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nexysworld · 8 months

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Chapter Summary: You wake up dazed and confused, no memory of anything he was saying. But it's Leon, and you can trust him right? Besides, maybe a vacation is exactly what you needed. Pairing: Yandere!RE4R Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn. Psychological manipulation, abuse of power, etc. no use of y/n. PTSD, flashbacks. There is smut this chapter. WC: 9.5k

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It’d been a long time since you had such a good night's sleep, not even realizing the way you conked out completely on top of Leon. The even sound of his heartbeat in your ear – ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump – lulled you like the world’s best white noise machine. His warmth was comforting in a way no space heater could be. The smell of his fresh and spicy cologne was familiar. The combination was killer and before you knew it, not even the rumbling in your stomach was enough to keep you awake on top of him. It was reminiscent of the nights you’d spent in his apartment all those weeks ago after everything happened. Leon was your comfort, he was your safe space. After speaking with Dr. Birkin, while still not fully having come to terms with things, you were at least able to get rid of the guilt and lean into the man under you – leaving you weightless, at least for the moment.

When you woke, it was due to the feeling of wind on your face, cold air stinging at your nose. The feeling of confinement made you panic, gasping as you clawed around until you realized you were no longer on your couch, but Leon’s jeep.

“You good?” He asked, looking over to you. You were too busy looking around in confusion, panting as you tried to calm down. “Yeah I’m just… I’m confused.” “Confused about what?” He asked, cooly flipping on the blinker, his free hand making its way over to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We were on the couch, and now I’m in the car. What happened?” “That was this morning, don’t you remember?” You shook your head. “No, no I –” “Hey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You’re probably just tired.”

It was dark out, definitely well into the middle of the night if you had to guess. The only lights were the high beams of his jeep and the overhead moon — no familiarity of the city. Just thick trees and empty grass fields every now and then. If Leon hadn’t been with you, heavy hand on your leg, you’d have panicked from sheer lack of awareness. The sound of his voice cleared your head. “I honestly thought you’d have been out longer.” “I don’t understand.” You paused for a moment, fidgeting with the soft knit sleeves of your sweater — you hadn’t remembered changing clothes either. “We fell asleep on my couch after ordering food. I don’t remember anything after that . . . but I don’t get why I was tired again if we slept. Where are we even going? Leon, I’m really confused right now.” “Hey, hey. It’s alright.” He cooed, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to gently pry your own from its fidgeting, kissing your knuckles gently. “Relax.” “That doesn’t answer—“ “I’m getting to that.” He assured, laying your hand back onto your lap with his on top. Whatever road you were on was long and winding, barely even speed signs posted throughout. “Sometimes people are just tired, it happens. After we woke up we ate the leftover food, you were talking about stress. I said you needed to relax, I suggested we go on a trip, away from it all for a change.” An odd uneasiness washed over you at his words. “I don’t remember any of that.” Flashbacks were coming to you the more you saw the pathway, the drive out to the camping spot with Derek, what came next. ‘That wasn’t real. That wasn’t real.’ You tensed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “We’re not going camping right?” “No. No, of course not!” “Where are we going then?” “To an old farmhouse.” He said casually. “It’s actually mine. Was left to me by someone I guess I’d consider my adopted father when he passed away. It’s old, but the land is beautiful, there’s tons of cute critters you can see too. Hey, you alright?” “I don’t know. I guess I’m just held up on the fact that I don’t remember any of this.” “Well you know, gaps in memory are a thing. That’s what the Doctor said, right?” “Yeah I guess, but this just feels so immediate. I mean — my job requires two weeks notice. It just doesn’t sound like me to do something so abrupt.” “I took care of it.” “What?” “Your job, I took care of it for you. You brought that up as your first concern. And then your meeting with Doctor Barkin. I have you covered on both fronts, he can do virtual sessions.” “Oh. Ok.” A thick silence overcame you both as you settled back into the carseat, rubbing at your tired eyes. “What about Mrs. Wilson?” “What about her?” “I was still checking in on her when I could…even after…you know…when my leg was hurt. At least I tried to.” Truthfully it had only been a few times over the course of those weeks that you managed to make it over to the old woman’s apartment. But you did call more often to check-in, ordered groceries and other items she needed. “Don’t worry about that either.” “You sure?” “Yeah. I promise, I have everything taken care of. All you need to do is relax, rest. It’ll be alright.” “Ok.” What else could you say? It felt strange, the whole situation felt strange, but everything always did. There was no point in questioning him further or arguing, so you instead focused on the drive, sitting quietly in your seat.

“We’re almost there.” He added, breaking the tension. “Maybe 30 more minutes at most.”

You nodded in response, returning to leaning against the doorframe watching the scenery pass by. The road had narrowed out into an open field, the pavement replaced by a dirt road that expanded farther out than you could see past the headlights. It felt eerie in an existential way, the expanse of field, being the only two alone on the empty road. It made you feel small and uneasy. True to his word, no more than 30 minutes later, the dirt road narrowed further into a tight path of trees with only enough room for one vehicle to pass. The dark tube of greenery opened up to reveal the house, just as Leon described. An old fashioned farm house — two stories with a gigantic wrap around deck. In the dim light it was hard to make out much more detail than that. “Here we are.”

The inside was nicer than expected — but then given the upgrades Leon had made to his apartment, maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The plush sectional in the living room was huge, followed by a large TV mounted to the wall. Unlike his apartment there was more decor hung to the walls, little knick knacks scattered around. The place looked nice, lived in.

You felt his arm wrap around you from behind, gently corralling you towards the staircase. Opposite of the stairs was a door, it looked different from the others you’d seen so far, too sturdy looking. A keypad type lock was above the hook-styled doorknob. “That’s fancy.” You pointed out as you let him guide you further up the stairs. “Oh yeah – I keep some work equipment down there.” He replied quickly, his other hand adjusting to lift the bags he was carrying, ensuring they didn’t smack the stairs as he went. The top floor plan was simple, two bedrooms, a large open area that connected to an upstairs balcony, and of course a bathroom. The bedroom was different, less modern than the setup of the downstairs. It was like it was ripped out of a vintage magazine, a fancy blue duvet set and a sturdy dark wood bed frame holding the king sized bed all together. No closet to be seen, but there was a matching dresser and wardrobe set. It was cozy.

You followed Leon’s lead, setting your phone on the nightstand before unpacking your things.

“You hungry?” He asked, folding the last of his things into the dresser drawer. “A little, yeah.”

“I can do breakfast for dinner. Tomorrow we can go to the store to get some actual groceries.” “Sounds good to me.”

You followed him back downstairs, leaning against the island, watching as he flicked on the burner to heat up the pan. The smokey scent of bacon and the popping sizzle of grease filled the kitchen, making your stomach rumble. It felt domestic in a nice way, normal. You watched his broad shoulders from behind as he focused on cooking. You had the urge to hug him from behind, press a kiss to his back – you didn’t act on it though.

The relationship between you was still strange, you weren’t able to put a label on it. Whatever the two of you were was trapped in some liminal space between couple, friends, and caretaker. It made you freeze before initiating on your end, even if you’d never deny it when he does it. To not have to deal with the feelings, you chose to take a better look around while you waited. Circling the living room a few times, running your hand over the soft fabric of the couch, before swinging around through the french doors into what looked like a sunroom repurposed into a library. The walls were covered in large bookshelves, each filled. Most were encyclopedias, college textbooks, science books for things you didn’t quite understand. There was a desk in the corner, an older looking laptop caked in dust sat on it.

Nothing was really interesting to look at, you were going to return to Leon when you noticed an open shoebox settled on one of the shelves, almost missing it as it sat atop some shorter books. It felt like snooping, but your curiosity got the better of you, pulling it down to peek. It didn’t have a lot, some documents with a few pictures scattered.

The first was an image of a younger looking Leon, same cropped hair and smile, but with far more boyish features. He was standing next to a stern looking man in a police uniform. Leon was holding what looked like a diploma of some kind. The next was a much more recent photo, dated for only a few months before you and Leon had even met. He was wearing that suit you saw him pack for work. “Oh shit –” You muttered to yourself, noting the girl standing next to him. “Ashley Graham?” It made sense, he worked for the government, but still, the president’s daughter? It seemed more than professional, the way he smiled at her, hand on his shoulder.

You went to toss both images back into the box when you realized that the first had another stuck to it. It was just a picture of a girl, brown hair pulled over her shoulder as she looked off into the distance, sitting on a bench. There was nothing really noteworthy about it, no label or date either.

“What are you doing?” Leon’s voice nearly made you jump out of your skin, seeing him standing in the doorway. “Sorry, I was just looking.” “Where’d you get those?” “They were just in this box, sorry, I shouldn’t have looked without asking.” He took the photos from your hand eyeing them before tossing them back into the box for you. “It’s fine. I thought I’d tossed them all anyway.” He said, chucking the whole box into the trash on his way back to the kitchen. “Why’d you do that?”

“They’re just memories I’d rather not remember.” He said coolly as he set the plated food out on the kitchen island.

“I can respect that.” You replied, not questioning him further. If there was anything you understood, it would be wanting to rid yourself of certain memories – though his were real pieces of his life.

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

The following morning started off rough. Out of habit you went to grab your phone off the nightstand the moment your eyes cracked open – yet all you felt was the hard wood of the table. You slapped your hand around a few times, still not feeling it. By the time Leon had woken up, you were buried into the wardrobe, digging into pockets of your own clothing, searching the bags too. “What’s up?” He asked with a yawn, scratching the side of his head. Parts of his hair stuck up a little unkempt from sleeping. You frowned at him, shutting the wardrobe’s doors. “I can’t find my phone. I had it last night.” He nodded at you, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. “You sure? I don’t remember seeing it.” “Leon don’t… don’t say that please.”

“Ok, ok. Let me call it.” He plucked his own phone up, you could hear the quiet dial tone and ringing through his speaker, but no vibration or ringing anywhere else in the room. You chewed your lip out of frustration, tapping your foot on the ground. He rested his hands on your shoulders giving them a light squeeze. “Look, it’s almost time for your appointment with Dr. Birkin. Why don’t you focus on that and I’ll look for it?” “Well how am I supposed to even go to said appointment witho–” “I got you covered.” He said, placing a quick kiss to your temple. “Laptop downstairs, already logged in. Set it up last night.”

“Alright.” You conceded, not having much choice in the matter anyway.

The appointment itself was standard. You talked about your feelings, he asked questions here and there. You answered. It didn’t feel nearly as emotionally heavy this time as before, and if anything you left feeling better having spoken about things again. It was also another sobering reminder of how much you needed Leon – how out of it you’d be without him.

Stretching from the hour of sitting in an office chair, Leon knocked on the door frame to get your attention before making his way to you. “How did it go?” “It went well.” “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Did you ever find my phone?” “Unfortunately not, I checked everywhere, including the jeep.” “I guess I must’ve left it at home.”

“One less distraction from your mini vacation.” “Mmmm true.” You conceded, following him out the library. “You still need company for that trip to the store?” “Would be lonely going alone. Might even get lost in one of the aisles.” He said with that signature smirk of his.

You couldn’t help but laugh in return. “Can’t let that happen.” The air outside was a little nippy, not wanting to change you asked if you could borrow a jacket. He pointed you to the hall closet, the one just inside the front door. You prodded around, there were several of what you assumed were Leon’s hanging up. A leather one with white stripes on the arms had your interest, you almost grabbed it when you saw a different one next to it. The bright red color caught your eye as you moved to pull it off of the hanger. It was smaller than the others, a woman’s styled leather jacket. You wondered for a moment why he would have something like that – an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy sparking up for a moment, you pushed it away telling yourself it didn’t matter. You slid the jacket on, fitting like a glove. It still had the lingering scent of perfume on it, one you recognized as your own. Not lingering to think about the situation further, you ran back out to the jeep. “There you are. Took so long I was starting to think you got lost in there.” When Leon lifted his head from the radio to look at you, his expression changed entirely, posture stiffening up like a cat. “Yeah, almost found my way to Narnia.” You joked, settling into the carseat. “Why are you wearing that?” His voice was sharp, sounding like some kind of accusation, not a question. “Well all I found were heavy winter coats and leather jackets. I saw this and thought it would be a better fit.” His knuckles turned white as he grasped onto the steering wheel, vision straight ahead at the house. He held his breath in for a moment, like a cartoon character about to pop and let steam out of their ears. “That belongs to her, it isn’t for you to wear.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Immediately you were on edge, swallowing down that nervous dryness in your throat. “I’m sorry – “ “Take it off.” “Right, I can go grab another —” “No, give it to me.” He said, putting his hand out expectantly.

Not wanting to argue with him, and more confused than anything, you quickly unzipped the jacket, sliding it off and handing it to him. Shuddering a little from the cold breeze hitting you now. He took it, tossing it into the back seat, his other hand still glued to the wheel, squeezing it tightly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” “I think it’s best if you stay here.” “But Leon “ “Out of the car!” He snapped, this time pointing back to the house. The sound of his voice made you jump in your seat, scrambling to open the door and step out onto the grassy ground. The moment the jeep’s door was shut, he was backing away so loud the tires whirred loudly, kicking up some of the dirt on the ground as he spun it around and took off down the road, leaving you where you stood, some mud specks on your face. It reminded you of the movie theaters, getting left there out in the cold. The hurt and anxiety you felt after. But this was really happening, and you had no idea why. Standing there for a few seconds, like a lost child, you looked around taking in the place now in the view of sunlight. The dark trees that wrapped around the property danced in the wind. The house itself is more visible, the wooden exterior plated over itself, white painting chipping from the sides. You moved to stand on the wrap-around patio, following it around the house and towards the back yard to get a better view of the property you couldn’t see in the shadows of the previous night.

There wasn’t much to see from where you stood. A small garden in the back that hadn’t been maintained in sometime from the wild weeds and flowers that were scattered about. A decorative white fence latticed in vines and other foliage wrapped around the backyard, separating that section of land from the rest. Your standard hammock like bench-swing swung idly in the wind on the back part of the patio.

With nothing more to see and the chill of the outside creeping up again, you made your way back inside, relishing in the warmth of the house. Not sure how long you decided to stay outside, or even what time it was, instinctively you reached for your phone, patting at your pocket before remembering that it wasn’t with you. ‘Shit.’ You cursed inwardly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Without Leon around, the house felt huge. It occurred to you that you were really all alone out in the middle of nowhere. No vehicle, no Leon, and not even a phone. It made your spine tingle, you squirmed a bit in place to get the feeling to go away before deciding to flop onto the couch.

‘I don’t get why he’s so upset. I would’ve just changed.’ You thought to yourself, mindlessly flipping through streaming apps. ‘Who is she anyway?’ The thought of Leon being angry with you made you want to cry. You didn’t though – managing to keep it together enough to idly watch some stupid show.

You hadn’t really paid attention to how many episodes you watched or how much time had passed. The soft rumbling of your stomach was the only other indicator that it had been awhile. As if on cue, you could hear the familiar sound of the jeep’s engine outside, whirring to a stop. Next came the inevitable footsteps on the porch, followed by the door opening.

Like a puppy, you bounded from the couch over to the sound, careful to get too close, scared he was still upset with you. There he was, hair slicked back slightly, multiple bags of groceries dangling on each arm. “Is that all of them, I can help –” “I got it.” He said flatly. The words cut you, deflated you. “Oh, ok.” You heeled back a bit, not moving from your spot. ‘So he is still mad.’ Tearing your eyes off of him, you looked down at the floor, fidgeting with your hands as you worked up to the courage to do or say something. The consideration to return to the couch won and you scurried back to sit and go back to your show.

A while later, the smell of food filled your nose, and a plate was held before you. Your eyes trailed up the muscular arm to meet Leon’s gaze as you took it from him. “Thank you…and hey look about earlier, I’m sorry.”

He sat next to you on the couch, his entire posture more relaxed than earlier. Setting his own plate down on the coffee table, and leaned back, one arm slung casually over the back of the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s over with.” You nodded, taking a small bite of the pasta you twirled up on your fork. The silence lingering over the both of you made you feel heavy. Against your better judgment, you looked over to him and prodded. “Can I ask who she was?” He looked a little short circuited as he processed the question, like he was deciding what the right answer was. “An ex.” “Oh.” “Let’s just say things didn’t end on good terms. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “Right, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before grabbing his plate to eat himself. “You know.” He added, “It’s still early enough in the day. I was thinking we should still get out of the house.” “Sure. Did you have something in mind?” “Yeah, a surprise.” He added with a big smirk. You couldn’t help but match his smile, the corners of your mouth tugging up instinctively. “Sounds good.”

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

It was the late afternoon, nearly early evening when you found yourself out by the lake. There was a small dirt path that led from the backyard and down through the woods. It had opened up to a small clearing by the water, some crude seating and a stone-campfire set up already there.

Initially there was trepidation on your part, worried that the site of the woods might stir some of those bad memories up. He managed to convince you though, promising to take you back the moment you became uncomfortable if you wanted.

So far things were ok. The last of the warm sun beat down onto your back as you laid out on the soft towel beneath you. It was refreshing and relaxing – it’d been so long since you’d had that full sense of pure normalcy and relief. Arms crossed under your head, you watched Leon as waded through the shallower part of the water. He stopped when the water landed just below his navel, looking out towards the trees behind you.

Your eyes ran from the dusty blonde happy trail upwards, over his abs and to his pecs, before finally landing on his eyes. The way the warm tones of the sunset casted down onto him, made him look beautiful, like he belonged in a painting. The blonde in his hair was contrasted by the different shades of purple and orange that lit his right side. Before the light of the day was finally gone, you wanted to get closer – see if it did wonders for the pools of blue in his eyes.

Stretching out like a cat, you languidly crawled to your feet, wading into the cool water. A slight hiss escaped you at the abrupt change in temperature, but you continued forward until you reached him. “Well hello there.” He looked down at you running his wet thumb over your collar bone slightly. “Almost thought you were sleeping over there.” “Almost was.” You confirmed. “But that was before I realized there was a view to admire.” This moment felt familiar, safe.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the lake?” That damn smirk again, got you every time. Your theory was right too, the specks and hues of blue stood out under his thick eyelashes as he looked down at you. He was gorgeous. So very Leon. “Well maybe that’s because I’m not.” Placing a hand on his chest, you moved a little closer to him.

“You’re not talkin’ about me are you?” “I just might be.” Leaning real close, you nearly stood on your tip toes, lips so close you could feel his breath gently fanning your face. You could see what he was expecting as his lips twitched. Unfortunately for him you broke the tension by splashing some water on him, your own smile twisting into an amused smirk. “You play dirty.” He accused, splashing back at you. “Get back over here coward.” He said playfully, following you as you cowered back to shore to avoid his onslaught of water, stopping every now and then to launch a counter attack.

Your back hit the soft sand of the shore, him on top of you, elbows on either side of your head. You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy exchange, genuine happiness rumbling in your chest. “Very cute, sweetheart.” “I’d like to think so.”

Again you were close, face to face, but it was his turn to deny you. He pushed himself up and out of the water. “It’ll be dark soon. You want to go back?” Pondering the question for a moment, you shook your head. “Not yet. I’m having a good time.” “Glad to hear it.” Digging around through the bag he’d brought out with the both of you, he pulled out a zippo lighter and some bundle of what almost looked like tumbleweed tied together. He held the small flame to the fire starter before tossing it into the bundle of wood that had been left in the fire pit.

Everything was fine at first until the licking flames picked up intensity, the entirety of the pit filling with the dancing orange and yellow lights – high enough for the heat of the flame to slap against your face. A tightness in your chest formed, freezing you in place like a statue. Your throat dried and contracted like trying to breath in dust.

“My head. It’s splitting my head.” Your head turned side to side, scanning for the source of the voice. The world around you black besides the flames.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”

The words were so loud it was like a flashbang against your ears, brain rattling in your head. You couldn’t focus on anything, the hazy colors before your eyes turning into a kaleidoscope from the water forming in your eyes. “IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”

You couldn’t breathe at all now, gasping desperately for air. Every time you blinked a shadowy figure moved in the fire, a tentacle-like outline whipped about above it. ‘Leon. Leon please I’m scared.’ You couldn’t get the words to vocalize out of your mouth, trapped in your throat.

“Sweetheart?” Leon’s voice whispered in your ear, two large arms snaking around you from behind to hold you close. “It’s ok. Breathe baby.” He cooed. You squeezed your eyes shut, gulping down as much air as you could. “There you go. There you go.” You did it a second time, and a third, until your breathing evened out and you could ground yourself where you stood. The heat of his torso was pressed against your back, the weighted feelings of his arms. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

When you dared to crack your eyes open again, the world was normal. No shadowy blackness, no bleak figure, just the fire crackling in front of you. The trees swishing back and forth, lit up by the twinkling stars and moon, sun having fully set. And of course, Leon. You spun in his arms, wrapping your own around him, he tightened the hug holding you close. “God I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I….god.” “Shhh. Shhhh.” He rubbed your back softly. “Why don’t we head back?” “No!” You snapped, looking up at him. “No, I don’t want to go back yet.” He flashed you a confused look, opening to say something, but you cut him off. “Please. I was having such a good time. I’m sick of being crazy. I…it was just one incident. I don’t want to go yet.” “Ok.” He agreed. “Ok, we won’t go yet.” Conceding his tucked some of your hair behind your ear again, clearly still concerned, but not pushing it.

You plopped down onto the towel, facing the fire. No more threatening images for the time being. The two of you sat in silence, his hand over yours on the ground. It took a while for your heart rate to fully go back to normal, for the feeling of being on edge to fully dissipate, but once it did you felt like you were floating, just sitting next to him – like his hand was an anchor and without it you’d just drift away into the vast emptiness of the sky. You didn’t deserve him but God you were sure you loved him – the first time you could admit it even inside your own thoughts. It was freeing. No guilt or shame attached, just the gooey feeling of contentment.

“Leon?” “Hmm?” “Thank you. For all of this.” “Don’t mention it.” “I mean it.” “I know.” He lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “I like you.” He let out a soft chuckle against your knuckles. “Well geez, I’d hope so. I like you too.”

It felt a little pathetic to announce yourself that way. “Can I ask you something?” “Shoot.” “What are we?”

He looked up to meet your gaze, his expression soft but serious. You watched Adam's apple flex as he swallowed nothing, analyzing the question. “What do you want us to be?” “Maybe more than friends?” You offered a non-absolute answer, nervous of any true rejection. “I think we already are more than friends.” “Well yeah, true.” You tapered the conversation off, not brave enough to ask for more definitives just yet.

