one on this carpet to get whatever the scoop was here, as she wasted no time when you slowly approached them, "Timothee! You said you were stood up, but you never told us that your backup would be late!"

Timothee shot her a confused look before he felt your arm slowly snake around his arm, "Sorry I'm late." You quickly whispered to him.

His face looked shocked. Almost as if a reflex, he almost pulled away from you before getting a good look at what you were wearing. His jaw looked like it would drop to the floor as he looked utterly awestruck.

The interviewer giggled nervously, already knowing her interview time was slowly coming to an end without any payoff to the two of you, "Timothee, you look to be speechless at Y/N's dress tonight." She looked at you hopefully, "Could everyone here assume this is date night?"

You smiled shyly at the lady before giving her a tiny curt nod, "I know it's a bit cliche to match outfits, but when I saw that Timothee was going to wear a harness, I just couldn't let him take all the attention for tonight, so I apologize, but I've kept this secret from him too just to make sure he doesn't do anything to take the spotlight, that's why he looks like he's just had a heart attack." you giggled.

He gave a quick, playful tilted look to you before blinking multiple times, "In my defense, I didn't even know that this was a harness... They told me this was a bib."

"Bib or not, you two look like the sexiest couple on the carpet, and I just so happen to be the luckiest interviewer tonight." The interviewer looked ecstatic as can be as she jumps up, more energetic to interview the two of you, "And well, Y/N, one look at you, and it's hard to believe anyone would still have the ability to speak. You look gorgeous." She winked at the camera, "But I can't help but notice you just confirmed this is date night… Is it safe to assume what everyone has been wondering for the past few months? That you two are dating?"

Somehow, Timothee finally snaps out of it and looks at you, a questioning look before you leaned over and spoke into the mic, "Yeah. We're together. We have been for a while now." You smiled sheepishly as you saw Timothee's face glow as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "I apologize for keeping quiet for so long, but we think it's the right time to go public now that we've decided to take things to a more serious level."

The interviewer waves a hand in the air, "As long as you two let us in on the secret, there's no problem there." She faced the camera, "You heard it here first, folks. Hollywood's newest and hottest up and coming power couple. From both Y/N and Timothee themselves, now going public with their relationship."

As you two walked away from the interviewer for more pictures, Timothee embraced you, uncaring of the cameras flashing in your faces, "Are you serious?"

You nodded slowly, "I'm ready to be with you completely, Timothee. I'm sorry I took so long."

He shook his head like a puppy, "As long as you're here with me now, Y/N, I don't care."

He pulled away at the sound of your name and his in the same sentence as the photographers asked for your attention. He quickly kisses you on the cheek as you shut your eyes and grinned, cameras going off and commotion started up at you two, the young hot couple everyone had wanted more details on.

Timothee clutched your waist tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, this would all go back to how everything was before.

Before entering the venue, he pulled you to the side, "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to force yourself."

You shook your head, guiding his head to yours, "I think I'm in love with you too, Timothee. I'm all in with you." And then you kissed him.

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy #selena gomez #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x reader #bty #back to you #i finally updated #im so sorry i took so long #thank you for being so patient and always supporting my page #spidxysense

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draco-spencers-paramour · 4 years ago

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congrats for 300 followers! can I request a 🖤 with draco they have a sort of arrangement where everyday after work he goes to her house eats her out and have sex and then he leaves. they never talk but are catching feelings so one day when he comes as usual. Instead of him going down on her she gives him head and asks him to stay the night when they talk and finally confess?

This description is dirty af.....i love that😉

What you don’t know can’t hurt you

You never expected that after the war the person who helped you forget about the painful memories was the one and only Draco Malfoy.

You had spoken a few times, nothing serious. It was evident that you were both attractive people and there was a mutual awareness of that. Nothing really happened until after the war when school ended. Both of you were left broken and sad, ending up at the 3 broomsticks and then fucking back at yours an hour and a half later after at least 4 drinks about 6 weeks since you’d left hogwarts.

Draco had a job as an auror and you were a healer. Your arrangement was simple. He enjoyed going down on you much to your delight, and sex. But he never gave you the opportunity to do oral on him. Being the gracious person that you are, you wanted to return the favour but no. Because then it was over and he’d leave.

This had been going on for 6 months straight. You and him both trying to find some kind of release and comfort. The only issue was that you both became absolutely head over heels for each other but you had a fear of messing things up and ruining your arrangement which stopped your confessions of love. He longed for you, silently pining in desperation for one of you to just say something. Whereas you thought he just needed someone to use to fulfill his sex life, like his own personal fucktoy. Not that you minded but it did make you feel like shit after he left.

However, would you even call Draco your friend? Or was he just a lover..a regular hookup? you weren’t sure but you wanted more than oral and sex. It was mind-blowing but there was not much interaction though just whining of names, moaning and curse words. Even when you’d see each other in the street or at gatherings, you’d exchange the soft hello and not say a word to each other for the rest of the night but would probably leave together to go and fuck at yours.

Tonight was the same weekday routine. You finished your shift at St. Mungos before coming into your apartment in Godric’s Hollow. You got undressed had a shower and put a robe on before sitting on your couch with a mug of tea practically waiting for the boy you loved to knock on the door. And he did.

You swung the door open to see Draco looking rather upset. ‘You alright?’ you asked. He nodded before entering the room and you swiftly shut the door. He placed his work bag down before turning around and immediately placing his lips on yours. You became dizzy and light headed from the emotion he was pouring into the kiss. He must’ve had a really bad day you thought. He picked you up and pinned you against the door, lips never leaving yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you submitted full control to him, the bottom of your robe hiking up around your legs almost exposing you bare as his hand travelled along your thigh.

Draco carried you to the bedroom like it was second nature and laid you down on the bed. He began to kiss down your neck as per usual trailing down to your panties. You really wanted to give him full pleasure tonight so you stopped him at your navel by tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Could we switch tonight? maybe i go down on you instead?’ you bit your lip nervous at his reponse. He gave a small smile ‘If you want.’

You smirked and flipped you both over so that he was against the bed lying down. You slowly and teasingly removed your robe. Draco’s icy eyes were over taken by his pupils and his lips parted at the sight of your beautiful naked body. You removed his shirt before sinking to your knees, on the carpet, below the bed and began unbuckling his belt. You took of his trousers and boxers in one swift movement so that he too was now naked. Draco’s dick was prominently standing up against his stomach when you then slowly wrapped your hand around his length and licked up from the base to his tip.

He threw his head back and moaned ‘Oh god y/n, good girl’ this encouraged you to slip your lips around him and slide his cock in and out of your mouth. Draco kept moaning, grunting and swearing as you explored different pressures and boundaries. ‘Fucking hell..i’m gonna-.’ he said as you took him all in and sucked lightly. He gave a long low moan as he came in your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it.

you came up to kiss him which he gladly accepted and flipped the dynamic again with him on top. he pressed your hips into the mattress as he slotted his body in between your legs whilst his mouth was still on yours. He looked at you with an expression you’d never quite seen before. It was soft, curious and lustful almost bordeline loving. He then looked at you as to say ready?

you nodded and smiled before feeling the tip of his cock rub against your clit making you moan softly. Immediately after, you felt what you had been waiting for. Draco. His dick entered you slowly and he set a slow pace. He put his head in the crook of your neck and began kissing and panting. The pressure of the pleasure was too much for you both. The slow pace was absolutely fucking heaven. You were both on cloud 9, involuntarily clenching around him with every thrust. This was not sex, he was making love to you.

‘Oh Draco. Yes...yes..more.’ you whined. He moved his head to suck on your tits as he was fucking into you. That was what pushed you over the edge and you screamed out a string of expletives along with draco’s name as you orgasmed and clenched around his cock. Seconds later he met with his own release cumming inside you, pulling you into a kiss as he came.

Draco slumped on top of you waiting to catch his breath. You knew it would be about another 30 seconds before he got up dressed himself and left. Just as you predicted he stood up, out of the bed and went to the carpet where his clothes were and began to put his trousers back on. No you thought you couldn’t go on like this any longer.

Before your brain could even stop you the word fell out. ‘Stay’ you said, terrified. He blinked and look at the ground and then back up at you and it was simply ‘Okay, sure.’ He removed his trousers being naked once more and climbed back into your bed with you. Draco’s arms instantly came around your waist and you put your leg across his stomach, rested your head on his chest and put your arm across too. You were cuddling Draco Malfoy post-sex.....this does not happen ever **The beautiful boy laid there looking up the at ceiling as you just looked at him

Your eyes finally met ‘You know, we don’t actually speak very much, if at all. Everytime we see each other we say hi but then we don’t talk.’ Draco pursed his lips ‘I don’t know how to speak to people. Especially if i’m fucking them.’ you looked at him confused ‘But the only person you’ve been fucking for the last 6 months is me and when we were in school it was pansy in 5th year and you spoke to her ’ he nodded ‘I know but she was terrible and I didn’t and don’t even like her. It’s just different with you.’

you removed yourself from him and sat up and furrowed your brows ‘Why? Because I’m worse?’ he sat up also and put his hand on the small of your back ‘Merlin, no you’re the best I’ve ever had. But it’s not because of any of that.’ you looked at him even more puzzled ‘Then why?’ you questioned again. He sighed before looking down ‘I love you.’ he admitted. Your eyes widened ‘What?’

Draco frowned ‘Im sorry. I do. I love you. I see you at gatherings laughing so carelessly with your friends and I wish it was me making you laugh. I time exactly when I’ll get to yours so that i know you’ve had enough time to get ready and settled before i come over. I know that you have green tea always and you enjoy watching the rain and having baths. You hate anything orange flavoured and you like muggle TV for who knows why. I know a lot more than you think I do because I want be the person who you feel like home with because I love you and i’ve just ruined everything.’ he put his head in his hands.

You carefully took his hands away taking in his broken hearted expression ‘I love you too Draco. So much’ you held your hands in his. He gazed at you in shock before tackling to you to the bed and kissing you. ‘So how about we get to know each other a little better?’ you suggested ‘Like a date night?’ he beamed. You laughed ‘Yes but right now I had more of a ‘round two’ situation in mind considering our current state.’ you looked between you two to see that you were still both naked.

He smirked ‘Read my mind Y/l/n.’ You kissed him again ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you more.’ he said

well....thank you anon. I enjoyed writing this far too much 😁

#draco fanfiction #draco fluff #draco imagine #draco angst #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco series

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thebeebi · 4 years ago

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your little games pt. 12

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: fluff in later chapters, smut, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 3k+ [part 12]

a/n: Hello, I am sorry for posting late, but I am trying to learn some coding so I could fix the tumblr themes up to my liking. ALSO huge shout out for people who messaged me a suggested some themes ♥ Love you. ♥

taglist: @njrwifey @danietoww04 @kaithezaftig @she-is-dreaming [If you want to be added, just let me know :)]

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11

In the silence, you could hear that Jungkook was back. He was taking off his clothes and the only source of light was the lamp from the outside. He laid down next to you and turned his face towards the door just in case something might happen again and because he could not look at you. It was silent in the room once again and the only thing you could hear was his breath, which started becoming more stable and calm.

Before you could even open your eyes, you heard that it was raining outside. The man lying next to you moved and pulled away the blanket that was covering him. Jungkook sat up at first then stood up. You finally opened your eyes and also hopped out of the bed which got his attention. He frowned while looking at you. “You do not have to wake up yet.” He said tetchily. “I have to take care of a few things and I cannot take you with me.” You opened your mouth in o while nodding. “Are you leaving right away?” You asked timidly since his expression was not the most welcoming you have ever seen. “No. Not right now. Firstly I have to wash up and then eat breakfast.” You looked around the room and then backed away from him. “If you don’t mind, I would rather wake up now.”

“Do whatever you want.” He murmured. “I don’t care.” When the servants from the tavern brought him the warm water into the tub, ha made sure it was the temperature up to his liking. Once they left and you stayed with Jungkook alone once again, he sat down in the tub. It looked like Jungkook was in a bad mood, enjoying the silence. It was too silent that you were scared to even come closer to him and offer him help with washing up. You gathered all of the courage and walked towards him but once you were close, you stood still unable to say a word. You tried to reach for the sponge, that Jungkook was holding, while your hands were shaking. Jungkook looked at you surprised. “What do you want?” He asked annoyed. “A cat got your tongue?”

You took a deep breath before you finally spoke up: “I want… I want to help you to wash up.” Jungkook frowned even more. “You don’t have to.” He spat out. “Go and dress up and if you want, you can eat breakfast with me.” You nervously backed away from the tub and turned to the chair, where you left the dress last night. It was more than evident that he wants nothing to do with you today. You decided to keep your distance for now so you won't make him even more upset with your presence. You decided it would be best to brush your hair. You made your way towards the mirror and started trying to fix the mess with the fingers while Jungkook got out of the tub. He took the towel that was hanging on the chair and wiped the drops that were slowly going down his toned abs. Once you were finished you made your way towards the table but at the same moment, Jungkook turned to you and also walked towards the table to grab the freshly washed white shirt. You quickly moved to the side to let him through, but the action was met with a frown. “You don’t have to be so scared.” He said bitterly. “I won't hurt you.”

You looked down biting your lower lip. “I… I am sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to be in your way.” Jungkook cursed under his nose. “I don’t care if you avoid me or be in my way. I am not planning on beating you for things as your aunt did. I have never hit any woman in my life.” You looked at him unsurely. Should you move or should you stay, where you are right now? Jungkook was trying to tie the ribbon of his shirt in the bow-knot but anger did not help him and he failed to do so. You walked towards him slowly and pushed away his hands from the ribbon. Jungkook was staring at you but you did not look at him back. With the nervously shaking fingers, you tied up his ribbon into an even bow. Then you walked towards the chair and took the coak. You approached him again, wanting to help him put it on but he grabbed it from you. “Let me do it.” He said looking away from you. “You go and brush your hair again with a brush.” You smiled and quickly nodded, running towards his bag to take out the brush. While you were softly caressing your hair, Jungkook walked to you and buttoned up your dress. You thanked him and shyly smiled.

After that, the days flew quickly and it was the day when Jungkook was supposed to take you to the dressmaker to try on the dresses they made so far and to check on the fittings. “Today you are supposed to go and try on the dresses.” Said Jungkook slowly and took a bite of the bread. “I will come to pick you up around 2 in the afternoon. Tell Jimin to ask for the carriage.” When he looked at you, you obediently answered and nodded while taking a sip of coffee. Jungkook was softly caressing your body with his eyes. You always tensed up feeling his eyes on you, but after a while, you relaxed but still blushing a little.

While Jungkook was eating, you were watching him in silence. He was wearing a dark blue coat with a stiff tall collar quilted with a golden stitch. The shirt and the bow were of the bright white colour and you could smell a soft hint of his cologne. He was dressed up perfectly as always and he looked so attractive that all women in the tavern went weak just seeing him breathe. Then you realised he had the same effect on you. It was more than often when you stood still while looking at him. You would keep looking at him but his sudden voice surprised you and you looked down at your bread on the plate. “Yesterday I lost the button on my shirt.” He pushed away the plate from him and wiped the plump lower lip. “I would like you to fix it for me. Jimin is not so good when it comes to these things.” He looked up at you and raised his eyebrows. “I am assuming you would be good at that.” You smiled shyly, glad that he finally asked you to do something. “Stitching is one of the works I enjoy the most. It is the first thing I was taught to become a proper lady.”

“A proper lady…” Murmured Jungkook more for himself than for you to hear. “Excuse me?” You asked warily, not sure if he is going to make fun of you again, not understanding why he would do that after such peaceful days you spent together. Jungkook did not answer but reached for the strand of your hair that was in your face and softly pushed it behind your ear. “I mean nothing by that, little one. I am just thinking about how educated you are in this field.” You thought he was making fun of you but weren’t sure and there was no way to find out.

The door to the tavern opened up and a tall young man entered in, wearing the typical coat that sailors wore. He looked around before his eyes stopped at Jungkook and he made his way towards your table. When he came closer, Jungkook stood up looking at him. “Good morning, sir.” Said the young man in the strange accent you could not identify. He looked at you then bowed while smiling. “Good morning, madam.” Jungkook introduced him to you as Kim Seokjin. When Jungkook introduced you as his wife, Seokjin showed no sign of surprise. For sure he was told about our marriage. You did not know to what extent and what kind of details he knew but you knew that he knew. When I will be big enough, the crew of Bangtan could count on their fingers and realise that we slept together before marriage. Seokjin’s face was really handsome but you thought that your husband looked better. Seokjin smiled at you brightly. “I am glad to finally meet you, madam.“ You smiled at him and Jungkook asked Seokjin to sit down while he sat down in his chair.

When Jungkook and Seokjin left, you returned to the room. You asked Jimin to bring you a needle with a thread and scissors so you could start working on Jungkook’s button. This kind of work relaxed you a little while you did not even know you needed it. With his shirt in your lap and a baby in your womb, you felt happy and for a moment you felt like a real wife. You stopped working and the calmness disappeared soon enough. Soon you will have to pack your bags and leave the place you called home. The new life you were going to live was still unknown to you. You will be brought to a place full of strangers and your child is going to grow up among them. You weren't sure if you are going to be happy there but only time will tell.

When you finished up the stitching, you folded Jungkook’s shirt and placed it on the table. Jimin brought you a light lunch and then you got ready to leave for the town to see the dressmaker once again. Jimin knocked on the door, telling you that the carriage was downstairs waiting for you. Suddenly you could hear the loud tintinnabulation of the bells in the town centre but Jungkook’s voice was the only thing you could hear. You smiled once you heard the footsteps in front of the room and when he opened the door and looked at you, Jungkook noted. “I see that you are ready.” He did not look as happy as you were once you saw him, he furrowed his brows looking you up and down. “There was nothing to keep me from getting ready” You smiled a bit but quickly looked away unsure if you won't make him upset. He handed you the cloak that was hanging on his forearm. “It is cold outside.” You took it from him. “I think this one will fit you better than mine.” At first, you thought it was another one of his cloaks but when you put it on, you realised it was for women and it looked expensive. You never had such an elegant cloak before, not even when you were living with your father. You run your fingers through the material smiling. “Oh, Jungkook.” You exhaled. “It's so beautiful.” He reached in to button it up, but you were so happy with the present you started turning and spinning smiling at how beautiful it was. You were moving from one side to the other to see it better which caused Jungkook to laugh. “Stay still, my little bunny, so I can button it up.”

You giggled happily and looked down at his fingers that reached for your cloak once again. Since you did not tie up your hair, they fell down and covered your face alongside with the button and the hole Jungkook was trying to find. “Well, now I don’t even see what I am doing,” he lectured you lovingly. You started laughing so hard, you bent backwards letting him help you. Jungkook saw how happy you were with a little present and he was honestly glad he decided to buy you such a surprise gift. His eyes darkened once you touched his chest with your hand smiling. At that moment your eyes met and the touch was electrifying. The moment was interrupted by the horselaugh from the outside and Jungkook pulled his hands away from you. He shook his head as if wanting to get rid of all the sparkly feeling and then he smiled again and reached out his arm to let you wrap yours around it. “Let's go, little one,” you finally laid your hand on his as he continued. “We have to hurry up.”

Mrs Dubois welcomed you in front of her shop and then quickly led you inside, not wasting any minute. “Everything is going smoothly, captain Jeon. We will make dresses on time.” Jungkook sat down on the offered chair and nodded. “Well done, madam.” The dressmaker then made her way to bring out all kinds of dresses. You walked to Jungkook and turned to him with your back, moving your hair to the front so he could help you unbutton them. His face had a strange expression when he reached up to help you and his fingers were clumsier than usual. You stepped out of the dress and Mrs Dubois helped you into the first one prepared.

“You are really lucky that it’s fashionable right now to have the middle higher.“ Said the dressmaker. “When the middle is so high, you will have no problem wearing this dress even in a few months when you will have a bigger belly. We will keep a bit of fabric inside, so you could cut the mold joint so it would create more room just in case.” Jungkook’s eyes suddenly slid down on his wife’s stomach. Today he forgot about your state and about the circumstances of your marriage. “Do you like the dress, monsieur?” Jungkook then looked at your body, looking you up and down, not really caring about the pink dress you were wearing and but was covering something he really wanted to see. He murmured something in agreement then looked away. Mrs Dubois kept on putting you in the dresses, asking Jungkook if he liked them and he just always mumbled something as a yes. He moved on the chair while seeing you in the beautiful black dress. He was sweating as he started thinking about how he almost broke his promise a while ago. If the moment in the tavern was not interrupted, he would have thrown away the pride and would let his words mean nothing in a second. If the moment was not interrupted, he would hold you, brought you to the bed and nothing would stop him from making love to you. Now he was painfully aroused and was watching you how you are putting on and off different kinds of dresses. He was battling with himself. His pride and lust were battling and Jungkook was not sure which one was winning.

He frowned and dusted off his coat, wanting to look anywhere but at you. He did not want to look at you anymore. If he did, he would just run to you and would act as some kind of animal. At that moment he would be content with the carriage and privacy it offered. Nothing would help you, not even begging. He was feeling as if his insides were rupturing because he knew it would cause you to hate him even more. To Jungkook, it looked like you were happy with the situation you two were both in and he was worried that you would start playing the game of cat and mouse if he told you that he wanted to make love to you. And who was he really to say anything to you after the first experience you had with him? But he did not want it to be like that again. He did not want you to be scared of him. He wanted to be gentle with you. He wanted to show you how beautiful it could be.

Jungkook was really unlucky. You tried a few more dresses and he was cursing himself inside for actually buying you that many. He was frowning more and more and whenever Mrs Dubois asked him, he would answer even shorter each time. Mrs Dubois just exhaled knowing that he was just like any other men. She thought Jungkook hated the time it took them to try on the dresses. Oh, how wrong she actually was. Jungkook moved to the side on the chair, looking at you briefly thanking God and the dressmaker for finally putting you in the dress that covered your bust. Is she really unaware of what she is doing to me? Even though he promised to himself he is not going to touch you, it did not mean that you in a sating undergarment did not cause him to feel things. It barely covered anything and his mind was already full of images of you without it anyways.

Mrs Dubois helped you into another dress and said something in a quick French. The dress was small around your bust causing it to almost spill over youre breasts. Jungkook started twisting on the chair and was cursing inside. The cold sweat appeared on his forehead and he dug his fingernails into his knees. “Oh, girl! I have to show her the mistake she made.” Mrs Dubois spat out. “Not everyone is as flat as she is.” The dressmaker ran out of the room and you could barely breathe in the dress that was still full of pins. You moved your arm a little but it only caused you to whimper in pain.

“Jungkook, could you, please?” You asked him pitifully. “I feel like as if I were a pin cushion. That girl left there all of the pins she used. I cannot even breathe, they are pricking me.” Jungkook rather unwillingly stood up and walked towards you and put his hand underneath your bust-bodice feeling the warmth of your body. For a second your eyes met and to your surprise, he started blushing. He quickly pulled away his hand as if he was burnt. “You will have to wait for Mrs Dubois.” He spat out. “I cannot do it.” You were surprised by how rough he was. Obviously, he was nervous the whole time he was sitting in the chair, moving around. You nodded silently and looked down. Does he hate seeing me in the dresses? But he bought them… Did I do something?

Chapter 13

a/n: how did you like this chapter??? How long do you think is Jungkook going to be able suppress all of his urges and feelings? ;)))))) If you have any guess and would like to share go ahead :D I know the answer and I am curious if you can get it right :D love you lots ♥

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damianosismyking · 3 years ago

Note

from the prompt list: 3 or 6 for lamen :) love your writing sm!

Hello dear anon! Thank you so much for the prompts and kind words <3 Unfortunately, this turned out a little long. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

|Prompts chosen from this list! |

#3: “Come with me to the other room” – “We are not going to talk about this now.”

#6: “Here, take my jacket” – “I told you I’m not cold” *shivering*

[1,9K words]

It had everything to be the perfect night, but of course, fucking Aimeric would ruin it.