He dropped your hand in favor of scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you onto his lap. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling.” “Why are you so perfect?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you slunk your arms around his shoulders. “Far from it, actually.” “Disagree. God I disagree.” His retort stopped dead when you blurted out the next words so quickly they shocked even yourself. “I think I love you.” You’re not sure you’d even seen him with such a deer in the headlights expression on his face before, it made you feel the urge to backtrack, suck the words right back in. “I’m sorr –” He pressed his lips against yours, silencing any apology. Your heart skipped a beat, blood feeling boiling hot each time it pumped through you. You returned the kiss this time, softly, slowly. It wasn’t like the quick passion at his apartment. “Can I have you?” You whispered into his neck, kissing at his pulse. “I’m already yours.” You responded by nipping at that same spot. “Take me?”

He sucked in a breath at the sensation, squeezing you a little tighter to him. You could feel his cock twitch in his swim shorts. “Are you sure?” His voice was low. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again, move too fast.”

“I’m sure this time. Very sure. Please, I just want you.”

He pulled you back from him just enough to scan your face, giving you one more moment to back out. When you didn’t say anything else, he kissed you again, this time leaning forward with you until you were laying on your back. His lips were as soft and plush as you remembered them, making you want more. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He asked, mouthing more kisses along your neck and chest. He made quick work of your bathing suit top, sliding the straps out of their tied knot and tossing it gently to the side. Arousal mixed with the light breeze blowing the warmth of the fire past you made your nipples perk up, sensitive as ever. It didn’t go unnoticed by him as he took the opportunity to run his tongue along your collarbone before following down the center of your chest. The trail of saliva left behind drying in the outside air making your skin tingle in the best possible way.

He pressed another kiss to the side of your right breast before he teased your nipple, flicking it with licks of his tongue a few times before sucking it into his mouth. The sensation made you squirm beneath him, thighs squeezing together around his leg that was planted between them. By the time he’d moved on to your other tit, you were rubbing yourself against his leg for some relief. He chuckled, popping off with a smile. “So needy baby. Must’ve been pent up these last few months.” “Mhmm” You nodded, eyes already hazed over with lust, mind empty of any critical thought. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good. Scouts honor.” He punctuated the sentence by moving down to nip at your hip making you buck up a little. Amused by the reaction he did it again, this time on the plushness of your inner thigh while he worked the ties of your bottoms off as well, discarding them with the top. He returned to what he was doing, this time sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Then another, each one a pleasurably dull kind of pain. He flattened his tongue to each one, helping soothe out the pain. “Purple’s really your color baby.” He cooed, admiring his work.

Your clit throbbed with need, hole begging for attention. He rested one hand on your hip, rubbing soft circles into it as he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to your mound, another on the opposing thigh. “Leon.” You whined. “Please I need more.” “I know, I know. I’m getting there sweetheart. Just wanna take my time, been imagining this for so long.” He rewarded your please by dragging the tip of his tongue down before flattening it against your clit, lapping at it gently. The sugary heat radiated out as you moaned, fingers working their way into his soft hair, gripping at it.

It should’ve been no surprise Leon was good with his mouth, circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue before sucking on it gently. You’re not sure you’d ever had a lover so attentive before, not even in your false memories. “F-fuck, so good.” You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the pleasure he was giving you. You felt him sink a digit into your slicked pussy. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than the nothing that was there before. He added another finger, pumping them as he worked your clit with his tongue.

He curled his thick fingers just right, reaching that special spot inside of you. The one that made your legs tense, clit pulse. What blood was left in your head soared to your lower half, a weak gasp escaping your mouth as you came. Your legs trembled around his head, thighs clamping shut, you’d almost be worried about crushing him if you were capable of thought. He continued to gently work you, not enough to overstimulate, but the perfect amount to draw out that pleasure until it faded to just tingles at the tips of your toes.

You were left breathless, panting as he pulled away, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand. Your eyes landed on the now fully formed tent in his shorts, expecting him to move to get it out, to fuck you into the ground. Instead, he leans back on his legs, looks down at you. The silence feels strange, and you're suddenly reminded of your location – outdoors – as the crickets pick up their chirping, the leaves of the trees crash into each other from the wind. You shiver from the breeze, until it blows in the opposite direction, sending a wave of heat from the campfire washing over you. When he still doesn’t move, you quickly become self conscious, scared that he was changing his mind. Worry takes over your face as you prop yourself up on your elbows, before you can say it, he leans down to kiss you again. This time he makes a point to slip his tongue into it, letting you taste yourself on him. He wraps his arm around you, holding your head in place to kiss you sloppily. He grinds against you slightly, groaning into the kiss when he does. “Don’t worry princess. I just needed to take a moment after that. Was too good, so perfect, had to take it in.” He knew you so well. “Want you.” You mumbled against his lips. “Want you in me, wanna feel you. Wanna be close.” “I know.” He said, reaching his hand down between you both to undo the drawstring of his shorts. He tugged them down just enough to free his erection, thick and throbbing. You couldn’t see it perfectly in the deep shadows that the fire made, but you could feel it. He ran the head along your slit a few times. “Can tell how bad you want me, she’s practically crying for me.”

You suck in a breath at his words, feeling arousal begin to twinge between your legs again. He gently pushed the tip into your soaking folds, the stretch stinging slightly despite his earlier actions. “Oh.” You gasped as he pressed each inch slowly into you. You’d never felt so full before, like he was in your ribs – it was overwhelming and comforting at the same time. “O-oh.” You moaned, feeling him pull out again, grasping up at his shoulders.

He gave a few more slow but deep thrusts, giving you the chance to adjust and accommodate him. “That’s it baby, so tight.” He flattened his palm against your belly, pressing down making the full feeling intensify. Your back arched into his palm, adding to the sensation. “S’big.” You whined. “Mhmm. Just relax, you’re doing such a good job. Already taking me so well.” He readjusted your position, leaning forward and pulling your legs up at the same time to hook over his shoulders. The shift made him feel even deeper inside of you, head of his cock pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

You didn’t even know you were this flexible when he practically folded you in half while he fucked himself into you, making sure he was close enough to pepper your face with small kisses when given the opportunity. You heard him mumbling sweet compliments between his increasingly erratic breathing, but you were too blissed out to even register the words. “God….god…oh my god!” You squeezed the towel beneath you,, bunching it within your fists as he continued to roll his hips against you, wiry blond hair and his pubic bone bumping into your clit as his cock rubbed past that spongy spot, more sensitive now from your first orgasm. “That’s my girl.” He sped up his pace, the sound of skin slapping mixing with the cackle of the fire as you moved from death-gripping the towel to clawing at his back, desperate for your next release, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “My pretty Bunny.”

The pet name clicked something in your brain, and you lost yourself again, muscles tensing velvety walls tightening around his impossibly big cock as you came again. His own eyes closed, a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to between your breasts, his own quiet noises picking up in volume, his pace erratic as he chased his own high this time. Pulsing with the aftershocks of your second orgasm, you could feel as he throbbed within you, painting your inside white with his hot seed. Half asleep and sated, you let out a noise of disappointment when he finally pulled out, wanting to stay as close as you could to him. As if he could read your mind, he immediately pulled you into his embrace, rubbing his hand against your stomach as he spooned you from behind.

The visual of the campfire became blurry the heavier your eyelids grew, and it wasn’t long until you were out like a light, curled against him.

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

You woke up some time later, scrunched up in bed. It was still dark out when you sat up to rub your eyes and yawn. You didn’t remember the journey back but you weren’t surprised Leon had managed that, likely carrying you back in your sleep. If not for your dry throat and desperate need for a glass of water, you’d have flopped right back down to resume your unconsciousness.

Instead, you pushed your legs over the side of the bed, still a little wobbly and exhausted. In your half asleep state it took you an extra minute to register the fact that Leon hadn’t been next to you. “S’weird.” You muttered to yourself, sluggishly moving towards the door and down the hallway. The house was dark, no light to be seen, not even from the bathroom – which you noted was open, no Leon inside. As you took a few steps down the staircase, you could see from above the living room was also dark and silent, not even the TV’s screensaver was on, and the only light emanating from the kitchen was the small light above the stove.

A more awake version of yourself would’ve been a little more worried with his whereabouts, but for now you only had one mission – water. The moment the tap finished filling up the glass cup, you gulped it down, and then another. Soothing the cottony feeling in your mouth and the soreness of your throat.

Relieved and quenched, you exited the kitchen heading back to bed. Though still tired, you were slightly more alert now, rubbing at your eyes again while you walked. Passing the double doors to the library room, you heard Leon’s voice, and it stopped you in your tracks. “I miss you.” “Huh?” The words caught your attention instantly. One of the double french doors was cracked enough that you could peer through without much effort. While the initial reaction had been jealousy, the fear he was talking to another woman on the phone, you were left dumbfounded by the reality. He was sitting at the desk, the red jacket in his hands as he spoke. “You know I didn’t want things to end this way. I thought you were perfect for me. We could’ve been so great together.” He brought the jacket to his face, taking in a deep inhale of it, holding his breath before finally exhaling. “I blame it on him, putting those awful thoughts in your head. Tearing you away from me.” His grip on the jacket tightened so much you could see the vein in his arm flex even with just the dim lamp on the desk and the distance between you.

‘What the hell?’ You weren’t sure what to make of what you were witnessing, but you knew it didn’t sit right with you. It was just…weird.

“I wish you didn’t force me to end things. But it’s alright, I’ve moved on. I know you’d be happy for me.” He spit onto his hand, moving it beneath the desk. A whimper left his mouth, needier, different from how he sounded above you. Wet schlicking noises told you exactly what he was doing as he sniffed the jacket again. “You both wear the same perfume. Love it so much.” He added between grunts. “God. Might take me a minute baby. Already blew a load earlier.” The sounds picked up speed.

It felt wrong to keep watching, whatever was happening was a clearly intimate moment you didn’t belong a part of. You took the opportunity to gently back away from the door, and as quietly as you could made it back up to the bedroom, pulling the thick blanket over your head, like a child fending off the boogie man. “What. The. Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. It left you with a million questions you weren’t completely sure you wanted answers to. An amalgamation of emotions swirled in your head, confusion, worry, jealousy? You knew the jacket smelled like your perfume, but the confirmation as he jerked it to his ex made you shudder. “Gross.”

Your sleepiness had worn off, leaving you to lay awake with your thoughts. It wasn’t long after that the bedroom door creaked open, the sound of soft padding across the floor was heard before the weight of the bed sunk in behind you. Leon’s arm wasn’t comforting as it wrapped around you this time, it felt more like a weight forcing you in place. You wanted to pretend you were asleep, but the claustrophobic feeling was too much making you move a little on instinct. “Why were you downstairs?”

The question made the hair on your neck stand up despite his warm breath. “I needed some water.” “Mmmm, you going to lie to me now?” “What? I’m not –” “I know you were watching.” His grip around you tightened, squeezing you against him. It felt threatening in a way you couldn’t explain. “I didn’t mean to.” “It's not polite to stare.”

“I know.” “What were you doing downstairs?” “I told you I was just getting a drink.” “Then why were you watching?” “I heard your voice. I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry.” Tears formed quicker than you expected. He sat up slightly, rolling you to face him. His hand gripped your jaw slightly, you could barely make out his figure in the dark room. He pressed his lips to yours. “Don’t let me catch you spying again.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t reply, instead laying back down, pulling you against his chest. He rubbed your back like he normally did when you fell asleep, but no comfort came from it. The whole thing had you wigged out, bad.

“Leon?” “Hmm?” “Is there any way we could head back tomorrow?” “We have a whole trip planned.” “I know. I just wanted to get my phone, I’ve been feeling weird without it.” You let out an awkward laugh, hoping to play it off. Really though you were desperate to be closer to other people. “Sorry I’m not good enough company.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “No really. It’s nothing to do with you. Please, we can come back, I just really want to get it.” “No.” It was so firm it threw you off completely. “But Leon that’s not f–”

“Leon –” “I said no. I’m not driving you hours there and back, wasting gas because you forgot your phone. You don’t even need it.” “It’s not about needing it. I’d just feel more comfortable if I had it.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” “I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, I just want to go home and grab it.” “I already said, no.” You yanked yourself away from his space, to the other side of the bed, flicking the lamp on. You can’t remember ever actually having argued with him before, at least not in a true capacity. “You’re making me uncomfortable.” “You’re being ungrateful.”

His words sliced you like a knife, you frowned. “I’m not –” “You are.” “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore. You can’t just keep me here if I don't want to be.” “Sweetheart –” “No, I’m serious Leon. I’m not staying. I don’t know what’s up with this weird thing you have with your ex, or anything else. But I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to go home. I need space.” He clicked his tongue, sitting up. “We both know that you don’t know what you need. Just come back to bed.”

Resistant, you stood out of the bed staring down at him, face red with anger and upset. “No. Take me home right now.” He didn’t respond immediately, scanning you with his eyes. “Sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow either.” “I –” He was making you so frustrated. “If you don’t take me home, then I’ll figure out a way home myself.” “No, you won’t.” He threw his own legs over the side of the bed, righting himself. When he turned to face you, you felt cornered. To combat the feeling you sidestepped closer to the bedroom door. “Stop.” You said, putting your hand out in front of you, palm open fingers spread out as if that would magically keep him distanced from you. “Stay there.” “Baby.” He said unamused. “I mean it.” “What’s gotten into you?” “I told you. You’re making me uncomfortable.” His brows came together as if he was considering what you were saying. You took the opportunity to back up from the door into the hallway. “I think you’re having an episode. I think you need to calm down.” ‘The fucking audacity.’ You thought to yourself taking another step back. Lightning lit up the hallway from the window, the boom of thunder following close behind. Rain pattered against the windows as silence took over the situation between you. He didn’t move from where he was standing in the bedroom, you didn’t move from where your feet were planted in the hallway.

“Please come back to bed?” His voice was soft now, pleading. “I’m really not sure why you’re acting this way right now. But I’m concerned about you. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just come back ok?” He reached his hand out gently, as if he were taming a wild animal – the only result was you taking a step back.

Defiantly you shook your head. “Sweetie.”

You took another step back. He sighed, taking a step forward. You felt sick somehow, legs telling you to run again, run before he did something. Run before you’d be stuck just like in the woods. Fear you couldn’t explain. You knew you were being dramatic. It was Leon, there was no reason to be this on edge, even despite the weirdness of the evening, but your nerves told you differently. “Are you going to take me home?” “No baby.”

That was it, you bolted as fast as you could, feet skittering across the polished wooden floorboards. If you hadn’t used the bannister, you’d have face planted with the quickness you used to get down the stairs, missing the last few steps entirely. There was no immediate sound of movement behind you, at least none you could hear through your own pulse thrumming in your ears. You tore through the living room looking for a home phone, his cell, anything. Finally his flat steps were heard coming down the stairs

Your search came up empty. You knew there was nothing in the kitchen. Nervously you slid into the library, slamming the double doors shut and clicking the little turn locks on the inside knobs, just in time for him to be on the other side, gently twisting the knobs. “Baby, just come out here.”

“No.” You said weakly, looking around the room. The laptop was no longer on the desk, but you did see his keys tossed on the corner of it. With a shaky hand, you reached out and picked them up, tucking the fob into your palm, the metal part sticking out between two fingers as a defensive weapon. He stopped attempting to twist the knobs and instead knocked gently. “Why don’t you take a minute to calm down?” “No.” You repeated again, looking for a way out. “You’re not acting rational.” He added.

There were no other connecting doors besides the ones leading out into the living room area, and you knew you couldn’t make it past Leon that way. The windows to the office were large, missing screens like with most old homes. It wouldn’t take much to slip through one – ‘but which of us would make it out to the jeep first?’

“Just leave me alone!” You yelled back at him, clicking the little latch on the window sill. You waited for the next crack of thunder to make the move. Despite the old wood, the window lifted easily, giving you a view to the patio. “I can’t do that. You know that.” He replied, seemingly unaware of your plan.

You went out leg first, making sure the key was tight in your fist. Rain was beating down on the ground so hard the yard had practically been rendered all mud, running through it barefoot was going to be a challenge. ‘Just get to the jeep. Just get to the jeep’ You repeated in your head, stepping out into the disgustingly wet dirt, cringing when it mushed between your toes.

Without a second thought, you took off running towards the front of the house, feet slapping into the wet surface of the ground, tshirt and hair soaked in the rain. You tripped over a rock, tumbling flatly splashing up grass and more mud into your face and torso. Not giving up, you righted yourself completely, half falling again as you ran to the car. By this point Leon had already figured out your plan, the front door of the house slamming open. You looked back only long enough to see him walking towards you as you grabbed the door handle to pull yourself back up and over into the driver's seat. Trembling, you dropped the keys trying to get them into the ignition. “Shit. Shit.” You felt around on the floor, grabbing hold of them again, this time successfully managing to stick them in the ignition and turning the jeep on.

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” He called out, halfway to you. “You’re acting terrified. Just come back inside.” You shook your head, pulling the gearshift out of the parked position and into reverse, careful to not let it slip in your shaking and wet state. Slamming the gas pedal didn’t go in your favor, instead of moving, the vehicle roared in place, tires spinning against the soft earth, mud flying about, some flinging backwards smacking into you. “No…no…shit no..” You squeaked, slamming down on the pedal harder, turning the wheel. It still wouldn’t budge, mud and grass going everywhere in the rain. You tried putting it into drive, the whole vehicle lunged forward an inch before getting stuck again. “Come on. Come on.” You begged the universe. Too focused on the jeep, you had lost focus of Leon. The door opened and he reached over you, pulling the keys out and tossing them into the passenger seat floor somewhere. You went to dive for them when he scooped you up instead, holding you tightly as you kicked and squirmed, clawing at him to get out of his grasp. He didn’t speak, but held firm as he made his way back inside with you, depositing you onto the floor of the entranceway.

You stared up at him, trying to scoot back. There was a claw mark on his face from your nails, a little blood beading up there, a matching one on his shoulder. He knelt down to look at you, face full of concern. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, stopping your movement. “Good god baby, look at you. I mean really, look at you. This isn’t what a sane person would do.” His voice was so sickly sweet, it made you choke out a sob. “Y-you scared me – I.” “I scared you? Baby I’m bleeding because of you. You tried to steal my car. You’re soaked, covered in mud….God baby, see this is exactly why I had to bring you out here. Could you imagine what would happen if you acted like this in front of other people?” “But I –” You looked into his eyes, then at the stripe of blood on his cheek. You looked around, then down at your mud covered body. You felt pathetic. He was right, this was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. “I’m sorry Leon.” You said, face scrunching up into an ugly cry. Like a toddler you sat in front of him sobbing, soaking wet. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. Shhh.” He hushed you, one hand leaving your cheek. You felt the sting of something in your side, but were hazy before you could even register anything.

You managed one more snotty sob before your vision was spotty, head becoming harder and harder to hold up – then the relaxing tug of unconsciousness overtook you.

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thelastofhyde · 4 months

Text

a mercenary named time.

pairing. jackson!joel x fem!reader

synopsis. as joel begins to age, memories of sarah are beginning to fade. though he wants nothing more than to talk to you about his troubles, there's something standing in his way: he never told you about sarah.

warnings. this is more joel x sarah centric than joel x reader oops, hurt/comfort, ageing + difficulties that come with it, grief, mentions of death/religion/afterlife+ generally other sensitive topics, fluff, does this count as whump? (v minimum editing/proofreading)

word count. 4.9k

hyde’s input. wrote this as an attempt to distract myself from the fact i was on a plane (i hate flying). not much happens plot wise, and it just becomes me analyzing joel (in my own way) halfway through but hey, i wrote it and, though it's nowhere near perfect, i'm gonna post it!

due to the ties tlou has with zionism, here are helpful posts/links regarding the ongoing genocide in palestine. from the river to the sea. ( post, link, post )

Aging has become a threat again.

A part of him wonders if the threat ever truly left, or if it simply migrated south of his brain, chasing a warmth only leisure possesses, to make way for a survivalist winter’s cold. With the safety of walls and the sanctity of the commune, at last he’s caught on to the passing of time, the slow-crawling spider who spun its web into his skin.

During the cold, there'd only been movement. Pacing down streets divided by those who live in fear and those who brandish riot gear, and tip-toeing past fungal-faced mutations, and stumbling in a daze of pain through snow to find her. A safety distance of unmarked miles, away from that hospital, is what it took for him to finally pull over, cut the engine and exhale. Out with the panic, and the urgency, and the fear. Ellie was there, laid across the back seats, a paper gown as blue as any April sky, a cursed relic upon her sleeping form, terrorising him with images of what could’ve been, had he failed to save her too.

In the warmth, there’s tranquillity. Stretched out legs upon worn out sofas, quiet hums of forgotten tunes on rescued guitars, tangled limbs on love-stained sheets. A home, a daughter, and a you, whatever you may be. A fallen angel, a summer fairy, a ray of sun. Any form you come from, he accepts it, welcomes it. Thanks it for bringing you to him, smelling fresh as a daisy, riding up next to him on his first patrol, smiling as sweet as the honey he’d eaten with his breakfast when you asked him if he needed help reigning in his horse.

No, he’d grunted more than spoken to you. And wound up flung off its back, ten paces later. From the ground staring up, he’d watched your face appear above him. Bitten back laughter, a stretched out hand, and a question of if he wanted to swap rides, take your mare for the day.

She’s far friendlier, you’d assured him, after he let you think it was your strength that pulled him back to his feet. Takes to strangers a little easier than him, you’ll be safe.

And he’d believed it, against his own nature.

Tommy had been the one to notice, to nudge him hours later and nod his head in your direction. Real sweetheart, ain’t she? Joel’d said nothing. Shrugged his shoulders, dipped his head, sipped the whiskey out his cup. Tracked your movement across the room like a hunter stalks its prey. Or, maybe, it was more like a bee examining a flower, wondering if the pretty vibrance of your outsides carried a match to your insides, if the taste of your soft petals was a great enough sweetness to satisfy a craving he’d long foregone.

Four months of observing later, spring came and he stung.

Since then, you’ve been his, whatever that may mean anymore.

He’d already been yours.

And yet he finds himself unable to tell you of his recent trouble, the emerging signs of his age that the needle of time has begun to stitch into his seams.

The greys that curl upon his head grow more frequent. Blink, and they seem to double. His skin stretches differently than before, at times it feels he wears it more than owns it. There’s aches, and pains, and cracks from his joints, where before there’d been numbness and tiredness. A back that refuses to straighten like it used to, no matter how hard he stretches under the fleeting warm drops of his morning shower.

A guilty conscience whispers in a voice much like Tess’, a memory of her telling him ageing means he’s still here, even if she’s not. It’s harder to find the good in it, anymore, when he has so much to lose again.

It’s his memory that scares him most. Like a photo album, the images within seem to fade with time and, the more he grabs at them, the more they wear away.

It started with something small. Forgetting you’d told him you would be heading over to visit Maria and the baby after your patrol shift, leading his heart to near beat out his chest as he raced down to the stables like some crazed man, rambling about how something’s happened to you, you’re not back, only for some kid- Jessie, a friend of Ellie’s- to tell him you came back hours ago. He’d pulled you a little tighter against him that night as you crawled into bed, the earlier unnecessary fear a little too visceral in his racing heart.

Then, it happened more often.

Ellie asked him to help her clean out the garage space for her, he forgot and agreed to cover someone’s turn cleaning the stables.

You told him of your love of mint tea, and instead he found you green.

Tommy asked him across the dinner table- a double date, a cause to debut Ellie’s first solo babysitting duties- if he remembered the name of that old bar they’d liked, and his mind was blank. Empty.

All of it, inconvenient. Yet he could brush it off, let it affect him only like a bruise: momentarily, till it faded.

Until recently.

Until the memories of her began to fade.

He’d woken up one morning, earlier than you like always. Kissed your sleeping face, creeped down the creaking staircase, switched on the stove to boil some coffee. And realised he could no longer remember what she’d liked better: pancakes or waffles.

A few weeks later, he tried recalling what shade of blue her soccer team’s kit was. Was it light blue? Or a darker blue, like fresh denim? Was it even blue at all?

Ellie asked him, the caution she used to bring towards mentioning her name long gone with the changing of seasons, if she’d liked any comic books. The sound of a runner, itching and twitching behind some fence interrupted before she could notice he didn’t have an answer.

Sure, she read. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught her curled up in bed, the light of her torch illuminating more than just the pages of a book, but her face, too expressive for her own good at times, reacting to each twist and turn of the story. Sometimes, he’d stand in that doorway, unnoticed, till her eyes dropped shut and the light rolled out her hand. Other times, he’d clear his throat, catch her off guard, and tell her get to bed, kiddo, or I’ll tell Mrs. Atkinson you’ll be round after school tomorrow.

What use is it, however, remembering all that, if he can’t remember if she liked comics?

He should talk to someone about it, he knows. He’d tried to, at first. Had tried to drink the courage into him, sat across Tommy one late night, sat around a fire as they settled in for a night in the ski lodge, stranded by some heavy snowfall. He failed then, just like he failed when he tried to tell Ellie, till she raced off to throw snowballs at some kids and he remembered she was too young to listen to his burden, too beaten by life already to deserve stress within the respite of Jackson’s sanctuary. When he failed a fourth time to speak to Tommy, the real issue dawned on him.

He wants to talk to you. You’re the one he talks to, the one he goes to bear his wounds to, trusting no other’s love but your own to patch him up and calm him down. There’s only one issue, however.

He’s not told you about Sarah.

It was never a conscious decision, some secret he’d chosen to hide. Speaking about her simply hurt and, after the arduous months of crossing the country with Ellie, finding a place to call home in Jackson, and learning to hold somebody close again, he’d wanted to get away from pain, for a little while.

Then came the first anniversary of her death spent inside the commune. He’d drank himself blind, like every year before. There’s a hazy memory of that night he’s glad to suppress, one where he’s covered in his own vomit and you’re struggling to hold his weight up under a pouring shower, the sounds of his sobs muffled into your soaked sweater. He’d awakened, and awaited the questioning. Expected to open his eyes and find you stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Seeing the room empty was a shock, but drifting slowly down the stairs and finding you scrubbing the stains out of his shirts near floored him.

The very same shirt you wear now, curled up on the sofa. Your eyes are shut, legs are bare, and there’s a gentle breeze that blows at the curtains you’d hung up, your first act upon moving in with him.

With a careful step, he avoids the creaking floorboard as he crosses the threshold. Slow as he can, he lowers the bag off his shoulder and props it gently against the wall, careful it doesn’t slip and let its contents spill out. Then he works at his laces, undoes them one by one, loosens them so his feet meet no resistance as he steps out of them. The summer’s heat affords him the liberation from heavy coats, less layers to shed now he’s returned to you at last.

You lay right, he strays left. Towards the kitchen, footsteps light as he can manage. Two chairs are pulled out at the table, two bowls sit drying neatly by the sink. Ellie must’ve stopped by for dinner. He’s glad to know she’s eaten, glad to know you kept each other company, glad to know the light is off in the shed and her snoring fills the hollow space. And he’s glad to find some food for him. He takes a bite, lifts the plate, finds a note beneath. Your handwriting, what do Joel Miller and breakfast have in common? followed by an arrow, urging him to turn the page around. The answer’s there, weakening his ageing knees. I can’t start my day without them.

Back by the sofa, a book sits split open, spine broken and pages pressed into ageing wood. Its cover is faded, frayed, much like he feels himself becoming.

He recognises it as one he’d gifted you, seasons ago. If he tries hard enough, he can remember the snow collecting in his unruly hair as he waited at your doorstep, and the way your smile melted the chill away, and the mumbling fool he’d made of himself upon handing the present over to you, some version of said you were bored, so I found this for you all he managed before turning on his heel and striding back to his own home, ignoring the teasing smile upon Ellie’s face.

After all this time, you still have it. Still read it. The fact slows his heart, soothes his aching back. Suddenly, he’s more than ready to head back out there, beyond the walls of Jackson, if it means collecting more books for you to remember him by when he’s long gone and withered away, no more than a familiar smell stained into your sheets and a fading warmth in the palm of your hand.

Two loud pops sound out of his knees as he crouches down by your side, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses the closer he grows to your sleeping form. There’s a want, nestled deep inside his bones, to pull you into his arms and deliver you upstairs to a bed made for two, in search of a peace his soul has not found since he’d left for his shift in the early hours of the morning. It would be cruel, however, to wake you when you’re so beautiful.

Joel once thought he’d liked you best when you were smiling, till you’d fallen asleep on his porch one night, after hours of talking his ears off. Since then he’s liked you best sleeping, resting. Comfortable enough to trust his watchful eye to keep any harm away while your body takes back its much needed rest, even on days like this when he’s not physically there. You’ve got his shirt, his scent embedded into every thread of it, and that’s enough to keep you safe.

The rough of his fingertips reach out to graze the soft of your cheeks, gently dancing up to comb a few strands of damp hair away from your face. It seems you’ve gained your own spider, the faintest of lines beginning to take shape upon your skin. You wear it better than him, Joel thinks, the passing of time upon your body a picture of love, and prosperity, and hope for more time to come. He wears it like a burden, however. A death sentence, a timer on how long till the cold hand of Death takes the place of your warm one clasped in his.

Adjusting to a life he fears to leave has not been easy. There’d been a time where the promise of death was a comfort. To wake each day, reckless with his time and mindless to his body, a thought of all the pain, and all the sorrow, and that overwhelming, heavy, overbearing loneliness that hung over him like a storm cloud at last coming to an end and ceasing to exist, it had kept him going. Though faith died alongside her, a dream of reuniting with his babygirl on the other side was one he clung to on nights when no drop of alcohol and no unlabeled pill was enough to send him off to sleep. Death now, however, means parting from you, from Ellie, from Tommy. It no longer comforts so much as it disturbs him.

Would you comfort yourself, in the wake of his death, with dreams of reuniting someday, down the line, when Death takes you by the hand and guides you back to Joel?

He can only hope his babygirl can forgive the way he now longs to keep living, in spite of her waiting patiently for him in whatever comes after this life. Perhaps his failing memory is a consequence of this, a punishment she sends for making her wait even longer to feel his embrace again, slowly stealing away the only parts of her Joel has anymore.

Even in guilt, he can’t bring himself to believe his Sarah would do such a thing. Her heart was never touched by the bitterness that had hardened his own, her soul pure a freshly fallen snow.

I want you to be loved, dad. Echoes of her voice in his mind, words she’d confessed to him with teary eyes, a half-eaten birthday cake sitting between them, two candles, one in the shape of three, the other a zero, tossed messily on the table. There’d been no real fuss for his thirtieth, at his own insistence. Just his parents, his brother, his daughter. Those he loved, gathered around one table, eating away at food he’d made.

I’m already loved, kiddo. I got you, don’t I?

Joel knew what it meant to feel unloved. For a long time, that’s all he felt. The love only a child could gift died just as quickly in his arms as she had, under the watchful teary eyes of his brother. Grief he dragged around with him, dedicated to both her and the love he no longer felt.

First came denial. A steady 48 hours post-mortem, in which he walked ahead of Tommy and convinced himself she was there, a few feet behind him, talking her uncle’s ears off as he made sure to clear any oncoming threats The denial culminated in him bleeding down the side of his face, a missed bullet somewhere left behind, and Tommy’s pleading voice trying to move him forward, dragging him to tents set up by the army.

Eleven stitches, each one imbedding loss and cowardice into his screaming skin. The anger settled in a few days later. It made a home within Joel, latched onto his heart and began to beat in place of it. It changed him, aged with him, convinced him it was the only partner he’d ever need. A hopeful glimmer of bargaining came in the shape of Tess. But anger and all its roots were too deeply burrowed within Joel, unwilling to be weeded out, no matter how firm the hand.

Complacency was far easier than any fight. Tommy left, the buzz of a firefly seducing him with the idea of better, of more, of a cure. Joel convinced himself things were easier without Tommy and his morals around. The routine of waking, struggling, drinking, passing out was one he practised well and thoroughly. Till Marlene and her suicide mission.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Ellie, with all her snark, and her crass words, and her humourless puns, reminded Joel how it felt to be loved. Laid upon his chest, a need for warmth and a plea for him to survive, she became the closest thing that felt like Sarah in twenty years. How could Marlene expect him to walk away, to leave her in that hospital?

Pain rushes in like a wave meets the shore, dampening him in a melancholy he saves for whiskey. Still resting peacefully on the sofa, your chest rises slow, steady, and constant. He tries to mimic it, matching his own breathing to it. It reminds him of dancing with you in the kitchen, barefoot and bare chested, arms entangled and forehead pressed to forehead, doing his best to stay in sync with your gentle sways.

The floorboards creek the further his aching body sinks to the floor. Like a man meets the altar, he’s on his knees. Blunt fingernails dig into the worn out brown leather of the couch, the only grip he has on reality.

A discombobulated memory dances across his mind. One of a much younger him, with a head full of brown locks and a sleeping daughter upon his couch. Outbreak night. He’d been peacefully unaware of the happenings outdoors, happy to turn another year older next to his Sarah, when a call came through. His brother, dumped in some jail-cell and begging for release. He’d not thought it through much, sighing in frustration yet rising slowly to his feet nonetheless. If he’d known how that night would end, he’d have held his daughter a little tighter as he carried her to bed, he’d have left every kiss he could afford against her forehead, and speak every I love you he had left in him.

Grief is a river that travels the mountain of his mind. Strong, cold, descending upon a downward slope. Its currents are unforgiving, grabbing a hold of anything that blocks the path. Too easy is it for him to slip and fall into the rapids, losing hold of his footing on reality before he realises he’s struggling to breath and there’s a whole new river carving a way for itself out his eyes and down his cheeks.

His eyes close. His breath halts. He tries to remember those breathing exercises, the same ones he uses any time the pain swells too much and the panic begins to attack his nervous system. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. Choke down a sob. Slow breath out. Joel. He pictures you, feet upon solid ground, hand stretched out as you try to goad him out the trepid waters of his grief. Joel. This image of you reminds him he’s got a name, got a life, got a purpose. To help Tommy on patrols. To make sure Ellie always has a place to call home. To keep you warm in the winter, and kissed during spring, and safe no matter where the sun may sit. Joel. The tears fall faster. Messier. He’s no longer a quiet companion at your side, but a mess of ragged breathing and nose sniffles.

“Joel?”

Skin to skin. Soft hand to wet cheek. You’re awake faster than he can process, too quick to wipe tears or feign smiles. Legs scramble off the couch, parted and bent at the knee on either side of him. Musk, and lilies, and every scent that makes him feel safe and close to you envelop the shared space between you.

“Joel, baby, what’s wrong?” Your thumb swipes uselessly at his cheeks, fresh waves rolling out his eyes before you finish wiping the last. Sleep is written all over you, woven into your breathy voice and weighing down the bags of your eyes. He feels a whole new wave of guilt, waking you from such a peaceful slumber with the sight of him and all his ailments bursting out the frayed seams that hold him together.

He thinks he says your name. It’s hard to tell. The blurred image of you through his teary eyes inspires a heavy burden of disappointing you that he can not cope with, and so he ducks his head between your legs, forehead pressing on the inside of your left thigh. His breath is short, his heart is sore, and he’s staining your delicate skin with his pain. You let him grieve upon you, pull him closer. A hand soothes up his back. Your voice tells him it’s okay, and you hum a sweet tune he’s sure he’s played you many a drunken nights, when the confidence kicks in and he’s serenading you with his country twang and guitar strings.

There’s no prying, no demand to rightfully know why you’ve awoken to your lover, steadfast and stoic at his worst, collapsing into your hold. You let him cry. He lets you hold him. You’re all he’s been missing, this feeling of support he’s denied himself for far too long. No fear of your judgement, but fear of pulling you in amongst the dangerous currents alongside him.

An anchor comes in the shape of your fingers carding through his unruly hair, a tether that pulls him back into the living room, into your home, into you. With the patience of any saint, you let him move at his own pace, head slowly rising from your thigh, back straightening to the best of its abilities. His hand, rough and hardened by time and grit and survival, paws at your thigh, clumsy in its attempts to dry his tears off of you, a fear of it sinking into your skin and some part of his sadness taking root inside your bloodstream.

Your hand stills his, gently, coercing his fingers to thread with your own as your other hand cups his face and guides him to look at you. You're beautiful, in a way that makes Joel wish he was better with words so he could spend the rest of his days finding new ways to tell you so. Instead, he has to settle with a simple, “my pretty girl.” You smile, bashful, as if that’s enough, as if you don’t deserve more.

“Hello to you too, handsome.” You peck his cheek, he chases after you with his mouth. Two small pecks, a third he fails to achieve as you hold him back. “Don’t think you can distract me with those perfect lips of yours, Miller. I’m worried about you, and no amount of kisses are gonna change that.”

He refocuses on his breathing exercises. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. No sob this time. Slow breath out. Your gaze, soft as a cloud, rests over him gently, your own chest rising and falling in sync with him. With every night he’d lay awake, trying to think of how to bring up Sarah and the details of her he’s failing to hold onto, never did he imagine the weight to fly off his chest so easily with just a supportive smile from you.

“I had someone before, who I loved.” He pauses. Clears his throat, shifts his weight. His knees are beginning to ache the longer they sit digging into the hard floor. He should have listened to your advice of scavenging a rug. “Not how I love you. Like I love Ellie.”

Silence.

Not the kind where you hear a pin drop, but one that allows the laughter of children playing down the street to blow in with the breeze, and the creaking of the old house you’ve both made a home, and the squeaks and chirps of wild-life continuing on outside, unaffected by the end of civilisation.

Then, “I know.” Joel’s eyes widen, disbelief painted across them. “Tommy’s let it slip a few times. Just when we’re on patrol and he sees something that reminds him of her. Or he’s telling me a story that’s sole purpose is to embarrass you.” A part of him wants to feel angry at his younger brother, stealing his right to reveal such a large part of who he is. The other part of him feels for him too, a reminder that Sarah’s loss is not one he tackled all by himself. She was his daughter, but she was also Tommy’s niece. How could he blame him for feeling comfortable enough to share his grief with you? “Ellie also mentioned it, once. Back before you and I were really…” You fall silent, trail off, as you both usually do when faced with tackling the task of labelling what exists between you.

“Why,” he chooses to distract himself from it, scared of a world where he asks for the right to claim himself as your husband. Those things don’t matter anymore, with the world gone to shit, but a man could still dream. “Didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s your story to tell, I didn’t want to force it out you. I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

He may not know how to label what you are to him, but he knows he loves you. God, does he love you.

“Thank you, darlin’, I really-” He’s getting choked up, caught between his grief for Sarah and his love for you. You seem to understand, as you always do, hands slowly pulling and coercing him up onto the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “Can’t thank you enough.”

“You’ve nothing to thank me for.” You promise, sealing it into his skin with a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t like to see you cry, Joel, but I prefer you do it in front of me. Don’t hide parts of yourself. I want all of you. Good, bad, and everything in between.”

There’s the urge to let himself fall into the river again, now that you’ve pulled him ashore and attached yourself to him like a life vest, an oath to never let him drown. He feels his eyes well-up, but doesn’t let them fall, as his mouth runs ahead of his mind and at last confesses the troubles he’s been keeping close to his chest.

“It used to be like this every day. Tears, unless I numbed myself free of consciousness. Then, things got better. With Ellie and you around. Anytime I felt the anger or the pain swelling, you’d be there and there’d be room for laughter. But I’m getting older, darlin’. Memories’ not the same. There’s things about my babygirl, my Sarah, that I just… can’t remember. And it scares me. Scares me so bad that I don’t know how to cope with it. If I ever woke up and couldn’t remember her face, it would kill me. I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

He speaks slowly. You cling to every word, a gentle nod lets him know you understand. A part of him wonders how deep that understanding runs, if you too had lost a child. He wants to afford you the same grace you’ve given in, and so he doesn’t pry. If you have a story to tell, he can only hope to still be around to listen.

Oblivious to the thoughts of you holding a faceless child swirling around in his head, you pull Joel into you, encouraging him to let you hold his frame. You’ve told him countless times he needs to let himself be cared for, a spark that ignited many arguments in the early days of your love. It feels nice to comply at last, head drifting down to rest on your steady shoulder. Your legs curl up onto the couch, lay gently over his own, as an arm wraps itself around his aching back.

Only like this does Joel feel he’s finally arrived home after weeks of wading through the depths of his own sorrows, evading a bounty placed upon him by time.

Joel is ageing. Everyday, a new line appears on his face. Every year, a new ache burrows in his bones. But, if each moment he can feel your love in acts of kindness, and left-over meals, and sleepy limbs upon a shared mattress, it doesn’t feel as daunting. He wonders what awaits him in the afterlife, when he and Sarah reunite as he so hopes. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that she’d be proud of him for finding solace in a heart like yours.

“Tell me about her.” You plead to him something he’s spent years longing to do.

Without missing a beat, words flow easily and memories play on in his head, his precious daughter no longer blurry in a haze, but fully in focus, smiling wide at him with a mouthful of food.

“She loved pancakes.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller oneshot #pedro pascal x reader

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yandere-wishes · 1 year

Text

𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

Summary: You try to escape from two fearsome Sith Lords. Surprisingly they take it rather well.

Author's note: This is totally getting a part 2. Or maybe a series we'll see.

Warnings: dark, absolutely no regard for the rule of two, sorta a vent fic (venting that these two are so fine and I can't get them out of my mind), slightly fluffy.

The empire's warships have a tendency to blur reality. The interiors of their large hulking exoskeletons house endless corridors and makeshift chambers. Vast, endless arrays of space. They've been optimized for housing droids, clones, and artillery. Not for escape, not for an endless search of a freedom that has long since eroded.

Calling yourself anything but desperate would be a lie. Your feet run to the chorus of your broken heartbeat. The need for freedom, the need to escape spreads through your body like a poison. You know it'll end up killing you, either from exhaustion or by their sabars. But you have to try, you have to run. Even if you've left fragments of yourself in the warm bed the three of you sleep on. Even if you forgot your heart under Anakin's pillow and your soul still lingers in Maul's warm embrace. Maybe freedom is worth cutting off pieces of yourself, if only in the hope that someday they might grow back.

There's something wrong with the corridors you're sure of it. You've never been one for directions, instead relying on the holo screens and navigation systems to lead the way. Mirror images as far as the eye can see. Identical, plain. Nothing substantial to store in your memory. There's something ironic about this situation, a punchline that doesn't quite land. You half haphazardly tug on the skirt of your nightgown, desperate for anything familiar. You're not sure why.

You remember how Anakin called you pretty this morning, still hazy, still clinging to the sensation of slumber. Perfect blue eyes too dazed to look at you. Really look at you. The chosen one gazes at your ghost, your ethos. the perfect doll he and Maul had morphed you into. Behind you

Maul pulls you to his chest. Hand running up and down her side, trying to resurrect you into his dreams. It's only when Anakin's eyes close, seeling the shimmering blue orbs, that you crawl out of bed and into the unknown.

You're lost, abandoned in absolute desolation. The marble tiles bleed frost into the soles of your feet. Somewhere in the distance, you feel a disturbance in the force. Too far away to matter, yet leaking with a potent rage that burns. It's hope you think, albeit pathetically, maybe it's better to capitulate this pointless crusade and wait for the Sith lords to find you. The crash comes just as you're about to stop. You bump into him, falling in the process. All armor and steel. The Stormtrooper's mask is off giving you a clear view of his scarred face. His eyes flash, some dreary emotion too obscure to read, he offers you a gloved hand, something human something casual.

You stare frozen.

When exactly did you stop comprehending human idiosyncrasies?

When exactly did you start reading every interaction as a threat?

He's a monster, you think, just like the ones you've been warned about. Lectured time and time again by both Anakine and Maul. Monsters pry on little girls, especially ones who wander off on their own. Monsters lurk behind unsuspecting walls, ready to pounce when their prey approaches. You wonder if, the definitive definition of "monster" could be passed on to the two Siths who call themselves your lovers.

There's blood, too crimson to be real. Metallic aromas wafted through the air. You've only now noticed how close the disturbance in the force really is. Close enough to distinguish itself. To reveal that, in actuality, it's not a disturbance at all.

It's two...

Something cold yanks at your forearm. Pulling you to your feet. for a split second, your nerves calm. The familiarity of the cybernetic arm grants you a heavy ease. Anakin pushes you over to where Maul is standing. Golden eyes burning holes through the stormtrooper's armor. 'He didn't do anything' you long to say. But the words wisely die on your tongue as Maul grips your shoulders. Anakine's saber is lit, stabbing through the soldier's armor as if it were flesh. As if killing him where as easy as killing a rogue thought. "You're quite a foolish soldier for daring to touch that which belongs to your commanders. Even more imbecilic for so much as looking at emperor Palpatine's disciple."

Maul's grip on your shoulders tightens, eyes never once leaving the bloodshed. One of his hands instinctively roams to your belly, then slides down to your thigh. Rubbing it ever so gently as his claws pierce your soft skin. You close your eyes trying to make yourself smaller. You hate how his touch grounds you. How the familiarity plucks at your heartstrings. When he touches you like this you wish you would forever rot in his arms.