Laurent had been impossible to convince, deadly opposed to getting out of the house unless it was indispensable, and more so getting out of the house to be somewhere loud and crowded.

In the end, Damen managed to convince Laurent through bargain: if he came with him to this one party his friend was throwing, just this time, then Damen would spend the next three months giving Laurent as many back rubs as he wished without complaint.

More than anything, Damen was just happy to get Laurent out of the house. It did him well to be around people that weren’t Damen or his coworkers for a change. To talk about things that didn’t include slide presentations and spreadsheets and whatever he saw on the TV or read on some site. Shake things up a little.

And it worked wonders. Laurent had found a clever girl with whom he connected and had been chatting for a while. He even allowed himself a soft drink (which didn’t have enough alcohol to qualify as an alcoholic beverage). Damen’s heart lurched as Laurent smiled politely, very obviously entertained.

Convinced that Laurent was fine on his own, Damen left the room to witness a drinking competition unfolding in the backyard. He fully intended to take part in it when the lightweight college boy on the left inevitably passed out.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. It was just enough time for Damen to step out to the backyard and see the college boy hurl his insides on the grass, and Laurent was poking Damen’s back with a brutal force.

The light quality that had been on Laurent’s face a moment ago had vanished. His jaw was locked, and Laurent seemed angry like Damen hadn’t seen in a while.

“What happened?” Damen asked, but as soon as the words were out, the reason materialized into the backyard.

Aimeric. Fucking Aimeric.

He came hand in hand with an older guy who was not Jord but might as well have been, greying beard, receding hairline and all. Aimeric’s hair had grown long enough to tie up into a bun since the last time Damen saw him. He greeted and smiled a very politician smile at some folks by the pool, making his way to them.

“What are you doing?” Laurent clutched the front of Damen’s shirt. His eyes on Damen were piercing, and Damen knew it was in an attempt to not let them travel east, to the last person any of them expected to see there.

If only Damen had known, he’d never have invited Laurent along. “Let’s go home,” he suggested.

“No,” Laurent replied steadfastly. “I want to see what you’re doing.”

Damen pulled Laurent to his side, a protective arm swung over his shoulders to keep him from view. The issue was that even trying to keep Laurent from harm, the harm had already reached him. Before Damen had a say in it, Laurent was stepping into the place emptied by the college kid, asking the host to explain the rules for the game.

Calling after him resulted in nothing. A second after, Laurent’s hands were tied back, and he was bending over shot glasses placed at the table, grabbing them with his mouth and tossing his head back to drink. He dropped the glass unceremoniously at the table to mouth the next one and the next one, down the line like it was water.

Laurent won, finishing his shots first. The next opponent took the place of the girl Laurent beat. Once again, Laurent won. He was getting ready for a third round when Damen stepped in.

“Come here.” Damen pulled Laurent closer reaching behind him to untie the hands.

“I was playing a game,” Laurent protested but ultimately allowed himself to be untied and dragged away.

Damen returned inside the house, guiding Laurent by the hand. The shots hadn’t hit him yet, but they would soon. Finally, they made it to the kitchen in search of water.

And there was Aimeric too, like a bad presage. In his heart, Damen prayed Laurent would overlook Aimeric with the back pressed to the stove talking to some guy who very evidently drooled over him.

Of course, Damen wouldn’t be so lucky, and Laurent would gulp his water while burying Aimeric with a deadly glare. It certainly didn’t help that Aimeric met the gaze and leaned into not-Jord’s ear to whisper something and giggle.

It certainly didn’t help that it happened again and again. One too many times.

If it bothered Damen, who objectively had nothing against Aimeric, he could only imagine what it did to Laurent to see his ex-friend magically pop up at every location they ran to and very conveniently start whispering to the nearest drooling idiot.

Laurent’s pupils were blown wide already and his lids heavy. It would get worse, and when it did, it was for the best if Aimeric wasn’t anywhere within Laurent’s sight.

“Come with me to the other room,” Damen whispered into Laurent’s ear.

“We are not going to talk about this now,” Laurent’s groggy response. He didn’t even bother masking that he was intently staring at Aimeric, who laughed carefree with not-Jord’s hand in his back pocket.

“Who said anything about talking?”

Laurent tagged along with Damen, wavering behind him. They crossed the restriction rope to make it upstairs, to the room area Pallas may get angry at him for invading.

But Damen knew the place, and he knew that in Pallas’ parents’ room, there was a nice balcony with a bench where he had sat more than once to get high with his friends throughout high school. It opened to the view of the sleeping neighborhood and blocked the noises from the party happening downstairs.

The night was chilly, even for late Autumn. It ruffled the tops of the trees and shifted strands of Laurent’s hair.

Damen started to remove his jacket, but Laurent rose a hand to his face. “I’m not cold.”

Laurent walked right past the bench and propped himself up to sit at the balcony with a leg hanging off each side. Damen went to stand beside him, in case Laurent lost balance.

Laurent breathed in deeply, his head lolling against a column. “I hate drinking,” he said, squeezing his eyes.

“Do you need more water?”

“No. I need to be sober.”

“Water could help you with that,” Damen pointed.

Laurent shook his head lazily. He swayed until his head hit Damen’s chest. “No.”

Damen tilted Laurent’s chin up to peck at his lips. Laurent’s mouth tasted disgusting, but he leaned in with a soft sigh, and Damen kissed him deeper. It went on for some time. When Damen pulled back, Laurent shivered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Damen offered, tucking a strand of hair behind Laurent’s ear.

“About what?” Laurent said. His speech was even more dragged than before, but he knew precisely what Damen had referred to. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Laurent.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” Damen recognized a sign to drop the subject when he saw one.

He knew, however, that the fallout with Aimeric was still a sore spot for Laurent. And that regardless of his claims, he missed his friend. Aimeric had been one of the few people Laurent trusted enough to befriend, and after the blown-out fight that resulted in them never speaking again, Aimeric changed drastically into the role of one of Laurent’s fiercer – if not to say most dedicated �� antagonists.

Laurent had been telling Damen for months that Aimeric fed people lies about him and twisted his secrets to tarnish Laurent’s image all around. Damen had thought it was the paranoia speaking, the way sometimes Laurent thought people were looking at him a certain way or laughing behind his back. But, as it turned out, Laurent had been right. The realization curled Damen’s stomach and boiled his blood.

“Are you going to tell Nicaise?” Damen asked, running his fingernails lightly up and down Laurent’s nape.

Laurent smiled. “I don’t want him to kill Aimeric.”

“Wise.”

Laurent’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. His pupils were so wide his irises were reduced to little blue bands. He shivered, losing a battle against his trembling jaw. “Here,” Damen said, “Take my jacket.”

“I told you, I’m not cold.” A strong shiver followed the statement.

Damen wrapped his leather jacket around Laurent and pulled him close, resting his chin at the top of Laurent’s head, blond strands tickling his neck. There was a good chance Laurent may fall asleep like that, and Damen would have a tough time getting him off the balcony. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No. I think.”

Damen laughed into Laurent’s hair. “Come lay down.”

“I’m not in the mood tonight, Damen,” Laurent frowned.

“I meant actually lay down. You’re barely awake as it is.”

“I’m awake,” Laurent said, but he swung his leg over the balcony and hopped off, staggering on his feet.

It was an easy task to take off Laurent’s sneakers and tuck him in bed, always so impossibly pliable when he had a little too much to drink. He was reaching the worse of his drunkenness, barely capable of keeping his eyes open anymore.

“Please tell me if you need to throw up,” Damen said, sitting at his bedside just to look at him. Even poorly illuminated and wholly wasted, Laurent managed to be the most beautiful thing Damen’s ever laid eyes on.

“Lay with me,” Laurent whined.

“In a minute,” Damen said. He planned to go back downstairs once he was sure Laurent had blacked out, to explain the situation to Pallas and try to save face, but Laurent didn’t need to know that.

“You think Ric is going to hate me forever?” Laurent’s eyes were closed, face going lax. The chances he’d remember that conversation after he woke up were minimum.

Damen ran a finger down Laurent’s cheek. His face was flushed red and warm. “Will you?”

Laurent nuzzled Damen’s hand, pinning it in place with his own. “Probably.”

Laurent’s breathing evened out. He didn’t stir when Damen pulled his hand from under his or when Damen stood. To make sure, Damen whispered, “I’ll be back in a minute,” into Laurent’s ear just to see if he’d react. When Laurent remained the way he was, without a muscle on his face twitching to indicate any part of his subconscious remained awake, Damen snuck out with silent steps.

He’d bring a bucket up with him when he came back. And a bottle of water.

Before that, though, he may have a thing or two to solve with a certain brunette.

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nose-bandaid · 4 years ago

Text

그해 그 달 그날 (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

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You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could.

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend.

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing.

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver.

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you.

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state.

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?”

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.

#pentagon fanfic #pentagon yanan #yanan #yanan fanfic #yanan x reader #pentagon fluff #pentagon angst #yanan fluff #yanan angst #requests #nose-bandaid

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emerald-studies · 4 years ago

Text

Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]

—-

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.

It was junior year that broke me.

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me.

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.

Fuck off.

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.

I said,

“No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.

Guess who didn’t notice?

All 8 of those concerned teachers.

They don’t give a shit.

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no.

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything.

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened.

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing.

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher.

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher.

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.

So.... discussion time.

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

#blm #black lives matter #education #academia #black women matter #discussion #racism #history #mental health

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bbnibini · 4 years ago

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – sixty-five🔖

A foreboding feeling won’t disappear from your heart all throughout class. The seat beside you was empty (Satan was still busy with his investigations with Lucifer), Levi was preoccupied with too many things to be confided anything with—apparently, Asmodeus was too, as he had taken it upon himself to “salvage” Levi’s “disaster of a party”, not knowing that it was not even a real person’s birthday in the first place. Simeon seemed amused at the contrasting personalities’ exchanges, and only intervened when voices were raised and Luke started crying when a binder hit him on the head from the heat of their arguments. Mammon was with Solomon, arguing over some magic formulae that he hadn’t quite mastered yet. Beel had been sweet and thoughtful, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t acting like himself lately. In contrast, his twin didn’t seem to have any worry in the world as he slept through most of his classes.

It was…too normal? No, that’s not quite the right word for it. Rather, it felt like they’re (sans Mammon) pretending that everything was fine, and whatever they were hiding, they’d rather not tell you. Disconcerting perhaps? You did know that now wasn’t the right time to ask anything. Despite your wariness however, nothing can ever prepare you for what happened once you went back in Lamentation.

…and by you, of course it meant everyone else, including the Purgatory Hall residents and Royal Castle residents. What were they all doing here? What's with the tense atmosphere?

"Over here." Satan called your name and patted the seat beside him on the large dining table. One would mistake the gathering as something more ceremonious, but there were no food displays nor feasts or speeches to toast to—only a forlorn Beelzebub who voiced out similar concerns to his drowsy twin on the other side of the table.

It was Lord Diavolo's voice that commanded silence in the dining hall. Whatever veneer of normalcy was now shed, and you began to feel the familiar uneasiness again.

"It'll be fine." Or so had Satan told you while Lord Diavolo made opening introductions about the issue at hand. Words such as brainwashing and poisonous herb came to light, supplemented by Lucifer, Barbatos and Solomon's observations. All three admitted to being part of a secret investigation team and caused arguments from the uninformed for a while, until the Demon Prince quelled their unrest by the finality of his words…or rather, his warnings.

"This is a serious matter. Their life is in danger, and so are their family's and friends'. For the sake of their safety, if you are ever involved in the concerned incidents, I implore you to present yourself and explain your reasons."

Belphegor didn't seem amused by the implications of the Demon Prince's words, and made such dissatisfactions clear with his retort: "Are you saying one of us tried to kill them? Do you have any evidence for your baseless accusations?"

"Woah, what the fuck? Why would we ever do that?! Why would we ever harm our human?” Mammon echoed Belphegor’s offense and retorted in the same fashion.

"That's how I reacted like at first, so I did a little research of my own." Satan replied.

Lucifer sighed deeply and looked at you as if telling you not to ask any details about your lover's findings, or how he went about obtaining them. You felt your heart tighten. Just what was Satan up to while he was gone?

"A generous (read: relented to his little brother's whims) source gave me a sample of the same poison used on the tin: a banned item. Needless to say, this person knows exactly what they're doing. I'd even go far as to say that they know about their birth origins and their connection to us seven."

"Why so?"

"I'm glad you asked, Your Highness. Every one of you must have a copy of my findings on your leftmost side. If you would turn to the seventh page—"

"...?!"

A delicious herb hides endless possibilities to an imaginative spellcaster. The potency of its effects when refined properly can serve as a catalyst for the most powerful spells. However, human mages wishing to seek its power must proceed with caution, as in certain doses…

Satan held your hand very tightly as he noticed you rest your back against the seat.

You heard him say "You can do this," as you read aloud, and even repeated those comforting words as you strained your ears to listen to everyone's feedback. However much you tried to listen in though, you can only think grim thoughts.

How can you…exactly make sense of this? That what?

1. Someone is absolutely trying to kill you. They even went so far as to use brainwashing to erase your existence to your important people in the human world.

2. They are aware that you're Lilith's descendant. Which makes sense why Lord Diavolo suspected everyone in the very room you're in right now(as it is a well-guarded secret).

3. The killer used an herb lethal to humans in certain doses, but an effective enough of a spell catalyst so that they can finish off the job in case you didn't consume enough.

4. The killer used a charm spell to brainwash his victims.

5. The killer is aware that demons are resistant to certain spells.

6. Your fallen angel blood will resist succumbing to the charm spell, but it cannot counter the herb's effects. Meaning, either you succumb to the poison or you will be in so much pain as your angel blood rejects the spell casted with the herb.|

7. The killer really really wants you dead.

"Wait a moment." In your cacophony of thoughts, an unexpected voice silenced the clamorous room. However, his gold and silver eyes didn't meet with yours. Instead, his attention was on the Demon Prince.

"What is the connection of the remaining two items to this, Diavolo? I only heard about the cookie tin being poisoned."

"It makes sense since I only asked Barbatos to commission you to make the antidote. No, these two gifts aren't connected at all. Ah.

I'm sorry!" Diavolo looked at you in concern as he called your name. "I didn't mean to make you distraught!”

Diavolo's apology caused everyone else to be calmer. A wave of apologies soon followed.

"Sorry we got carried away." you heard from Belphegor's side of the table, followed by Asmo's and Beel's concerned inquiries that you reassured with hopeful (albeit forced) smiles.

You felt Satan’s hand squeeze yours, only realising how cold and sweaty your palms were when you met eyes briefly. You turned to the next person who called your name.

"I apologise for my oversight. Have you calmed down a bit?" Lucifer followed, along with Simeon's and Barbatos' own inquiries which you reassured yet again with smiles. Your other hand squeezed Luke's own, feeling it trembling like yours. Knowing you're not the only one scared with all the revelations was reassuring in an unsettling way.

The little angel’s, “I’m okay! I have to be strong for the both of us!” wasn’t very convincing with how he stumbled upon his own words, but his intent and his meaning reached you and you were thankful just for that.

"I overestimated you. I'm sorry." Said Satan who kissed your threaded hands and you shook your head.

"You're right though. I need to hear this. I have all of you, I'm not afraid."

Regret registered in his features. You heard him sigh.

"You can be afraid." He apologised again. "You have the luxury to, with everyone here worrying about you."

He did make you feel better. You find yourself laughing a bit at how obvious his words were to you now. Everyone cared for you, you couldn’t help but think. You wanted to return their kindness in some way or another, even if it meant lying to your own feelings and twisting the truth for their own peace of mind.

"This is just…a lot of things to take in. Even the thought that one of you--"

"Do you really think it's one of us?"

You shook your head.

"Because it's not. You'll see. Everything will be fine."

Was it? Will it? Everyone seems to be trying to make it seem that way, so you'd like to at least believe it for their sake.

Your name was called again, this time by the Demon Prince who was leading the flow of the conversation. The apologetic look on his face stayed even with your assurances, and he seemed hell-bent (pun not intended) to make amends with you.

“This is my own oversight, I’m sorry. I should have been more thoughtful.”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine, Lord Diavolo.”

He pondered on your words for a bit, letting out an almost inaudible hum. “This wouldn’t do at all. I have offended not only you, but Belphegor and Mammon with my own baseless assumptions. I did not mean to accuse anyone, but it was clear that my words have caused both fear and offense.”

Belphegor looked like he had something to say, but Lucifer stopped him from talking prematurely. Lucifer exchanged looks with Barbatos, and the demon butler started to speak upon exchanging nods with him.

“It is most gracious of you, milord to acknowledge your lack of delicacy. There is a time and place for candour, as well as amelioration.”

“Barbatos…”

The demon butler noticed your stares and smiled gently at you. “Might I suggest an open forum? An opportunity for everyone in this very room to tell the truth for the sake of their safety? I would expect our precious human exchange student to also be truthful of their feelings, if possible.”

“Truthfulness? What a splendid suggestion.” Solomon said from the other side of the room. “Perhaps an elaboration on this truthfulness would be helpful on leading this suggestion into fruition.”

“Hm? Wouldn’t that just be similar to interrogations in mystery novels?” (Satan)

“That’s a fun way of doing it, I suppose.” (Solomon)

“Like D*tective C*nan?”

“Levi…” You shook your head repeatedly at your best friend as you noticed Lucifer’s deathly glares directed at him. Thankfully, he noticed immediately and was able to keep his fanboying in check.

“I agree.” Simeon added. “If it means it would maintain peace in this room and clear everyone’s doubts with each other, I do think it’s the best solution.”

“What do you think, Lucifer?” Solomon consulted his other “coworker”, and the eldest sibling sighed in relent. “It’s not like we have much of a choice. Leaving this room while still doubting each other wouldn’t be good for all of us, especially them.”

The first few minutes of the “open forum” had a lot of dead airs and awkward starts. Simeon encouraged a couple of unenthused demons to sit on the floor, all huddled up to each other to “promote intimacy and trust”, but all it earned him were overgrown groans and griping fitting to that of rebellious teens going through their middle school phase. A little problem with the whole huddling situation also surfaced when two unmistakably…large adult demons by the names of Beelzebub and Diavolo had exhibited visible discomfort on trying to conform with their peer’s original, cross-legged positions. Thankfully, a compromise was met and they were now seated more comfortably with their knees bundled up.

Each person who had to explain their side were made to go to the centre of the circle to “tell their own truth”, while the rest followed up with questions once they were done saying their piece.

The first to go forward was Barbatos, the original suggester. He seated calmly at the centre and started speaking once he was prompted.

“As all of you are already aware, Lucifer, Solomon and I are working closely with each other in secret to protect them. We have kept this from all of you in fear that it will only make everyone worry. I apologise for not considering all of your feelings.”

“Did you write the letter?” Satan asked and Barbatos shook his head. “No. I did not send the bouquet either. However, I confess. I was the one who sent the tin of cookies.”

!!!

Barbatos understood everyone’s apprehension and calmly continued his sentence. “Lucifer can attest for me that the cookies were not poisoned when I made it for them. He was with me when I have been baking the sweets for them and a few of our guests in the Castle.”

Lucifer confirmed Barbatos’ statements at his own turn. “They had expressed interest on the cookies before, so Barbatos included their share on the batch he had made for Diavolo’s guests that day. If he had poisoned Diavolo’s equally human guests, they would have all been dead by now.”

That makes sense. Besides, the real killer wouldn’t suggest such a disadvantageous method such as an open forum to put them on the spot.

“As for my own accounts, I was not aware of any letters or bouquets until the investigation team began our operations. I did put a note on their locker to summon them in my office. Judging from their absence, however…it must have remained to be seen.”

“Was it a blue sticky note with their name on it?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened as he turned to the Demon Prince. “How—”

“Oh, it was at my own batch of cookies for some reason.”

Lucifer sighed, realisation finally dawning on him. “Mrs. DeVille must have misunderstood my orders.”

“She’s a well-meaning woman, however misguided. I apologise on her behalf.” Barbatos bowed his head. “It is my own incompetence as her superior to have overlooked her capabilities.”

“Mrs. DeVille?”

Barbatos nodded at you. “Yes. She had been a servant at the Castle dating back to Young Master’s great grandfather. She’s one of our most loyal retainers.” There had been an apologetic look on his face as he continued to explain. “Her seniority precedes most of us in the Castle.”

“So she’s really old?”

“Belphie! You shouldn’t call a woman old!” Asmo scolded.

“But that’s what she is. OLD. Senile even. Isn’t that kind of servant just a burden to keep?”

“Belphegor.” Lucifer warned, causing the youngest to roll his eyes and mutter out a whatever under his breath in irreverence.

“The fault lies with me, and not with Mrs. DeVille. In any way, that matter has already passed. Whose turn is it in the hot seat this time?”

Asmo raised his hand, letting out a cheery “Me!” as he sat cross-legged in the centre. Contrary to the dreary atmosphere, the Avatar of Lust’s laid-back cheer offered comfort in the tense atmosphere. You briefly wondered if Asmo intended for that to happen, as the demon was rather perceptive if he wasn’t so hung up with himself.

“I mean, I didn’t write anything nor send anything, but don’t you think those sorts of romantic gestures suit me? I almost wish I were the one who sent both!”

…or so he says. Lucifer had been an effective buffer on Asmo’s foreboding tirades about love and beauty. Soon, Levi’s, Beel’s, Simeon’s and Luke’s turns came, all reiterations of the same tune of “It wasn’t me”, which freed them of any suspicions:

“You had a locker?” Was Beel’s innocent inquiry; his cluelessness a testament to your apprehension with his twin after…that. Of course, the situation has changed now, but it was too late for you to tell them—rather, it had completely slipped your mind.

Once Levi’s turn came, you both exchanged a conspiratory nod. "If I would give you any gift, I would just send it to you, not your locker." Levi shrugged. "Besides, we were always together. Sneak attacks like that aren't my thing." That was true. Any energy he'd have for scheming was better spent on his beloved strategy games.

“I didn’t send it. I was busy helping Luke out with his homework around that time, I think?” Simeon’s alibi was confirmed by the younger angel who had not only matching alibis with the angel, but also with their human companion.

“Solomon also helped us out a bit before meeting up with Asmodeus that morning.”

Solomon had a vague smile on his face as he looked over at you, noticing your stares.

“We weren’t aware of the cookies being poisoned at that point. However, Lucifer had suspicions that something wasn’t right when Barbatos made his usual reports to the human world.” He explained.

Lucifer nodded. “Right. When I saw you sharing them with everyone in Lamentation, the cookies were already compromised. It didn’t look the same as what they had been before Barbatos sent them to you.”

“So that’s why you wanted my advice on the charm spell…Mhm. I did meet with Solomon that morning after my spa appointment.” Asmo said. “Well, anyway! That’s that. Solomon, dear~ It’s your turn!”

Solomon sat himself on the centre in the same manner as everyone else and nodded. “What Luke and Asmo said were true. I was with both of them around that time. They have pretty much explained everything for me.”

“Even so, I would imagine hearing your innocence from your own lips is more reassuring than second opinions.” Barbatos said. The sorcerer smiled back. “Ah, but of course. Around that time, I was already working on the antidote for the poison your men have traced on their friends and family.”

“Ahh, I can confirm that as well. We have personally requested for his assistance.” Lucifer reassured. “Whose turn is it next?”

Satan raised his hand. Wordlessly, he sat in the centre and stated his alibi. “I did not send the bouquet, but I did give them a single carnation to cheer them up. I have noticed a tin of cookies in the locker then, but paid it no mind. I thought it was there to begin with.”

“So the cookies were sent first, then the flower? You mean to say there was no bouquet nor love letter yet when you placed your gift on their locker?”

“None to my knowledge.” Satan answered the curious Demon Prince. “Seeing as it seems like not everyone knows where the locker is located, is it correct to assume that the letter and bouquet sender is someone close to them?”

Levi vehemently shook his head once heads turned to him... “W-why would I send anything that embarrassing?!”

…then at Mammon, who jolted from his seat.