"'I'm sorry" You don't know why the words come so easily. As if they've been itching to spill from your tongue. Maybe it's easier to say 'I'm sorry' rather than 'You've broken my perception of love, of reality and now I can only find comfort in your darkness.' "Hush" Maul's anger spills with every syllable. His claws dig deeper, earning him a pained hiss from his doll.

"You're not sorry, in fact, you rather enjoyed this didn't you? Running away making us chase you down, I never thought your species would enjoy being the prey so much, little one." Anakin walks over, saber seethed at his side. His every step promised pain, retribution. He's angry, furious. They both are, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, they'll end it all today.

Maul's chambers have always been a testament to Dathomir, bathed in deep scarlets and endless ebony. You wonder if he's homesick for a place he's only visited in his worst ephialtes. After the incident in the corridors, they drag you back to the Zabrak's room. Neither bothering to say a word. Merely permitting their rage to engulf you, subduing you into submission. It's an unwelcome surprise when they begin to prep for the day. Throwing on their black cloaks, prior to choosing your outfit. An abnormal affinity settles across the room. Too unnerving to go unchecked.

They dress you each morning, a ritual you think, some attestation of love that's never been quite right. Maul drapes you in velvet dresses. Each one harbors a sui generis softness that sits erroneously across your skin. Their opulent sensation only brings forth feelings of aversion and despair. Their softness an ode to your imprisonment.

the dresses come in shades of crimson, detailed sometimes in black, sometimes in gold, and sometimes in a frigid blue that sends shivers running up your spine.

Anakin fusses over your accessories, why they feel the need to dress you so extravagantly daily is beyond you -as you've come to realize many things are- On days when Anakin's hubris reaches its apex, he bathes you in gold. Astonishing glittering collars across your neck and Kuat bangles hanging from your wrists. When he's sober from his pride he chooses black diamonds. Simple and exotic. scintillate and opaque.

Allusions to the dark side.

A hidden reference that crawls inside you.

Once, back when you'd been sure defiance was still an option. Back when callow hope still dared to flow through your veins. Back when you'd been a jejune, stubborn thing. You had refused to wear one of the dresses they'd bought. Adimant in your refusal until Maul had stuck out his hand. Summoning the Force to remind you just who held the supreme authority here.

The Force had strangled you, clawing hungrily at your neck. You felt your bones caving in on themselves, watched with exacerbating hysteria as your feet abandoned the floor. He'd only released you when he was sure you were near death's adorned door. Permitting you to molder on the floor akin to a ragdoll.

Anakin had chastised you after you'd conjured enough strength to sit up, gasping greedily for air. He'd broken two fingers that day. One still harbors a small scar.

A Promise ring.

An augury.

There are days, few and far between. When they've deemed you've been behaving adequately for long enough. That they permit you the choice of which dress you'd fancy wearing for the day. It's a rare event, reserved as a special treat. You think it's their way of proposing variety, giving you the illusion of choice. Making you feel a little less smothered.

Today is not one of those days. Today, you feel them pick you apart, only to reassemble you in their image. Drowning you in extravagance. A reminder, one whose deprecating nature weaves itself within your muscles. You, little girl, are nothing more than a doll. And dolls should know their place.

No sooner do you feel the final lace fasten across your back, that Anakin is tugging you outside the door. Metal arm clasped around your forearm.

Maul follows behind molten gaze locked on your face. The hallways bend to their will as if the walls themselves quiver with their presence. You recognize this corridor, recognize the frigid forlorn.

There's something wrong with Emperor Palpatine's throne room. It's surreal, makeshift. His real throne lays somewhere cold, somewhere even his apprentices don't dare wander off to. The ironclad throne has never felt right. Never felt like it held any real power. Just terror, just dread, just hatred. But here it is in all its glory. Left to two apprentices who'd rather treat it as a toy than a sacred place.

Anakin dramatically throws himself onto the throne. One leg thrown over the armrest as he leans against the other. His other leg planted firmly on the ground. He keeps you steady on his thigh. Torturing you with his distant, disappointed look. Maul stands in front of you. His eyes liquid gold melting into you. You see the galaxy in them. Hear it whispearing secrets meant to be forgotten. It's Anakin's voice that rattles you from your disjointed thoughts.

"You caused us so much worry angel" he's being nice. You don't trust that. There's something sinister plaguing his words.

"You know Ani, she may cease escaping if you'd cease to spoil her." Maul leans down, gripping your chin and squeezing. " The brat forgets her place, merely cause you'd rather coddle her than discipline her."

Anakin glares, a shift in his eyes, blue bleeding into gold. "Hmm, Maul, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Kenobi right now."

"Why's that? Did the old fool tend to also point out your shortcomings?"

You wonder who this Kenobi is, as you watch the Siths' exchange crude childish vitriols. Maybe he'd make a better lover than the two men you have the misfortune of being adhered to.

They never could truly see just how similar they were.

Two sides of the same coin.

One born of copper, the other, black rose petals.

Subconsciously you reach out. Grasping Anakin's robotic hand, fiddling with the panel, peeling it away to gain access to the wires and circuits. You have a bad habit of ripping things open. Anakin learned this the first time he kissed you and you tried to gnaw at his chest with your nails. Not in malice, but rather to satisfy a ravenous curiosity. A raging need to open him and see just how he ticked. You'd wished to perform an autopsy on his soul. Rip him open and devour all his secrets. Back then you'd wondered if you could kiss sunrises into Anakin's eternal night. Strip him of bleak blackened skies and introduce him to stars and a moon that shines. He'd only vaguely permitted it. Opting to pluck the stars lying within you. Swiping them for steel and lava and other mundane things that fueled his incessant rage.

Anakin's head dips, lips pressing on your jugular vein. "You're ethereal" Anakin mubbles against your skin, like the dying prayer of a collapsing star. He's so pretty when he kisses your neck. Biting away pieces of you. Stealing your light for himself.

"Princess" Maul seethes venom pelting from his words. You realize you'd been ignoring him. Something he's not too fond of. "What in the stars was going through your pretty little head?"

he looks like he'd love nothing more than to wring your pretty little neck right now. "I just..." your words feel heavy. Tiny bullets polluting your tongue. It feels so cruel to say when you know just how much they love you. "I just wanted some freedom. Just a bit of space."

"Dumb little angel" Anakin chastes. You lower your head in embarrassment watching Maul kneel in front of you. He cups your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your head. "You can never escape us beloved".

"I love you," says Anakin. All you hear is, I'll haunt you, I'll break your ribs one by one so that I may possess your heart. Maybe they mean the same thing.

"And I'm pretty sure if Maul could feel normal emotions like everyone else, then he'd love you too." You can't help but let out a giggle as Anakin throws his head back laughing. A rare melodious sound, that causes your heart to skip a beat. Maul merely rolls his eyes before pecking you on the lips.

You trace your fingers across Maul's chest, feeling the pummelling of two hearts. A double heartbeat. Two melodies entwined, You wonder who he harbors in those hearts. One for love and one for family. You nip at his bottom lip. Ushering the blood into your mouth. He tastes of Ichor and smoke. Of sadness and rage. From behind you feel Akanin bite into the hollow of your flesh. Leaving traces of himself upon your skin.

"Our pretty little problem" Anakin mumbles.

You're a problem, a vexation draped in velvet, an unsolvable equation. Trapped between a love that seethes through your body like a toxin. Engulfing you until your mind relents. Maybe it's easier this way. Easier to say 'I love you' without the double entendre.

You do love them.

A rather arduous conclusion to reach.

Maul and Anakin.

Palpatine's apprentices.

Your lovers

Yeah, that sounds about right...

💜💜: @athanasia-day @hotpinkboots @jenn-patterson-69 @nickiiiixoxo-blog @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

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astarionxhappiness · 7 months

Text

This is my first piece of writing in about five or so years, so thank you Astarion for giving me that fire again.

I did my best to find all the typos, but this was written on my phone at about 1 AM while half asleep, and autocorrect is a bitch, so bear with me.

Prompt: you have a bad past of sexual abuse, but catch feelings for Astarion.

Word Count: A little over 4,000 words

Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse if you squint a bit. Fluff. Lots of fluff.

The two of you had been traveling together for some time now. And while you had gotten of to a rocky start, you felt that you had grown a rather strong bond over the past months.

Though you supposed that facing constant and never ending threats, as well as having a tadpole connecting your very minds could do that to anyone.

Having to constantly put your life into another's hands like that. . All of your trust. And in turn, they offered you the same.

It had been years since you had felt such trust for a person. Such faith and warmth. And to a vampire spawn no less.

The thought made you smile to yourself with great amusement, biting your bottom lip absently and tugging.

Perhaps it wasn't even putting your trust in a vampire spawn. . Perhaps it felt funny to find yourself putting your trust in him.

"What's so funny?"

The words knocked you from your daze, bringing your attention back to the world around you.

The sound of the crackling fire, the uncomfortable log making your ass sore the longer you remained seated on it. The night air chilling your skin through the thin fabric of your tunic.

"Tav?" Astarion's voice sounded again, ever demanding. His tone made you look over at him quickly.

"You keep doing that today. . Are you falling ill or something?" You did not offer a response to this rhetorical question, knowing it was asked out of fussiness from being ignored, rather than genuine concern.

"I'm just thinking," you replied, glancing over at him again. "Nothing is funny."

You had had a hard time looking at him all day. You knew it had to do with the dream you had had the night before, though you were still having trouble admitting it to yourself.

The very memories of it made you feel flush.

"Oh?" He quirked a brow as he gazed at you from the corner of his eye, his head tilted back in a manner that showed off his jaw nicely.

"And what is it you're thinking about so intently then, hm? It must be something quite interesting to have you so distracted." The suggestive smile and knowing glint in his eye made you flush, looking away bashfully.

"Whatever you think it is, I can assure you it isn't that," you replied with vehemence, listening to him burst into musical laughter.

"Oh, it truly is so much fun to tease you, darling" he replied, tilting his head to look at you, a smile dancing on his lips that showed off his fangs.

"So what was it, then? If not the idea of me ravishing your body?" He had been making such jokes more and more for weeks now, but the immersion did nothing to stop your face from going red once more, forcing you to look away from him so he wouldn't see.

Not that it truly mattered. You knew he could tell exactly what your reaction was. Hence the reason he loved to make comments.

"Astarion, could I ask you something?" You found the nervous words leaving your mouth before you could stop them, making your body tense.

Your head remained bowed, gazing intently at your lap.

The smile fell from his lips, a look of uncertain curiosity taking place in his features instead.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He asked, making you wring your hands together.

"Do you. . Do you actually like being with people?" The question made him pause for just a moment before a smile cracked the far more real expression that had come before it.

A breathless laugh left his lips.

"Of course," he replied, unwilling to admit to the possibility that that was in fact a lie.

He felt the question was building to something more, and he was unwilling to make himself unavailable should you want him.

His eyes squinted slightly in curiosity when you offered little more than a nod of your head, wringing your hands together.

"So. . So you enjoy. . Being touched?" You glanced over at him, tensing harder when you found his inquisitive gaze already looking back at you.

"Why are you asking me these things my sweet?" He asked. "Is it perhaps. . Because you really would like for me to touch you?" He brought his hand out to very lightly cover your wrist, making your breath catch.

Silence grew thickly between the two if you as your response to the question remained stuck firmly in your throat.

You startled violently when footsteps sounded from off to your left, followed by Wyll's voice.

"Are you two coming to eat? Gale's just finished cooking. " He hesitated as he spoke, watching Astarion's hand slide subtly off your wrist.

"I am actually not feeling particularly well," you replied, flustered as you got to your feet. "Excuse me." They both watched you go, having similar expressions if uncertainty as Astarion stood up next to Wyll.

You remained in your tent for the remainder of the evening, listening to the others talking and laughing over warm food.

You shivered absently as you laid on your bedroll, the thick furs feeling less warm than usual. You hoped that it was simply the nights getting colder, but you had a feeling it was rather your thoughts giving the impression of warmth leaving your body.

You shut your eyes, your fingers tracing the palm of your other hand tucked by your face as you heard Astarion reciting one of his favorite stories to the others, undoubtedly keeping the company of a nice glass of wine.

The tips of your fingers traced down to your wrist where his hand had covered just a few hours before, your mind wandering back to the dream that had corrupted your thinking all day.

You had sworn off touch long ago. Your experience with it being only violent and cruel.

You did not want it.

A simple brush of the shoulder led to temptation of touching one's arm. Then, perhaps the urge to move in closer. Feel their breath against your skin, inhale their scent. .

These were temptations that people seemed incapable to control.

No! You wouldn't risk it! Not again! Not ever again.

You would not be used for another's pleasure.

And yet. . Astarion had touched you, had he not? Not just tonight, but other times as well. Whether it was catching you mid trip, protecting you in a fight . . even waking you from a nightmare or two. .

You took in a deep breath as these memories crossed your mind. The feel of his hands clutching your shoulders, his soothing, concerned voice as he tried to calm you down.

You had felt faint that night, waking with the air out of your lungs.

You had fallen against him, your hands shaking, weakly grasping at his arms as you tried not to faint. You could still feel the sensation of your temple resting against his broad chest. The feeling of his cool hand coming to rest on the side if your head.

He had never stopped talking while you worked through your panic attack. Plenty of it was not actually comforting, but the simple sound of his voice grounded you. And his touch made you feel drunk.

You had pushed those feelings away after that night. but after your dream, after the vivid sensation of his touch against your skin, his soft voice easing your tension. . You knew the sensation. It was too vivid not to have been spawned from a memory.

That feeling of safety. . Never had you expected to ever feel it in your life. .

You bit your lip as you curled in on yourself, wrapping an arm around your torso.

If your fears were right, and all touching always led to pain and violence, then why had Astarion never tried anything?

Even tonight, the touch had been. . Gentle. Hesitant, almost. Offering the option for you to pull away if you so pleased.

But you didn't. Something about it felt right. Like having a taste of water when you didn't realize just how thirsty you were.

Perhaps. . Just maybe, it was possible to find safety with him.

You trusted him with your life, after all.

And from things he had told you in the past, you got the feeling he would understand the fear you had of being taken advantage of more than anyone.

Your attention was grabbed by the sounds of everyone getting ready to head to bed, most likely due to the rain that had begun falling, making it's presence known to you by tapping rhythmically against your tent.

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach twisting at the resolve you made.

You would just ask him. What was the worst that could happen?-

You had to stop your brain from answering this question.

It took you a little under ten minutes to harden your resolve.

You kicked off the thick fur blanket, stuffed your feet in your unlaced boots, and headed for the vampire's tent across the camp from yours.

Except, by the time your feet stopped in front of his tent, your resolve had weakened once more, leaving you standing in the dark with rain slowly absorbing into the thin layers of your clothes.

You were already shaking with nerves by the time that thunder boomed in the sky so loudly it had you yelping in surprise, your mind having been far more preoccupied with other things than the lightning overhead. flinging yourself through the flap of fabric that covered the entrance of his tent, you froze as you laid eyes on the man laying in the dim lamp light.

Your entrance made Astarion look up with a start from the spot on his bed, his finger marking the page of his book he had been reading.

He looked confused by your odd entrance, though your meek posture and flushed skin made him smile at you. It rather made your head dizzy and your feet want to run.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted, his tone ever seductive. "I figured I would be seeing you again tonight." He shut his book in a way that had you wondering how many times he had practiced the motion in order to get just the right amount of seduction out of it.

He was. . Everything that you were not in such moments.

Confident, charismatic, smooth and seductive. Experienced, and more or less functioning.

You looked down, hands clasped before you.

"I-i didn't mean to bother you," you whispered, finding yourself far more nervous than you normally were.

"I just. . I wanted to ask you. ." You shut your eyes as your cheeks went bright red.

He couldn't help but notice the soft tremor rattling your body. Your meek position was not one he often saw you possessing. Only in moments when you were truly terrified or nervous about something.

It was, much to his horror, rather.. endearing.

He had only seen you in such a state a spare few times, but when he did, he had the odd urge to handle whatever it was causing it.

And in this case, he felt certain that the thing causing you trouble, he could definitely take care of.

He stood up, moving over to you, making your heart beat quicken with nerves.

He had a way of looming that made you want to flee.

When you flinched back from him, suddenly rethinking if your request was such a good idea, you watched to your great surprise as he took a step back, frowning.

"Are you scared of me?" He asked with sudden realization.

The action had not been made out of anticipation, or longing. No. . People did not flinch like that unless they expected something unpleasant to happen.

You looked up at him with round, horrified eyes.

"No!" You replied quickly, your body trembling a bit harder.

"I- no, of course not, I just-" he turned his head to the right slightly as he continued to look at you, frowning as he brows furrowed.

"I just get- nervous, with people. . Touching me," you finally managed to get out, sounding royally ashamed.

You had survived an illithid tadpole swimming around in your skull, the crashing of a ship you you were on only because of being abducted, countless perilous fights, and even knocked the head off of one or two goblins without ever skipping a beat.

But this. Proximity to someone that had never once tried to murder you, or handle you in a way you didn't want to be handled. . This terrified you?

It was only then that he realized you had always avoided being touched by others. You had never shown interest in any form of romance, or even friendly pats on the shoulder by the others in your little party.

You had always managed to casually and seamlessly avoid such interactions.

"Why do you get nervous being touched?" He asked, though he had his suspicions. "I assure you, love, there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of." He offered his hand out to you, but made no further attempt at contact. Remaining a respectful distance from you.

You looked away, a part of you desperately wanting to reach out and grasp his hand, feel the sensation that you had found yourself desperate to for.

You did not, however. You remained rigidly shaking in place as you looked away.

"You. . You said that Cazador, . . That he made you do things you didn't want to do? With him? And. . Others? " You whispered nervously.

It had been a conversation you had had with him some weeks ago, out on a ledge relaxing beneath the stars while the others slept.

He frowned at the mention, dropping his hand when the offer was not accepted.

"Yes," he replied, seeming slightly more guarded. "Why?"

You tensed as another roar of thunder raged in the sky, your eyes shutting.

"Well- someone. . Someone did things to me. To hurt me, and- and use me-" you looked up at him, eyes round and nervous, a part of you expecting to be met with disgust.

The expression you were met with however, was one of a silent understanding. The defense in his gaze softened.

Though the bitterness remained, you felt certainty that it was not directed towards you.

"I see," he replied, his suspicions finally being confirmed.

"So why are you here, then?" He tilted his head back slightly. "Trying to rewrite the pain in your past?" He guessed. "Well, I'm okay with that. Happy to be of service, darling." He offered you a charming smile as his weight shifted to one hip, his hand coming up to hang loosely at the wrist.

"No, actually," you replied, watching the false happiness slip off his features. "I-. . I wanted to ask if. . You would want. . " you scrunched your face, looking tortured.

"I can read your thoughts if you'd rather not say it aloud," he offered when you fell silent.

You looked only more pained by this offer, but nodded mutely, opening your mind to him as the request was caught in your throat.

He shut his eyes was he felt the connection take hold, swimming in your thoughts to latch on to the question stuck in your mind.

"Do I want to cuddle?" He demanded in confusion, taking an affronted step back, letting out a breathless laugh as he looked at you.

You tensed, shaking just a little harder at his reaction, your stomach twisting in a manner that made you glad you had not eaten that evening.

"I-. . No one's ever asked me that before," he went on, the vehemence in his voice dissipating as he looked at you, features taking on more trouble attributes.

He looked at you quietly, your small form shivering, your clothes clinging to your body wetly, making him wonder how long you had been outside his tent, too scared to come in and ask for such an odd. . Innocent, request.

The strange part was, it. . Sounded rather pleasant.

You had never asked anything of him before. You offered loyalty to him and never asked for anything in return. Not even his own loyalty to you.

You had fought for him. Saved him. Cared for his wounds, and been there for him in moments when he felt he could open up.

"I-" he hesitated as you stayed silently staring at him, waiting for something bad to happen.

He did not need an tadpole to read the nervousness and fear in your mind.

"-i think I would rather like tjat," he found himself genuinely admitting.

He offered his hand again to you, his demeanor soft and delicate. The same demeanor he had offered when he held you when you couldn't catch a healthy rhythm with your breathing.

You looked down at his hand, hesitantly stepping forward and putting your hand over his, feeling a rush if excitement and longing rush through you as you felt his fingers wrap gently around your hand.

You took another step closer to him, your mind almost blank as you shut your eyes, and wordless pressed your body against his in a gentle, soothing hug.

He hesitated as you did this, fairly certain no one had ever hugged him before this very moment.

It felt. . Warm. . Comforting, almost.

Safe.

He wrapped his arm around you after a moment of uncertainty, the hold tenuous and hesitant.

He kept your hand in his, pressed between your bodies up against your chests.

He shut his eyes, feeling himself melting into the embrace.

When you pulled away finally and looked up at him, he quietly used your hand still in his to tug you with him towards the bed on the ground. He sat down on top of the blanket, looking up at you wordlessly, his hand still tenderly grasping yours.

You took in a deep breath, looking down at him intently as you sat on the ground in front of him on folded legs, taking in another deep breath with nervous giddiness from the proximity.

It felt just as you had dreamed it. The warmth, the tenderness. .

You leaned forward for what Astarion instinctively expected to be a kiss, but found himself freezing when you pressed your forehead tenderly against his, your eyes shutting.

The soft little breaths you took in to try and calm yourself, soaking up the touch in a manner that clearly felt euphoric- it was not things that went unnoticed by the vampire spawn.

You were. . Positively adorable. The gentle way you hesitantly brought your hands up to let the very tips of your fingers touch either side of his face. The soft, earnest expression you wore as you soaked up the feeling of being touched . .

He shut his eyes, bringing his hands up to gently cover your hands, feeling your tadpole reaching out to his, should he want it.

Curious, he reached out, and felt himself tale an inhale as a feeling of warmth washed over him.

Feelings of care, and trust. understanding, and longing.

But not for the thing most people wanted from him. . It was a longing to be to see, as well as be seen. A longing for understanding.

He brought his hand to press against the mid of your back, gentle and coaxing, you slowly agreed to the request, and let him guide your body to press against his.

The touch felt so different than usual. Perhaps it was the connection of the tadpole, but it felt warm, and safe

You felt safe.

He had never felt such a sensation before in his life. To genuinely trust someone. To care for them.

There were small, subtle glimpse of pain in your thoughts. Ones that he found he wanted to prod at further, but resisted.

He brushed his nose against yours mindlessly, and you returned the action, feeling entranced as he opened his own mind mind you in return, letting you see how cared for you were with him.

You melted further into the touch, slipping your arms around his back, a hand coming up to the back of his hair mindlessly to play with the soft silver locks.

He brought his hands to your sides, keeping you pressed against him as he carefully headed backwards so you rested down on top of him, his fingers coming to run along the divot of your spine.

Wrapping your leg around him, you settled comfortably against him, the heaviness of your body on top of him feeling like a pleasant weighted blanket.

He let his hands roam along your wet clothes before making their way into your damp hair.

He wanted to ask how long exactly you had been out there to have gotten so wet, be he refrained, simply listening to the rain hit the tent as you both soaked up the comforting touch.

You folded the blanket up around the two of you after a time, and felt him roll you both a moment later.

You opened your eyes softly to look at him, gently resting your forehead against his once kore, though there was no tadpole connecting you this time.

"If you ever want someone," you whispered, bringing your fingers up to tenderly touch his cheek. "If you ever want to talk, or just. . Have someone to be with, I am here." You brushed your nose against his, watching his lids fall half closed.

He looked like he wanted to respond, but was perhaps, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words.

He felt an overwhelming sense for gratitude towards the offer. He had told you things before, but it had been in moments of weakness, or because it was necessary.

He had never shared just because.

"Well," he finally whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "This. . Offer, goes for you as well." He looked down, clearly trying his best, but having a hard time with more vulnerability.

"Thank you," you murmured, inching a little closer. "I'm. . Astarion, I'm so sorry, for everything you had to go through." The words were spoken with great feeling, your heart aching thinking about of of the things be had admitted to happening.

"It's in the past now, well isn't it," he replied, stroking your cheek. "But. . Thank you, love," he added with a great deal more hesitancy.

You smiled slightly, which he found did odd things to his insides.

He sighed mentally to himself. He was not going to allow himself to feel things things for you- he couldn't.

You were just-

His breathing froze as you shifted up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and head as you shifted him so his head rested against your chest, the position feeling incredibly shielding and warm.

He felt his stomach twist, his throat strangely tight.

He wrapped his arm around your torso hesitantly after a moment, apprehensive.

No one had ever- held him before. It was not how this worked-

And yet. . He found his eyes falling shut with sudden exhaustion.

He cursed you, unsure what exactly it was about your touch that had him feeling so. . Melty. But it was unaccept-

Singing?

His ears perked up slightly, distracted from his thoughts as a sweet, soft melody gripped his attention instead.

His body eased to rest more heavily against you as his muscles relaxed.

Perhaps. . It would be okay just to relax and enjoy for a little while? And then he could get back to his plotting and manipulations later. .

He took in a deep breath, feeling your fingers touching his hair tentatively, running the tips of them through the outer layers of the silvery strands.

The soft vibration of your chest as you switched between signing and humming different parts of the song had him entranced.

You kept your gaze on him as you did so, feeling your stomach twisting with giddiness.

This had been it. It was just like you had dreamed. . The feeling of his arms around you, the dim light of the lantern casting calming shadows.

The tender, warm touch with none of the unpleasantness.

It was everything you had been craving and more.

You shut your eyes after a time, feeling him slowly heating against you as he slipped off into peaceful slumber.

You slipped down sleepily after nearly an hour of just enjoying the position of holding him safely in your arms.

You felt him shift in his sleep as you settled down against him, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you close.

You pressed your forehead against his softly, eyes shutting, feeling his breath tickle your face with every slow exhale.

You let your leg rest loosely in-between his, wrapping your arm around his waist before settling.

You slipped off a little while later to join him in slumber, the soft drumming of the rain and rumbling thunder in the distance lulling you to sleep.

#Astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #fluff #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #fanfiction #fanfic #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion prompt #astarion one shot #astarion tag

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whumpback-wail · 11 months

Text

02 - What’s Real?

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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She could hear the commotion from all the way in her cell. (y/n) stirred from inside the cage she was kept in, too weak to move. Seems like another dream, it's always the same one lately, as if her subconscious still kept the hope alive when her conscious mind gave up a long time ago.

(y/n) cracked her heavy eyelids open, her eyes adjusting to the darkness rather quickly, considering the amount of time she had spent there. She no longer felt cold, her shivering had stopped a long time ago.

Wriothesley and his men would come through the door any moment now, and would pick her up and get her out of there, and she would wake up right as the sunlight hit her skin. She was all too familiar with the dream that had repeatedly occurred, bringing her hopes up only to shatter again when her eyes opened and she was still in the darkness of her cell-

Footsteps.

The door slammed open, making (y/n) flinch, her heart sank when she noticed that the silhouette at the door seemed to have a lab coat on.

Not a dream, get up.

(y/n) could feel herself start to hyperventilate, tears forming. What is he going to do now? She has nothing left, she was declared a failure already and left for dead. Wasn’t the beating last night enough?

No more, please-

The lab coat-clad figure stopped in front of her and nudged her with his foot, sending jolts of pain all over her body. “I’m afraid our time together must come to an end.” Arderne looked down at her and knelt, brushing hair away from her face, making her flinch in disgust.

“I would escape myself and let you go or die alone, whatever, but you know too much, and I'm not risking it.”

(y/n) felt him put his hand over her nose and mouth, squeezing them both shut. Her eyes widened, her air supply was cut off. Hwr body seemed to move on its own, trying to tear his hands away, to claw his face, but she was too weak. It had been so long since they last fed her..

The darkness at the corners of her eyes started closing in and soon everything was black.

“Goodbye 1102” was the last thing she heard.

(y/n) felt like she was drifting through the darkness, the pains and aches in her body numbed by the cold. At least she wasn’t in pain. In moments like these during her captivity were when her mind drifts. Coming back to the memories of her fiancé, the bright happy days felt so far out of reach, almost like a fabricated memory. Pain has been her reality for a while, she didn’t know how much longer she could endure it.

The darkness stretched before her as she continued to sink through its comforts. She could vaguely hear someone talking, a deep voice, slurred and muddled. She didn’t want to wake up, not anymore. If this is it then she wanted to go while it’s peaceful.

Suddenly a sharp pain burst from her chest, startling her. Involuntarily she could feel herself being tugged back to reality, and in her dazed state, she felt herself cough hard.

What’s going on? I can’t do this anymore, it hurts. Please, make it stop-

In her panicked haze, (y/n) almost missed the feeling of arms around her, and a very strong chest.

No… No no no no they sent someone this strong, how am i supposed to take another beating? I can’t-

I can’t.

Please no more.

She tried in vain to push and get away from him, but he held her firmly and effortlessly.

(y/n) felt herself losing consciousness again, her whole body felt like jelly.

Please… Just let me die.

• • •

She was back again in the comfort of the dark.

(y/n) wondered if she’s actually dead now. Perhaps her body couldn’t take it anymore? Eitherway, she no longer felt pain, so that’s a plus.

Her thoughts drift to Wriothesley, as it always does whenever she gets a moment of respite. She remembered the way his canines flash every time he gave her the grin he only reserved for her. How is he? Will I ever see him again?

The regret felt like broken glass was coursing through her veins. (y/n) wished she could cry, but her heart felt numb, as if devoid of emotions.

I want to see him.

I just need to see him one last time.

I need to say my goodbyes and tell him it’s okay to move on.

I need to tell him I love him, and that I'm sorry.

With every thought, she felt the pain intensify, more and more until she felt the familiar tugging, as if her body was pulling her back to the surface of consciousness. And the closer she came to the surface.

It hurts.

Her eyes shot open.

The first thing that greeted her once her eyes focused was the ceiling. The darkness of the room indicated that the lights were off, with the soft light coming from the small crack underneath a door providing minimal light for her to see. Panic rose inside her as her ears picked up the beeping noises coming from her right, it seemed to increase in frequency as her heart started racing faster. A hospital room. Arderne.

What made him decide to take her back? She thought she was labelled a failed subject already?

Trying not to panic, (y/n) winced as she sat up slowly, and looked around the room. She could make out a figure, a mountain of a person, bundled up under blankets. The person seemed fast asleep on the couch at the corner of the room.

She tried to control her breathing, get her heart rate down.

(y/n) knew she would be punished if she woke this person up, and she didn’t want to take another beating, not with this person, they look so big. Memories of her beating flashed behind her eyes.

A flurry of fists.

Hard boots.

In her panic, she did not notice the figure starting to stir.

Wriothesley blinked, and shot up to his feet the moment he noticed her heart monitor going wild.

“(y/n), you’re awake?” he rushed to her side.

But that only seemed to make her panic more, she’s hyperventilating at this point, the heart monitor beeps kept increasing in frequency.

“I-I’m sorry.” (y/n) flinched away from him, “I didn’t mean to wake you, please. I’m sorry.”

“What- (y/n), it’s me, you’re safe now-” he raised his hand to soothe her, but the sudden motion seemed to set her off. She cried out and raised her arm to shield herself. The heart monitor started ringing. Alerting the medical staff outside.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Wriothesley wanted to murder the people who did this.

"(y/n), sshhh, listen to my voice, you're safe now. It's me, Wriothesley. Whatever you think you're seeing is not real-"

Right then the room door opened and medical staff rushed in with a crash cart. With a quick glance around the room assessing the situation, the nurse immediately knew what was going on.

“Sir, I need you to step back. We’ll help.” She said as she and several more nurses went closer to the bed to sedate (y/n).

“I’m sorry!” (y/n) was back in the facility again. The experiment chambers, the injections. The pain

So much pain.

She can’t take that again. Not again.

Nurses held down her arms and legs as (y/n) started to thrash and cry. No more. Please.

Wriothesley could only watch, helpless, as he sank back to the couch. He watched (y/n)’s thrashing slowly stop, and her heart rate going down as her eyes slowly flutter shut. Her mouth kept repeating apologies and pleas to not hurt her.

He couldn’t do anything.

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(˶╥︿╥)ﾉ ……(ó﹏ò｡)

A/N:

And that concludes chapter 2! What do you think of the story so far?

Why do I enjoy the emotional anguish hnghh. I wanna comfort Wrio so bad but seeing him go through all the angst is... satisfying? Its weird. Anw new chapter coming in a week-ish, and you'll see a but more of what (y/n) went through during her captivity.

Until then, I'm trying to focus on finding (art) commission clients, November has been like a dry river. I hope I find clients soon :")

Oh and Arderne is an NPC in Meropide, a doctor, I just uhh… borrowed his character to be the villain (sorry Arderne)

Taglist (I couldn't tag some of you (red colour), how do I solve this?): @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #whump #anime whump #whump community #whump writing #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader angst #genshin impact fanfic #wriothesley angst

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 8 months

Text

I Don’t Want You To Go - Carlos Sainz

You didn't know. Well, you knew, but you didn't want to admit that you knew. It had been bubbling away for a while, but you didn't think it would actually happen. But now, sitting there, scrolling through your phone, learning at the same time as the rest of the world, your heart broke and bled scarlet.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to laugh or cry. It was all some sick joke, but it felt like April 1st couldn't come quick enough. You read it over and over until the words made no sense and formed into a hazy cloud before your eyes.

Reading Carlos' statement was the hard part. That was the part that broke you. It made the whole situation feel a whole lot more real. You were sitting on the edge between pure fury, and uncontrollable sadness, and you couldn't fathom which you were going to topple into.

You wouldn't be where you were without Carlos, you owed everything you had to him. You wouldn't have your dream job if it weren't for him. He had recommended you way back when, in his first year at Ferrari, and the rest was history.

But now you were getting through the final chapters of your story together, and yours would have to continue on like the unloved sequel that was written for a quick cash grab. Like a cheap jab at the continuation of a character who had died off in the first book.

Messages from people flooded in, the notifications barraging the top of your phone. They all asked if you knew. It was an interesting question, wasn't it? If you knew. If you knew. If only you knew. Would it have made this easier? No.

The pain would have gone on for longer.

You shoved your phone under one of the cushions on your couch, not wanting to even see the notifications pop up on screen combined with Carlos' and Ferrari's points. It didn't bring the same joy anymore.

You'd have to go into work the next day as well. See everyone, see all the memories you had made in the form of the Maranello factory and count down the days until there'd be no more memories to be had.

Sleeping was impossible. Completely unfathomable. Absolutely undoable. You just wanted your bed to swallow you up, engulf you in the duvets then keep you there for the rest of eternity. Maybe it'd take the agony away as well. He wasn't even gone yet, but it still hurt.

Walking into the factory the next day was one of the hardest things you would ever have to do. You kept your eyes down at your feet, trying to distract yourself with work. Everyone knew you would be hurt the most by this, since they knew how close the two of you were. It was obvious.

"Can we talk?" a voice snapped you out of your daze as the voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Not right now," you whispered, trying to make yourself seem busy so that he'd go away. But he knew you better than that, and you knew he was stubborn.

"Please," he added, staring holes into the side of your face. You stood from your desk, unable to bring yourself to look at him. He walked in front of you, the prancing horse still rearing proud on his back, but, in your eyes at least, it didn't carry the same scuderia spark that it used to.

He led you into an empty conference room, and the air felt thick with discomfort. "You're really leaving?" you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. You hadn't said it outloud yet, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

"I don't have a choice," he replied, trying to will you with his mind to look at him, but you weren't taking the hint. You didn't want to cry.

"I don't want you to go, Carlos," you mumbled, your voice breaking as you screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. But the tears were strong willed as they trickled down your cheeks.

"I don't want to go either, but hey, you still have me for the whole of this season and you'll still see me around all the time after," he tried to comfort you, also fighting back the tears. He never wanted anyone to be upset by this, but it was inevitable.

"That's not enough... it's just not enough..." you said, slowly moving closer to him. No amount of time with him there would have been enough, but now you knew the clock was ticking, it felt like the hands were moving all too fast.

"C'mere," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you as you buried your head into his chest. Your tears left darkened red stains, but that didn't matter in the slightest. "It's going to be OK, it's OK," he soothed, when he was really the one in need of comfort.

Keeping one arm wrapped around your waist, the other gently stroking your hair. But instead of the comforting gesture it normally was, it felt more like an unspoken apology. "It wasn't my decision," he said.

"I know," you nodded, clinging onto him for dear life. It felt like you'd blink and he'd disappear from in front of you. "You're so good Carlos, so goddamn good," you rambled, your attempts at reassuring him falling flat in your opinion.

Carlos appreciated the effort nonetheless. "I'll miss you..." you carried on, but he didn't reply. Replying would mean having to fully accept that it was over, and that he was going to be leaving at the end of the season.

He was never one for living in the present and not thinking about the future, but now was the time he wouldn't take a second for granted, and he'd work his damn socks off to make this season phenomenal. For himself, for Ferrari, for the fans.

You were showing no signs of letting go, and you wanted to hold onto him until the world crumbled out from underneath your feet. The curtains would soon be closing on Carlos' time at Ferrari, and you'd stand at the end, waiting for the encore.

A/N - I already said this earlier today, but I figured it’d be more appreciated on the end of this. ‘65 years ago today, 3 music legends died in a plane crash. That was regarded as the day the music died. For me, that was 2 days ago. I am so devastated it’s not even a joke at this point. Forza Ferrari, or whatever.’

It just doesn’t quite feel real, does it? I knew Carlos wouldn’t be able to stay forever, but I thought there’d be some sort of extension. Not Hamilton going to Ferrari. Fuming.

|masterlist|

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year

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So, you know how there are a bunch of Fics where one of the Robins comes back as a ghost when they die? Most of the time it’s Jason, sometimes Tim, and Dick and Damian once in a blue moon

But has there ever been a Ghost Cass AU?

Cass dies while on Patrol, maybe is was a villainous plot, maybe it was a random goon getting a lucky shot, maybe she was killed by somebody she trusted...maybe...

Whatever way she died, Cass ends up as a Ghost.

I can see 2 different paths this could take, depending on where she reforms:

PATH 1: Cass Reforms where she died

Cass is reformed where she died, probably very soon afterwards or a few hours later. The Batfamily have not had time to get over their Grief, they only just retrieved her Body an hour ago and need to go back to the crime scene to investigate.

And once they get there, they see what looks like Cass’s Orphan costume but colored differently, just sitting there in a daze. She just became a ghost, only a few hours after her death due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits, and it was Jarring. Not to mention the Pure Ectoplasm she is made of is reacting weirdly to the corrupted Ectoplasm that is in Jason, making her anxious.

Meanwhile [Insert Batfam member] and Jason are confused, scared, and paranoid. [Batfam member] remembers reading a few articles in passing while researching Lazarus Pits. They were about the Ectoplasmic Entities made from Lazarus Water called Ghosts, how they are imprints of a human consciousness after an emotional death. They are also completely malevolent and non-sentient.

[Batfam Member] doesn’t hope to believe that this is Cass, all the research says that this is a pile of goop pretending to be her. Of course this makes them mad, not only is this thing wearing their sisters face, it will also probably hurt people when it gets strong enough using said face. It feels like an insult. And Cass can’t even defend herself to them, since she lost whatever was left of her ability to speak when she became a Ghost, and she is too dazed and weak to do Sign Language.

[Batfam Member] explains what they know about Ghosts to Jason, how this isn’t Cass at all, just an imprint of her memories. They say this right in front of her, which scares her since they don’t seem to consider her a person anymore, just a thing using Cass’s face

Back when they first read up on Ectoplasmic Entities, he made sure to get a small Ecto-Infused Knife for everyone in the Family in case they ever encountered one.

They bring it out, but before they can do anything, the Ghost of Cass recognizes it and runs away.

Jason is mad that [Batfam Member] instantly went for the knife, or didn’t think to look for any second opinions.

Cass runs to the Batcave, but she gets there as [Batfam Member] is explaining what Ghosts are on the big screen to everybody else. She also sees her own body, laying on a table in the center of the room. She starts to believe that [Batfam Member] is right, that she can’t be the real Cass, just a reflection. And she can’t stay here, the others are bound the believe [Batfam Member] over her now

She runs away, not even revealing herself to her family.

She runs and runs and runs for hours upon hours, non stop, across state lines, until she reaches a place where her instincts were telling her to go. It feels like the air is clear, like she has more energy. She has made it to Amity Park.

From there you can go in any direction you want.

PATH 2: Cass Reforms in the Zone

Cass reforms in a random place in the Zone, in a color swapped version of her Orphan costume. She wakes up to see a sky of green and ground of purple, completely alone, no one around her.

She wanders for a bit, but a run-in with a Monster forces her to run. As it chases her, she finds that she can fly, but so can it.

As she is running, a blast comes from above her and blasts the monster away. She looks up to see a guy with Green-Blue Skin, pointy ears, and white hair, in a Black Hazmat Suit, floating above her.

He introduces himself as Phantom, and explains that she must be a Ghost. She can’t respond because she lost the last of her ability to speak, but thankfully he knows Sign Language

She can’t remember how she died, but she remembers most of the rest of her life. She takes off her mask, and you can see that she looks like normal Cass with Green Skin, white Hair, and the pointy ears. Also small fangs cause I think those are cool.

Danny helps her around, teaches her about the Zone, introduces his living friends, all that. She even meets a cute clone named Ellie, but that’s besides the point. Eventually, after a few weeks of traveling the Zone and learning about her new abilities, she asks if she can go see her family. Danny agrees, but says that first he should teach her how to shapeshift so she can look human enough to go to the living world.

Which is how Danny and Cass learn that Cass is a Halfa (due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits). While she is thinking of her human form, a ring of gold energy surrounds her and she suddenly has a heartbeat again. She’s also extremely hungry cause Ghosts don’t need to eat, but Halfa’s do (even if it is significantly less)

By the time she goes to see her Family, they are not as high strung or paranoid as they would have been directly after her death, so they are more willing to listen to reason. Also with Danny there (and maybe ellie), he can explain what she can’t.

But now they don’t know what to do, they still haven't figured out who killed Cass, all they know is that she was definitely killed, it wasn’t an accident.

What comes Next? I also don’t know, I need suggestions!

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thewulf · 7 months

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My Purpose || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can you do a Aragorn x Female Reader where she’s from earth not middle earth? Like the modern reader in middle earth trope? Reader dies in an accident of some sort and wakes up in a field in Rivendell. It’s right before everyone is gathering for the Council of Elrond... Read Rest Here

A/N: LOVED writing this one. Aragorn is just... the best. This one got away from me, as usual. Thank you for the requests!! Hope you like this as much as I loved writing this :) Love a good modern girl in middle earth trope!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 7.5k +

TW: swords, blades, training, homesickness

It still didn’t seem real. The vast valley with flowing waterfalls where the light seemed to hit perfectly. Standing out on the balcony of the room you were given for however long you were permitted to stay you watched as the city ebbed and flowed throughout the day. You had no idea how long you sat there watching from the mansion of the home of the elf-man that had found you for you had no idea how to tell time here. You’d either lost you phone or the elves had taken it from you. The thought of actual elves sent shivers down your spine. It had only been a few days since you’d woken up in this place that definitely wasn’t close to home. There wasn’t even electricity that you could tell, at least not in your room. It wasn’t that you weren’t given the opportunity to leave you just didn’t want to. These elves were terribly intimidating, so beautiful and even the children seemed to stand taller than you.

Nobody had so much bothered you other than Elrond coming to check in on you a few times throughout each day with food in his hand each time. It wasn’t until the fourth day that he came without it.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke at the open door leading to the balcony. He had tried knocking at the door a few times. He was more concerned than anything when you didn’t answer for it had become a sort of a routine at this point for him to greet you at your door. You never really wanted him to come in further, so you never invited him in.

You jumped slightly in your stupor being interrupted by your usual companion, “Lord Elrond. I’m sorry. I was just watching, didn’t hear you.”

He nodded before walking out to sit next to you on the bench you were already occupying, “Are you well? A friend of mine has told me you have been out here in a daze nearly all day.”

You turned your head to him with a small smile, “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“What ever about?” He pressed. You had been fairly tight lipped about how you ended up here. It’s not like you wish you couldn’t tell him about how you got here you just didn’t know. You were… different. Your clothing was something he had never seen. You had called them jean pants and a polyester blouse. You might have been speaking an entirely different language. Regardless he had given you back you clothes plus some elven dress clothes that he had hemmed shorter fort you. He was pleasantly surprised that on the third day you were wearing the newly provided elven clothes to your strange human clothes.

“Home. The memories are starting to become harder to recall. It’s weird. It’s like they’re all fuzzy. I’m afraid…” You swallowed back a frightening wave of emotions as you spoke to the kind elderly elf, “I’m afraid I will forget it all. My mom and dad. My friends and family. What it was like… It was nothing like this.”

He grabbed for your fidgeting hand that was clearly in distress, “Tell me what you can recall. I will not forget. I will tell you of your own memories.” He bowed his head towards you letting you know his utmost sincerity at the request.

Giving him a sad smile, you gave into his request finally. It did you no good to hide it all away and seem to forget it completely. Then you may never make it home. Telling him was really you only option at this point, “I miss my mom the most. We never got along the best when I lived at home, but we’ve become close after I’ve left home for school. I was just hoping that if I never make it home that she had some sort of closure.” You sighed feeling the weight of reality setting in. You thought maybe you would just wake up int you bed one morning but that was certainly not happening.