“Come to think of it, Mammon had been reaaaalllllyyyy quiet all this time. Suspicious.” Satan frowned.

The colour started leaving Mammon’s face as everyone turned their eyes at him.

His saviour, however bitter and resentful for Satan’s revelation interrupted the accusing party’s inquiries to him by speaking out of his turn. “Did you not tell Beel and I about where it was on purpose?”

You turned to Belphegor, interrupted before you can even speak.

“No. This isn’t about Beel at all. It’s about me, isn’t it? After all, deep down…you resent me, don’t you?”

“Belphie, I—”

"Me? Send anything in your locker? You didn't even tell me where it is!" The hurt in Belphie's tone made you realise how you had inadvertently hurt someone again due to your negligence. You wondered if your flustered apologies were ever heard. Then again, you'd rather for them not to. He doesn’t deserve a half-assed one at all.

The door slammed shut as the youngest left the room, and as you attempted to chase after him, Beelzebub held a hand above your shoulder and shook his head.

“He needs some time alone. He left because he didn’t have anything nice to say right now.” As he saw you shook your head, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“But—”

“Belphie’s not mad at you,” Beel reassured you. “He’s mad at himself.”

“It completely slipped my mind. So much has happened and…”

“Ahh. He understands that deep down, but he needs some time. I’ll talk to him if you want.”

“Thanks, Beel.” You tilted your head at the taller demon as you caught him holding back on his words. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Beel seemed really deep in thought so you assumed he was thinking carefully on his words. However, he said no.

“It isn’t my truth to tell.” He spoke cryptically as he shook his head. “No, please forget I said anything.”

You didn’t forget. But you felt like it wasn’t the time to ask him right now so you went back to your spot. Your eyes wandered to the shut door a few times with only Satan’s reassuring gaze quelling your anxieties and doubts.

By the time you came back, it was already Lord Diavolo’s turn. You can tell that he was more cheerful than usual; perhaps to ease the sour mood that filled the room with Belphegor walking out.

"No letter or bouquet could be enough to show you how important you are to Devildom! To me! I'd like to host a parade in your honour if I could!"

...You saw a pained smile from his competent butler and close friend and you could only offer your silent condolences. Satan had to be placated with sneaky kisses to his lips when no one was looking to quell his pouting. You thought Levi had noticed, for he rolled his eyes at both of you in disgust.

After a few more discussions, your mysterious letter sender finally revealed himself…you just didn't expect the person who sent it. Mammon's face looked like he had been through hell and back as he realised the gravity of the situation as well as the weight of his actions. With a face paler than usual, he approached you and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry!"

Along with his apologies was a clumsy explanation of his reasons. You felt like it was not the time to pry any further, so you told him to come closer so you could share some whispered words for him in embrace. "Let's talk later." Everyone else seemed puzzled at your brief exchange, but after assuring everyone that you're fine, they were able to move on to the other issue at hand: the bouquet sender.

Mammon was very adamant on his insistence that he was not the original sender. Even with the investigation team's confirmations of its harmlessness, no one came forward.

"It could be any demon in RAD, couldn't it? They're quite popular among some circles…of the non-gourmet variety, mind you!" Asmo then mentioned some names that Satan helpfully collated in his notebook. Close-eyed smiles and all, he insisted to be given a detailed list of all of them for investigative purposes. Thankfully, you were able to stop him before any more names on the list were ever written.

Beelzebub approached you again after the open forum concluded. The meeting hadn’t ended yet, however. Lucifer was giving some closing remarks, explaining how the human world investigations were progressing in more detail and answering inquiries (mostly Satan’s) about its progress.

“I lied. There is something I want to tell you earlier. I’m sorry.”

Okay? You were really confused now. “What is it?”

He looked intently at you as he spoke, carrying finality in his words. “The letter may be harmless but, I feel like no one else should see it.”

“Beel, you’re starting to scare me.”

Beel didn’t seem like his usual self. It felt like something was burdening him. When he realised how he was making you feel, he seemed genuinely apologetic and even awkwardly patted your head. “I didn’t mean to do that. I…just have a really bad feeling.”

Feeling?

“A gut feeling,” he explained. “Like something bad is going to happen if someone else gets their hands on your letter. Even Mammon.”

“Why would something bad happen to the original sender? Aren’t the letter and flowers harmless?” You remembered Barbatos and the others saying so.

“Yeah. Maybe I’m just overthinking this. Sorry for worrying you,”

Beel’s instincts to these sorts of things are razor sharp. You recalled Belphie telling you that his intuition had saved him countless of times, especially when he was still working as a soldier in heaven. The very fact that it bothered him enough to tell you about it must mean that it was really bad. So despite his words, you decided to listen to him. You decided to give Barbatos the letter after the meeting: it’s better safe than sorry.

When you went back to your seat, you saw that it was currently occupied by a teasing Asmo who was poking your more-than-friends demon on his cheek. “Cheer him up, won’t you? His whole thought process is absurd! And that’s coming from ME!”

“Absurd? What’s this about, Satan?”

You saw him cover Asmo’s smirking mouth as he explained himself. “He says I’m being overdramatic.”

“About what?” Satan’s cheeks dusted a lovely pink upon your inquiry, and Asmo had this expression on his face that BEGGED you to ask. And you being an enabler, humoured him. You couldn’t help it! Satan WAS adorable right now!

“…” Satan hesitated at first, until the whisper of his words grew louder as you repeated your questions.

“I was wondering if the bouquet sender would be able to sway your heart if he ever comes forward…

S-stop laughing! This is a genuine concern, all right?!”

Pfft!

“That’s a Mammon thing to say, Satan. I didn’t expect that.”

“Oh god, you JUST had to open your mouth, didn’t you Asmo?” You saw Satan cover his red-stained face with his hands in embarrassment. Unfortunately, his red ears couldn’t be hidden so easily.

This adorable, adorable man! You wrapped your arms around him and hugged the hell out of him. He’s so cute! (A complete contrast to the profanities coming out of his mouth right now, that’s for sure.)

“Solooooomoooon~ Satan is being meannnnn~!” And the instigator of all of this had now fled the scene, able to be caught by the human he was in a pact with as he pretended to faint.

“What’s this all about?”

You laughed nervously as you saw your fellow human was stuck in the same awkward position as you. “Asmo was teasing Satan about the flower sender stealing me away from him.”

“Hahaha! That’s cute. So the Avatar of Wrath is also an Avatar of Envy?”

You saw Satan glare at the sorcerer as you were in embrace. He was like a temperamental cat—but since he was in a grumpy mood right now, you decided to hold back on the teasing. Solomon seemed to read the mood too, and aimed to placate rather than go about his usual wise cracks.

“I don’t see the problem though?” Solomon asked, unfazed.

“What do you mean by that?” Asked Satan who had now exacted his “revenge” on his brother by a pinch on his cheek. A small yelp let out from Asmo as he attempted to do the same.

His smile never wavered as he held Asmo in his arms. “Well if you think about it, didn’t you find the real flower sender already? Satan is the only flower sender that matters to you. So, I don’t see why or how a mere reveal would change your feelings for each other if that were ever to happen.”

Satan seemed surprised at Solomon’s sensible answer. “I never thought of it that way.”

The sorcerer laughed a little as he continued speaking. “Sometimes, obvious little things like that slip our minds because the person we love is so close to us. Your feelings for each other is your own truth—a truth that only the two of you can know on your own. No matter how you arrive to that truth, whether it all started with lies or misunderstandings, the love that blossomed from those lies will never be lies.”

“Is that speaking from experience, oh wise one?”

“I’ll leave that to your imagination~” Wait. What does he mean by that? You couldn’t really tell with this man, sadly. And you didn’t get to ask anymore as he had been called by Lucifer to wrap up. Your attention immediately focused on the more important things.

“More important things”= A cute, pouting Satan♡

“So you’re worried I’ll fall in love with someone else?”

“Shut up…”

“I’m happy you’re worried though. I love you, Satan♡” You sneaked a kiss on his lips, which your temperamental cat boy shyly accepted.

The investigations continued to take place in your remaining days in RAD. However, the mysterious bouquet sender never came forward. Perhaps Solomon was right. It didn’t really matter anymore if the real sender would be found. Even if he would come forward and confess his feelings to you one day, you were sure that your heart would only ever be with Satan. That realisation however, would definitely cause heartaches to anyone else. You trusted Beel’s gut and gave Barbatos the letter immediately, so when Mammon finally talked to you about his letter, he wasn’t able to see it anymore. You weren’t stupid. You knew why he sent it, but you weren’t smart enough to know how to properly reject someone. Perhaps both of you knew what was going to happen as you remained silent in your room and never initiated conversation with each other once he entered the room. It was…awkward. And suffocating. Which was weird because it was just Mammon. He was one of the demons closest to you, yet he felt so far away now. Even his gaze was equally far away. Mammon’s fingers were fumbling with a thimble he found next to your bed—a failed attempt at cross stitching that you were too stubborn to give up on. You saw him marvelling over your botchy needlework, his thumbs feeling the rough and uneven bumps of thread. “This is one ugly cat,” His half-hearted insult was welcome in the unsettling silence, rising a laugh out of you as you agreed with his opinion. “I really wanted to do something for Satan. Maybe I should have thought of something else.”

“You really like my brother, don’t you?” There was no accusation in his tone, just mere curiosity. You nodded immediately and it caused him to laugh a little. “Can’t help but notice since you’re all over each other.”

“Sorry…”

“What are ye sorry for?” He playfully ruffled your head as he smiled. “I should be the one saying sorry.

No matter my excuse, I shouldn’t have tried to steal what’s important to ya.”

“But you didn’t know—“

“Are you kidding me right now? Why the heck are you defending me, idiot human!” Despite his words, he spoke in a fond tone. When you gave him permission to embrace you, he wrapped his arms around you and sighed in relief. “It’s easy to like you if you act like this, you know? But…you don’t have to like everyone who likes you, idiiiiot.”

“Mammon…”

“Listen, the Great Me was never rejected! You simply blew your chance! I’m such a catch, you know that?”

“Yeah…”

“You’re gonna regret ever letting me go.”

“Oh, I will!”

“It’d be more convincing if you aren’t laughing!”

Well, he was laughing too. So, who really is clowning himself right now?

“You’re thinking about something realllyyyy rude right now, aren’t you?”

Gasp. “You can tell?”

“Seriously?” He sighed and pinched your cheek. “Well whatever. Listen...I think you deserve to know the truth.”

His tone had changed now; from playful to solemn. The kindness in his touch remained. “Remember that little girl in the human world I was taking care of?”

“Yeah.” So it was true? Asmo said he was joking, but…could his brothers really know what’s going on in Mammon’s private life? There was an absence of mirth in his tone, as if he was exhausted and sad—you never saw that look on Mammon before so you didn’t know how to react. You could only listen in silence.

“…that little girl is really sick right now. She needs a huge operation soon if she…” He bit his lip and continued. “...she’s too young to die. And I can’t let her…not if I can do anything about it.”

“Aren’t the witches taking care of her?”

“Yeah. But…I shoulder her financially. Can’t really do all that when I’m dead broke.” He looked almost ashamed to admit it. “So I resorted to stealin’, even if I know I shouldn’t, especially to you. I thought you would understand if I tell ya. But…a part of me still thinks this ain’t right.”

“Mammon…”

“I can’t tell the others. They’d think I’m full of shit. Haha. Well, I am.”

“Only most of the time.”

“Shaddup! Hahhh…what do you think I should do?”

What should you say? You weren’t expecting he had such profound reasons. It certainly explained his desperation. However, you weren’t financially capable enough to say in confidence that you can help. You gave him permission to sell your bouquet, but even he admitted that it would only be enough to sustain the little girl for a short amount of time. Should you tell Lucifer? Would Mammon be okay with that?

“Not really the best time to ask advice from you, huh? Not when someone’s trying to kill you and all.”

You smiled a little in his clumsy attempts to comfort you. Shaking your head, you returned his hug with a squeeze. “I’ll help you figure something out at least.”

“You would?”

“Yeah! But there’s a catch!”

Mammon laughed and pinched your cheek at your attempts for negotiation. “Okay, fine. What’s the catch?”

With a closed-eyed smile, you placed a finger on your lips as you stated your conditions. “Ruri-chan’s birthday party would be livelier with you around. Won’t you reconsider attending, oh Great One?”

[ You have unlocked new chatrooms in MEMORIA 7. ]

💌Read Part 1

💌Read Part 2

💌continue to next scenario

💌 tag request: @krussyfed, @lilliansstuff , @cupsof-tea

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me fic #interactive fiction #obey me x reader #cyoa #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years ago

Text

//it’s a match. sakusa kiyoomi//

Warnings: n o n e

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: it’s been so damn long since i’ve written anything other than headcannons or inked eidjfakehf

“Atsumu, I am not making a Tinder profile.”

“Come on! We all have it, Omi.”

“Yeah, and you’re all still single.”

But no matter how much Sakusa objected, Atsumu just wouldn’t take the hint and wouldn’t give up until that dreaded little app was installed onto Sakusa’s phone and his profile was complete.

“So I just swipe?”

“Yeah. So what about them? Do you think they’re cute?”

“Not really.”

“Then swipe left. If you’re into them, swipe right,” Atsumu explained, watching Sakusa’s constant left swipes as each profile appeared on his screen. “You know, it’s not going to work if you don’t swipe right on anyone.”

“I haven’t liked any of them yet.”

“You just swiped left on that smokin’ hot blonde!”

“Did you see her kitchen in the back? It was disgusting.”

In his first thirty minutes of swiping, Sakusa only found one person that he deemed to be suitable for a right swipe and as soon as his finger slipped across the screen, those fateful words popped up on his screen. It’s a match!

“Message them!”

“What do I even say?”

“I don’t know. Just say hi.”

“Now I know why you’re still single.”

But it all led him to his current situation, the afternoon sun streaming in from the large bay window at the coffee shop you had suggested, constantly checking the time on his phone as if that would bring you through the door any faster. His cup of coffee sat in front of him untouched, sugar packets still sitting on the saucer waiting to be added. Every time the chime above the door made that soft twinkle that alerted the staff of a new customer, Sakusa would pull his eyes away from his phone, in hopes that his only Tinder match would walk through the door.

It was 3:02. You were now two minutes late and all Sakusa could do was slump down in his seat, wondering if he should message you to make sure that you were okay, to see if you were still coming. But, rather he just placed his phone back down on the table, choosing to stare out the window instead of watching the digits on his phone screen tick higher and higher with each passing minute.

“Excuse me?” It was already 3:07 when that voice tore him out of his mindless stupor, dark eyes turning to meet the person who had spoken. “Are you Sakusa?”

He simply nodded, watching your lips turn up into a smile as you breathed a short sigh of relief, sitting down in the chair across from him. “You’re Y/N?”

You nod simply, holding your hand out to shake his, but when the man makes no move to reach for your hand, choosing rather to just stare at it in disgust, you let it fall back to the table awkwardly. “I’m so sorry for running late. It’s been a mess of an afternoon. I had to run back to my apartment for a quick outfit change. I had snagged my sweater real bad and I-” A tiny laugh escapes you, eyes moving down towards the table. “Sorry. That doesn’t matter. It’s nice to finally meet you in person! Talking online has been great and all, but it’s really great to finally see you instead of your profile picture.” Sakusa stayed silent, only thinking to nod in answer, letting the quiet between you thicken the awkwardness between you with each passing moment, but you cleared your throat, hand tapping against the edge of the table as if that would suddenly evoke some sort of message from him. “So, your profile said that you liked volleyball? Do you play?”

He blinked at you a few times, almost shocked that you hadn’t been able to deduce the answer to that yourself. “Yeah. I play for a division 1 team here in Osaku.”

It was actually kind of cute, watching your eyes widen as you’re taken aback at the statement. Sakusa had caught himself smiling a little, watching you try to connect everything together in your head. “Wow. That’s- that’s really cool. I’ve never met a professional athlete before. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really even know that we had a men’s volleyball team here,” you say, laughing a little. “What’s it like? I mean, obviously you like it enough to keep playing, so how is it being a big time athlete? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

He sat back in his seat, fingers running over the rim of his coffee cup. “It doesn’t seem all that different from when I played in high school, if I’m being honest. I still play in tournaments with guys who know what they’re doing just as well as I do. But, now, it’s all volleyball. I don’t have to worry about anything besides school and showing up to stupid interviews when I’m asked. I guess that's the part I wasn’t really expecting. I didn’t think people would actually care about what I was doing as much as they did.”

“Yeah, that must be pretty weird to have people constantly up in your business. But, you get to travel a lot, right? Well, I would think anyway. I’m not sure how many teams we have in the city,” you say, nervous laughter creeping into the edges of your voice.

Kiyoomi watched as your shoulders relaxed as if someone had just lifted an entire city bus off of them. You finally sank back into your seat, no longer sitting with a straight back. The conversation had started to flow back and forth with ease, the first initial hurdle being cleared without much difficulty.

“Really? Him? I don’t know. He’s cute, sure, but his bio makes him seem kind of . . . scary. ‘Volleyball. 6’3. I don’t like most people.’ Come on, Y/N. Surely there were other matches that you could get coffee with.”

“I don’t know. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s tall.”

But, in truth, there weren’t any other matches that you wanted to get coffee with. During the time leading up to this date, all of the messages exchanged between the two of you, chatting about one other’s day, the notifications that let you know that you had a new message waiting were the only ones that you cared about. Each short little ding that came from your phone would make your heart speed up, forcing yourself to wait just a minute or two to read what he had sent so you didn’t appear too desperate and scare him off. Seeing him warm up to you, move past the awkward dry texts and into the exchanges where he would ask you how your day had been and make short quips that never failed to make you giggle as you clutched your phone to your chest, unable to help yourself as you slowly fell more and more in love with this man who you could only hope would like you just as much as you liked him.

It was quite the joke around the locker room too. Atsumu would tease about how attached Sakusa had become to his phone, that he took longer to get ready for practice because he would pause every few minutes to type out a reply to you. Each joking remark was always returned with an unamused stare and a simple, “You wanted me to do this. It’s not my fault that all of your matches leave you on read.”

But, Sakusa wouldn’t lie. He looked forward to your messages. He liked seeing your profile picture show up in his notification bar so he could quickly type out his reply, constantly fighting back his smile to avoid another round of teasing from his teammates. You had become one of the most prevalent things on his mind, even while he was on the court, he couldn’t stop thinking about what you could be doing, thinking about what you had said and how he was going to reply.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this interested in someone, Omi omi. What’s so special about ‘em, huh?”

“I don’t know. . . I just like them.”

He really couldn’t pin-point any specifics. It was really as easy as that. There was just something about you that drew him to you, wanting to keep talking to you, wanting to see you smile right in front of him, rather than looking at that stagnant photo from your profile. But, now, you were right in front of them, smiling and laughing more beautifully than he ever imagined that you would. Every time you covered your mouth with your hand when you would laugh at something he said, Sakusa could feel his whole body warming up, wanting to see you do that again, wanting to hear you laugh like that one more time.

It was the orange rays of the setting sun shining annoying into your eyes that pulled you both from your conversation. It had phones being reached for in an effort to check the time. 6:39 p.m. Sakusa’s untouched coffee had long fallen cold.

“I didn’t realize it was getting so late. I should probably get home before it gets dark,” you say, pocketing your phone. “I had a really good time, Sakusa.”

You start to get up out of your seat, but he speaks up, stopping you in your effort to go. “I could walk you home. If you want, of course.” He’s looking at you with almost expectant eyes, something starkly different from the bored expression that normally sat on his features. He’s unable to stop that small smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth as you nod your head, letting him help you into your jacket.

The shock must’ve been evident on your face when the man who had refused to shake your hand only three and a half hours ago, laced his fingers with yours. But there were no words exchanged, only shy smiles that left cheeks feeling warm. And surprising to him, Sakusa didn’t object when you stood up on your toes right in front of your apartment door to place a short kiss on his cheek.

“I’d like to do this again sometime, Sakusa.”

“Yeah. I think I would too.”

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @lovinnoya @kuronekomama}

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #x reader #imagines #fluff #please i forgot how to tag things #me at 6 am writing this absolute trainwreck #ahahaha this is fine #will the tumblr queue actually work today 👀#only time will tell

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vin-taege · 5 years ago

Text

low expectations | 3

summary: after disappearing for six years to pursue law, you come back to Seoul, only to be hired by Jeon Jungkook, tattoo artist on the rise, and your high school ex

genre: angst, eventual smut, l2e2l (lovers to enemies [kinda?] to lovers)

pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x lawyer!reader

words: 3k+

note: i am back

"Mmm holy shit, I missed bread," You stared at Taehyung, who was shamelessly stuffing croissant after croissant in his face. Jimin sipped his latte awkwardly. Jungkook was back in his usual reserved state, silent, though visibly disturbed by Taehyung's lack of table etiquette. The whole table was captivated by the tattoo artist's seemingly never ending appetite, and at this point, Jungkook began to regret letting him borrow his credit card. Namjoon was first to break the silence.

"So," he cleared his throat. "We came up with a list of possible suspects. The cocaine packet we found was already sent to a facility for DNA testing.”

"It's not exactly a list. More like one person," you got the case file out your bag. What back then was a thin folder filled with a singular page was now filled with paperclips and slightly dishevelled pages - the fruit of your research with Namjoon. You took the picture you printed out of the Gwangju rapper and put it beside a recent picture of Jung. "Don't these two conveniently look alike?"

Jungkook leaned in to get a closer look, eyes straining to grasp any familiar features he could pick up from the low quality print. Suddenly, Yoongi jolted up, snatching the picture from the table. "How did you get this?"

"You know him?"

"Yeah, it's Hoseok. He went under the name 'J-Hope' back then until he just disappeared."

Taehyung hacked back a cough, a huge chunk of bread lodging itself in his throat. Jimin thumped him worriedly on the back, waving the rest of you off to ignore them. You continued questioning Yoongi." Joon, write this down. Can you elaborate on that?"

"I went against him back then Gyeongsangnam."

"He sucked ass."

"No, I mean, what happened after? Did you notice anything interesting about him? Something out of place?"

"Oh, well... From what I recall, he does look awfully a lot like Minho. Almost the same person. It's weird because they have the same last name too."

Namjoon shared a wary look with you. "Changing identities is very common for people in the illegal drugs industry. I'll get someone from the firm to run a background check on him."

You nodded. "Anything else?"

"I remember the police coming to raid the place. You know how there are some underground rapping contests? Ours was really underground. No ads, only word of mouth. You have to know someone there to get in. So we knew someone must've fucked up real bad for the police to get involved."

That's why you couldn't find any musical records or history on him. Namjoon was typing away at his laptop, seemingly getting the same idea.

"To be fair, nothing we did was illegal. The competition, the prize money, all legal. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was they caught Hoseok possessing marijuana. They shut everything down and took him with them. Never seen him ever since."

Everyone went silent again - even Taehyung ceased his coughing. Namjoon finished typing, readjusting his glasses." What year did that happen?"

"Somewhere in 2013. I think it was in April?"

"You mean to say," Jimin spoke up. "This Hoseok guy coincidentally disappeared six months before Soliloqy opened?”

Your jaw dropped, Namjoon mirroring your shocked expression. The tattoo artists looked at you in confusion, not getting what the big fuss was about. You lightly backhanded Namjoon on the chest, “Our theory’s plausible.”

“What theory?” Jungkook cut in. He wasn’t too worried about the case at first, but now that there were mentions of underground drug deals, he felt a bigger threat lurking around in the shadows. He just wants to be left alone - doesn’t want to lose the shop he risked everything for.

“Hoseok and Minho are the same guy. We don’t have enough evidence to prove this, but we’ll continue to dig into it. The drugs, the blurry photos, Minho rarely seen outside and when he is, he’s always wearing a mask - these all scream fishy to me,” you paused to slide the pictures back into the folder, returning it into your bag.