He cocked his head to the side, “You went off for school? Tell me about your mother. What was she like?” He pressed knowing you would crave these memories should you forget them for some odd reason. You were a puzzle for Elrond. He couldn’t connect the dots.

“Only once you become an adult. Once you turn eighteen you can enter the workforce full time or go to advanced education called college or university.” You paused thinking further about his second question. Your mother. What was she like? She was remarkable, “My mom is an angel. She thinks of those she loves above all else. She taught me how to be a good human. How to be kind in the face of adversity. How to face challenges head on and with a smile on my face. She’s the reason I’m not sitting here crying every day. But the thoughts of not seeing her again… I knew it would happen one day just not so soon. Not before I got married and had kids and… I’m sorry I’m rambling.” You quieted down almost afraid to look into his eyes once more.

“You are lucky to have her. Do not give up. We have not talked to Gandalf. He has just arrived and wishes to speak to you. He’s been informed of your strange arrival.” Elrond spoke hoping it would be easy to persuade you to come with him outside your room in his home.

“Gandalf?” You asked. It sounded so familiar. His name so strange yet I come right to the forefront of your mind as if you’d heard it before when he spoke it.

Elrond nodded holding out his hand to you, “He is a wizard. If anybody should have answers it would be him.”

“A wizard?” You’d remembered Harry Potter, maybe he could whisk you home through some Floo powder or something of the sort.

Elrond nodded his head, “A very dear old friend of mine. He may have better knowledge than I on your situation. I have scoured all the libraries of Imladris and could find no such cases as yours.”

You took his hand letting him lead you through his home and out the back towards the gardens you’d come to know and love in your short stay thus far. You opened and closed your mouth a few times to continue the conversation between you and Elrond, but you could not find the words to ask the question you wanted. When you finally stopped you were greeted by exactly what you pictured a wizard to look like. He looked like Dumbledore. Your heart warmed in comfort as his eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Y/N, my dear. Elrond has told me so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over towards you making sure to greet the both of you. His eyes, however, never left you. He was all too curious of the mortal human girl not from middle earth Elrond had told him so little about.

You dipped your head in slight unease over the entire ordeal. You, indubitably, knew that you were the talk of the town but to hear it out loud sent your heart racing. Being the middle child growing up meant you spent your life hidden and out of the way. Overshadowed by your older siblings accomplishments and overlooked for your younger siblings needs. You kind of felt like you were just floating by until you had moved out and your relationship had grown drastically with your mom and siblings.

“Uhm, likewise. Sir wizard.” You gave him that shy smile where your head tilted to the side trying to read him.

A subtle chuckle emanated from the elderly man’s lips, “You may call me Gandalf, dear Y/N. Now, we don’t have too much time before the council joins this afternoon for a final decision to be made. Come sit, Lord Elrond will join us. Start from the beginning, do you remember the last time you were home?” He led you to the small table in the garden that was likely used for afternoon tea, not for conversations such of these.

You knew you’d have to tell your story all over again so you might as well get it over with, “It was cold. A really cold and miserable day in Indiana. Middle of winter. Lots of snow. Blizzard like conditions.” You sighed recounting your seemingly last minutes on earth. You’d concluded you had died but it was weird to say it out loud. To admit your defeat, “There was a really bad accident on the road home. Big pileup. I was able to stop my car in time but the people behind me were not able to. My car was pushed under a semi where I was trapped. I don’t remember much else other than panicking because I couldn’t get out… My car started making weird noises. I’m pretty sure my engine exploded from being crushed in a way it shouldn’t have. I’m pretty sure I died.” You frowned accepting your death. God, you hoped your family had closure. That they were okay.

Gandalf bobbed his head considering your story, “What is a car? A semi? An engine?” He needed help with your strange words he’d never heard of before. Surely this was proof enough that you were from nowhere near here.

You laughed more to yourself than at his lack of knowledge, “Cars are new in my world. We were using horses and carriages not even a hundred years ago. A car uses and engine to propel forward instead of a horse. It uses some sort of fuel and ignition to propel cranks and wheels forward making your car go forward. A car is just an enclosed carriage. And a truck is just a massive car to transport goods.”

He continued listening to you, “That sounds like an unpleasant death.”

You hummed in agreement, “For what it’s worth I don’t remember it hurting. Just waking up here in the middle of a field. I’m fortunate to have run into his sons and not something more sinister from the sounds of it.”

Gandalf ran his hands along his beard, “Fortunate or you were placed for a reason. Curious.” He paused giving you another once over before continuing, “Elrond speaks as if you know of this world even though you may not be from here?” The old wizard pressed as his eyes bore into yours even though you couldn’t quite meet his gaze completely.

You agreed with him, “Yes, some things seem familiar. Like I’ve seen things here before.”

Elrond finally spoke up, “Tell him what you told me the other night. When you first got here.”

You turned your head looking between the two males, “I asked if you were gathering to talk about the ring.”

“How do you know of the ring?” Gandalf looked between you and Elrond with a perplexed expression on his face.

You shook your head trying to recall but the memories were becoming fuzzy. The further your time away from home the harder it was becoming to recall memories from your time there, “I believe it was a story of some sort where I’m from. We have books as well and it was a book written for entertainment.”

Gandalf eyed you before turning his attention to Elrond, “You must keep Y/N in your home. If you are correct and the fellowship is formed later we may need your knowledge before we partake on the quest. Even after.” The wizard’s eyes flashed with a newfound hope having you show up the most opportune of time. The more he thought about it the less curious you become. You were becoming more and more so seemingly a gift from Eru Ilúvatar himself.

Elrond bowed his head in acceptance of Gandalf’s decree, “How are your quarters now Lady Y/N? You may have an extended stay. I can move you to a different spot in the house if you would like.”

“That’s not necessary. The room is great.” You gave him a genuine smile and thumbs up before turning back to Gandalf, “But what about home? Lord Elrond said you may be able to get me home?” You asked with the same hope you seemed to give him.

But his frown told you all that you needed to know, “My child. You had died on your home. You have been given another chance. Likely because we prayed for you and you passed on too early in your own life.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze from his seat next to you.

Your eyes drifted down in that sadness you had been holding back. You knew that was somehow going to be the answer, but it still didn’t sting any less actually hearing it from him, “So I’m stuck here?” The question came out closer

Elrond took the liberty of grabbing for your hand trying to provide any sort of comfort, “You get to live out the rest of your life here.” Gandalf nodded knowing that was exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

“Can you tell me if my family got closure? They know I’ve passed?” You asked feeling squeezing Elrond’s hand right back, thankful he had given you that small amount of comfort. It had been days since you’ve had physical contact with anyone or anything. You thought you hated it but man did you miss it. You craved it.

The wizard gave you solemn shake of his head, “For that I cannot be certain young one. But I can be certain that you have been put here for a reason. You have been given another chance. I would not waste it.” Gandalf rose giving you and Elrond a bow before walking away, “I must take to conversation with Boromir before this afternoon. I shall see you in due time.” He waved more towards Elrond than you leaving you that much more confused than when you had started.

Your eyes upturned to Lord Elrond still holding your hand from the seat next to yours. His kind brown eyes had turned sympathetic in the news Gandalf had given you. All he could do was offer his own kindness to the ever out of place human girl giving him a crushed look, “You are more than welcome to stay here in Rivendell. Most of the residents and my children have decided to set sail as the time has come.”

“Thank you.” Giving him a small smile that hardly reached your cheeks you let the news consume you. You were quiet as he led you back to your room. Your official room now that you had zero plans of getting out of here. At least it was easily the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“Lunch will be soon. Shall I bring you a plate or would you care to join me in the halls this time?” He asked pressing his luck once he had dropped you back off in your room.

“A plate is fine. Thank you again Elrond. I’d like to think on my own for a bit if you do not mind.”

“As you wish.” He bowed before gliding off. He sent one more concerned look before you shut yourself out from the elven world. Damn. You were stuck in a place called middle earth. Who would’ve thought this could’ve been your life?

You found yourself in the same gardens later that night after your handmaiden had brought you dinner. Flush with emotions you found yourself crying and not being able to stop once you’d found a somewhat secluded spot hidden away.

“Excuse me miss? Are you all right?” A man had asked breaking you out of your own head full of thoughts and tears. Your sniffles must have drawn the dark-haired strangers attention to your quiet corner that nobody had seemed to bother you in, until now.

You turned seeing that handsome man you had spotted a few times since the Council of Elrond had begun. You were all too curious what they discussed for hours on end, but it had to have been critical so many seemingly important people to gather to discuss matters. Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of the elven dress all you could do was nod rapidly, “I am okay. Just terribly overwhelmed is all.”

He cocked his head to the side looking you over, “You speak differently than any human woman I have talked to. You must be the mortal girl Elrond has spoken of?” You did not have the height nor the ears to be an elf he concluded. But, you certainly had the beauty to rival an elf. Aragorn was quite taken aback at your doe-eyed expression on his even though your eyes were blood-shot from the many tears you had spilt.

Letting out a laugh you could only agree with him, “If only you know how weird you sound to me too. But yes, I am.” You confirmed by meeting your eyes with his icy blue ones. You pushed back your rushing thoughts of just how stunning this stranger was. Everybody here in this middle earth seemed otherworldly. Beautiful beyond belief. A far cry from your home however far away it was.

His eyes roamed over you for the first time up close. He had seen you sitting on the balcony from Elrond’s residence a few times in the few days he’d arrived. But this was the first he’d seen the other worldly girl up close and personal. Elrond made no mention of your simple beauty. Your big, beautiful eyes laced in a red stain from the tears you’d been clearly crying made his heart twist unexpectantly.

He too was in the process of grieving a loss of his own. His Arwen, his first love, had taken to sailing away. Truly, he had no idea what she would choose in the end and chose the best for herself and her family. He could never blame her, no. He pushed her to go do exactly that. He would always have love in his heart for the ellith he could never have. How blissful were the few years he got to spend with her… they were everything and more. But she had to go. Elrond, her father, pushed her off a few months ago and that was that for him. He was no stranger to the sadness in your expression.

“Dare I ask why?” The man walked towards you stopping just shy. Closer than any of the other elves or man had dared to step to you. Other than Lord Elrond, your healer, and Ioanoa, your handmaiden, assigned to you by the lord for the time being.

His eyes looked innocent enough. Might as well tell him as you really didn’t have anything to lose anymore. You’ve already lost it all, “I am forgetting everything of my home. I barely remember my mom’s face now. I’m worried I’ll forget it all. I have to accept that this is my new life. I just… I never got to say goodbye. I can’t remember everyone anymore, but I know I had people I loved, I just feel it.”

He contemplated what to say for a moment as he had never come across a situation so complex as yours before. He did not know what to tell you. He could never fathom your situation. Essentially dying in your own reality to wake up in something so different only to forget where you came from? Aragorn shuddered at the thought. He might’ve even gone mad at the thought.

“Fear not. They will not forget you. They will always be looking for you or have thoughts of you. You may forget the fine details of them, but you will never forget of them and their love. Like you said, you can feel it.” He placed a hand over his heart praying his words offered you some sort of comfort.

You looked down wiping the fresh tears away, “What if they do forget me?”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder drawing your eyes back up to him, “From what I hear it sounds like your mother had much love for you. As long as she walks in her world she will have love for you. As long as you walk in middle earth you will have love for her.” Aragorn was nervous as he met your eyes once more. He felt relief wash over him as you kept his gaze and gave him a gentle smile. You weren’t mad, not in the slightest. You looked relieved at his words.

“Thank you, sir.” You had yet to get or catch his name. You’d learned of a few of the other members through Elrond’s stories, but he had yet to come up. He seemed to be human. You couldn’t spot anything that made him stand out as anything other than. But who new in this middle earth.

He returned your soft smile with one of his own, “Aragorn is my name.”

“Thank you, Aragorn. Mine is Y/N.” His eyes remained on yours as you couldn’t keep ahold of his gaze. He was daunting in the best way. Handsome beyond belief. Words of advice more than you can dream of. Smarter than any man on earth you’d had to converse with. You’d been talking to him for less than thirty minutes, yet you had deduced he was the entire package. The first man you’d met on this planet was far better than any man on your earth.

He nodded taking a seat at the bench you were previously occupying, “Would it be rude of me to say that I already knew of that? You have been quite the discussion amongst the fellowship and council.”

You continued to stand there unsure of if you should join him or not. Would it be weird if you just stood there? Would it be weird to sit on the already small bench with him? Thankfully he must have seen your dilemma as he patted the seat next to you, inviting you to sit next to him. Trying not to make things more awkward for yourself you obliged sitting down next to him before continuing the conversation, “You all talk about me?”

He broke out into a cheeky grin, “Aye. You are most of the conversation. We cannot figure you out.”

Oh, was that all this was? He was simply trying to figure you out? That deflated whatever hope you had right then and there, “There’s not much to figure out. I’m a girl not meant to be here.” The tone of your voice came out more bitterly than it had prior sending Aragorn on edge. Had he said something?

“Indeed. That’s the perplexing part. Why are you here?” He asked more to himself than to you. A question nobody could seem to answer for a sure fact.

You shrugged, “Has to be by mistake.”

He shook his head, “I do not believe so. Nothing happens by chance here. The Valar have placed you here for a reason. We may not know now but we will soon figure it out.”

You let out a soft laugh, “How different your world is than mine.” Failing to elaborate you just looked ahead longing for your home. It was lovely here, but it wasn’t home. Even though you forgot most of what made home, home. You still longed for something you couldn’t completely remember.

“What do you miss the most of your home?” He asked hoping that talking about it would help take your mind away from the sadness that seemed to be overcoming you. Talking to you was helping him immensely. He had no idea how heavy the council’s discussions had been plus the loss of his love was weighing heavily on him. But talking to you seemed to help even if he didn’t even realize it.

“I think it’s my family and friends. As boring and monotonous my life was my family and friends were just down the road or a drive away.” You frowned having a sinking feeling you’d never see you best friend or brother again. You’d never get to tell your mom and dad how much you loved them.

He nodded, “I live a very… nomadic life. I understand the heaviness your heart undergoes. My love, she left not too long ago. I have been wandering ever since she set sail.” Aragorn admitted to you. It came out all too easily. You had admitted what was making you sad it felt too natural to do the same. He wanted to be vulnerable with you. So different from how he felt with nearly everyone since Arwen had left.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You felt guilty for talking about you when his heart was hurting just as much as yours, “I’m so sorry. I have never truly been in love. I can’t imagine how that feels. I hope it gets easier for you.”

“Talking to you helps, my lady.” He smiled grabbing for your hand hesitantly. When you didn’t pull away he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “You are a great mystery, fascinating beyond belief, seemingly selfless and kinder than the day is long. As sad as you are I hope that you can find the beauty in middle earth too.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” You looked away sure that there was a blush coating your cheeks, “I do find it beautiful here. Your world is not polluted like mine is. The air is fresh, the animals are plentiful, the water is safe. It is like an old version of a world that humans have not destroyed.”

He frowned, “Just humans?”

“Yep. There are no elves or dwarves or hobbits where I’m from. There are no evil monsters or magic or any kind, that I know of. Just humans and a polluted world.” You hummed missing your messy home.

He looked at your warily, “I will not lie, that sounds miserable miss Y/N.”

You laughed, your hand was still sitting in his comfortably, “We know no different. It is rather boring compared to all of this.”

He cracked a more genuine smile than you had seen from him yet, “You are honest. Be careful.”

You sighed, “Here too?”

“Bad people take advantage of good ones.” He nodded his head solemnly, “You are fine in Rivendell though. The elves will treat you well, as a novelty.”

You scrunched your eyes trying to figure out why, “Why? Because I’m a human?”

“Your entire lifetime is less time than it takes for them to mature to adulthood. There is nothing that anyone here could want from you other than to learn about mortality.”

You blinked at him, “Are elves immortal?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Indeed.”

“Oh, wow.” You gulped at the knowledge.

“In fact, humans have the shortest span among sentient creatures in middle earth.” He said as if you weren’t already a little more than freaked out by the new revelation of the home you had been invited too earlier in the day.

Considering his words you continued along, “Makes you feel a little useless.”

He continued looking at you as you got vulnerable with him in turn, “On the positive side, nothing you can do can’t be undone. It cannot be messed up too severely.”

Your smile reached your eyes for the first time since you’d landed in middle-earth thanks to this handsome man, “I like your optimism Aragorn.”

He reached for your hand like Elrond had earlier giving it a soft squeeze, “I heard the news of your guidance from Gandalf. I am sorry your life on your earth was cut short to be here. But I am thankful for the gift we have been given. I am sure you have heard of the formation of the fellowship by now. It will be but a few fortnights before we depart as we prepare. I hope to see you soon before we are set to depart.” He spoke as he knew the journey to Mordor would be long and deadly.

“I am planning to attempt to pick up a sword here tomorrow with Elladan as a teacher here tomorrow at sunrise. If Elrond doesn’t have you busy then maybe you would care to join us?” You invited him taking any chance at the opportunity to spend time with him.

He bowed his head slowly at you, “I will see to it. Until then, lady Y/N it has been a pleasure talking with you this evening.” He stood pulling you up with him, “I trust that you can make it back to your chambers on your own?” He looked around hesitantly knowing it was perfectly safe here in Rivendell. Likely safer than anywhere on your home earth considering the elves were guarding it.

“I can. Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” You waved as he walked away. As much as you tried you couldn’t erase the silly little smile that crossed your face as you walked back to your room.

Aragorn was not there when you and Elladan began to train. Nobody had informed you how downright exhausting it was to hold a sword, defend yourself and attack all at the same time. You’d never felt so damn weak before as you worked up a sweat within minutes of beginning the session ordered by Elrond. Lord Elrond was going to see through on his promise to Gandalf. He was going to keep you safe. Who knew how you fit into the puzzle of destroying the ring and saving middle earth? Keeping you safe meant making sure meant knowing how to wield a weapon.

“Not bad, keep your eyes moving though. Someone could sneak up right beside you and strike.” You heard that same voice from last night. He kept true to his word by placing a dull blade against your rib cage. One more move and he could slice into your side if he wasn’t careful. But you had the feeling he was being more than careful.

You took the opportunity to rest and lowered the heavy blade you’d been sparring Elladan with and turned to the taller human male next to you, “Spare me. This is the first time I’ve picked one of these up.” You motioned to the dull blade meant for sparring, “These are heavier than they look.”

“You are faring quite well for it being the first time you picked up a blade.” Elladan smiled taking a few steps back seeing the way Aragorn was watching you. It was the same way he had watched over his sister after they had professed a love for one another. A spark that had vanished after Arwen left nearly half a year ago. Yet here you were. A human girl not even born under the Valar, hand-picked by Eru Ilúvatar to be here, giving Aragorn a hope that he so desperately needed before this quest.

You laughed after catching your breath, “You are just being nice. I’m an out of shape mess.”

Elladan took a few more steps back while shrugging his shoulders, “You’re a natural then, my lady. Forgive me. I must go. I see my father calling. I see that Aragorn can continue your lessons?”

You being none the wiser simply shrugged looking between the two of them who had funny expressions written on their faces as you waited for his answer, “I do not see Lord Elrond summoning you.” Aragorn raised his eyebrows challenging the ellon as he knew what Elladan was playing at. For he might have been accused by the twins for harboring a liking towards you after the few interactions he actually had. Aragorn, naturally, refuted it as he hadn’t even properly talked to you until last night. But even he knew that sentiment was growing truer the more he spent time with you. The weird speaking mortal girl from a different world.

Elladan offered a soft chuckle, “He’s already retreated. Need not worry Aragorn. You’ll take it from here?” He asked this time before actually walking away.

“Aye, Elladan. I’ll take it from here.” He waved him off before turning to you, “Why don’t we start you with a blade more suitable to your size?” He asked before leading you off towards the equipment area.

“Are you calling me weak Mr. Aragorn?” You grinned feeling suddenly giddy you’d gotten him alone twice in such a short period of time. Your mood was rubbing off on your attitude. Even though you were already tired, sweaty, and felt gross you were thrilled for the sudden change of instructor.

He shook his head quickly while searching for something smaller for you, “Nay my lady. The blade you were yielding is far too big for you. We just need to find you something more in line with your arms. For a blade is but an extension of your arm.” You watched as he sorted through the different blades lining the walls before pulling one that hadn’t been used in some time down, “This will do quite nice for you.” He handed it to you for you to get a feel for.

It was far lighter in your hands as you held it and swished the air quietly in front of you, “You were right. This is very nice.”

He grinned seeing you able to hold the blade far easier than you had the man-made sword that was far heavier than an elf-made on you were holding, “Keep that with you. Elrond will want to see that later. I think he’ll get a laugh at who used to own that particular sword.”

“Used to?” You questioned placing the lighter blade in a sheath at your hip.

His eyes crossed with an unfamiliar emotion as he nodded his head, “Indeed. Elves take nothing with them when they sail to the Undying Lands.”

You just looked at him with confusion in your eyes, “I’m going to need you to elaborate on this Undying Lands place.”

He sighed knowing you were clueless when it came to middle earth and its customs, but it didn’t make the thought of where Arwen was off living any less painful. Not that it was your fault for asking, “It is where most immortals go when they are called. After their lives on middle earth are complete. Most elves go. My Arwen was called not too long ago.” He added knowing he didn’t need to. But he wanted to. Something about you made him feel comfortable enough to delve deeper with you.

“I’m sorry she could not stay with you.”

“I am too.” He smiled to you knowing just talking about it with you was healing for him as well, “But it is for the best. She does not fit into this world any longer.”

You walked with him back out to the training fields that were slowly getting busier with random groups of different elves alike training and practicing, “Can I tell you my thoughts?” You asked him after a long while of comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Always, my lady.” He pulled his own training sword out of its own sheath waiting for your next words carefully.

You mimicked his actions, “That sounds like a miserably long life. At least where I’m from. That would be so tiring.”

He held his sword up waiting for you to mimic him, “I must agree. It makes sense why they take yearlong breaks then, no?” Aragorn laughed as he watched you more easily following along to his stances and postures.

“I’d still like to take a yearlong break.” You admitted earning another beautiful laugh from the handsome man that was becoming more of a friend than a stranger. The rest of the morning went as such. Aragorn showing you a few moves before he had your try it out in practice on him. Elladan wasn’t lying, you had a natural skill with the blade. A few of your maneuvers caught him off guard for you being so new, nothing he couldn’t deflect. But your potential was there.

As he walked you back to Lord Elrond’s residence he decided to break the growing comfortable silence that seemed to occur more often than not in your presence, “You did well today, Lady Y/N. You are very much a natural with the blade.” He complimented you as you got closer to the residences front doors where he knew he would have drop you off. Surely your handmaiden would be there waiting to take you off to your next venture. He’d watched as you started as a cooped up and frightened girl who opted to stay in your chambers rather than show her face but in the week he had been here he had seen you slowly open up to the outside world after you’d seen it could cause you no harm.

Your heart rate sped up at his words. You spun on your heals once you made it to the door, “Thank you Aragorn. I had a wonderful instructor who showed me the way.” You giggled seeing a small blush rise to his cheeks at your kind words.

Aragorn was right that he would have to give you at the doorway, but he wasn’t expecting a usually busy Lord Elrond to be waiting, “There you are. You said you’d be back before lunch. It is nearly dinner.” He knew you were in perfectly capable hands being with Aragorn. He asked more to tease his friend more so than scold you. For it was not only his sons who had noticed his growing affections towards you, but Elrond had noticed as well. He’d missed nearly an entire day’s worth of meetings to train you. But Elrond also had the utmost faith in the future king to be making the right decisions. If that meant spending the day with the beautiful mortal girl then that’s what he was going to do.

You looked down in embarrassment for being called out on your tardiness so forthright, “Ah, my apologies. We got carried away with the lessons.” You patted your side letting him know you had quite literally been training for the last ten hours.

Lord Elrond smiled at the both of you, “I am sure Aragorn had his reasons. Now come, we are already late for dinner.” He pulled you inside where you only could wave to him before Elrond had closed the door after bidding his own goodbye. Elrond gave you a wicked smirk as he led you down to the dining room on the other side of his residence.

“What’s that look for?” You asked trying to play off your absence as training and nothing more, that’s all it was, right?

“No reason. None at all. Nothing to do with Master Aragorn.” He grinned letting you through the door before him.

“It was training!” You tried to defend yourself before the twins barged in on your conversation.

Elladan scoffed at the table, “Hardly. You couldn’t wait to push e

You gave him an exasperated look, “You were the one who ran away!”

“I could no longer stand the longing looks between the two humans.” Elladan smiled knowing he was changing the story to fit his narrative better.

“Oh whatever.” You grumbled grabbing for the salad that sat in the middle of the table earning a round of laughs from all the elves who had happily taken you into their home.

You walked into the hall that contained the sword that eliminated Sauron the first time, Isildur’s blade. And there he was, the man that you had been looking for sitting there staring at the blade that clearly haunted him. He must have lost track of time thinking as he promised to continue training the next day, the day before leaving on the quest.

“Elrohir said I could find you here.” You spoke quietly hoping not to startle him.

He jumped slightly. His head turned to you giving you a bow, “I have been spending quite a bit of time in here.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, pressing.

He sighed, “Thinking. About the ring. The quest. The danger. The hobbits. All of it.” He admitted letting the weight of it crash, “My susceptibility to the ring.” He added as you stepped closer to him.

“But you are not him, Isildur. Lord Elrond told me all about him, he knew him! You are nothing like him Aragorn.” You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before he shook you off gently.

That haunted look was still superimposed on his face, “It is his blood running through my veins as his did! Weak!” He sounded more upset than you had grown to see him in the few weeks you had gotten to know him.

“That’s untrue. You may have the same blood as him, but you are far from weak. You simply admitting that you are susceptible to its evils proves you to be anything but weak Aragorn. You are stronger than any man on my earth and any middle earth man I’ve come to know, although it’s not too many.” You laughed off the last bit hoping he would see his strength that had helped you grow further than you could’ve imagined in your short time here.

He looked at you with a new look as he heard your words. A look filled with adoration and love, “How do you know exactly what to say?” His eyes frantically searched your face as he realized your purpose being here was to help him as well. You were doing a flawless job at it. First with Arwen and now his insecurities surrounding the ring. How did you do it?

You smiled taking his hands in yours. Carefully, one by one, you snaked your fingers in between his before locking them down in your grip. You prayed it gave him some of the comfort he had given you over the last few weeks, “It’s easy with you.” It came out as more of whisper. You knew he had lingering feelings for the ellith he could no longer have. Why couldn’t you take her place?

You watched as he gulped. His eyes moved from your hands laced in between his, “Are you still searching for your purpose, my lady?” He asked as he took a daring step forward towards you. He heard as you breath got caught in your throat at his overly bold action.

You shook your head slowly, “I am not. I have found it.”

He nodded his head. Slowly he broke his hand away from yours. In place he brushed away the stray hairs that had been coated to your cheeks. The wind had displaced the stray hairs that blocked your view unknowingly. He relished in his touch on your warm, soft skin. He noticed the way your skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch, a physical reaction letting him know you felt the same way as he had. It had amazed him how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you over the short time he had known you. With Arwen it was slow and took years only to crush him in the end. But with you it was fast but steady. Quicker than he anticipated but it made sense to him.

“May I ask what it is, my lady?” He brushed his hand along your cheek enjoying the way you seemed to squirm under his touch.

You closed your eyes knowing you wouldn’t be able to take it back but what did you have to lose? He was leaving with most of your new friends anyway. Might as well lay it out on the line, “Helping the fellowship, trying to guide Gandalf, you. Many such purposes.”

He cracked that smile that you’d grown to find a great comfort in, “I was hoping you may say that.” He didn’t dare drop his hand as he let his large hand cup your face. Your eyes fluttered closed as his pointer finger rubbed back and forth underneath your ear. It was like a form of kryptonite you did not know you had, “You know I must guide Frodo on this quest. But I can promise you that I will come back as soon as I can to you. For you are my purpose too, Lady Y/N.” He grinned loving the way that you seemed to melt right into his touch. As heartbroken as he felt from the loss of Arwen it did feel like you were sent here to mend his wounds right on up. He was not kidding. He found a purpose in you. His purpose.

Your eyes opened up looking into his once more, fully letting yourself fall into his touch, “My purpose.” You nuzzled your head into his calloused hand that had seen more battles than you could ever even imagine. For as difficult as your transition was into an entirely different world he had made it that much easier. You’d found it. He was it. Your purpose.

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bts-0t-7 · 9 months

Text

The Royal Calling | JJK

header by @liveyun Pair: Jungkook x F Reader

Summary: In the midst of surviving, you find yourself in a sticky situation. Your connection with the King, Jeon Jungkook, had you afraid for your life. Certainly, he wouldn’t kill you… Right? But slowly, you figured out your place in the depths of the castle and you yearned to live.

Genre: Fluff, non-idol au, werewolf au, royalty au, strangers to lovers (s2l)

Chapter Warnings: Abuse, PTSD, death, a little bit of self-degradation

A/N: I would have split this into a few different parts if it wasn’t for the fact that I wanted to make sure the year started with an OT7 fic. HEH - I would MAKE IT HAPPENNN- So yes, here is the first 10k+ fic :)) And to @liveyun, thanks for the header. I LUB YOU hehe 💜🌟

WC: 11,051

You were done for.

You knew you were done for.

There was no need for any form of explanation. The moment you stepped into the ballroom, you knew that the talking would start.

Since you were young, you never really knew your parents, only hearing from the pack’s elders that your mother passed away giving birth to you and your father had soon followed after his mate. Your earliest memories of your father weren’t bad at all. You remembered him being all smiley and happy, always doing his best to make you treasured.

So when he didn’t pick you up at kindergarten one day, you grew fussy. The pack alpha had suddenly come and taken you away, telling you the news. Up till today, you could remember the way he broke it to you - with a monotonous voice, void of any remorse or form of emotion.

“Your father died. You will stay with us now and earn your keep.”

That was all you remembered before you were thrown to the kitchen staff. Being young, you didn’t quite grasp the understanding of what was happening. All you could do then was cry. The maids and guards had tried their best to shelter you as you grew up, but with your Alpha ruling, nothing didn’t reach his eyes and ears.

Growing up, you never once cursed your family. With the help and slow-paced learning, you grew to understand the situation of your family thanks to the help of the maids. They always give you the easiest task - the less strenuous ones - taught you all that they knew, and fed you extra portions. The guards would sneak you books and poems and teach you after their shifts. The people in your pack were not all bad.

But as you started growing into adolescence and older, the maids and guards who cared for you grew old as well. So you started taking on their responsibilities, doing the harsh labour work without complaint. Soon, the shelter broke down its walls as well and people started seeing you more often. That was when you got the first taste of real dirt.

“How dare you! You slut! You - you -” The woman in front of you screeched in outrage but you were in a daze. Blood pooled in your mouth as you lay on the ground, unmoving and in shock.

It wasn’t until the alpha came and pulled you up did you attempted to get up on wobbly feet. Only to be shoved down again. “You will not speak, look, or hear to a single person in this pack. You are nothing and no one. Know your place, omega.”

You thought to give people around a chance. You weren’t to say - weak. But as your second gender tells you, you had a disadvantage to the majority of your peers. The guards have taught you self-defense but you never showed signs of using them. You were the runt of the pack and you should know your place. If you showed signs of studies, the alpha would be ruthless to those who taught you.

And you did not need anybody else dying.

So you kept silent and continued to work - not speaking, not looking, not hearing anything that the people in the pack talk about. But you sure were not completely deaf. You knew - you understood - yes, you just stayed unfazed.

And you thought that you could remain unfazed for the rest of your life until the alpha came into the kitchen one day and grabbed you off to the sides, pushing you against the wall and saying, “As much as I hate to let you go, all eligible women must attend the King’s royal ball this Friday. You will not have anything to wear. You will wear what you have on now.” He pushed you against the wall even harsher, arms pressing against your ribcage. You fought to breathe. “If I see that you do not wear this, I will personally strip you myself.”

You shivered at the tone of his voice. Feeling too exposed and humiliated, you nodded as the alpha let you go. You immediately scurried back to the kitchen, breathing deep puffs through your mouth.

“What got you so flushed, darling?” Marion asked.

You shook your head. “Nothing, Aunt. I just - Nothing.”

She knew something was up - you knew that much and was thankful that she did not pry any further.

It was Wednesday when Alpha told you about the ball on Friday. Not that you had anything to prepare, of course. You were forced to wear your housekeeping clothes to the Royal Ball. You had prepared yourself for the extravagance - but it was insufficient. All the cars took you directly outside and everybody was wearing makeup, dressed in the finest gowns, expensive hairpins, and flaring updos.

You, on the other hand, wore rags compared to their dresses, your hair a mess, and in no way anything could be done to it.

You felt the stares and snickers of other ladies as you exited the bus.

You felt so self-conscious.

Everybody from different regions, different backgrounds, different packs - came today to celebrate the King’s birthday in the tradition of a royal ball. You could see the looks of disgust from the court members and sympathy from the royal servants. But you didn’t want to look up. You wanted a large black hole to just swallow you whole - or home would be a good choice too.

“Remember, know your place, omega.” Alpha reminded you before walking off.

You weaved through the mass of beautifully dressed women to a corner of the room. As the orchestra started, you watched with a wistful gaze at the elegance the women possessed in their dances. You watched them through your hair, under your lashes, until ladies caught you and snickered your way.

You could hear the whispers and probes, the hurtful comments that were flung your way. This Friday was not a day where you could keep your emotions at bay with a nonchalant expression.

No. Not today.

You hid behind the curtain of your hair, humiliated and on the verge of tears. You didn’t wish to be here. You truly didn’t. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to regulate your shallow breathing. You didn’t want to get punished when you went back to the pack. But if you didn’t get your body under control, you would be.

And you had enough unhealed cuts and bruises - your body couldn’t afford any more for the time being. Your flight response pushed you to react when a group of ladies walked past you, flaunting themselves.

But everybody stopped in their tracks the moment the large oak doors banged open. You flinched at the loud, sudden sound, gaining a glare from your alpha. You weren’t making out alive this time. Loud heavy footsteps approached, a voice powerfully projecting into the room asked, “Where is she?”

All eyes turned to you as you cowered back in fear.

You truly weren’t making it out alive.

You wore rags to the King’s birthday royal ball. Of course you would get a punishment. You just feared what type of royal punishment you would have to face. Beatings back in your pack have already weakened you and if it was any worse than those, you might as well have your soul float to heaven (or crawl to hell) first - before he reaches you.

But nothing goes the way one plans anyway. Expensive, shiny boots stopped in your vision.

Then, you felt a large, warm hand caress your cheek. Squeezing your eyes hard, you anticipated the incoming blow. But you weren’t ready for the man in front of you to ask, “Who did this to you?”

You didn’t dare look up.

“Look at me.”

You were truly done for.

You couldn't figure out if this was a trick order or not - so you kept your head down, afraid of breaking royal protocol. Not that you knew any.

The hand on your cheek moved down to your chin and tilted your head up. Your eyes met with the most chocolate, Bambi eyes you have seen. But they darkened and hardened the moment they grazed your face that your cheeks burned and you immediately averted your gaze.

He doesn’t want us.

Mate doesn’t want us.

“Tell me, who did this to you?”

You didn’t dare answer him. Unable to help yourself, tears streamed down your cheeks from the pressure that you were placed under. It has been boiling and now, being called out and rejected, you didn’t know how to control such immense emotions.

You were not expertly versed in the common language as most of the maids back home spoke mostly the Old Language. You used that more often and only during your nightly classes with the guards did you practise the common language.

Thumbs rubbed your cheek as you found the warmth of another hand landing on your other cheek, wiping away your tears. Slowly, you peeked open your eyes and found yourself looking straight into the eyes of your mate.

The werewolf king.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook hated parties.

Perhaps hate was too harsh a word to use. Dislike was more like it.

Jungkook absolutely disliked parties.

He felt that they were a waste of time and energy. But as the werewolf king, his birthday was always celebrated with a royal ball. Just like all others before him. So he just sucked it up and let the council prepare them. But he has not gone to those parties in years. All he does is make an appearance and leave. Those attendees look for a mate in him and he refuses to mate with anybody that isn’t his true mate.

Call him a romanticist, cause he is.

But of course, the old folks of the council did not appeal his decision. Not that he could care any less. He was 26 and he needed to produce an heir for the kingdom soon. Jungkook felt an impending headache coming his way. Pressing two fingers to his temples, he rubbed them and sighed.

He would wait, even if it was an eternity for his true soul.

Jungkook was in the middle of signing off new policies to be implemented when he smelt a fresh, new scent wafting in the palace. His study was far from the entrance of the palace so he was confused as to how he could sense such a scent from so far away.

Jungkook had always been sensitive to scents since young, therefore his lodgings have been the farthest from the city, located at the back with fresh air and trees. Intrigued, Jungkook got up and followed his instincts. It led him to the ballroom where his supposedly birthday party was held.

Now, he got a clearer waft of the intoxicating scent as he realised the sour notes to it. It made his nose crinkle and brows furrow. Why would one be so afraid? What caused one to be so afraid?

Jungkook couldn’t sense any outbreaks in the room so he wasn’t sure what was causing it. The echoing sounds did not make his headache any better either.

Just as he was about to enter, three guards surrounded him. “Your Majesty,” Paul, the Head Captain, bowed. “Apologies for our tardiness, we did not expect you so early.”

Jungkook was quick to dismiss the apology. “No need, I wasn’t supposed to be here anyways. I was just following instinct.”

He could see the confusion in the guards' faces before Paul said, “We will follow you, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook opened the large doors and demanded, “Where is she?”

All sounds seem to be sucked out of the room in an instant. The next breath, there was an obvious pathway to the scent he had found for the past fifteen minutes. The first thing he saw was your scent. You were cowering in fear - of him or of the attention you were currently receiving, he wasn’t too sure.

Next, he realised your clothes. Why would anybody allow you to wear those? Unless you were a maid in your pack. Even so, this was his royal ball and if his council was to be trusted, not one of the people came in housekeeping clothes. Unless -

The last thing he realised was your bruises. While you did a great job at concealing most of them with your hair, Jungkook could see those peeking under your clothes when you shift on your feet.

Wanting to confirm his suspicions, Jungkook walked towards you, caressing your cheek and tilting your head upwards. He saw your eyes before your bruises - what a beautiful shade they were.

But your bruises. Whoever your pack’s alpha was -

He saw the change in your eyes - from a split second of mesmerisation to hurt and pain and… tears?

Jungkook moved on instinct the moment he felt his hands getting wet. Bringing his other hand up, he wiped your tears off your cheeks. You had scrunched up your eyes and tensed your body as if - as if waiting for a hit, Jungkook realised.

He was pissed. Beyond pissed.

But for you, he would hold it in.

He was afraid of scaring you if he were to show his true colours now. His anger was one thing that the court feared as he was known to do anything that he put his mind to - and he was harder to handle when angry.

When he looked back at you, he saw your eyes slowly opening, revealing the soul that he had waited for forever.

Right then, he knew that he would break down mountains if it meant to keep you safe.

“Find her pack alpha and bring him to me.” Jungkook commanded the guards beside him. Gently tugging on your sleeve, he held out his palm. He saw your hesitancy to take it and decided to just bite the lead and do it. Sliding his hands to yours, he connected them and pulled you along.

Jungkook led you out of the ballroom, ensuring to keep an eye on you at all times to see how much more you can take. “Shall we walk to my quarters? I have a few guest rooms there that you can stay at if you like.”

You nodded your head and followed him. He wasn’t sure what prompted you to trust him so much but he sure wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste.

Leading you to the room one room down from him, Jungkook opened the door and led you in. Turning on the lights, he was about to give you a tour of the room when he spotted you standing still at the threshold. Your eyes were big as your mouth dropped open. Jungkook felt like he could just faint at that very moment. The way your eyes sparkled with mesmerisation, taking everything in was -

“You can stay for as long as you want. Nobody will hurt you here, I can promise you that.” Jungkook proposed. “I know my words won’t cut it but I truly hope you would stay. Even if it’s just for a little while, please?”

The room that the werewolf king had assigned you was beyond any of your imagination. It was extravagant but not too much and their colours flowed beautifully with each other. The werewolf king had begged you to stay and seeing it made you feel a little… bad. So you gave in, nodding. You saw the way his eyes light up and his steps held a little spring in them as he led you around the room.

Cute.

Your eyes widened at the thought. No, no, no. This is the werewolf king. You were not allowed - not worthy - of thinking like that.

“You are allowed to do as you wish here. Nobody will stop you. If you want anything, you can just order it.”

You nodded silently. You didn’t need much.

The clothes in the wardrobe provided you with everything you needed and more. It was more than necessary and you were extremely grateful. The underwear may or may not be your size but one quick look at it made you quite certain with a little adjustments, it would fit just well. As the king familiarised you with the room, he pointed out certain spaces and things that had comfy spaces.

Plushies, plushes, fluffy rugs, fluffy pillows… It felt like fluff heaven.

“My room is just a room down.” The king told you. His hands were in front of him, wringing them as if he were worried about your reactions to how he came off. “And erm… Please just call me Jungkook or Kook or Kookie works too! Or anything you want!”

His Majesty is spiralling.

You nodded but you weren’t going to talk much, you knew that. In case you were to say something wrong, at least you wouldn’t have that chance if you didn’t open your mouth. This way, you would be as safe as possible. You had not seen and experienced the punishments in the royal family. You did not want to push anybody’s buttons to know what goes down behind the doors.

As His Majesty left the room, you walked straight to the bed first, taking the throw and the neatly folded blankets, piling them onto the floor and curling up in the fluff. You did not want to sleep on the bed, lest that this was a trail.

To see how much of the king’s generosity you would take for granted.

You took none, of course. But you did not want others to think that you took it all. Folding the materials over your eyes and covering your body, you fell into an unfruitful sleep.

It had probably been a few hours since you fell asleep but you were woken up by the rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning. Curling deeper into the warm depths of the blankets, you whimpered, trying to hide away from the sounds. The rumbling reminds you too much of that day when you dug in the mud.

You did not remember much of that day. All that came back was you ferociously digging in the mud of your father’s burial, hysterically begging for him to come back.

“Papa! Papa, please! Papa - Y/N’s sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I’ll be a good girl and do my homework. Papa - please come back - PLEASE-” Soil in your nails, mud water soaking up your skirt, and blood pouring out of your head from the hit you took when sliding down.

You couldn’t believe your ears. You didn’t want to believe.

You father wasn’t dead - your father couldn’t be -

He sent you to school this morning. He looked normal. Why did he leave now?

“PAPA PLEASE! Y/N’s sorry! PAPA PLEASE-”

You were sobbing in the rain, hurting but refusing to move. Only when you heard the head chef, Aunt Marion call for you, her warm hands coming to scoop up your small form and carried you back. That night, she tended to your wounds, the both of you letting the silence speak for itself.

Your grief and sorrow, she knew, will never heal.

Loosing a parent is tough, but you can’t let it squash you.

She cared for you, always giving you more portions for dinner, ensuring that you had more than enough to eat.

After that day, whenever it rained, you always ran to one of the maid’s rooms, hiding under the covers with the warmth of the aunts. They had always soothed you and sung you to sleep. As you grew up, you tried to lessen the times that you went to their room, only occasionally during the harsher seasons do you sleepover in their cots with them.

Now you were all by yourself, in a large room and full length windows, giving you the full view of the lighting and echoing sounds of thunder. Trying to make yourself as small as possible, you squeezed your eeys shut, hoping that you would go back to sleep. But minutes passed and by the time it was past thirty minutes, you were getting tired of trying.

Slowly getting up, you curled the blankets around yourself and let is trail behind you as you walked out of the room. Just as you were exiting the room, lighting struck and thunder boomed, making you flinch and squeak in fright.

You left the door to your room slightly open and stood outside for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do next. Deciding to follow your scents and instincts, you walked down to the room beside the spiral staircase, the largest door in the level.

You stood outside, hands formed in a fist as you contemplated knocking or not. Deciding to knock incase you interrupt something you shouldn’t, you winced a the sound echoing throughout the silent hallway.

When nobody opened the door, you bit the lead and opened it slightly, peaking in to see His Majesty staring at you with a bed hair sticking in all directions. His sleepy eyes squinted and roamed your form, making you feel self-conscious. It seem to take a while for him to relasie that you were standing there.

But by then, you were already squeaking out a “sorry” and closed the door.

Jungkook was having a good dream.

A brilliant dream - to be honest.

He was playing around in a field of flowers, prancing around like a kid again. Rolling about in the mud and making his fur dirty - oh, he couldn’t care less.

It felt nice to be free.

But he was woken up by the sudden rapping against his bedroom door.

Jungkook was known to be a heavy sleeper. He does not wake easily so when he woke up, distorted at the sound, Jungkook found himself wondering why he even woke up. It wasn’t until his sleep-muggled brain registered that you were standing at his door, wrapped up in layers of blankets. Your soft apology made it to his ears and he immediately left the warm confinements of his bed.