Taehyung slurped noisily on his iced tea. “This is some Scoobydoo shit.” He tapped his fork on his plate, confused to be met with the clinking of silverware. Bread crumbs and smears of strawberry jam greeted him, making him pout. Tugging Jungkook’s sleeve, he pointed his fork at his empty plate. “I’m all out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He dug his credit card out his wallet for the nth time and placed it on Taehyung’s side. The older boy looked expectantly at him. “Well?”

“Can’t you buy it for me?”

“Oh my god-”

“I’ll buy it for you,” you smiled endearingly at Taehyung. He grinned back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jungkook stilled, an unreadable expression on his face. Without waiting for him to respond, you stood up, leaving the table and stood in line at the counter.

To your surprise, Jungkook followed after you, taking his place behind you in line. “You don’t have to. He’s already spent over 30 000 won on pastries, and it’s only been two hours.”

“Oh come on, you’re acting as if we weren’t close back in high school,” you froze, realizing how wrong your words might have sounded. Back then, you could read him like an open book. Knew exactly what would set him up, where his boundaries were. But now, it was like walking on eggshells around him.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “Maybe I should cut you some slack,” he said more to himself than to you.

"Yeah," you mimicked him. "Maybe you should."

"Seriously. I appreciate it. I appreciate you taking the case even after what happened between us back then," But the thing is, you didn't know it was him in the first place. It was unfair for him to think so highly of you. You knew you didn't deserve his kind words. Jungkook didn't change a bit - he was still shit at holding grudges.

°°°

6 years ago

"Where are you?" Jungkook sobbed into the phone. Taehyung peered at him worriedly from the living room. The walls of his small dorm were thin, and Jungkook's side of the conversation was enough for him to piece together what you two were arguing about. "You promised."

"Tell her I'll come with you," he said, after a minute of silence. "I'll even work for her. I'll take the job offer she gave me. Please don't leave me."

He was so close to tearing his hair out. It's been a week since he last talked to you - you've been ignoring his calls and texts, Taehyung didn't know where you were, or if he did, he wasn't telling, and even your father hadn't been responding to him. And now you finally emerge from wherever the hell you've hidden in, telling him you were set to go to college in the States.

"The job offer's gone, Kook. You're too late. My mom already booked the ticket, paid for my tuition. I can't turn back now," You were packing your bags back in Daegu. Taehyung's family was nice enough to let you stay for a few days until you were ready to go. Taehyung, along with your father, had explained your situation to them, and they were more than willing to help - though hesitant at first since they were also close to Jungkook.

"Why are you hiding from me? Just tell me where you are. At least talk to me properly, please ___," He kept walking in circles around the room, thinking of anything he could do. He felt so utterly helpless, sick to his stomach. "Please."

"At least tell me where you are!" He shouted into the phone. His mind was in a frenzy. Taking his wallet, he paid Taehyung no attention and ran out of the apartment, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans to protect him from the cold.

Taehyung ran after him, stopping him just before he could get into the subway. His phone was still in his hands, though you had already stopped talking on the other line. You brought the phone speaker away from your mouth, trying your best to muffle your sobs. He was still on the other and, yelling, pleading, begging to know where you were. At the back of your mind, your mother's words still echoed.

"You have no future with him, ___. He has nothing. No proper ambitions, no practicality, no sense of reality. He is weighing you down. If he wants to waste his potential, then that's on him. But he is not going to do the same to my daughter."

Taehyung was holding him back, trying to convince him to go back to his dorm. In the end, he dragged Jungkook back into the warmth of his room. The call was still ongoing, both ends of the line going silent until you finally ended it - along with your two-year relationship.

°°°

"So we're friends again?" you gave him a lopsided grin, offering your hand out to him. Guilt squeezed your heart.

"Yeah," he looked away for a moment, pretending to be interested in the menu. He brought his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, before murmuring. "I missed you, ___."

When you came back, Taehyung kept staring at you, a suggestive smile on his face. You brushed him off, praying Jungkook didn't notice it too. The older boy traded - rather, forced to trade - seats with Namjoon, in favor of sitting next to you. A fresh plate of pastries sat in front of him, though his interest was on you alone.

"I see you and Jungkookie are finally getting along," he whispered the moment Jungkook was distracted by Namjoon's relentless questioning.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. "We're back to being friends. I'm just glad things aren't that awkward anymore."

"Took you a while to get off your high horse," he muttered, though his tone was playful. You still didn't get how he seemingly manages to brush everything under the rug.

°°°

6 years ago

"___, you're hurting him," Taehyung hissed, keeping his voice low to not wake Jungkook up. He took a cautious glance around the place, sensing the younger boy was still asleep. "I didn't sign up for this. You told me you were only going away for four years. Why the fuck aren't you coming back?"

"I will come back," It was midnight. You were supposed to be sleeping. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the Kims' strawberry farm. Everything reminded you of Jungkook - his love for strawberries, his fascination with nature. Above you, the moon gazed upon the earth, accompanied by millions of blinking stars. And somewhere under that same moon, was the boyfriend you neglected.

"I just need a few years. Law school is not that easy, Tae. And I just can't go straight back there after I graduate. I need to work, I need to at least make a name for myself."

"I understand you don't want to disappoint your parents. I really do. What did you think I felt knowing my brother and my sister were aiming to be an engineer and a doctor, while I was going to take on a fucking arts course?" he took a deep breathe, forcing himself to calm down. "I know Jungkook doesn't have the most conventional dream out there, but at least explain everything to him. I can't see him hurting anymore."

"I did explain everything. "

"Telling him you were going abroad after ignoring him for one whole week isn't explaining, ___!"

"He won't understand! I'm only going to hurt him more," you ran a hand through your hair, the knotted mess getting pushed back. "I'll call him again by the time I'm in America."

"You better. I know I helped you because you were my friend, but he's my friend too. He's my best friend. And let me tell you, he is feeling depressed, ___. Your boyfriend is hurting because of you. At least be aware of that," Without another word, Taehyung ended the call.

You stared at the endless fields of strawberries and trees in front of you. Some of the leaves were already starting to brown in preparation for autumn. Not that you'll still be in Korea by the time it comes.

°°°

"So, what made you change your mind about her?” Taehyung was hunched over the arcade game, eyes stuck on whichever character he was beating to a pulp. The three of them were closing up shop. Jimin was still tidying up the customer lounge, while Jungkook and Taehyung waited for him in the employee room. Jungkook was on the other side, concentrating on designing a tattoo commission.

“What do you mean?” he didn’t spare the older boy a glance. He was getting frustrated with this particular design. He had already gone through half a stack of paper just trying to get it right, and none of the sketches he has done so far looked right.

“I mean-” he paused, letting out a grunt when he lost a round. “The first time you saw her again, you wouldn’t even talk to her. And before that, you wouldn’t even talk about her.”

“She’s our lawyer now. Of course I have to talk to her.”

“No, what I’m saying is- ah shit!” he slammed his hand onto the side of the machine. “Why the fuck won’t I jump? What the fuck?!”

“As I was saying,” he continued after putting in another token. “Yeah, she’s our lawyer and we have to be cooperative for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, you were different at the cafe. First of all, you bought me some food - which you never do.”

“Rarely do,” Jungkook corrected, pencil continuing to scrape on the paper.

“Same thing. And you were giving her all these soft looks. Like a puppy or something.”

“I was?” Jungkook’s eyes widened, abruptly halting his sketching process. Taehyung had his full attention now. “Was I really, Tae? Honestly? If I was, do you think she noticed?”

“Maybe. I dunno. She looked really focused on the evidence folder and shit. But yeah, anyone could tell you missed her just by seeing the way you look at her. It’s kinda like the way you used to look at her back when you two were...” Taehyung never finished the sentence. Instead, the sound effects from the arcade game filled the room. Taehyung knew just how far he could touch that area, and not once did he cross the line; he still didn’t know if it was safe or not.

“You can’t keep hating her forever.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Well then, you can’t keep holding a grudge against her. I know what she did to you was utterly hurtful. I was there to witness shit hitting the fan. But you know, you’re bad at holding grudges. Especially against someone who was a big part of your life. I’m not saying you still love her. I’m just saying, you can’t...” After what felt like an eternity, Taehyng pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “You can’t pretend like you’re not getting affected by any of this. You get me?”

The older boy sighed, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist to stop him from sketching. “If you stopped living in total denial, you would realize that you’ve stopped designing the tattoo, and instead, have been sketching her for the past 15 minutes.”

Jungkook straightened up in his chair, getting a better look at the paper. There, in fact, was a messy, but distinguishable sketch of your face. Before he could react, a brown paper bag was plopped onto the papers.

“I re-heated some grilled cheese and double-locked the back door. We’re good to go,” Jimin leaned one of the chairs next to Jungkook. He bunched up the papers and shoved them into his bag before Jimin could see.

“We’re good to go,” he repeated.

The night was cold. There were only a few people in the streets, illuminated by the scattered lamp lights. The streets were damp - they didn’t even notice it rained. They walked in silence, both boys sensing the younger one’s dread. Not because he hated you, but because he didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“It’s gonna be okay kid,” Jimin wrapped an inked arm around him. “You just need some closure, that’s all. Talk to her and see how it goes. If it turns out good, then it’s good. If it turns out bad, I have a friend over at the Naughty Bunny who can get us inside without having to wait in line.”

Jungkook chuckled, thinking about all the times Jimin came to work with a pounding headache and love bites all over his neck. He shook his head, “Thanks for the offer hyung, but I have to pass. ___ might call for an emergency meeting and-”

He stopped abruptly, making the boys halt. Taehyung made a move to speak, but Jungkook waved him off, signalling for him to keep quiet. The older boys looked at each other in confusion. In the distance, just beneath the shadows of an alley next to Soliloquy, a tall figure hunched in front of the brick wall, fumbling with something in his hands. It was too dark to see, but Jungkook was sure it was him.

Without warning, he bolted towards the man, Jimin and Taehyung running after him. The figure took a second before noticing him, but by the time he went to run, he was already cornered. Jungkook grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

“Yah! Don’t run off like that you brat!” Jimin started scolding him. He didn’t even notice Taehyung tugging on his sleeve, muttering his name.

“Hyung. Hyung. Jimin. Jimin hyung. Jiminie.”

“What?” he asked, annoyed. Taehyung pointed at the boy in Jungkook’s hands, his eyes terrified, pupils blown out in such a way he knew he wasn’t sober. His hand hung limply, sluggishly trying to get Jungkook off him. There was the man himself - their greatest rival. “Son of a bitch-”

“Yah, Jung Minho, ” Jungkook said. “We have to talk.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bangtan scenarios #bts au

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

Text

Dreamcatchers 5

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 3.7k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | A/N: found a lovely group of people at bsh and their enthusiasm is infectious enough to get me to write a lot more than i had originally planned. reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing! additional note: the timeline at the end of the post is what i imagine yuri and jeongguk were constructing on the station’s white board in the last scene.

20th December

Seokjin was inside his bakery, getting ready to open in a little bit, when frantic knocking interrupted him. Checking his watch, he saw that it was 6.52 am, which meant that he had 8 minutes until opening. While people in this town were known to wake up at the crack of dawn, he had never had anyone knocking at his door before opening time. A second set of knocks - much louder this time - made him rush over to the front door.

"They've arrested Jimin on suspicion of murder."

Taehyung stood there looking more lost than he had ever seen him. Even more than when he had found Seokjin months after the latter had left home. Even more than when he had been given the responsibility of taking over the company. Taehyung, who struggled to wake up in time for 10 am meetings, was wide awake before the clock struck 7 and looked like he hadn't slept a wink the previous night.

"Did you run all the way here?" Seokjin asked. Taehyung's hair looked windswept and beads of perspiration lined his forehead despite it being the middle of winter.

"Why've they arrested him? He would never do something like that!"

"Come inside first. You'll catch a cold if you stay outside like this."

Once inside, Taehyung didn't look any less perturbed - his expressive eyes glistening with many different emotions. Seokjin brought out a cup of hot chocolate and a red bean bun, sitting down opposite his younger brother.

"Now, tell me what's going on."

"Jimin was arrested last night on suspicion of murder."

"Murder? You mean Eunwoo? They think Jimin had something to do with Eunwoo's death?"

Taehyung nodded his head, the initial rush of adrenaline having worn off, leaving him looking significantly more worn out.

"Do you know why? How did you even find out? Did Jimin tell you?"

"No. Ahreum did." Taehyung rubbed his face with his hands, trying to rid himself of the terrifying thoughts rushing through his mind. "She was there when Yuri - that's her friend who's also Jeongguk's new partner - made the call. There must be some mistake!"

Seokjin bit his lip worriedly. While Jimin had been Taehyung's best friend since they were little, there was no doubt that the former led a very wild life involving many questionable escapades. He didn't know much about Yuri, but there was no doubt in his mind that Jeongguk was a very competent detective who knew what he was doing.

"I don't know what I should do." Taehyung's voice, jolted him out of his thoughts. "I should go down to the station, shouldn't I? Jimin probably needs someone there with him. What about getting a lawyer? Should we ask Namjoon? I-"

"Slow down, Taehyung," Seokjin said, patting his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure Jimin's gotten a lawyer himself. His family has a lot of resources. But if you want, you can drop by the station in case he needs something."

"Y-yeah, I should do that. I'll go right now. I- Shit!" Taehyung patted his coat pockets frantically. "I can't find my car keys!"

"You didn't drive here," reminded Seokjin, gently. "Do you want me to drive you there?"

The bell hanging above the front door jingled softly at that moment, signalling Seokjin's first customer of the day.

"No, you shouldn’t leave your bakery. It would be bad for business." Taehyung shook his head, the helpless look in his eyes not leaving him despite his conviction to leave his brother out of this.

"Why don't you ask Ahreum if she can give you a lift? Isn't she usually up by this time?"

"You're right! I'll do that!"

Seokjin busied himself with the customer who had just come in, his eyes wandering towards his brother ever so often. Ahreum picked him up 15 minutes later, but Seokjin couldn't shake off the worried feeling he had gotten after seeing Taehyung so frantic and helpless.

...

Yuri had reached the station at 6 that morning. She hadn't slept last night, going through every inch of evidence and every statement they had taken related to Kang Eunwoo's murder. Her stomach had dropped when she had read the email from Seulgi last night. It wasn't that she was convinced that Jimin was a saint who had nothing to do with this, but the fact that he had finally decided to give a blood sample suggested either that he was innocent, or that he was guilty but somehow knew that he would be able to escape the charges. Both options did not bode well with her.

Jeon arrived around half past 6, the bags under his eyes suggesting that he had also had a sleepless night. He didn't say anything, just heading straight for his desk and pouring over a set of files like he had a final exam he was cramming for.

Chief Inspector Goh had spoken to both of them on a conference call last night once news of Jimin's arrest had been confirmed.

"Are we completely sure about this?" His voice hoarse, indicating that the call had disturbed his slumber.

"Yes, sir," Yuri replied, not waiting for her partner to chip in. She was the one who had received the email from Seulgi, she had been the one to convince Jimin for a blood sample - this was her line of inquiry. Which made her all the more nervous.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you that the Parks are difficult customers. Young Mr. Park does not have a criminal record despite his many infractions over the years."

"We are aware, sir." Jeon answered this time, being more familiar with the social landscape than Yuri. "Everything will be carried out according to proper procedure."

"Good. Be prepared to deal with lawyers as well. I have a suspicion that that bastard Song will be representing the Park boy tomorrow. Jeongguk, I'm sure you're aware of his reputation and the kinds of clients he usually represents."

Yuri did not know about this particular lawyer, but made a note to look up his previous cases to get an understanding of what they were up against. She had no doubt that Jeon would be as unhelpful as he had been since she had first arrived.

"You can't start the interview before 8 am, but given that he was arrested just before midnight, we will have lost 8 precious hours out of the total 48 before we have to either charge him or release him on bail. Be clear, be smart, and do not allow anyone to string you along."

"Yes, sir." They both replied, before ending the call.

"Do you want to go over the interview strategy?"

Jeon's words took Yuri by surprise. She had been expecting a cold shoulder at best, and unfiltered hostility at worst.

"Y-yeah sure," she replied, turning her chair around to find that he had moved over to her side of the cubicle already.

"I think we should lead with the blood match," he continued, frowning at a sheet of paper. "What do you think?"

"While that is the most efficient way to approach it," said Yuri, pausing to organize her thoughts. "We could also press him to provide us with an alibi."

"Why'd you think that?"

Yuri tapped her fingers on the table, wondering how far she should try and explain her idea to Jeon. "I just... He was very uncooperative about providing an alibi last time. But then he came down and voluntarily gave a blood sample, which has put him in a much worse position than not providing an alibi. I don't know why he would refuse the low risk option in favor of the high risk one."

Jeon scoffed. "Well you clearly don't know Jimin then."

"Well obviously not like you lot do," she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, leaning against the divider. "Your confusion is completely valid, but this behavior is very much in character for Jimin."

"How'd you mean?"

"He's a loose canon. He has no regard for authority - half of what he does is to piss off people in power or positions of authority. Jimin's always been like that as far as I can remember. But-" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly - "this is much more serious. This is murder."

Yuri pressed her lips together, wondering how difficult the interview was going to be.

8 am

"You are aware that you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Kang Eunwoo on 16th December."

Park Jimin looked very different from the previous few times Yuri had met him. His silver hair was devoid of any gel, making him look drastically younger. He was not wearing expensive lounge wear like he had been during the previous interview. The only thing that remained unchanged was the emotionless look in his cold grey eyes.

His lawyer, on the other hand, looked quite cheerful - smug even. As if he knew in advance that his client would get off without any charges no matter how serious the offense.

"When you were here a couple of days ago, we asked you where you were on the night of December 15th. And you did not provide us with an answer." Yuri paused, trying in vain to discern something from Jimin's expression. "So let me ask you again - where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

"I must impress upon you the importance of this matter. You are the prime suspect in the murder of a rival family's heir. If you do not provide an alibi, we will be forced to assume that you do not have one."

Silence.

"Your blood was found on the victim's clothes." Jeon took over, moving along to the main line of inquiry. "What can you tell us about that?"

"No comment."

"The victim's father says that you visited their house on the night that the victim was murdered. What do you have to say about that?"

"No comment."

This was not going any better than the previous interview. In fact, Yuri thought this one was much worse. Even though they should have had the upper hand, Jimin's unperturbed, stoic expression indicated otherwise. The blood on the sleeve was enough to charge him, but with the Park family's resources there was always a chance that Jimin would be able to get off in court. Which was why they needed to build a stronger case against him.

Jeon continued persisting with the questions, receiving an emotionless "no comment" every time. The lawyer looked rather relaxed, and Yuri tried her best to avoid looking at him. Instead, she focused on Jimin. Everything about him was unreadable - his eyes, his body language, his face, his tone of voice. Despite his more casual appearance this time around, his fingers were still adorned with multiple rings. Her eyes lingered briefly on his hands, absentmindedly counting the number of rings when something struck her.

Jeon had paused to look through his notes, and Yuri took this opportunity to dive in.

"Mr. Park," she began, placing a hand on Jeon's knee to stop him from interrupting her. "I noticed that you always wear a lot of rings on your fingers."

"As far as I can remember, DI Choi," said Jimin's lawyer. "Wearing a lot of rings is not a criminal offense."

"And I commend you on your immaculate memory," she replied, dryly. "Getting back to what I was saying, you wear a lot of rings. Are they supposed to be a fashion statement? Or do they have some greater significance?"

Jimin's expression flickered for the briefest of moments.

"For example," she continued, indicating the ring on the little finger of his left hand. "That's an unusual design - quite old-fashioned compared to the rest of your rings. Is there anything special about that ring?"

"I don't understand how this is relev-"

"Then why don't you let your client answer himself."

For the first time since the interview had begun, Jimin's posture changed slightly. "That ring belonged to my mother."

"I see... that must hold a lot of emotions for you." Yuri removed her hand from Jeon's thigh, indicating that he could continue. He didn't say anything to her, preferring to hold eye-contact for a few meaningful seconds

"I'm going to ask you one last time," he said, taking over once again. "Where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

...

"What was that about?" asked Jeon, once they were out of the interview room.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he sighed in exasperation. "The ring, Choi."

"Just wanted to bring down his guard a bit," she shrugged.

He looked unconvinced, but dropped it seeing as they had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. Shaking his head, he went into Goh's room to update him on the outcome of the interview.

Making sure that the door to the Chief Inspector's room had been shut completely, Yuri switched on her laptop and pulled up every bit of information she had on Jimin. Even though she had gone over it less than 2 days ago, there were some things she needed to confirm. If what she thought was even remotely possible, they had been looking at things wrong the entire time.

"Hello? Telecoms Division? This DI Choi Yuri, badge number XXXX. I wanted to check whether this phone number is currently being used in Korea. Yes, I'll hold."

She tapped her fingers on the desk nervously, hoping she could get the information before Jeon came back. While it was true that he hadn't been openly hostile with her over the past 24 hours or so, she didn't want to risk pissing him off without something concrete.

"Yes, I'm still here," she breathed a sigh of relief when the person on the other end of the line took her off hold. "Really? Okay. And can you tell me if the number was being used overseas at any point in the past 2 months? I see... Would it be possible to send this to my official email? Great! Thank you very much for your help."

A couple of minutes later, Yuri's laptop pinged, indicating a new email. She read through everything carefully- once, twice, making sure she had gotten everything down accurately.

Fuck...

"Going somewhere?" Chief Inspector Goh walked out of his office to see Yuri putting on her coat and packing her bag.

"I- uh- yes."

"There's a lot of paperwork that has to be done, I'm afraid," he continued, checking messages on his phone. "You and Jeongguk will probably need to be here well past usual hours."

"Of course, sir." Yuri shrugged off her coat and sat down with a sigh.

6 pm

Seven hours. It had been seven hours since Yuri and Jeon had begun working their way through the piles of paperwork Goh had instructed them to finish.

"I'm hungry." Jeon stretched his arms above his head, yawning with his entire being. "Do you wanna get some takeout?"

"What?" Yuri looked up from the page she had been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyes were glazing over with exhaustion.

"Food. Dinner. Sustenance."

"Y-yeah," Yuri blinked her eyes rapidly. "Sorry what were you saying?"

"You know what? Never mind. I'm just ordering a bunch of things- " He unlocked his phone and began typing away furiously. "Eat whatever you like from there."

Yuri gazed at him for a few moments, trying to reorient herself with the three dimensional world. She noticed that he was sitting on the swivel chair with his feet tucked beneath him - something oddly endearing which didn't really fit her image of him.

"I like dumplings," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Jeon smirked but didn't say anything.

Half an hour later, a dozen or so takeout containers lay open in front of them - occupying more of Yuri's desk than Jeon's, much to her annoyance. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, slurping the hot noodles rather noisily.

Yuri threw him a quick glare and reached over to pick up a couple of fried chicken pieces.

"So why'd you ask Jimin about the ring?"

"I see you haven't forgotten about that," Yuri rolled her eyes, biting into the juicy meat.

"It was too specific to be a random thought," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me or...?"

"I don't know if I can trust you, Jeon," she replied, simply.

"W-what?" he spluttered on the noodles, gulping some water to stop choking. "I'm your partner! Why can't you trust me?"

"I don't know..." Yuri tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is it because you only glared at me on my first day? Or is it because you haven't greeted me civilly even once since I joined? Ooh, I know! Maybe its all of these combined with the fact that you've been an uncooperative bastard since I got here."

Jeon stared at her guiltily, his eyes widening considerably - giving him an expression akin to a deer caught in the headlights. "You're right. I apologize for that."

"Against my better judgment, I'll accept your apology. But you have Yoongi to thank for that."

Jeon smiled into his noodles at the mention of Yoongi.

"You also have Yoongi to thank for what I did yesterday," she continued, setting down the empty container. "I nicked your 2nd Nov case file and went through it."

"You what? When?!"

Yuri waved her hand dismissively. "Details. Unimportant. Yoongi suggested I should and I did. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Anything else of mine you've nicked in the 5 days that you've been here?" grumbled Jeon, but there was no real bitterness in his tone.

Ignoring his comment, she pulled out her phone from the charging socket. "The reason I asked Jimin about his rings, is this -" she scrolled up to a particular picture and passed the phone over to him - "The ring found at the 2nd Nov crime scene is identical to the one Jimin wears on his left little finger."

"Are you sure...?" Jeon asked, raising an eyebrow uncertainly. "Even if it is, what's to say there aren't hundreds of other identical rings belonging to people across the country?"

"I did think that initially," Yuri took her phone back, and pulled up another image. "Which is why I asked Jimin about it during the interview. He said that it belonged to his mother. I'm sure you know this much better than I do but the late Mrs. Park came from a very old, distinguished family. That ring that Jimin was wearing is a family heirloom - from his mother's side. Here's an article that covered heirlooms of famous families in Korea, and it mentions the Park family."

Jeon took the phone from her, a frown forming on his face. The article was dated around 3 years ago.

"According to the article, there were three rings in total. One that belonged to Mrs. Park - which was buried with her after her death - and two others belonging to Jimin and his older brother Minhyuk. Not just that, there's a picture of Jimin and Minhyuk in the article, where they're both wearing the rings."

"Shit... You're right." Jeon pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "During the investigation, we just assumed that the ring belonged to the victim and had slipped off her finger during the struggle."

"Three rings," said Yuri. "One that has presumably been buried in a grave for over 10 years. One that was definitely on Jimin's finger today. And one that was found at the 2nd Nov crime scene."

"Minhyuk? You think he had something to do with it?" asked Jeon, sharply. "It was pretty clear that the drunk and homeless father of her child had stabbed her."

"Hear me out," she continued, opening her laptop this time. The food lay forgotten at this point. "I went through what we know about the victim - paints a pretty tragic picture. Although it wasn't always like that for her. She worked for a few years, saved up enough money before enrolling into a professional degree program at Busan National University."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Her time at Busan National University coincided with Park Minhyuk's Masters program."

"What?"

"Yeah, but," she continued, finding the university website. "She dropped out after less than a year because her father passed away, leaving behind a huge pile of debt. We know that her mother had passed away when she was about 10. Now if you look at her daughter's birth certificate, it would appear that she got pregnant while she was still enrolled at the university."

"Are you saying the baby was his?! There's a pretty big stretch from attended university at the same time to father of her child."

"Let me finish, would you?" she groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Fine, go ahead."

"In order to see if they were acquainted with one another, I resorted to the most informative source available - social media. Our victim didn't have much of a social media presence, but I scrolled through anything and everything Park Minhyuk has been tagged in. And guess what I found?"

Jeon stopped eating, and moved closer to the screen to see a picture of a few university students having a picnic together. It was dated January 2016, and two of the people in the picture were recognizable immediately.

"Holy shit! They did know each other! And quite well apparently." Jeon wheeled his chair forward, bumping into her chair in the process. "Shit, sorry."

Yuri rolled her eyes and moved out of his way. She had no desire to get slammed into again.

"Since I'm not part of the original investigation, I thought of checking whether Park Minhyuk was in the country around the time of the stabbing with a different excuse. I called the company, asking if he was available to chat about Jimin. They said he's abroad at the moment. Has been since October, apparently. But- " she rummaged through the papers on her desk before finding the post-it she had hurriedly scribbled on a few hours ago - "Telecoms did an analysis and found that his cell phone has been operating in Korea for a while now. So...?"

"Either someone else has gotten a hold of Park Minhyuk's cell phone," said Jeon, frowning thoughtfully. "Or the Parks are knee-deep in murder and perjury."

XXX

a/n: sorry there was such a huge delay between chapters. i was writing out some of the chapters beforehand so that there wouldn’t be too many plot inconsistencies.

#c me write bangtan #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook #hoseok #yoongi #namjoon #taehyung #seokjin #btsbookclub #bts fic

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itisannak · 5 years ago

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Missing Out (Calum Hood Smut)

Summary: Fans make (Y/N) feel insecure, so Calum steps in to comfort her. (Smut / Merely Unprotected Sex / First Time Sex) (T.W: Online Hate) (Request) (Words: 5.3k)

"You are still coming over tomorrow night, right?" Calum asks as he parks in front of my apartment block, turning to look at me. "Of course. 6 months is not a small deal..." I reply, smiling at him. "And you are still spending the night over, right?" He asks again, looking at me anxiously. "Yes, Cal... But you should really relax... Even I am not so anxious about tomorrow." I reply, taking his hand in mine. "I just want it to be special. I want you to have fun and be comfortable." He mumbles, pouting his bottom lip. "Baby, that is so sweet of you. But really, I am ready. You don't have to worry about it." I assure him, leaning in to kiss his lips. "Still, I want to give you something romantic, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders before I lean my head against it. "I thought you didn't believe in romance..." "I don't. So, don't expect anything typical... I am going to do it my way..." He replies, turning his head to press a kiss on the tip of my nose. "Wouldn't want it any other way, baby. I have to go, early call in the morning. Text me when you make it back home, ok?" I press a kiss on the side of his neck, earning a hum from him. "I'll see your pretty face tomorrow." He states, cupping my chin before he kisses me tenderly. "I will see your pretty face tomorrow." I poke on his chest, smiling at him as I take one last whiff of his cologne.

I hesitantly exited the car; Calum and I have the prettiest conversations when he is dropping me off, even when there is nothing particular to talk about. I always crave more conversation with Calum when I leave, and this didn't change tonight. Laying in bed tonight, my mind rushed to imagine how tomorrow night will be; Calum and I have not slept together yet. Well, we have napped and dozed off in the same bed, cuddled, we have slept the night in the same bed, multiple times, but we have never actually had sex before. And neither have I ever had sex with anyone else before. Calum was just a little surprised when I told him, knowing that I had been in relationships before. But he has never pressured me, he has never taken things further than I was comfortable with. He always told me that we would only go on when I would be ready, and only then. And he has kept his word, respected the boundaries until the point I have had enough of keeping myself back from doing it, I have gotten too tired of resisting him. So, I suggested spending the night with him on our anniversary; in the beginning, he didn't get what I was implying, only getting a hint of it when I asked if we could be alone in the house that night. And he has been excited ever since, almost running laps around me like a puppy. I can tell he has been waiting for that moment for a long time, and I honestly don't know how he has kept his cool around me for so long; there have been one too many times that making out almost turned into more, but he was always the one to stop us before we would go forward. But those moments always made me crave him more and more, picturing him and the moment we would finally have sex. Honest to God, he is so kind and loving, in addition to being the sexiest man alive, that I have been having a hard time not picturing him hovering over me, thrusting inside me with his face all red and jaw tensed. He makes me feel like the most gorgeous woman to have grazed this planet, constantly reminding me how beautiful I am, words and actions for evidence, which really helps me drown the little voice in my head that tells me I am not enough, and all the criticism from his fan base that comes with dating Calum. Well, usually helps me drown it...

(Calum's POV) "I want you on your best behavior, mister... This is a very special day, and I want you to be my good little boy. Ok, Duke?" I coo as I pet the dog, who looks at me, wagging his tail. I chuckle at how pathetic I sound, taking out my anxiety on the poor pup. But I really just want (Y/N) to have the best experience or at least the closest to best it can get. I have never felt so anxious about having sex before, I mean, it is just sex, it's one of the things that should supposedly take any stress away. But this is the first time for (Y/N) and the one thing I absolutely don't want is for me to be imprinted in her mind as the guy that gave her the lousiest first time. My phone ringing makes me put the puppy down and pick it up, finding (Y/N)'s name light on the screen. "Hey, pretty girl. Do you need me to come pick you up?" I ask her before she could even say hi. "Hey, baby. I don't feel so good today. My stomach is all fucked up... I don't think I can make it..." She sounds weak, groaning a little at the end. "Oh, no baby. Did you go to the doctor? Want me to take you to a hospital?" I ask, my stomach tightening at the thought of her being sick. "No. I mean, it's probably something I ate. I am sorry for tonight, baby. I really have been waiting for tonight for so long." She mumbles but I chuckle softly. "We can celebrate in a few days, don't worry about it. Want me to come over and take care of you, baby?" I ask her, plopping on the couch. "No, I got this." "Ok, love. Call me if you need anything, no matter what time it is." I sigh and she hums. "I will. Thank you, babe." She replies before hanging up.

"Guess you don't need to be so behaved anymore, Duke... The pretty girl is sick..." I sigh, biting my cheek. "Maybe she got anxious about tonight and got sick... Or maybe she really ate something that bugged her stomach. Or maybe she has the stomach flu..." I list at the dog who lays his head on my lap. "Maybe she really needs help and she is too proud to ask for it... You know her, she doesn't want to be a burden to anyone... Maybe we should just head over, make her some tea, or some soup. And you should go cuddle with her, she really loves how squishy you are." I mumble, staring at the dog for a sign. He licks his nose, tilting his little head to the side. "Maybe bring her some flowers. You know, it is still our anniversary, even if she is sick..." I state, standing up and picking Duke along, grabbing my phone and jacket on the way out.

(3rd Person's POV)

(Y/N) cannot stop staring at her phone, with eyes glazed by her tears. Her mind cannot really fathom how people could express such negativity for someone they have never actually met. When she called Calum this evening to cancel their plans, she truly felt sick. She has been reading all the hate comments, every tweet and post about her, targeted toward her body, her hair, her face, she has been in this rabbit hole for at least the past 10 hours, every hate word punching her in the gut. She knows she doesn't deserve Calum, deep down inside she knew he can do so much better. But she also knows he loves her, truly loves her, even though Calum had infamously said he doesn't believe in love, she knows that of all the feelings that exist, love is the one Calum has for her.

For (Y/N), all of this is crazy; how can someone who claims that they love Calum, attack someone that actually makes him happy?

Calum picks up the take-out miso soup from the back seat while also carrying Duke with one arm. The puppy looks at him, wagging his tail happily as they walk to (Y/N)'s apartment. Both of them seem utterly excited to see her, even though she is sick; all that Calum wants is to spend their anniversary together. He lets the dog on his paws as he knocks on (Y/N) door, motioning the furball to sit by him, which of course Duke ignores and starts scratching on her door.

The last thing (Y/N) wants is visitors. She really wishes for some peace and quiet, let herself wallow in self-pity. But the knock on her door signifies that her plan is not really going to be executed. She thinks that if she just lay on her couch and just be quiet, whoever it is behind the door will leave, giving her the quietness she needs. "Baby, open up..." She hears Calum call from the other side of the door, making her heart hurt at the knowledge of his presence.

He knows she is inside, that she is sick and that she is not anywhere else but here, and she knows he has keys for her apartment, given to him in case of an emergency, and that this whole situation in Calum's books is an emergency.

So, she decides to slowly make her way to the door, peep through the little peephole at the top of the door, only to find Calum and Duke waiting for her to open up, her boyfriend holding a paper bag from the Korean place they usually order food from. "Cal? What are you doing here?" She asks, opening the door just a bit and lodging herself between. Calum smiles at her, holding the paper bag up with pride. "Duke was worried. And I wanted to bring you some food and spend some time with you..." He explains, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on her forehead. Thank God she doesn't have a fever, he thought as he pulled away. "It's very sweet of you. But I don't think I will be a great company right now..." She felt her stomach drop; he really is the sweetest boyfriend ever, and she hates that she has to turn him away, especially tonight. "You are always the greatest company there is. Can we come in?" He asks, pointing to the pup who whimpers for attention.

(Y/N) gives up, unable to think of other excuses to not let Calum stay. So, she moves from the door, allowing her boyfriend and the cutest dog alive to walk in. "You sit down and I will pour your soup in a bowl." Calum offers, pushing his girlfriend softly to sit on her couch. His dog jumps on top of her lap immediately, licking her face as she strokes behind his ears. "I really don't want to eat." (Y/N) tries to stop him but Calum brushes her off, walking to the kitchen. She sighs at how stubborn he can be. Calum pours her soup and grabs a spoon from the drawer, walking back to her with a smile. But the smile drops as he takes a better look at her face, finding her eyes puffy and red as she sniffles while petting Duke. "Babe, have you been crying?" He asks her, eyebrows furrowed as he leaves the bowl on the coffee table and takes a seat on the couch. (Y/N)'s heart quickens, and her brain shuts down, totally abandoning her now that she needs to come up with a lie. "Um... My stomach is hurting really bad..." She stutters but realizes she has fucked up the moment Calum springs up. "Get up, we are going to the hospital..." He sounds serious, looking truly worried. And he is, the worst-case scenarios running through his mind. "There is no need. I am sure I will get better..." She tries to assure him, but Calum can read through her, he can recognize she is lying. "No, get up..." He insists, looking at her sternly. "Calum..." (Y/N) protests, sighing as she gets desperate for him to stop pushing her. "(Y/N), you told me you are sick, and now you are telling me your stomach hurts... This could be more than just the flu..." He explains, almost begging her for him to take her to a hospital.

(Y/N) stares at the floor, fingers fidgeting as she feels horrible for lying to him. "(Y/N), look at me..." Calum orders, tilting her chin up to make her look him in the eye. (Y/N) averts her gaze, her bottom lip quivering as she feels about to break down at his inquisition. Calum's heart sinks, realizing that all of this was just a lie. "Did you lie to me?" He sounds heartbroken, making her feel really sick to her stomach. "If this is all made up to avoid spending the night with me, you could have just told me. I have never pushed you about sex, when I said I would wait for you until you are ready, I meant it. We don't even have to ever have sex if you don't feel like it, but you really shouldn't have lied to me. I was worried about you actually being sick..." Calum snaps, his voice getting louder than he intended. "It's not that..." (Y/N) stutters, already feeling her eyes brim with tears. "It's not that... Then what the fuck it is? Tell me..." Calum commands, pushing (Y/N)'s guilt to give him an insight into what is going on.

She reaches for her phone, unlocking it and handing it to Calum, showing him that she has been looking at, almost since the moment he dropped her off last night. "What's that?" He asks, confused at her actions. "Scroll and read." She replies, taking a seat on the couch. Calum stared at the screen, his eyes scanning over all the words targeted at his girlfriend. His heart aches over how people could be mean to her, to the person making him feel so good.

He plops on the couch, scrolling down with his mouth open in shock. "What the fuck?" He murmurs to himself, not daring to look at (Y/N). He considers this as nothing but his fault, he should have been able to protect her from all the vile opinions. "There is a hashtag, Instagram pages, Twitter pages, and quite a few articles. I have been digging into them for hours. I really don't feel good, and my stomach genuinely hurts." (Y/N) admits, gulping the lump in her throat as she tries to fight her tears. Supposedly, she should have been feeling better now that she has let it all out of her chest, but the look on Calum's face is really unsettling.

Calum has to stop himself before he calls out all these people attacking his girl, causing a PR nightmare and getting an earful from the management. He feels helpless, not knowing how to make this situation better, how to protect her from all of that hate. (Y/N) watches Calum as he runs his hand over his face, his rings shining under the light of the room. "I... I don't know what to say... I am so sorry, you shouldn't be going through that, you shouldn't be under attack for being with me." Calum locks the phone, letting it on the table as he turns to look at (Y/N). "It's not your fault, you don't have to be sorry for that." "I should have been able to protect you, I should not have let this happen. If you want to break up with me, I totally get it... I know this can be really hard on anyone." Calum lets out the words, his head already feeling heavy at the thought of losing (Y/N).

"You are the best thing I've ever had, and I am not planning on letting you go just because a portion of your fans seem to be unable to wrap their minds around the fact that you don't belong to them. If I do that, they win, and they will never let you be happy with anyone. And fuck this whole shit, I love you and I need you in my life. And I know you don't believe in love and I don't expect you to say it back, nor change your mind about that. But I know I feel it and I know that I feel loved by you, so I don't give a damn about anything else." (Y/N) states, finally letting it all out of her chest.

And then her breath hitches as she waits for Calum's reaction; she is not delusional, she knows better than to expect him to say any big words he doesn't mean. Calum petrifies at the sound of (Y/N)'s words; it is more than clear to him that he feels the same for her, that all of this that he has been denying himself hasn't gone away, has not faded away even just a bit.

But the realization dawned on him as he heard her say it, as he heard the words become spoken, entering the real world. He does love her, with everything within him. "I say it and I mean it. I love you." Calum feels unable to incorporate any more words into this, all of his writing talent going out of the window as he stares at (Y/N). And (Y/N) knows better than to ask for him to elaborate; she doesn't need him to, anyway, she knew he loves her. "I am going to talk to management, sit down with them, and find a way to deal with this. I am not going to let anyone hurt you..." Calum whispers, scooting closer to her and bringing his hand under her chin. He really, really wants to just kiss her, more than he has ever wanted before. "Thank you..." (Y/N) can only whisper, looking down at Calum's lips.

Calum pulls (Y/N) in for a kiss, his lips engulfing hers softly. (Y/N) has been craving this, all that she wants right now is to be kissed by him, for the rest of her life. Calum's hands cradle her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks softly as he deepens the kiss. (Y/N) moans against his lips, biting onto the bottom one lightly, roughening it up just a little. "You need to eat your soup. I bet you haven't eaten anything today..." Calum pulls away, trying to stop from going too far all at once. "I am not really hungry... Just sleepy..." (Y/N) protests, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You need to eat, even if it means I will have to feed you." Calum replies, reaching at the table to grab the bowl. "I really don't want to eat. My stomach is tied up." (Y/N) dodges the spoon, sealing her lips together. "Just a little. Please..." Calum looks her in the eyes, trying to soften her, get to her good side. "Only a little bit." (Y/N) surrenders, grabbing the bowl.

Calum looks at her as she eats slowly, stroking her hair. He twists her locks through his fingers, taking in every detail of her. "I don't want more." (Y/N) places the bowl on the table, going back to her seat and curling up against Calum. Calum puts his arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Just promise me you'll have a good breakfast in the morning." Calum sighs, making (Y/N) chuckle. "Wanna sleepover? Just to make sure I do..." (Y/N) suggests, reaching to take his hand in hers. Calum smiles, nodding his head happily before he leans down to kiss her softly.

His tongue slips in her mouth while (Y/N) moves to straddle his laps. Her hands go to his face, stroking it softly as they kiss, lightly moving to his short hair. Calum's hands lower to her thighs, feeling her skin under her little robe. She feels warm under his touch, her skin erupting in thrilling goosebumps. And as the makeout progresses, Calum feels her grinding on him, her core pressing on his junk, which only grows stiffer as she wiggles on him.

(Y/N) really tries to help the tingle between her thighs, really ignoring that Calum is getting harder and harder at the sensation. "We need to stop..." Calum pulls away, groaning that he has to stop now that he feels so good. But he knows that if he doesn't pull away now, there is no way he is going to be able to contain himself. "Why?" (Y/N) asks, moaning softly as she brings her lips to his jaw, kissing, biting, sucking on it, watching Calum turn into a mess for her. "Baby, this is getting hard for me..." Calum almost whimpers, closing his eyes and throwing his head back and letting himself enjoy the sweet torture. "What if we don't have to stop..." (Y/N) asks, making Calum perk up, his heart speeding up at the hearing of the words. "What?" He asks her, trying to make sure they are on the same page before he gets too excited. "I told you we would be having sex tonight... And I meant it. I need you." (Y/N) explains, biting on her bottom lip. "Are you sure about that? We don't have to just because you said we would." Calum tries to make a sense of his thoughts, hoping that (Y/N) is absolute about this decision. "I need you to help me feel good. I really want you, I've been waiting for so long." (Y/N) sighs, stroking his cheek as Calum moves his lips to her neck.

He fixes her legs around his waist before he lifts her up, her head resting on his collarbone. Calum makes his way to her bedroom, feeling anxious about what is to come next. He lays her on her bed, while (Y/N) fixes her pillows to find comfort. "I need you to think about it again... Are you sure about that?" He asks her, looking down at (Y/N) whose fingertips rest on his jaw tenderly. "I have never been more sure about anything." (Y/N) replies, nodding her head to assure him. Calum's hand tug at the belt of her robe, silently asking for permission to remove it. (Y/N) brings her hands on top of his, guiding him as he undresses her. "I... I have bought something for tonight... Do you... Do you want me to go put it on?" (Y/N) stutters, left in only her pajama shorts and a tank top. "You are perfect already. But if it will make you feel better, you can go put it on..." Calum replies softly. (Y/N) nods her head, sliding back and getting off the bed, reaching inside a drawer to pick out the lingerie.

Calum stays only in his boxers while he waits for her to come back.

(Y/N) stares at herself in the mirror for a minute or two, sighing as she processes how she looks in the dainty lace and shiny satin. She walks back into the room, her hands pinching on her arms in hesitation. Calum scans her body, taking in every detail. He has never seen her this exposed before, not even when she was in a bikini. "Com' ere..." He gestures for her to approach him, sitting down on the mattress. She stands before him, her hands running up and down her arms as she tries to make her goosebumps go away. "You are so beautiful..." He murmurs, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer, bringing his lips to her stomach, trailing a trail of kisses from below her chest to the hem of her panties.

She feels her breath become funny, gulping down before tilting her head back, enjoying the warmth his lips leave on her skin. Calum cannot get enough of the taste of her skin, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he lowers his mouth to her bikini line. He brings his lips over her panties, kissing her sex softly as he looks up to her. His lips press on her clit, making her clench around nothing, tensing up at the newly-found feeling. "Come on, baby. Lay down." Calum takes her wrist in his hand pulling her on the bed. "I have condoms in my drawer. I bought them for tonight." (Y/N) mutters, making Calum nod his head before reaching for them.

He takes off his underwear, kicking them to the side before ripping the foil open and rolling the condom along with his throbbing cock. (Y/N) feels her chest heave at the sight of Calum's cock; she knows it is going to hurt, but she can't help but feel mesmerized over his length.

"You can tell me if you want to stop, at any moment." Calum reminds her, running his tip over her sopping core. He feels a tingle in his stomach, excitement taking over him as he preps to thrust in her. "It is going to hurt for a while. I need you to breathe, baby." He reminds her, reaching behind her back to undo her bra before he leans to peck on her forehead.

His hand travels down her chest, thumb brushing over one of her nipples before it rests on her hip, holding himself up while his other hand guides his cock to line up to her entrance. He goes in slowly, inch by inch feeling her wrap tightly around him. (Y/N) whimpers, her face scrunching up in pain as she feels a tear all the way to her stomach. Calum stops moving, looking at (Y/N) in panic. "Breathe, baby." He reminds her, pecking on her cheek as she tries to adjust to his length. "It hurts..." She whispers, feeling her eyes tearing up. "We can stop if you want..." Calum breathes out, cradling her face in his hands. She shakes her head, determined to push past the pain.

He drives his cock deeper inside her, getting excited over how good she feels on his cock. (Y/N) bite on her lip, the initial pain becoming less intense. Calum pulls out giving her a moment to soothe down. (Y/N) trembles, gasping for air as she looks at him. "I need you." She rasps, reaching down to take his hand. Calum thrusts inside her again, still going slowly as his free hand rubs her lower stomach, trying to make the pain go away faster.

The pain subdues, making (Y/N) relax, gripping onto Calum's bicep as he moves, at a faster pace. Her nails dig into his skin, decorating his inked skin with marks. "Feels good, baby?" He asks her, leaning down to kiss her neck as he still thrusts inside her. "It doesn't hurt anymore..." She replies, tilting her head to the side, giving him access to her neck. "Good. I promise I will make you feel really good..." He sighs, bringing his hand up to cup her breast, fondling it before he runs her thumb over her nipple, adding more stimuli to her body. "Deeper?" (Y/N) asks, purring softly at the sensation. "Want it deeper, baby?" He asks cockily, his eyes glistening with lust and excitement. She lets out a scream as he pounds his hips on hers, tensing up and tightening even more around him. "Oh, shit..." Calum lets out a throaty groan, enjoying how she pulses around his length, how she fits around him like a glove, how warm she is underneath him.

She arches her back a little, holding onto him as she takes him deep, feeling him in her stomach. She moans as he changes the angle, hitting inside her differently. "Fuck, that feels so good." She cries out, causing his pupils to blow out. He feels his cock pulse at the sound of her enjoying it, all of his worry going away. He hits the spot again, making her shudder as the warmth spreads to her spine. "Feels good, princess?" He asks her, bringing his thumb to her clit, pressing on the nub as he rolls it, making her jolt in excitement. Her nails dig deeper in his bicep, while her other hand goes to her breast, squeezing it to replace the sensation that Calum's hand had on it. "Faster." She demands, sensing her high come closer to her. "Are you sure?" He asks her, fearing hurting her. "Faster, please." She closes her eyes, moaning again and again as he thrusts where she needs him to.

Calum gives her everything he has, feeling his heart flutter in his chest as he watches her indulge in what he is giving her. He has never felt as intensely as he feels right now, this is almost primitive for him. "I am so close..." (Y/N) cries out, moving her hips to meet his thrusts. His thumb moves faster, earning a whine from her. "You can cum, baby. Cum around me." He whispers, feeling his own breath become shallow. "Can you take off the condom? I want to feel you." (Y/N) gasps, opening her eyes to look into his. Calum looks at her in shock, his grip on her hip becoming tighter. "Are you sure?" He asks, blinking as he tries to wrap his brain around it. "I wanna feel all of you..." She states, quivering as her high approaches.

Calum pulls out, discarding the condom and giving himself a couple of strokes before he lines up to her again. The sensation of his bare cock inside her is completely different than before, feeling him throbbing against her walls causes her to gasp for air. Feeling her around his bare cock triggers Calum. He has to get his mind to something else before it is too late. He just needs her to finish first, he needs to feel her become even tighter around him, even wetter for him. "Fuck, Calum..." She almost screams, coming undone around him. Her whole body shakes, walls convulsing around him.

Everything is blank for a few moments, she only fixates on her high, on how euphoric this is. And Calum just stares at her, taking in how good she looks like that. He doesn't move, feeling her pulse around him is enough to get him just there. (Y/N) groans at the loss of the sensation as he pulls out of her, opening her eyes to stare at him. "I need to cum..." He hisses, stroking his cock over her stomach. She just looks at him jacking off, enjoying how precious he looks, with his head tilted back and his tongue peeking from between his lips as he moans. His hand moves fast, his thumb occasionally running over his tip, until he cums on her lower stomach, giving her a warm sensation as he hisses and curses through greeted teeth.

His stomach rises and falls, breathing heavily as he rides through his high, lowering his gaze to her, finding her looking at him with rosy cheeks. She is breathing heavily as well, her hand still resting on her breast. He leans down, taking her other nipple in between his lips, sucking on it softly, but still sending electricity through her body, making her jolt. "Let me bring you a towel, baby. Clean you up a bit." He says softly, pressing a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I can go clean up..." She offers, but Calum chuckles softly. "I don't think you can walk right now. You'll feel very sore if you stand up." He replies, slipping into his boxers before he leaves the room.

(Y/N) smiles at how soft he is for her, how kind and loving. And now she knows for fact he loves her. He struts back in the room with a wet towel in hand, leaning down to wipe her clean. He does so softly as if he is afraid of breaking her. "Are you ok?" He asks as he lays down next to her, pulling her onto his chest. She lays her head on his pec, smiling as she leaves a kiss there. "Never better..." She hums, reaching to take his hand in hers. "Did you like it?" He asks, tilting her chin up to look at her. "I can't believe I have been missing out on that for that long." She replies, biting on her lip. He leans in, bringing his lips to hers for a quick second. "I can help you make up for that loss..." He replies with a smirk. "Oh, really?" She asks with her eyebrow cocked. "Anytime you want..." He assures her, earning a hum from her. "I'll consider that offer..." She replies, nestling to his chest. "I really do love you." He reminds her, with a voice as soft as a feather. "I know. And I love you too." She states, kissing his chest.

My Masterlist

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delirious-comfort · 4 years ago

Text

Regarding Shadow Haven.

You know when something happens and to many people it’s insignificant, but to you... it’s destructive. Painful. And people say, “Don’t give it more attention than it deserves,” but you’re silently fuming because it takes all your attention?

That’s me right now. That has been me all day every since I saw the post. One small comment, one giant accusation.

Now I can do two things. Post the screenshot here or not post the screenshot. Because the third option? To walk away silently? I can’t do that.

Today I scrolled through a group on Facebook and read the comments. It was about SQ fics that got turned into a books. Obviously, mine is one of those.

One of the comments said this:

“I used to like Shadow Haven until I found out the author was using their partner’s ideas and even having their partner write parts of the book for them, then took their name off everything and took all the credit.”

When someone called her out on the fact that it was a highly defamatory statement, she said this:

“I know I’m correct, because I watched the tail end of it happen. Don’t get me wrong, she did write some of it, but there was too much that she didn’t write for her to not put the other person’s name on it somewhere.”

At first I laughed, because how utterly ridiculous. Then I started to cry because there is one thing I cannot stand and it’s being accused of something I did not do. Then I got really angry. I think I am still very angry.

I feel the need to defend myself over a comment someone made with zero evidence to back it up. Because I wrote every last word of Shadow Haven myself.

The girl who accused me is a friend of one of my exes. Someone I have blocked. Someone I don’t wish to interact with. Someone who I didn’t think would sink so low as to lie about this, but she obviously has.

If you’ve ever followed Shadow Haven as it was published, you’ll know these things to be true:

- I started writing Shadow Haven before I met my ex.

- I finished Shadow Haven after I broke up with my ex. We dated for a short amount of time (6 months give or take). It wasn’t healthy and I wasn’t gonna stay in a relationship like that. I broke up with her about four weeks after my brother died because everyone has their limit and my limit was a comment of hers about my grief.

- Shadow Haven never has had a different author than me.

- My ex edited perhaps a couple of chapters for me, like any beta would do. If she added sentences to my work, I removed them. I can recall this happening once with the scene where Regina has the nightmare about the man on the island. I removed it because I didn’t like that, it was not her place to do so. It’s never any beta’s place to do so, btw. I can’t remember any other instances.

- I have never taken the ideas of my ‘partner’ nor has she written any parts of the book, nor was her name every on the fanfic, nor did I ever take it off. The only thing I removed was this comment: “This story is currently being edited by blabla.” Because we broke up and she stopped doing that way before we broke up because, you may recall, my brother died in 2016 (when I was with my ex) and I stopped writing for a while.

- Shadow Haven was so important to me. To show true representation. Then it became a whole different kind of important to me because I was working on the book version (because Ylva asked me before I finished the fic) while dealing with the grief of my brother dying.

But now there’s an accusation. And I can’t prove I didn’t nor can they prove I did. And it’s bothering me. The only proof I have is that the story is my voice. Every last word, because I wrote every single fucking word. And I am so angry about it and I don’t know how to let it go.

Many people have already showed their support to me. And it’s helped, but then I glance at the comment, and I get angry all over again. Because Shadow Haven is a fic I worked so hard on. Had so much pleasure working on. Made great friendships over. And now this fucking cloud is dooming over it. Because she won’t be the only person who would have been told this.

So what do I do now? How do I get over being so angry over one comment? Do I link you to my ex’s ao3 so y’all can go and compare our writing styles? Do I DM this girl on one of her three differently named Facebook profiles and tell her my side? Do I just... let it go?

Do I expose every last fucking lie my ex has ever told?

No. Because I don’t want to be like that.

But I can guarantee you this and I will die on this hill. Every last word in Shadow Haven was written by me. I never stole anyone’s ideas, nor did I ever ‘take’ any credit.

The credit belongs to me. Because I wrote it. I thought of it. I put down the very last sentence of Shadow Haven the day I wrote the first sentence and took many months to fill in everything in between.

Now this girl mentions the book and not the fic, so I’m honestly kind of confused which one she means. Because if she is actually talking about the book, I can show every last fucking edit I made as I turned it into a book. I have the digital proof of every last chapter. Time stamped. Date stamped. I have the comments and suggestions of the editor provided to me by my publisher and every single change I made because of it.

And you know? I did all those things way after I dated my ex. Because I was dating someone else at that time. Someone who lived with me. Someone who watched me day after day and night after night work on it. Someone who supported me and someone who earned the dedication I gave her at the time in the book.

So, to my ex, if you’re reading this. Please stop. Tell your friend the truth. If you wanted to hurt me, congratulations, you succeeded.

But I will never let you take Shadow Haven from me.

It is and always was, mine.

#so #do with that what you will #I will not be accused and take it silently

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crashdevlin · 4 years ago

Text

Civil Warriors 6- Africa

Civil Warriors Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Three of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: The three super soldiers start their trek toward Wakanda.

Word Count: 4665

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Bucky Barnes x OFC

Chapter Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, Bucky Barnes being suave

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure that you’re okay to walk this whole way?” Bucky asked as the sun started to go down on the second day of their trek across Africa. None of them had slept and it was evident in their attitudes.

“Barnes, don’t ask again,” Cassie snapped. “I’m just as genetically gifted as you and Steve are. Just because I’m a woman-”

“Hey, it’s not about that!” Bucky interrupted, blue eyes going wide. “I’m just...guess I just don’t know much about your abilities, so…”

“How about we make camp?” Steve suggested, hefting his bag off of his shoulder and dropping it to the ground. “We could use the rest.”

“I’ll get a fire going,” Bucky volunteered.

“And I can regale you with my back story while I set up the tent. Ya know, the stuff after Hydra lost me.” Cassie dropped her bag to the ground at her feet and grabbed the tent. “See, Fury stormed Der Spielplatz with fifty men and grabbed everyone on base. I think it was called Operation Playtime Distortion. It was a rescue operation for Agent Mackenzie. They found my files before they found me. I remember the look on Fury’s face when he walked into my cell on the sublevel and found me, sitting on my bed...confused. Confused, brainless, without a single memory to work from.”

She sighed and licked her lips, avoiding the gaze of the blue-eyed men with her. “He took me and cuffed me and put me on a plane to the Fridge.” She looked at Bucky for a sign of recognition of the name, but she didn’t find any so she continued. “Fridge was a place where SHIELD put dangerous people, dangerous items. I was there for ten years, basically grew up in that cell...all that I remembered of my life was in the Fridge for a long time. Fury didn’t want to release me into the world. For good reason...he read the file. He knew what was buried in my head.”

She bit the inside of her lip and cleared her throat. “Ten years in captivity, though, and I never showed it. When I was eighteen, I started a relationship with an agent...one of Fury’s right hand men...he convinced Fury to...got him to consider letting me out, but it took two more years of Fury considering before he eventually let me out.”

Cassie rolled the tent out and grabbed the poles. “I mean, I really thought I was normal. I mean, I obviously knew I was Red Skull’s daughter, but I thought of it more as…” She shrugged. “Johann Schmidt was just the sperm donor, you know? I wasn’t a Nazi. I was just a girl. I couldn’t remember the Hydra labs at all by the time I was eighteen and I hadn’t ever shown any abnormal physiology. Except the lack of a belly button, I was just like everyone else. I thought maybe I was really lucky and Red Skull’s enhancements couldn’t be passed down. Maybe it just wasn’t in me and I was okay with that. It meant I could focus on the goals I had for after I got out of the Fridge.”

Cassie pushed the first set of poles through the tent and grabbed the second set. “I wanted to get out, get a degree, get a job, get married, have a baby. I was halfway to a degree by the time I got out of the Fridge. My boyfriend got me started on the baby. He didn’t know that. I didn’t tell him. Would’ve just been...complicated. Things with Phil were over by then and it was easier for me to just...drop out of college and move to New York, just in time for Loki to rain down a storm of aliens on our heads. I was lucky, didn’t have to deal with the Chitauris, though. No, I got to contend with the Asgardian prince himself,” she said bitterly. “When he pulled me out from under the lab table where I was hiding and used his scepter to put me in a trance. Somehow, he used that thing to unlock what was in me. He unlocked my genetics. I was...suddenly strong, agile, an Olympic-level athlete.”

“So, Loki made you a super soldier?” Bucky asked as the fire started.

“Not really. I wasn’t a soldier. I was a super lab tech. Super...rape victim. Super broken.” She smiled sadly. “Super alcoholic. I spent almost all of my money on booze that year. Takes a lot to get me drunk. I assume you guys have a similar issue.”

“Haven’t tried. I was afraid of what might...happen,” Bucky answered, quietly.

“I tried...in ‘44 when Bucky fell off the train. Only drank one bottle, though. Might’ve worked if I drank more,” Steve said.

Cassie nodded. “Gotta drink fast. I’ve found that two bottles of strong, cheap whiskey are enough to get me drunk...for about an hour and a half. Which was usually enough to get me to sleep for a while.” She licked her lips as she pushed the second set of poles through the tent. “I fell into a deep spiral for a year. Loki, he killed my daughter, raped me, carved his name into my chest...it didn’t seem like there was very much good in life.”

“Been there,” Bucky muttered, pulling food out of his bag.

“Anyway, uh, Clint showed up after about a year of me...bottling everything up in whiskey. He was nice. He saw the potential in me, knew my damage...or at least the damage Loki caused...but he tried to help me find myself anyway.” She scoffed derisively. “Unfortunately, Loki noticed. He didn’t like that I was spending time with another man. He doesn’t ever like when I spend time with other men. He’s not exactly thrilled that I’m out here with you.”

“You think he’s watching us?” Steve asked, standing straight and looking around.

“He’s watching me. He’s always watching me. The psycho thinks I’m his queen, he’s gonna have an eye on me...as often as possible, anyway,” she said as she started pushing stakes into the ground one by one. “Loki showed up with the scepter again and put me in a trance. Steve was there for this part. Loki made me ‘Joanna’. Now, when I came back to myself after a couple weeks of following Loki around as Joanna, I thought I was evil. I thought Joanna was evil because of how I followed that jerk around, but she wasn’t. She just didn’t have all of my hang-ups. I talked to a shrink and he clarified some stuff. I realized that Joanna was just me without my inhibitions. But at first, I was convinced I was evil. I ran away...to Austria. I spe-”

“She left the base in a hospital gown. No shoes, nothing,” Steve said, his tone proud. “We were in the Alps, Buck, but she survived, made it down the mountain without even a hint of frostbite.”

“Didn’t know you were so impressed by that,” she mumbled.

“Of course I was. We thought you were dead after we went a few days without finding you...but then Clint found you.”

“Only after Loki found me first.” Cassie sighed as she looked at the tent. It was undoubtedly going to be a very tight fit for three supersoldiers. “Anyway, I lived the simple life in Austria for a few months. I worked at this little diner and relearned German, ‘cause when Fury steamrolled my Hydra indoctrination, he felt the need to rid me of my Mother Tongue.” She cleared her throat to deal with the bitterness. “Anyway, horrible nightmares, spiral of depression and sadness, found God but that wasn’t hard since I was sleeping in the closet of the local mission. Loki found me again, had his way with me again, disguised as the priest who kept me from trying to kill myself for two months. He didn’t have his scepter that time thought so I fought back and I fought back hard and then I ran...straight into Clint, who brought me back.”

She laughed quietly. “Blah blah blah, identity issues. Blah blah, my ex sent me to a shrink, I realized I wasn’t evil and that I could make up for my family legacy through being a superhero. Became an Avenger, Clint started teaching me Ops stuff and...I started remembering.” She turned to look at the soldiers. Bucky’s eyes were focused on her, but Steve was looking at the ground. “Muscle memory kicked in first. The way I field-stripped my pistol, how well I moved during sparring sessions. I held off the actual memories as long as possible, tried to focus on the ‘now’, but...when I told Pietro Maximoff that I’d never killed anyone, I got the first flash of…” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “Agent Mackenzie. It wasn’t much but it made me see that, if I kept letting myself remember then there was no way I was going to be the woman I thought I was when I was in the Fridge. If I remembered, I’d become more of this...other person. The ‘worse than Joanna’ person that Fury knew I was. So, I left the Avengers, went back to school.”

“Until I called you into this,” Steve said, guiltily.

“I was still remembering anyway, Steve. Remember Christmas? I wasn’t sleeping, freaked out when I was cutting the ham. It wasn’t being an Avenger that was doing it...it was everything. It was living my life.”

Steve nodded, standing straight, but maintaining an air of guilt. “Hey, Bucky, you wanna come with me, do a perimeter check?” he asked. Bucky followed without a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, how’d you end up with the archer?” Bucky asked, eating his MRE spaghetti. “I know how you met, but how’d he get you to date him?”

“Hey, don’t say it like that. Archery’s sexy,” she defended, eating a large cracker. “Um...I don’t know, really. He’s nice and charismatic...attractive. Blue eyes get to me...and he’s a relentless flirt. He was workin’ me from the moment I met him.” She looked down and picked up a packet of peanut butter. “I think...in all seriousness, I think when I started to get confused about who I was, I needed someone who knew the real me. Clint used to surveil me for Fury...off and on for about two years, he watched me. So, he knew the woman I was with Phil. He knew all about me. He got to witness the happy optimist with the flair for science. I need that. I-I liked his bluntness and he wanted to fix me.”

“That’s the basis of your relationship?” Bucky asked, licking his spork. “Doesn’t seem very strong to me.”

“Well, sex is a factor,” Cassie responded flippantly, eliciting a deep blush to break out across Steve’s face.

Bucky reached out and hit his shoulder. “Come on, Steve. People are gonna think you’re a virgin if you act like that,” he teased.

“He’s not one?” Cassie asked.

“Buck…” Steve warned, glaring across the fire at his friend.

“Nah, I got him laid during the war,” Bucky answered, ignoring the look. “See, he had his heart set on Agent Carter, but his loins were just fine with this pretty French girl.”

Cassie chuckled as she ripped open the peanut butter. “Well, Clint and Tony owe me ten bucks.”

“You bet on whether I was a virgin?” Steve asked, eyes wide. Cassie just shrugged and Steve looked down at his knees. “Sophie was a very nice girl. I would’ve written her but...ya know, frozen in a block of ice.”

“A nice girl? I thought nice girls waited ‘til marriage back in your day.”

“She was French,” Bucky said, like it was the only explanation needed.

“Much more liberal in France back then,” Steve explained.

“Okay, then,” Cassie said, laughing. “So, wait...just the one, Steve?”

“Why does it matter?” Steve asked, running his fingers through his hair. “I mean, one is more than you guys thought, right?”

“Actually, I assumed you’d had several just since you thawed out,” Cassie responded before gesturing at him. “I mean, look at you. In today’s society, you being amazingly handsome and heroic...I figured you might have been talked into a couple one night stands.” The blush on his cheeks seemed to take Steve’s whole face, spreading like wildfire.

“Even I’ve gotten laid since you’ve been thawed out,” Bucky added.

Cassie looked playfully offended. “Oh, so the thing about not having a woman in your arms since the forties, that was just a line?”

“I said a ‘beautiful woman’,” Bucky corrected. “Ludmilla was a troll.”

Cassie laughed. “Really? You needed to get some so bad that you had sex with a troll named ‘Ludmilla’?”

Bucky smiled. “You sleep with Clint,” he reminded before tucking his hair behind his ears. “In my defense, I was breaking a seventy year abstinence.”

She smirked as she turned to look at Steve. “What about you? Have you broken that ‘frozen in a block of ice’ abstinence yet?”

“I-I really don’t think this is an appropriate-”

“Romanoff?” Cassie interrupted. “CIA Agent Carter?”

Steve sighed and looked away. “There was a SHIELD agent. She asked me to coffee, then we went to dinner...afterwards, she got a little...needful.”

Cassie turned to Bucky. “‘Needful’ equals ‘horny’, right?” Bucky nodded.

“That was a few months before SHIELD fell. Haven’t seen her since,” Steve finished quickly.

“You okay, Steve?” Bucky asked.

“Um...I just realized that she might have been Hydra,” he responded, rubbing at his temple and looking like he was questioning every decision he had ever made.

“I’m sure she wasn’t-” Cassie started, but Bucky interrupted.

“Might’ve been.”

“Well, she didn’t kill you in your sleep so you can probably count on her not being Hydra,” Cassie rationalized.

“Well, I didn’t...sleep.”

“You dog, you,” Cassie teased.

“All right, all right. Finish up your food and we’ll bed down.” Steve turned away, looking completely embarrassed as the other laughed at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassie lay on her side with her back to Bucky and Steve. The tent was small. They’d only been expecting to need room for two and she wasn’t large, but her two companions were. She tried to make herself even smaller, but her feet kept touching Bucky’s legs, her ass kept brushing against him every time she wiggled a bit to chase comfort. Or maybe it was the other way. Maybe he was touching her.

A few minutes after Steve’s breathing deepened and slowed, Cassie felt Bucky shift. He turned over to lie on his left side, facing her. “You smell good,” he whispered, tentatively moving his hand over to rest on her hand. “Which is so crazy since we’ve been sweating for two days.”

“There are pheromones in the natural scent of a person,” she whispered back, unsure of what to say. “But I...I have been wearing an antiperspirant. Just...saying.” She swallowed heavily as his hand began to drift up, his fingertips playing with the hem of her tank top.

“Steve told me to back off,” he whispered, his breath cascading over her ear and cheek. “I get why. How we were raised...back then, it was more than just a low move to make a pass at another man’s girl, ‘specially if he put a ring on her finger.” His hand slipped under her shirt and rested heavily above the thick circular scar she gave herself to represent a navel when she was eighteen. “But you’re not like any woman I’ve ever met. You’re nothing like the women from the forties but you...you’re not meant for 2016 either. I’ve lived through so many decades and...here you are. Here’s this beautiful woman who sees what little good is left in me.”

“I saw the good fifteen years ago, when you brought the CSF to the Playground. You were so cold and emotionless when you walked in. So strong and stoic, but when you saw me strapped down to that table in a fetal position so they could inject the CSF, you literally flinched.” She took a deep breath and sighed it out. “You refused to give them the vial. They had to call in your handler.”

“I just couldn’t believe they were experimenting on you. You were so young. I knew they were going to break you. I wish I could have stopped them.”

“It’s not your fault, Sergeant. I know you would have stopped them if you could have.” She turned over to face him, forcing his fingers to slide over her hip and settle in the small of her back. “You are absolutely a good man, Bucky.”

He shook his head a little, his tair tickling her forehead as it moved. “A good man wouldn’t have spent the last two days wanting another man’s fiancée.”

She scoffed a little. “And a good woman wouldn’t be so damn excited to hear that. I guess neither of us are perfect.”

Bucky smiled softly. “To me, you are. As close to perfect as a man can touch.” He brought his hand up to pull a lock of sweaty hair from her forehead and tuck it back with the rest of her hair. So much care in a single action.

“Bucky...I meant what I said in Germany, ya know. If there was a man who might take me from Clint, it’d be you,” she whispered, part of her wondering exactly why she was telling the man.

His eyes went just a little wide. “I...we better turn back over.” His hand returned to the small of her back, though. “If Steve sees this, he’ll start a fight and I’m a bit disadvantaged at the moment.”

Cassie smiled. “I’d protect you, soldier.”

“No doubt about that,” Bucky whispered, smiling as he rubbed a circle into the small of her back with his thumb. “But we’ve got two weeks ‘til Wakanda. Plenty of time to piss off Captain America.” He licked his lips before pulling his hand back and rolling over to his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they were walking the next day, Cassie’s bag began to ring. “You brought a phone?” Steve asked as she dropped the pack to the ground and started to dig through it.

“Cool your jets, Rogers. I’m not an idiot,” she snapped, pulling out an old Nokia cell phone with a thick antenna.

“Whoa. Even I know that’s ancient tech,” Bucky said as he looked at it.

“Ancient, yes, but functional. Not working on the same systems as the new stuff. No GPS. If I keep the call short, they won’t even be able to ping the mobile towers,” she said, proudly. “Had to steal it from a museum, but it’s tactically sound.” She hit the button and held the cell to her ear. “Moshi moshi?”

“Cassie?” a familiar voice asked.

“Phil? Wh-what’s going on? How’d you know I have this-”

“I was wondering if I could use you on something...kinda world-ending important. Mack says he can’t get a location on your cell. Where are you?”

“Phil, it’s a...it’s a long story, but, uh...I’ll get back to you,” she said, moving to hang up.

“No! Don’t hang up! I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need-” Phil started.

“Is that Coulson?” Steve asked as Bucky looked between the other two.

“Is that Captain America?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, it is,” she answered both of them at the same time. “Look, I can’t stay on the phone. I know you’re running traces and you’re gonna have a location for me any minute now. I can’t let you find me. I’m actually pretty damn busy.”

“I have an Inhuman parasite in the body of a man I killed working to destroy the world. He’s infected Daisy and taken control of her, I think this is a little more important than whatever you’re doing in North Africa, Cassie.”

“Thanks for letting me know the trace is working,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I will call you back later. This is important, too.”

“Ya know, I thought you signed the Accords as a ruse to get out of the Raft, but if you’re not willing to help me with this just because it’s off the books-”

“Mein Gott, Philip! This has nothing to do with that! I am helping Cap and Bucky make it somewhere safe so that we can mount an offensive on the Raft and help the other Avengers escape captivity! If you really need help with Inhuman, we can help you after the jailbreak. I will call you back then! Goodbye, Phil!” Cassie snapped, turning off the phone and shoving it back into her bag. She looked up at the soldiers who were both looking down at her questioningly. “He was talking too much. I had to cut him off before they got a location,” she explained calmly.

“Who’s Coulson?” Bucky asked, offering his hand as she went to stand. She took it and slung her backpack over her shoulder.

“I told you I had an ex who’s a big fan of Cap and the Commandos?” she reminded him. “Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD.”

“You dated the director of SHIELD?” Bucky asked.

“Well, he wasn’t Director when I dated him,” she said, smiling.

“He’s a good man,” Steve said, thinking of Coulson dead at Loki’s hand.

“That’s a recurrent theme with your boyfriends, isn’t it?” Bucky asked as Cassie adjusted the straps of her bag. “A good man, just couldn’t keep you.”

Cassie looked at her feet as she started to walk away from them. “Phil didn’t want to keep me. He found a pretty little cellist in Portland. He decided on her.”

“What an idiot,” Bucky commented, following her.

“And Clint hasn’t lost me yet,” she finished.

Bucky nodded once and moved past her to take point. “Where’s your ring?” he whispered as he passed her. Cassie looked down at her left hand, shocked to see that her engagement ring was gone. “Pocket.”

“How’d it get there, Barnes?” she asked, patting her pants.

“Don’t want people seeing it,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “Might think you’re worth stealing or something.”

“I’m definitely worth stealing. My wit alone is enough to make me worth the effort.”

“And that body of yours is just icing,” Bucky shot back with a smirk.

“On a very intelligent cake. Don’t objectify me, Sergeant,” she said with a smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. You and I have both been objects.”

“Do you have to do that?” Steve snapped from behind her.

“You’re right, Steve. Let’s just pretend we don’t have a gorgeous woman traveling with us,” Bucky said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to pretend anything, but you shouldn’t be so shameless with-”

“A grown-ass woman who’s giving as good as she’s getting?” Cassie interrupted. “I’m not married, Steve.”

“Your fiance is sitting in a cell right now because of me. The least I can do is make sure that my best friend doesn’t break up his engagement while he’s stuck in there.”

“Glad you think so highly of me, Steve,” Bucky mumbled.

“I think the world of you, both of you,” Steve said, seriously. “That’s why I don’t want you to do something damaging to-”

“Steve, stop. If I chose to break off my engagement to Barton, it would be because I chose to. Not because of Bucky or you. Maybe I’m…” She shook her head. “...not really sure I want to be married. Maybe I don’t know who I am so how could I possibly make a good addition to someone else? Maybe I can’t marry him because I’ve been hiding the unsavory parts of myself from him. The worst thing he knows about me is Joanna.”

“Clint would love you anyway,” Steve said, matter-of-factly.

Cassie scoffed. “If he wanted an assassin for a bride, he’d have asked Natasha a long time ago.”

“You aren’t an assassin, Cassie,” Steve said, grabbing her hand to stop her.

She smirked sardonically as she turned and looked up at him. “We don’t know that, do we? What we do know is that at least one of the names on SHIELD’s Walls of Valor was on there because of me. I’ve killed. A good man, a good agent, one that Fury liked enough to go on a search for.” She shook her head and forced out a sharp breath of air. “Were there more? Was it a whole group of agents that I murdered? I don’t know. You don’t know. But just one is enough to make me question myself forever. And it’ll be enough for Clint to stop seeing me as his pristine Red Queen.”

Steve’s eyebrows came together. “He doesn’t love you because you’re… ‘pristine’.”

“He wouldn’t love me if he knew I was a monster, Steve,” she argued.

“I don’t agree,” Steve said as Bucky stopped and turned to them. “And you aren’t a monster.”

“You don’t have to agree. I know him. I know Clint. He sees me as this beautiful, broken thing, a little bit scarred but otherwise beautiful. The biggest scar on me is supposed to be the one Loki carved into my chest. He thinks that I’m...getting better, but I’m just getting better at hiding it. I shouldn’t have to hide anything from him though and I do. I have to hide. You think it won’t change how he sees me when he finds out I murdered someone? You can’t say that, Cap, because it’s changed how you look at me.” Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Cassie continued before he could. “You look at me and Bucky like Clint looks at fuckin’ rescue dogs. ‘Oh sure, this one has scars from being forced into dog fights but we can rehabilitate him!” she said in a mock of Clint’s voice before her face fell.

“Except we didn’t get the Pit Bull with the clipped ears and the scars, Steve. We got the Golden Retriever with the waggly tail who eats pizza.” She stepped toward Bucky and adjusted her bag on her back. “I don’t mind being the Pit Bull so much but Clint thinks I’m the Retriever...and it’s gonna hurt our relationship when he realizes I’m not.”

Steve shook his head sadly. “When did you decide your relationship was over?” he asked, quietly.

She looked between Steve and Bucky, then shrugged. “Probably when I saw how he looked at Bucky.”

“Was that before or after you told him that Bucky could take you from him?” Steve asked, pointedly.

“Back when we were still stateside, Steve. When we were watching the news about the bombing in Vienna,” Cassie answered before she started walking again. “He looked at Bucky like he was a rabid dog.”

“I’m not excited about all these dog metaphors,” Bucky spoke up as he followed her.

“I just don’t think you should write off your whole engagement until you know how Clint feels about...your past.”

“My past. Like it’s that simple.” She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t like you finding out I was pregnant with Phil’s kid or that I wanted so badly to be a mother that I was willing to let Loki’s child destroy me from the inside. This is worse. This is murder.”

“But ‘murder’ implies you did it on purpose, Cassie. You were forced-” Steve started.

“No, I wasn’t forced. I was given an order and I didn’t even try to resist. I murdered that agent and...memories are vague, but I think I liked it. I am a murderer, Steve. Clint is not.”

“We’ve all done regrettable things,” Steve said.

“Not like this. Only Bucky can understand this.” She swallowed thickly. “Look, drop it. I’m not who he thinks I am and I never will be,” she said before walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie

Hero Tags - @atc74 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld

#cassie writes stuff #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #bucky barnes #OFC #red queen chronicles

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calenheniel · 4 years ago

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Queen of the Ashes | extended author’s notes

In which I delve into the themes, symbolism, and creation of my latest fic.

Foreword

I’ve been writing in the Hans/Elsa fandom since 2014 now, and yet, to my surprise, had never delved into the world of the “Hans with fire powers” genre. I’d enjoyed the art and fics for it, but didn’t have a good idea of what to write on the topic myself, though the idea percolated in my mind that I should, at some point, contribute to it. After bandying ideas back and forth with a friend off-Tumblr, the first line of the story came to me: “They met as children.”

Fics about Hans and Elsa meeting pre-Frozen are also common in the fandom, and to my mind, the notion that they would have met before completely changed how they would interact during the coronation sequence (and “every moment after,” as Hans might say himself). Add to that the notion that Hans, like Elsa, had secret powers – in addition to all their other shared experiences, which the fans elucidate through fics and art and posts – and it creates a new and tantalizing dynamic to tease out over the course of many chapters. It also begged the question, to me at least: even if they had met when they were kids, and realized some of their likenesses, could they still have successfully overcome their individual traumas as adults?

I had promised, for some time, that I would explain in full the background behind this fic, including symbols and themes which readers may have missed along the way. In particular, I am aware that the Epilogue may have unsettled or taken unaware some of them who had enjoyed the quasi-happy ending of the preceding chapter—a phenomenon which I was well aware might happen from the very beginning. It is therefore my hope that the following notes elucidate some of the mystery of the story, and why it ended the way it did. (And I’m tagging @yumi-michiyo, who helped me to summarize my thoughts more cleanly in discussing them with her.)

Theme: abuse (and its consequences)

There are many allusions in Queen of the Ashes to various types of abuse experienced by its main characters: parental and familial; physical and verbal; intentional and unintentional; organizational and relational. While some are described in an overt manner with little ambiguity, others are less obvious, but no less malicious in their impacts on the character.

When reading into the various traumas of the characters, it is easier to ascribe value judgments to the actions of certain characters over others. It would be difficult for anyone to argue that Hans’s father and brothers, for example, weren’t terribly abusive towards Hans; likewise, it would be hard to ignore that the insistence of Elsa’s parents for her to “conceal, don’t feel” had tangibly negative psychological consequences on their daughter, regardless of their good intentions. The consequences of such abuse on both characters are obvious: towards themselves and their powers, they are taught to feel fear, anxiety, discomfort, denial, and confusion; towards others, they can be perceived as childlike and their decisions arbitrary and cruel, cynical of the outside world, unable to trust, and blaming all else but themselves for their troubles.

On the flip side, the abuse which Hans then inflicts on Elsa – pursuing her in spite of her telling him to leave (on multiple occasions), leveraging family connections (Anna) to pressure her into speaking and meeting with him, taking advantage of her self-doubt and fear to convince her to trust only him, lying to her about his true nature and his past misdeeds, pressuring her to continue hiding her powers up until and even after they are married – is in many ways subtler, disguised as him trying to help her accept her powers and herself (even as he tells her that no one else will accept or understand her, except him). They are also characteristic of the deceptions deployed by the character in canon to achieve his objectives, even if they were, originally, used on Anna (whom he also lies to in this story, for other reasons).

It is understandably harder to view Hans’s actions in the same light as those of his parents, or her parents, as we are led to believe that he truly does care about Elsa in this story, and feels a special kinship with her on account of their shared miseries and strengths. I am not here to say definitively, one way or the other, if he cares about her or doesn’t; that is always up to the readers to decide. The point is rather to illuminate how difficult it can be to tell deceptions from truth when the deceptions are told from a sympathetic perspective, and when the deceptions appear to be borne from circumstances so harrowing and tragic that the readers might be inclined to forgive them their trespasses against other characters.

When viewed in the context of their upbringings, we can more clearly see the full cycle of abuse: that which was perpetrated against our protagonists, and that which they, in turn, can and do perpetrate against each other. In attempting to break this cycle, and start a new life with Elsa, Hans ends up playing into similar patterns of manipulation and coercion with her, her family, and her people which he had internalized over many years of suffering the same. Whether he does this on purpose or inadvertently is up for interpretation, but still beside the point, which is: in trying to be the opposite of his family, and then in killing that family, he begins to resembles them.

Theme: perspective

As in several other of my fics released over the last few years, this story experiments with narrative and perspective, describing to the audience the events of the story through only one character per chapter. For the majority of the story, we are shown events from Elsa’s perspective (Chapters 2-8 and 10), and given special insight into her years of isolation and accompanying mental distress. No other character is allotted as much time and room to think and develop and reflect on everything that is happening to them, as Elsa is; and yet, at the same time, we are rarely allowed all the way in to see and know her thoughts in each moment beyond the whispers of “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show” that echo through her mind, in empty rooms, and from her own lips.

We are mostly shown her reactions to things that are happening to or around her, and given vague descriptions otherwise about “off-screen” moments like meetings or public hearings where her attention is not fully present. Upon a second reading, it might become more difficult to be certain about what exactly is going through her mind, especially towards the end in Chapter 10 and the Epilogue (in which we are removed from her perspective entirely, and see her only as Hans does).

In Chapters 1, 9, and the Epilogue, by contrast, we are shown events from Hans’s perspective: as a child, then chronologically from childhood through adulthood, and finally just after he is crowned King of Arendelle and married to Elsa. We first meet Elsa and Anna through his eyes and experience his pain, though the source of it is not confirmed until later in the story. When we finally learn about his powers through the confrontation with Elsa in Chapter 8, we are briefly allowed back into his perspective in Chapter 9 in order to experience his ordeals and better understand his motivations.

With so little “screen time,” however, it is difficult to know or understand Hans in the same way we think we do Elsa. We trust him when Elsa does (or perhaps before, if we are sympathetic to the child Hans from Chapter 1), and believe that his version of events as recounted in Chapter 9 must be true and accurate due to their disturbing nature. Even when we are presented with evidence which suggests that his actions aren’t as pure and good as they seem (see notes on the symbolism of roses, apples, and gloves below), we are unlikely to question the validity of his memories and intentions towards Elsa, since, as the victim of severe abuse, we cannot fathom that he would inflict the same on someone he appears and claims to deeply cares for.

It is easy to forget, in these switching perspectives, the complexity and development of the characters, and how certain aspects from earlier on in the story – such as Elsa’s initial suspicion of Hans and his motives – might return even after the “happy ending” of Chapter 10. A common critique of romantic comedies (and Disney movies) is that they end just as the relationship is about to begin—the relationship being the more difficult part of the story to explain and understand, with less romance and more compromise and bargaining.

The Epilogue therefore serves as an antidote to this trope in asking: what would actually happen after Hans and Elsa came together? How would he publicly court her, given his sour reputation? How would he help her to control her powers, while still keeping them (and his own) a secret, and convincing her to do the same? If they decided to get married, how could they continue to keep it a secret? Could Elsa ever truly forgive and forget Hans’s past misdeeds, and cover up his crimes in perpetuity?

And, perhaps, the kicker: Did Hans ever really care for, or love, Elsa during the course of the story—or does he just see her as an extension of himself and his own trauma? Did Elsa love him in return? Can there be love without trust?

It is impossible to answer these questions wholly when the chapter is presented only from Hans’s perspective, as it is; and even if it were from Elsa’s, we would still be missing half the story. In place of seeing both points of view at once, we are left to put the pieces together ourselves of what happened in the year between Chapter 10 and the Epilogue, relying on our knowledge of both characters’ actions from earlier chapters in the story to make sense of their final decisions and feelings.

Symbolism: roses

Roses play an important symbolic role in the story, and feature both in Chapter 6, during Hans and Elsa’s conversation in the rose garden of the castle in Arendelle, as well as in the Epilogue, wherein Hans offers Elsa a rose made of flames during his proposal (which she then turns into ice).

Hans, comparing Elsa to a rose in Chapter 6, frames it thusly:

“You know, Elsa,” he began, “roses are actually rather difficult to grow. The conditions have to be just right, with plenty of sunshine, well-drained soil, and in areas free from pests, since they’re so susceptible to disease. Without regular attention, it’s unlikely they’d survive.” He eyed her pointedly as he added: “So it’s a wonder that these are still here, and blooming as beautifully as they are.”

The unspoken implication of this analogy is that Elsa, as a delicate and fragile flower, must be taken care of and tended to. Thus, the paternalistic warning underlying his speech is that she will decay without proper handling, and that he is the one who can handle her. Even when Elsa rejects this perspective and the analogy itself (“I’m not a rose, Hans. I don’t require sunlight, or pruning, or ‘regular attention’ to endure”), a feminist reading of this scene might say that he still forces her to take on the feminine duty of caring for him when he plucks the rose from the bush in order to make his point, reinforcing the dominance of the male gaze and viewpoint during this scene.

Likewise, his traditional proposal to her as described in the Epilogue, even with the untraditional aspect of his created rose of flame, could be interpreted as him delineating their roles in their future married life together—with Elsa’s ice solidifying this arrangement. In both chapters, Hans is literally leading Elsa “down the primrose path”: showing her what a world wherein she is free from fear and doubt would look like, but only if she puts her trust in him, and discards the memories of and attachment to her deceased parents. (The idiom itself refers to leading a life of leisure and sin in place of morality and good judgment, and so you can see its application here. You are all also more than entitled to feel that I, as the author, also led you down the “primrose path” in the sudden atmospheric shift between Chapter 10 and the Epilogue.)

Symbolism: apple

Similar to the rose, the apple featured in Chapter 7 is an explicit nod not only to the temptation of Eve in the Garden of Eden – and the accompanying downfall of mankind – but also to many other stories of temptation leading to damnation, such as Snow White.

As Hans points out in his speech to Elsa:

“Fine things, apples, when they’re ripe like this. Beautiful, even—your mouth waters just looking at it, thinking about how sweet or tart it might be. But then […] You see something like this, and even though you want to take a bite out of it, you think, ‘well, I’d better just check.’ So you take out a knife and cut it open,” he said, and dug both of his thumbs into the side where the hole was. “And what do you find? […] Nothing but a rotten, brown core,” he continued, a sigh escaping his lips as he gazed into the fruit’s ruined interior.

[…]

“I know that the memories of your parents are precious to you,” he murmured, his grasp soft, “and I don’t mean to deny you them. I only ask you to question what happened—to ask yourself what good it did you to be kept inside all these years, separated from your sister. And all because of what? You hurt her once, when you didn’t know any better,” he said, “and they made you pay for it, for every moment after. But you shouldn’t have to anymore.”

While he is making the analogy in order to imply that Elsa’s parents, though well-intentioned, still raised her within an immoral and abusive environment, the apple also serves to illustrate the darker side of Hans’s own behavior and speech. On the surface, he is trying to help Elsa remove the “rose-colored lenses” through which she still views her parents, and to see her powers as a gift and not a curse; but as he grabs her hand and pressures her to listen to him (“The juice from the putrid core of the apple oozed out from his fingers onto the back of her hand, and she grimaced, the sensation causing her skin to go cold”), the graphic description of the decay, corruption, and stench of the apple implies that he, too, may be acting from less than noble motives.

Symbolism: gloves

Perhaps the most obvious symbolism in any Frozen fanfic dealing extensively with Elsa’s and Hans’s emotional trauma relates to their gloves. What does it mean when the characters are wearing them, or when they’re not wearing them?

These questions have been analyzed pretty thoroughly in various Tumblr posts over the years, and I don’t want to belabor the point by adding on to them. In no uncertain terms, the wearing of the gloves relates to deception, manipulation, control, and fear, while not wearing them relates to the release of inhibitions, and being one’s true self. The former is evident in Elsa’s coronation sequence in the first film (as well as in this story), as well as during the original Hans villain reveal scene. The latter is evident in the most famous sequence and song from the film, “Let It Go.”

In this story, however, the roles are somewhat reversed: where in the original film Hans wore his gloves up until he was revealed to be the “big baddie,” he doesn’t wear them at all in this fic except for in flashbacks (Chapter 1 and Chapter 9, respectively), and in the Epilogue. Meanwhile, Elsa is gloved for almost the entirety of the story, with only short instances of being ungloved (in Chapters 1, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10). Until the Epilogue, almost all of these instances occur due to her interactions with Hans; whether from pressure or curiosity or affection, she reveals her hands to him and him only, deepening their connection and her confidence in him with each new physical encounter.

Unlike the film, moreover, this story does not tie honesty to being ungloved: Hans goes the majority of the fic without them, and is lying to Elsa about his powers up until Chapter 9. Instead, he uses the seemingly improper visage of his bare hands to his advantage in gaining Elsa’s trust, showing her that he trusts her by touching her skin directly—and that she can (and should) trust him.

When Hans’s deception is revealed in Chapter 9, rather than the gloves being an obvious marker of his villainy that the reader can point to, their absence reinforces his power over Elsa. It is a literal “sleight of hand” he performs by demonstrating the extent to which he has gained control over his own powers in comparison to her, as she still struggles to maintain the veneer of “normalcy” in her day to day life. He convinces Elsa, and therefore many readers who see themselves in her character, that he was dishonest for “good” reasons; his hands, bare as before, do not hide anything from her (and us, by extension).

This is turned on its head in the Epilogue, wherein we learn, thanks to Elsa’s observation, that he is wearing his gloves again:

“You’re wearing gloves,” she observes, ignoring his question.

He stifles a swallow. “It’s the least I could do, on such an auspicious day,” he replies, struggling to keep his smile in place. “It would look odd to have bare hands for our wedding, after all.”

Suspicion flashes across her gaze at the answer, but she says nothing, looking back at the dance floor. She watches her sister with something between longing and regret, though the emotions are so fleeting that the king cannot be sure if he saw them at all.

The implication is that by putting his gloves back on, Hans has committed himself – and Elsa, who shares similar abilities – to a future of continued deception and manipulation, never revealing the truth about himself and his powers to the public. In Hans’s weak reply and Elsa’s sharp and suspicious look at him (not to mention her own, bare hands) afterwards, we can surmise that she has already realized this. In her quoting back to him the lines he once told her (““I do. But love… isn’t always good”) and rejecting his overtures of affection, we can see that she will not accept such a fate for herself.

The notion that she rejects his beliefs and worldview might have profound, if unseen, consequences for the story. Will she follow the path of her character in canon, freezing over Arendelle and retreating to her palace of ice and snow? Will she reveal her powers - and his - to the public? Will she tell Anna what really happened to them as children? The possibilities are endless, but the core message of the story is the same: the truth will always come out.

Concluding thoughts

It’s undeniable that I tend to write tragic or “angsty” stories compared to the rest of the fandom (and in particular the Hans/Elsa fandom), though I’d like to think my stories provide a space for those who are interested in exploring that darker side of the story. The purpose of the ending is not to upend what came before for the sake of “staying the course” in this genre, or playing to my strengths as a writer within it. Rather, it is to make the reader think more carefully about the nature of Hans and Elsa’s interactions, the nature of their relationship, and the nature of abuse itself, including all the insidious and subtle forms it might take.

This is not to say that the ending implies anything one way or the other, in terms of their feelings for one another. One reader might see Hans as a true “knight in shining armor” saving Elsa from the gaslighting of her past, while another might see him as gaslighting Elsa. Another might still see how they lie to each other about their beliefs and pasts, and their feelings around both, and think the relationship is doomed to fail as a result. And that is the true purpose of this story: it is meant to leave us wondering how love can survive without truth, and if the characters would ever be able to overcome their past trauma individually, much less together.

#QueenoftheAshesFrozen #frozen #frozen fanfiction #helsa #frozen symbolism #this was not intended to be so long #I just had a ton of thoughts to share #hope this is helpful for all readers #and maybe fic writers too!

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cocastyle · 5 years ago

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The In-Between Chapter 2

Stranger Things x It Crossover

with some Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 5,807

Warning - cursing? (if people don’t like that kind of stuff)

A/N - yay chapter 2! I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for all the support because it’s literally so overwhelming and I never thought this many people would like this series!! I hope you all are having a great day!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

T H E I N - B E T W E E N

Intro The Losers’ Club The Party Prologue 1 2

3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Epilogue

Y/N woke up the next morning with a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was as if her internal radar was going off, telling her that something was wrong. It reminded her of the last time she woke up feeling like that, years ago when her best friend Will Byers had been taken by a demogorgon.

Her hands were gripping onto her sheets as she slowly sat up in bed. There were obvious bags under her eyes from the little amount of sleep she got last night and her skin was still pale as could be. The only thing she could think about was what had happened last night. There was no way it was real. It couldn't be.

It took a lot of convincing to finally get herself to get up out of bed, and even then, she walked around her room hesitantly, Bill's jacket wrapped tight around her body as she looked around as if something were going to jump out and grab her.

Getting ready for the day took a lot longer than she expected. Y/N just couldn't stop herself from jumping at every single noise she heard and she kept dropping things because of how shaky her hands were. Finally she managed to get her hair up into a ponytail that didn't look like a five year old did it and she had tossed on a pale yellow dress and Bill's jacket before heading downstairs.

She was quiet at breakfast that morning, but her parents didn't question her. But if she was being honest, the concerned stares she could feel being sent in her direction were words.

Not being able to take her parents' concerned looks any longer, Y/N took one last bite of her piece of toast before putting her dishes away. She quickly kissed each her parents' cheeks in goodbye before heading out the door, not bothering to actually say goodbye or wait for a response from her parents.

At the sound of the door opening, Bill Denbrough instantly straightened up and looked down at his outfit one last time to make sure he looked decent before glancing over in Y/N's direction. Just like always, he found himself smiling a goofy grin And leaning against his bike as he looked at the girl, only this time, his face was red because of the fact that she was wearing his jacket. That she chose to wear his jacket.

Bill didn't realize just how much he was leaning against his bike until the wheel shifted and he fell over. Y/N looked up at that and her eyes widened at the sight of Bill tangled up on the ground with his bike.

"Bill?" Y/N asked in a worried tone as she hurried over to the boy. "Are you okay?"

"I-I-I'm fine," Bill assured her, his face red from embarrassment. He shyly glanced up at the girl to see her trying to hide a smile as she held her hand out for him. Bill smiled softly and took her hand before she helped him up onto his feet.

Bill stumbled a little bit as he tried to catch his footing and his breath hitched in his throat when he stumbled into Y/N, the two so close that he could feel her breath fanning his face. He felt his face heat up even more and he stared at Y/N with wide eyes.

He couldn't stop himself from admiring her, but that was when he began to notice just how disheveled she looked with her hair was just a little messier than usual, small dark circle under her eyes, her skin the palest he had ever seen, her hands shaking slightly in his grip, and the tiniest hint of fear evident in her eyes. She gave him a tiny smile and Bill could tell it was partially forced.

Bill blinked before reaching a hand up to tuck a small piece of hair behind her ear. "Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes flickering over her face as he tried to read her.

Was she not feeling well? No, that couldn't be. She wouldn't look so scared if she was sick. Had something happened? No, he had been the last one to see her last night except for her parents, but her parents didn't seem like the type that would cause their daughter to fear them.

Y/N paled even more if that was even possible and the hand that was still holding onto Bill's shook just a little bit more. "W-W-What?" She asked.

Bill frowned a little and titled his head in curiosity, wondering why she was acting so weird. "Are you okay?" He asked again.

Her mouth opened and closed for a moment before she abruptly pulled away from Bill and began to walk over to her bike. "I'm fine," she assured him before she got onto her bike. "Come on. We're going to be late if we stand here any longer and I would rather not have Richie making fun of my dumbass for being late."

Then, before Bill could say anything, Y/N had started to pedal away. Bill stood there for a moment with a confused look on his face before he shook his head and got onto his bike. It took him only a matter of seconds to catch up to the girl and even then he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Something was obviously wrong. Not only was there the fact that she looked frightened, but she had just lied to his face about them being late when she knew very well that they always got to school thirty minutes early so that they could hang out before class started. Something was bothering her and if something was bothering Y/N, then that meant it was bothering Bill too.

Bill was going to find out what was wrong one way or another, but when he did, he was going to wish that he hadn't.

- - -

Y/N was extremely quiet at school that day, so quiet in fact that even Richie was unsettled by the way she was acting. Richie had even tried cracking some jokes at lunch in an attempt to get Y/N to smile or spat some rebuttal back at him, but all she could muster was a forced unenthusiastic laugh that had the Losers' Club all looking at each other confused.

Eddie had been about to ask Y/N what was wrong, but one look from Bill had him clamping his mouth shut and turning his attention back to his lunch. Bill had seen the way Y/N blew up this morning when he had asked her what was wrong and he didn't want to know what would happen if they all ended up asking her.

Despite her mood, Y/N still agreed to go with the Losers to the quarry where they were going to meet up with Mike. However, as they rode away from school and to their usual hangout, Y/N made sure to pull towards the front of the pack and away from the others.

"Okay, what's wrong with your girlfriend?" Richie asked as he tore his gaze away from Y/N to look at Bill.

Bill reddened slightly before muttering, "She's not my girlfriend." He then looked over at Y/N and shrugged. "I don't know what's wrong. She's been this way since I met up with her this morning. I tried asking her what was wrong but all she did was blow up on me, get on her bike, and then head off to school."

"Something is obviously bothering her," Beverly said as she looked at her friend. "I saw her go into the bathroom earlier today and went to go check up on her and found her on the midst of a panic attack. She wouldn't even let me help her, just grabbed her things and said she had to get back to class before she practically ran out of there."

"Yeah, she's been acting strange all day. Some kid dropped his textbook in the library today and I swear she jumped like three feet off the ground before looking around like something was following her," Ben told them.

"You think something happened to her?" Stan asked. The others shrugged and Stan took the time to glance at Bill. "You were with her last, Bill. Did anything happen on the way home?"

"N-N-No. I just d-d-dropped her off a-a-at home," Bill replied.

"That's strange. Maybe someone should go talk to her and by someone I mean Bill," Eddie suggested, his and everyone else's eyes falling on the blushing boy.

"M-M-Me?" Bill stuttered out. "W-W-Why me?"

"Don't be a dumbass, Bill. You are obviously closer to her than we are," Beverly said.

"In more ways than one," Richie smirked as he winked at the boy.

"Beep beep, Richie," Eddie sighed in exasperation.

"S-S-She didn't want to t-t-talk to me e-e-earlier," Bill pointed out.

"If there is anyone she will want to talk to, it's going to be you," Ben assured him. "You probably just caught her off guard this morning. Go try again."

Bill bit his lip nervously as he looked back over at Y/N who was still biking ahead of them. He saw her glance back at them to make sure they were still there and the moment her eyes locked with his before she turned away was when he knew he needed to go see what was bothering her.

He didn't even respond to his friends before he began to bike a little harder in order to catch up to the girl. "Go get your girl, Bill!" Richie yelled out making everyone glare at the boy.

Bill rolled his eyes and flicked his friend off before turning his attention back to Y/N and biking over to her. He finally managed to catch up to her, but she didn't even glance his way. He was silent as he watched her and it took him a moment longer to convince himself to even open up his mouth to talk.

"I'm fine," Y/N quickly said before Bill could even get anything out. "Why wouldn't I be fine? I mean, it's not like anything happened. I'm fine." She glanced over at Bill and muttered, "I'm fine."

"Then w-w-why does it sound l-l-like you're t-t-trying to convince y-y-yourself more than me?" Bill asked.

Y/N tensed at that and her eyes flickered over to lock with Bill's. She was silent for a moment before shaking her head and looking away. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she whispered so low that he almost hadn't caught it.

"Y/N," Bill said, but the girl just shook her head.

"I. . .I don't really want to talk about it, Bill," Y/N told him, still not looking the boy in the eye. She looked up and let out a small sigh of relief when she realized they had reached their destination. "We're here anyways."

Bill didn't get a chance to say anything else as the girl hopped off her bike and looked around. "Guess Mike isn't here yet. He'll be here soon though I'm sure. Let's go ahead and jump in," She hurriedly said before she took off towards the ledge.

"Did she tell you what's wrong?" Eddie asked as the Losers all came to a stop next to the boy. Bill frowned and shook his head. "You don't think she's mad at us, do you?"

"N-N-No. I don't t-t-think that's it," Bill said as he glanced at Eddie. "She s-s-said something about h-h-how I wouldn't b-b-believe her if she t-t-told me."

The Losers' went quiet at that, confused as to what could've happened to Y/N to make her think they wouldn't believe her.

"You guys coming?" Y/N's voice called out to them, confusion evident in her voice as she tilted her head at them from where she stood by the cliff.

"Yeah, we're coming! No need to get your panties in a twist!" Richie yelled back before he hopped off his bike. He glanced over at the others and whispered, "Come on. We don't want to make her more upset."

Th others nodded in agreement and quickly ditched their bikes before heading over to Y/N. The group stripped down into their underwear in no time and Y/N gave them all her first real smile of the day before jumping off the cliff and flipping in the air.

"Show off!" Beverly yelled before she jumped off as well, the others quickly following suit.

They spent the afternoon splashing around in the water and having fun. Even Y/N managed to be her usual happy self for a while despite her previous attitude. It was only when they were all lying down in the sun a few hours later that Y/N's mood started to darken again, a feeling of dread washing over her.

"Has anyone heard from Mike?" she questioned, trying not to let her fear and worry come through when she spoke.

She must've succeeded because none of the Losers seemed put off by her question. "I know I haven't, but I'm sure he just got caught up at home," Stan told her.

"That or he's sick," Eddie suggested.

"Oh okay," Y/N said, not putting much attention into how she said those words as she pulled her legs close to her body and hugged herself. Bill was the only one that seemed to notice her change in tone and he opened his eyes and sat up before looking over at Y/N to see her shaking slightly as she nervously bit her lip.

Bill furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly shook it off as he got up and went to grab his jacket which Y/N had discarded earlier before jumping in. He then walked over to Y/N and wrapped the jacket around her before sitting down beside her.

Y/N glanced over at him and he gave her a small smile before saying, "We can go check in on him if you want."

The girl blinked in surprise, shocked that Bill had been able to figure out that she was worried for Mike especially since she hadn't told him what had happened last night. "Really?" She whispered. "You guys would do that?"

"Of course we would. I'm kind of wondering why Mike isn't here as well. He seemed fine last night," Bill pointed out.

"What? His house is on the other side of town! Why do we-" Richie began to complain, but Bill was quick to turn and kick the sunbathing boy in the side. "Fuck! Fine, we can go check on the homeschooler," he grumbled out as he held his side and glared at Bill.

"You guys are all okay with that?" Y/N asked as she looked around Bill and over at the others. The Losers almost wanted to protest for a second, but then they saw the small amount of fear in Y/N's eyes and the way she was looking at them hopefully.

A chorus of agreement came from the group and they all noticed how Y/N visibly relaxed at their words. She then glanced over at Richie who was silently pouting as he poked at his hurting side.

"Rich?" Y/N said causing the boy looking over at her in annoyance. "You don't have to come if you don't want to," she told him.

Richie softened slightly at that and let his eyes flicker over the girl's face before he let out a small sigh and laid back down. "No, I'm not a pussy so I'm going, okay? Just give me a few more minutes to work on my tan," he said.

"Tan?" Eddie scoffed. "What tan? Your paleness blinds me more than the sun." Richie sent a glare in his friend's direction and was about to respond, but Y/N's voice cut him off.

"Thanks, Richie," Y/N said as she sent a small smile in the boy's direction. Richie waved his hand at her as if it were nothing.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't go soft on me now, L/N," he said as he laid back down. Y/N just smiled and leaned against Bill who hesitantly wrapped an arm around her before resting his head on top of hers, the two staring off at the sunset in front of them in silence.

As they did this, Richie let himself steal one glance in Y/N's direction. Ever since she moved to Derry, she had become one of his best friends. Despite all the teasing and the arguments they had, the two still loved each other with all their hearts and, Richie would never admit it, but she meant a hell of a lot more to him than he would let ever let on.

The boy let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes once again before muttering under his breath, "The things I do for that girl."

- - -

"I don't get why we have to go check on him tonight. I mean, he could be knee deep in sheep guts or some shit like that," Richie complained. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing that the boy was only complaining to make it seem like he wasn't easily going along with the plan.

"Richie, could you do me a favor and shut the fuck up?" Y/N asked.

"Why don't you make me, L/N?" Richie called back with a smirk earning a small glare in his direction from the young girl.

Y/N turned her attention back to the road ahead of her and hesitated when she saw the road that she knew Mike liked to ride home on. She didn't know why she felt the need to go down that way, but she knew a part of the reason was because of what she had seen last night. She wanted to make sure that the damn house was nothing but just a damn house.

Wordlessly, Y/N turned her bike and began to ride down Neibolt Street causing the Losers to all look behind them in surprise. "L/N, you dumbass, Mike's house is this way!" Richie yelled out, but Y/N didn't respond and merely pedaled faster down the street.

Bill didn't even hesitate before turning his bike around and hurrying after the girl, softly calling out, "Y/N?"

"Bill, not you too," Stan muttered in annoyance before he followed after the boy, Beverly and Ben going with him.

"Guys, this is stupid! I'm not about to go down that fucking street!" Eddie yelled out earning a small chuckle from Richie.

"What? You too pussy, Eddie Spaghetti?" Richie asked before he began to bike after the others.

"Richie!" Eddie exclaimed, but the boy didn't listen and just ride on down the street. Taking a hit off his inhaler, the young boy watched as his friends disappeared from view as they went further down the street. "Shit," Eddie muttered with a sigh before he began to pedal after them.

Y/N didn't know what she was expecting when she approached the house, but what she had been hoping for was nothing but an empty house. She had gotten mostly what she wanted, but the thing that stood out in front of the Well House was a bike that looked to have been tossed into the bushes.

The sunlight shinning off of the metal was the only reason she had spotted it, but that was enough to have her stopping her bike almost immediately.

Not even a second passed by before Bill had pulled up beside her, his eyes looking at her in concern before he asked, "Y/N, w-w-what's going on? M-M-Mike's house is the o-o-other way."

Y/N didn't respond, her gaze frozen on the bike. Bill furrowed his eyebrows and reached out before gently placing his hand on top of Y/N's shaking one. "Y-Y-Y/N?" He whispered as he looked at her before looking up at the house in front of them.

He hadn't been looking at the house for a reason and couldn't stop himself from shuddering at the sight of the house, memories flashing through his head that had him paling slightly. Why had she stopped in front of this house of all the houses? She had wanted to find Mike, so what had changed her mind?

But then he too caught sight of the shinning metal and his breath hitched in his throat as he recognized the bike as Mike's. But why-?

"L/N! What the fuck do you think you are doing? You know what this place is right?" Richie yelled out as he pulled up beside the two. It was only when Bill turned to look at the boy that he noticed Beverly, Ben, and Stan were there as well, their eyes trained on nothing but the house before them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Eddie huffed as he stopped his bike beside Richie, his eyes trained on the house as well.

"What the hell is she doing?" Richie whisper yelled as he looked to Bill for answers. "I thought she wanted to see Mike."

Bill opened his mouth to talk, but Stan was quick to cut him off, "Woah, woah, woah. Y/N, what are you doing?"

Bill quickly whipped his head around, his eyes widening at the sight of Y/N walking onto the Well House property. Her eyes were trained on the bike in the bushes and she didn't even hesitate before pulling it out for everyone to see.

"Motherfu-" Richie began, but his voice was drowned out by Eddie freaking out and yelling, "Holy shit!"

"Mike's bike," Beverly and Ben whispered before they glanced at each other. Ben reached out and took Beverly's hand in a comforting way before they looked back at the bike that Y/N was staring at with a pale look on her face.

"Why would Mike come here?" Stan asked confused. "He hates this house as much as the rest of us. You don't think-"

"No. There's no way. There's no fucking way," Richie told him, his voice stern as he glared at his friend. "Why would you even suggest something like that? Twenty seven years, remember?"

"Richie's right. We've still got twenty four years," Eddie pointed out. "Mike's got to be messing with us."

"Messing with us? Why would he mess with us like that?" Beverly asked.

"Cause he's an asshole," Richie muttered in annoyance. He then looked to house before yelling out, "Okay, come on out, dude! This isn't fucking funny!"

The group was all silent as they looked to the house, but there was no response, only the creaking of wood as the old house settled.

A clanging noise had the Losers turning to see that Y/N had tossed Mike's bike to the ground and was running towards the house. The Losers' eyes widened and they quickly scrambled to get off of their bikes as they yelled out, "Y/N, don't go in there!"

Bill reached the girl first and, right as she was about to open the front door, he grabbed her hand before yanking her back. "W-W-What are you d-d-doing? You c-c-can't go in t-t-there!" Bill exclaimed.

"Why not? Mike's obviously in there and you guys killed It, so I don't see a problem," she told him, her eyes scanning his face as she spoke as if she was waiting for him to tell her she was wrong. There was a beat of silence before she looked over the group. "You guys did kill It, right?"

The way she asked the question told them that she wasn't going to believe them no matter what they said. This caused them to look at her curiously. "What are you talking about, Y/N?" Beverly asked.

Y/N paled slightly as she realized what she was alluding too and shook her head. "Nothing. It's nothing," she told them. "But I'm going inside, okay? You can either join me or not. I didn't give a shit."

Then, before anyone could respond, she tore her arm away from Bill, opened the front door, and disappeared inside. "Sh-Sh-Shit," Bill muttered before he hurried inside after the girl.

Y/N turned at the sound of the door opening and felt herself relax a little at the sight of Bill walking inside with the Losers all shuffling along behind him. She gave them a small smile as she allowed them to catch up to her.

Bill instantly went to her side and took her hand in his own as he laced their fingers together. The others all just filed in and the group all looked around at the old house before Y/N called out, "Mike?"

They didn't get a response and Richie let out a small groan before muttering, "I'm going to fucking kill him when we find him."

"You and me both," Stan said as the group slowly began to make their way through the house.

Y/N hadn't experienced any of the stuff the Losers has gone through with It, so she felt a little guilty for dragging them all inside when she saw the hesitant looks on their face and the way they kept glancing around like they were afraid something would jump out and grab them.

But she had to be sure that this wasn't what she though was going on. She had to be sure that Mike was okay and that this was nothing but a joke.

She had to be sure that It wasn't back, that they weren't back.

It wasn't until they had checked the whole upstairs and downstairs that the group knew where they had to go next. "Mike, this is not funny!" Eddie exclaimed as the group began to make their way down the stairs that led to the basement.

Bill's hold on Y/N's hand was tight and Y/N glanced at the boy before putting her other hand on his arm and rubbing it gently. Bill walked a little closer to her when they got into the basement. He was trying to act brave, but something about being in this house again made him feel like anything but.

The group split up into two groups as they looked around the basement, Y/N being with Bill and Stan and Beverly with Ben, Richie, and Eddie. Y/N had dragged her group over to the side with the well which probably hadn't even the smartest choice she had made that evening because the sight of the well had both Stan and Bill freezing in place, the action causing Y/N to be jerked back.

She turned to look at the boys as she felt Bill's iron grip on her hand. She followed their gazes to the well and felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. Y/N turned to look at the boys and waved her hand in front of their faces until they looked to her.

Stan blinked at Y/N before turning and saying, "I'll look over here." With that, the boy had scurried away leaving Bill and Y/N standing together by the well.

Y/N was silent as she looked to Bill before asking, "You okay?"

Bill glanced up at the girl and gave her a look before saying, "You tell me the truth as to why we are here first and I'll answer your question."

Y/N frowned at that, but luckily for her she wouldn't have to respond because Eddie was suddenly yelling, "Guys, I think we found something!"

Stan was by their side within seconds and the three made their way across the basement and get to the side that the others had been checking out. Y/N had really been hoping that the events that had taken place last night were fake, but as soon as she caught sight of what Eddie was talking about, she knew how wrong she was.

On the wall in front of the Losers was what looked to be a huge line of goo that pulsed and was glowing with different colors. Y/N paled at the sight, her skin so white that she could've been mistaken for a ghost.

"What the fuck is that?" Stan asked confused as he took a step closer.

"I don't know," Richie whispered. He then looked to Stan in excitement. "It's cool, right?"

"Guys," Y/N whispered, her voice so low because of her fright that no one heard her.

Eddie looked at his best friend in disgust. "No, Richie, it is not cool. It's like a giant mosh pit for bacteria," he muttered.

"I'll give you ten dollars if you touch it," Richie said.

"Are you kidding me, there's no way in hell I'm going to. . .did you say ten bucks?" Eddie asked.

"Guys," Y/N said again, this time her voice being louder but none of the Losers registering that she was trying to get their attention.

"N-N-No one's touching t-t-that," Bill told them as he walked up and pulled Richie and Eddie away from the thing on the wall. "W-W-We don't even k-k-know what it i-i-is."

"Guys!" Y/N exclaimed finally catching the attention of the others. The Losers all turned to the girl, but their smiles dropped at the sight of her pale face and shaking form.

"We have to get out here," she whispered, her voice shaking as she looked at them worriedly.

Richie let out a sigh and turned his body towards her. "What are you talking about, L/N? We-" however, his voice got cut off by something suddenly shooting out from the goo.

This caused a chorus of high pitched screams to escape the Losers' mouths as they all stared at the hand that was coming out of the goo. "Run!" Y/N yelled as she began to shove her friends away from the goo and towards the stairs.

"What the fuck! What the fuck!" Eddie yelled as he scrambled away from the hand and over to Y/N, the two being the ones at the end of the pack. Bill, Richie Beverly, Ben, and Stan were already making their way up the stairs, but Eddie and Y/N had frozen at the sight of something walking out of the goo.

Now it was Eddie's turn to panic as he caught sight of the creature that he hadn't seen in three years, Pennywise. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Eddie yelled as he grabbed onto Y/N's hand and began to sprint up the stairs.

"Awe, come on, Eddie! I thought we were friends," Pennywise taunted as he began to follow after the two.

"Fucking hell! Is that-?" Y/N heard Richie say from the top of the staircase, but he was cut off by Beverly yelling, "Eddie, Y/N, run!"

Y/N glanced back and her eyes widened at the sight of the clown running up the stairs after them at an inhuman-like pace. "Eddie!" Y/N screamed as she held tightly onto her friend's hand.

Eddie glanced back and his eyes widened before he pulled the two up the last of the stairs and through the door. Beverly and Ben quickly slammed the door shut behind them while Richie and Bill helped Eddie and Y/N onto their feet.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" Stan yelled from the front door which he was holding open for them. The Losers' all scrambled towards the doorway and had just run out when Pennywise broke down the basement door.

The group all let out screams as they ran down the sidewalk and to their bikes. They were on them and riding down the street within a matter of seconds and Y/N, being the last one, managed to just barely miss Pennywise's outstretched hand as she pedaled away from the house.

They made it half way down the street before Y/N glanced back to see that Pennywise was glaring at her from the yard. She managed to see him walk back into the house before the Losers were all turning the corner.

They didn't stop biking until they knew they were a safe distance away. And it was only then that they stopped their bikes and collapsed to the ground in a panting mess.

"You fucking believe me now, L/N?" Richie asked, referring to Y/N 'not believing him.' Y/N didn't respond and the group all turned to look at her only to find that she was shaking rapidly as tears streamed down her face.

The group all sat up in alarm and Eddie was quick to whack Richie and throw a glare in the boy's direction. They believe this to be the first time Y/N had ever seen It, but what they didn't realize was that she had an encounter with the clown the night before.

Bill made his way over to the girl and was going to comfort her, but she just shook her head and got up onto her feet. "We. . .we need help," she told them as she tried to catch her breath.

The Losers went to object, but Y/N shook her head. "You don't get it! This is bigger than that fucking clown, guys! That thing it came out of, that's something I know about and where that leads is somewhere no one wants to go. If Mike is in there. . ." She trailed off and it was in that moment that the group felt a true sense of fear and dread wash over them.

"We're going to need some help."

"From who?" Richie asked as he and the others pulled themselves up onto their feet. "The police in our town don't do shit!"

Y/N was silent as she looked at her friends, but the moment she glanced at Bill, he knew what she was suggesting. When she said she knew what the thing on the wall was, she was being serious. Pennywise may be something they know about, but the goo and whatever was behind it, that was something that Y/N knew about, something that Hawkins knew about.

Y/N picked up her bike and got on before looking to her friends. She was still visibly shaken, but not once did she look scared as she spoke.

"I think it's time I called my friends down in Hawkins, don't you think?"

* * *

Tag-List

@witch-of-all-things-soft @nightbu-g

@vickeystar @daniellajocelyn

@alexthe80swhore @ren-ni

@floralpiper @starshininginthedark

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@madelinelikesfics @pheonix-nin

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