“Hey-” He winced at his own voice cracking, hoarse from the lack of use.

At least it stopped you from completely closing his door.

Your little eyes peaked through the small hole left between the door and Jungkook felt like he could melt right there and then. You looked adorable in the buddles of blankets. Walking to the door, he gently opened it, afraid that is he moves too fast it might frighten you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He carefully brought his hands up to you, not forgetting the way your instincts acted up at the ball a few hours ago. He did not want to trigger anything he doesn’t understand or know, much less give you a reason to fear him.

You shook your head at his question, your luscious locks waving with the direction.

Just then, lightning stuck, lighting up the whole room as the loud snap of the thunder followed. You jumped, whimpering as you hid in the thick blankets even more.

The storm.

You were afraid of the storm.

Running his hand through his sleep-mussed hair, he pushed the door open and slid his hands through yours, gently tugging you into his room. He felt a sense of pride when he realised that you had came to his room, seeking his comfort.

Leading you to the bed, he brought back the thick quilt and gestured for you to get in. You stood a the foot of his bed for a few seconds, hesitant to enter until Jungkook sat on the bed and gave your linked hands a little pull. Giving in, you entered his bed as he tucked you in. Heading to the other side of the bed, Jungkook crawled in and snuggled beside you.

Oh, how much he just wanted to wrap his arms around you but he did not want to frighten you.

He watched as you slowly fell asleep, curling into yourself while facing him, soft whispers coming out of your mouth. Smiling to himself, Jungkook tucked the quilt higher, making sure that you were warm before falling asleep himself.

He woke up the next morning before you did. The gloomy weather made it a comfortable weather to sleep in but he had things to complete - one of them being setting a suitable punishment for your old alpha. He had a hint who it was, seeing the old egoistic man glare at you when he lead you out of the ballroom.

Suitable punishment.

Jungkook scoffed. That old man should be hung for treating the queen that way.

Looking over, Jungkook found your sleeping form curled up against his. A soft smile grew on his lips as he brought a gentle hand up to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. He didn’t know what were your boundaries to cross and not to cross so he did not -

Sighing, he carefully extracted himself off of your hold. He wanted to get the punishment over with before you woke up. Your brows furrowed as you mumbled in you sleep. Pushing his heavily scented pillow in your hold and pulling the quilt higher, you easily fell back asleep. Quietly, Jungkook got himself ready for the day and left the room.

Soft silky texture glided through your hands as you struggled to force yourself awake. You had to get up and do the chores. You were sure your alarm had -

Your alarm!

You shot out of bed, hands flinging in the direction of your clock only to collide with a vase of flowers instead. You did not manage to catch it in time and it crashed onto the floor. Jumping out of the bed, you forced your sudden disorientation to go away. Dizzy, you got to your knees as you started to frantically pick up the pieces.

You were going to get punished either way, it is better if you clean up before His Majesty comes back in. This way, you hoped to get a lighter punishment for destroying his properties.

Hurried footstep sounded your way and you sped up the process, trying to finish the impossible before -

You were brought out of your thoughts when blood started trickling onto the floor, staining the quilt of the red. By now, you were fricking out. The large doors banged open and large boots stopped in front of you and warm hands caught yours.

“Darling!”

You pried your hands out of his, trying to continue with your work.

Please, please, please - don’t punish me so harshly. Please, please, please -

But the warm hands did not move. They held yours firmly.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at me.” You shook your head. You needed to continue. You couldn’t speak, look, or hear. You were nothing.

The same set of hands pulled you to your feet and out of the area where the broken ceramic lie. You fought out of the hold but he was firm. “Look at me, look at me.”

His hands came to your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Follow my breathing. Follow me.”

One, two, one, two, three.

This went on all while you could hear the maids cleaning up the broken pieces. As your breathing calmed down, the adrenaline started to wear off and you felt exhausted. Gentle pats to your back did not help the heaviness of your eyelids. In fact, it made them worse. You were just about to fall back asleep when a sudden clearing of throat on your left jolted you awake.

Remembering where you were and in what position you were at, you immediately scrambled off. Bowing, head to the ground and palms up, you begged for His Majesty’s forgiveness. But you did not dare to talk lest you say anymore things to trigger his anger. You could only hope His Majesty would understand your position.

You felt hands grab you around your armpits and you flinched, waiting for a blow. But when none came, you pried open your eyes to see your surroundings. His Majesty was sitting on the floor beside you, holding you up while caressing your cheek.

“Hey darling.”

You blinked. Were you not going to be punished for your incompetence?

“I told you that nobody would hurt you here.” His Majesty pointed to himself. “Not even me. If I hurt you, you have all the rights to do as you wish with me.”

You were confused. You were suppose to be the one who is at fault. Why is His Majesty the looking like a guilty puppy?

As the both of you sat together, you took the time to observe the room and soon realised that the both of you were the only ones inside. Suddenly feeling conscious, you ducked your head, letting your hair cover half of your face. As you looked down, you saw that your palms were tended to. The blood has stopped flowing and they were firmly bandaged.

The silence between you stretched long and thin that you decided to get up and clean up the rest of the mess. Walking over, you expected to see half changed sheets or leftover flowers and water on the floor. But all you see is clean, crisp sheets and a new vase with a different set of flowers sitting on the table.

Turning back around, you were about to get on your knees to apologise again when His Majesty stopped you. “That’s enough.” You faltered.

Uh-oh.

“No more bowing, no more apologies.” His Majesty put out his palms, facing them up. Why is he placating you? “Can you do that for me? No more saying sorry. Break what you want to, don’t apologise for it. Okay?”

You didn’t agree to it.

You couldn’t agree to it. There has to be a catch somewhere. Life is never so easy.

“In return,” There is it. “I would like you to go for fittings tomorrow and find out your hobbies. I want to know what you like and what you dislike. Is it a fitting enough trade?”

NO! NO IT WASN’T!

You were suppose to be told to do cleaning, top to bottom, ensure that the whole castle deos not have a single speck of dust or something! You were -

“You are my mate. You are the future Queen of the kingdom. You may do as you wish. I will not stop you and nobody will stop you. But I think we should go -”

“O-okay.” You croacked. You had not spoken for more than a day, voice cracking at the lack of use.

You saw His Majesty’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas and you swear your heart stumbled.

“Okay, okay… erm… What’s your name?”

The favour has started.

“Y/N. L/N Y/N, Your Majesty.” You whispered, seeing his brows furrow at the title.

“Jungkook is fine, darling.”

Darling -

(Ehm.)

You nodded.

“Say it.”

You were hesitant. I mean - who wouldn’t? The king of werewolves is asking you to say his given name, jumping up and down like a bunny, eyes sparkling when he looks at you. “Say it, say it.”

You blinked multiple times at him. Is he… for real? Is this a test?

“Please? You can’t call me by my title. I refuse.”

… You weren’t certain if you were in front of the king or a kid.

“Ju-Jungkook.”

The king shot up from the loveseat he was on and clapped his hands. “Now just call me that from now on and -”

The doors opened to reveal a man clad in an expensive suit and glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of his nose. He held a stack of books and papers in his arms. You instantly looked down, afraid to look the man lest he is someone you should never piss off.

“Well, I heard a commotion and decided to come up to take a peak. Guess it was cleaned up before I could come in.” The man said. God, it must have been a test. And you failed it.

“Namjoon Hyung!” His Majesty bounded over to the man and gave him a big hug.

“Hey Kook.” You envied their easy affection for each other. You were only mates to the king by bond but his heart is somewhere else. You didn’t want to stay and intrude any further. Ducking your head even further down to your chest, you mumbled out a soft apology and bolted to your room. You had overstayed your stay and it is time to go back.

To reality.

Jungkook felt the ache in his chest before you left.

And then he felt it grow that he winced at the pain, rubbing over the area, trying to ease it up. But he knew that there was nothing that could ease up the pain unless it you felt happier. He wanted to introduce you to his Hyung. Surely, he did not expect him to be out of the library, but he thought that it was a good way to slowly introduce you to his inner circle of the council. The very people who help him make the choices and keep the kingdom safe.

But the moment you saw Namjoon, he could see the light leave your eyes as you ducked your head lower. He was about to call out to you when you bolted off, and all Jungkook heard was hte soft thud of a room door closing.

Sighing, Jungkook pushed his hair back. Namjoon came into the room, putting down his books before saying, “That girl is scared. You can’t rush it.”

“I know. But it’s just… So hard.”

“Patience Kook, patience.”

So with nothing much to do, the both of them sat in the room and went through the piles of letters, policies, and numerous talks on philosophy. As the morning soon turned to afternoon, the servants came in to inform Jungkook that you had your lunch in the room. He was relieved to hear that you ate. Afternoon then turned to evening and when the servants entered the dining room where he was eating with the rest of his inner circle, they informed him that you weren’t eating.

More like refusing to eat.

You would tell the servants to leave the food there but when they went back an hour later, the food was untouched and you were bundled in a corner of the room - refusing to move. Jungkook sighed and looked at the food infront of him, appetite now long gone. Ordering for a bowl of porridge, he piled it up with meat, vegetables, and crispy rolls. He wasn’t sure what you liked and what you didn’t like so this wild guess was… truly a wild one.

Heading up to your room with the bowl and spoon in hand, he knocked on your door. Hearing no answer, he knocked again. This time he pushed open the door and entered. The first thing he saw were your neatly piled clothes on the bed and then your bundled form on the floor, covered in layers and layers of fluffy blankets.

Jungkook took a note that you liked anything plush and fluffy. Putting the bowl and spoon on the bedside table, he softly walked over to you, however purposefully creaking a few floorboards to inform you of his presence.

And it worked, of course. Your ears twitched and sleepy eyes travelled up to meet his. Kneeling on the ground to get to your eye level, Jungkook held out his hand to your snout. You sloppily sniffed him up before uncurling and dragging the blankets along with you by your bum. Jungkook chuckled at your attempt and slid himself closer, allowing you to rest your sleepy head on his thighs.

Stroking your silky grey ears, you let out a tummy rumble.

“I’m sorry for just now. I didn’t know Namjoon Hyung was coming. Things will go at your pace, I promise. Plus, Namjoon Hyung has a mate so don’t you worry your little furry head over the word ‘jealousy’, okay? They are happily mated.” Jungkook chuckled. He figured out why you left when he was reading a poetry on Achilles and Patroclus. “Namjoon Hyung is part of my inner circle in the council and I hope to be able to introduce you to them one day. We… We can be quite chaotic and I don’t want you to run away right now.”

Jungkook half-hugged the frame of your wolf. “I can’t let you go!” Jungkook sobbed hysterically.

Your wolf below him huffed as if knowing his little tricks.

The both of you sat in comfortable silence as Jungkook’s hand continued to stroke through your fur, providing you with a sense of comfort while his body heat warmed you. An alpha’s body heat is naturally higher than an omega’s and is able to better regulate itself compared to yours. It wasn’t until a particularly harsh wind forced the windows shut, the bang of it causing you to jum up in fright.

Bringing your head to his, Jungkook told you with stern eyes, “You have to eat dinner. It has turned cold. Even the wind agrees.”

Getting up, Jungkook left you whining and trailing after him. After ensuring that the windows are shut and locked, he picked up the bowl of food and sat on the bed, patting the side as a gesture for you to join him up. Leaping, you curled around him, seeking his warmth again.

“No, no, no. No going back to bed. Come on.” Jungkook lifted your head off the bed and pinched your tail, earning a yap and flick. “Come on. Shift back and have some food then you can go back to sleep.”

Your eyes slid to him before flattening to slits as if you were the one hunting him. That made a sense of fear and adrenaline course through him. But before he can say anything, you jumped off the bed and headed for the wardrobe, emerging later in comfortable pajamas.

Holding the bowl out to you, Jungkook wasn’t sure if you wanted to eat by yourself or -

You plopped down beside him and opened you mouth.

Well… Safe to say, he chose the wrong option.

You wanted to be fed. So Jungkook obliged his sleepy mate, ensuring that every bite goes down before he feeds you another. You did not make it through half the bowl before you started falling asleep on him again so Jungkook decided that it was a better option to just let you sleep rather than to force you food. Careful with your hair, Jungkook laid you on the bed before going to the washroom and coming back with a warm cloth to wipe your mouth.

Your hands seeked his warmth as he left the bed. Tucking you in, Jungkook turned off the lights - save for the washroom’s - and cracked open the windows, ensuring that it would not close in the middle of the night. Then he slid into bed with you immediately wrapping yourself around him.

It felt like just a few hours ago he woke up in a similar position. Now, he went to sleep with the both of you working to better understand the other.

You woke up to light snores and a curly head of hair in your face. Squinting at the sunlight that streamed through the curtains, you hid your face in the being next to you. Colliding with a warm chest, you tilted your head up to see His Majesty’s sleeping form beside you.

Turning the wheels back, you recalled what happened last night and decided that it was not a good idea to scream.

Namjoon Hyung has a mate.

Don’t worry your fluffy head over this.

I would like to introduce you to them one day.

Things will go at your pace, I promise.

Perhaps, you could try. If His Majesty is trying for you, why say you can’t do the same? It is a choice that you knew only you could make.

We can be a little chaotic.

You could try. There was nobody to say - significant - in your life to introduce to His Majesty but he does. So you would like to know his friends as well. You were good at cooking, Aunt Marion has taught you much.

I want to know your likes and dislikes.

Deciding that you would make something that you loved for him to try as breakfast, you tried to shimmy your way out of his hold. But all he did was groan and turn over, essentially caging you between in body and the bed. Trying to wiggle out of his hold, all you did was wake him instead.

“No…” His Majesty mumbled. “Noooo… Don’t goooo…”

“Let me out, please. I need the washroom, Your Majesty.”

His brows furrowed before groggily lifting his arm to let you escape. You left for the washroom to get ready and when you came back to the bedroom, His Majesty was already back in the dreamland. Lightly laughing, you toed out of the room and started exploring His Majesty’s lodging area. You had noted that it was the furthest from civilisation and had the well… best view, you suppose. Whenever you looked out, it was trees and forest. It made your wolf extremely happy. She was allowed to prance around without anybody scolding her.

Carefully, you walked down steps until there were none and stopped. Now you didn’t know where to go. Not that you left much - you weren’t even certain how many stories you had climbed down.

Eyes fluttering around, you start to grow nervous. You were in a completely new environment and you just… explored the place on your own?

Just as you were about to throw in the towel and head back up to probe His Majesty for directions, a chirpy “hello” broke you out of your trance. Whipping your head around, you stumbled backwards, barely catching your footing before you fell. In front of you stood a male with eyes like smiles and a lovely demeanour.

Hoping that he wouldn’t be nasty, you cautiously asked, “Hello, may I know where the kitchen is?”

The man looked at you in shock. You weren’t sure why until he replied to you in the common language did you realise… you slipped back. “Hi! I’m Jimin.”

“I’m Y/N.” You replied softly.

“Cool that you know the Old Language. Not many people know how to speak that anymore.” Jimin spoke with you with the comfort of the Old Language. His accent was much heavier, slurring the words at the end as they moulded around his lips.

“The older folks in my pack understood mainly the Old Language so I picked up along the way.”

The both of you struck up conversations as Jimin led you to the kitchen. It was more of Jimin talking and you giving him one or two-word answers. It wasn’t that you did not have your fair share of socialisation. No, you had your classes, you knew how to talk - you just didn’t want to. Circles and circles the both of you walked, turns and turns he led you through, until you stopped by a set of large doors, wide open as you smelt the aroma wafted out. Feeling the sudden hunger, your stomach grumbled.

“Are you… Hungry?” Jimin chuckled.

You shook your head.

Heading over to a chef, you slowly asked him, “May I know where the vegetables, seasoning, and dry ingredients are?”

The chef wiped the sweat off his forehead and pointed in their respective directions. Thanking him, you looked through each section and then headed for the refrigerator. You knew what you were going to make - one that Papa always made for you and a recipe that Aunt Marion learnt from you.

You always craved them on days when you missed your dad and rainy weather. You never liked loud, harsh sounds and the fear amplified on that rainy day. It was your comfort food, one that was a staple in your diet. Sometimes, you’ll catch Aunt Marion making them early in the morning. You wondered how His Majesty would react to a food like this. Would he like it as much as you do or would he dislike it and ban it from the castle? You weren’t sure how you were going to survive without it.

After collecting all the ingredients needed, you walked over to the prepping station. Mixing the flour, salt, sugar, and grated garlic in a bowl, half a cup of yougurt, butter and lukewarm milk were poured in. With extra milk and butter on the side, you started mixing the ingredients to form a dough. Kneading until the dough gave a soft, elastic, and pliable texture, you covered it in a damp cloth and let it sit in a warm place. While the dough is resting, you turn to another station, bringing with you seven cloves of garlic and coriander leaves.

Finely slicing the garlic cloves, you felt a sense of deja vu. Remembering when you used to help Papa make them for school time snacks so that you could share them with your friends. Shaking your head, you placed the garlic in a small dish before lightly washing the coriander leaves and finely chopping them.

“What are you making?” You heard Jimin question you.

“My comfort food.”

You turned around with the bowls in your hand, heading back to the prepping station when you saw Jimin pinching the cloth to lift it and peek under. Placing the bowls beside him, Jimin flinched, looking up at you with a sheepish expression.

“Oops?”

You walked back to the station and washed up the chopping board and knives. Heading back to where Jimin stood, you uncovered the dough. Lightly greasing your fingers, you divided the dough into eight parts. You preferred smaller pieces, one that can be eaten quicker. Rolling them into balls, you arranged them back into the bowl neatly, covering them with the cloth again. It is important to keep them covered so that the dough does not lose its moisture.

Sprinkling a little flour on the rolling board, you started rolling out the dough. Once you determine that it is a good size, sprinkle on some sliced garlic and coriander leaves. Slightly rolling them to stick, you set them aside, covering them with another damp cloth as you work on the rest of the dough.

With the help of another chef, you managed to locate a non-stick pan and heat it over medium heat. Once the pan is deemed hot enough, you place a little water at the bottom of the naan before putting it onto the pan. When bubbles start to form, flip it, cooking until the other side forms bubbles as well. Flaming it on the other side directly on the stove gives the naan a little charred spots.

Oh, those were your favourites.

Once the naan is fully cooked, it is transferred to a cooling rack and as the others are cooking, you smear some butter on top with an extra garnish of coriander leaves.

Constantly moving about, you usually wrap the naan in cloth, putting it in the small pocket under the apron you wore. So now looking at the cooling naan on the rack, you wondered what you could dip with it. Making it with ur favourite paneer butter masala is a no since you do not have enough time.

“Why think so much? Just give it to him like that.”

You would love to but you were afraid that he would be offended that this was all you give him. A king is supposed to have a spread, not just one item.

“Jungkook will like anything you make.” Jimin went over to the refrigerator and took out an unopened carton of banana milk. “Just give him with this. He raids the kitchen for this every morning either way.” Jimin placed the milk in your hands.

Turning the carton over, you contemplated. You were afraid to be punished for not providing your king with what he deserves but his sworn brother told you that it does not truly matter. On the other hand, siblings can prank each other and you do not want to get in the middle of it. Then again, you didn’t know who else to listen to other than either yourself or Jimin.

“If you’re thinking whether or not I am giving you the wrong information, trust me,” Jimin placed a hand on his chest and propped his right leg on a stool. “I would never give you the wrong sort of information. Plus, I haven’t given you anything to put me as a prankster and liar right?”

It was anything but right as Jimin’s eyes bore into yours with that mischievous smile. You were suspicious - for certain and with a good reason, no less - but you decided to try. Plating the naan and carrying the milk (it honestly made you raise your brows at it), you walked out of the kitchen. But just as you took a step out, you realised that… you didn’t know how to go back to His Majesty’s room.

You turned back to ask Jimin to bring you along but you already found him behind you. You walked a little behind Jimin as he led you back. It was only when Jimin led you to the lift lobby did you realise, you took the hard and long way down.

When you were outside His Majesty’s room, you could hear the soft snores through the doors. You had expected that His Majesty would have woken up by now considering that it was nine in the morning.

“This is where I leave you. It was nice knowing you, My Lady. I hope to see you around soon.” Jimin bowed to you before walking back into the lift.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and walked in. Lightly closing it behind you, you treaded on careful waters, placing the food on the bedside table before poking His Majesty’s arm in an attempt to wake him up.

“Hmmm…”

Poke.

“Hmmm…” His Majesty’s brows furrowed.

Poke. Poke. Poke. “Your Majesty.”

“Hmm…?”

“Your Majesty, I made something. Would you like to try?”

Jungkook was disoriented.

He thought you had come back to bed. When did you leave again?

Jungkook yawned as he sat up in the bed, staring at you. You were standing at the edge of his side of the bed, poking him awake.

“Your Majesty, I made something. Would you like to try?”

Sure. He would love to.

“Hmm…” He nodded but whined in retaliation when he didn’t manage to grab onto you in time as you left to walk around the bed.

His sleepy eyes followed you the entire time and you came back with a carton of his favourite banana milk - how did you know? - and a plate of… bread? Jungkook got more alert. Oh, how he loves bread! Anything that contains flour is his favourite. Reaching for the food on the plate in an instant, he tore into it with a content sigh. It was only halfway through that he realised that the bread was not the usual one the servants would bring him. It was softer and held more flavour.

“Hmmm!” Jungkook looked at you. “Hmm! What is this? It’s good!”

He saw the way you ducked your head as your cheeks turned a dusty shade of pink. Oh, how cute you were. Jungkook could abandon the bread in his hand to chew on your cheeks instead.

“It’s garlic butter naan. My dad used to always make it for me so that I could bring it to school and share it with my friends. It became my comfort food.” He observed that you were fighting the itch to cover yourself. “I’m glad you like it, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook was proud that you tried to open up to him. He was beyond happy.

“I like it. How long can they keep for?”

Your furrowed brows made him go into another mini heart attack. “For normal naan, I’d say to keep its freshness, a month in the freezer should be good and about five days at room temperature.”

Jungkook chewed on the naan as he nodded. “How much can you make?”

“It depends on how long I am permitted in the kitchen, Your Majesty.”

There’s that again. Jungkook was not disappointed - just a little sad that you still didn’t trust him enough.

“There is the main kitchen and the kitchen in this tower. You can use any for however long you like. There are no limitations. There are no limitations here, okay?”

You nodded at him.

The silence dragged on comfortably as Jungkook continued to munch on his breakfast and drink his daily calcium while playing with your fingers. Your slender hands have done too much work - but Jungkook wouldn’t say. If you decide to continue with reading and sword training, he would be more than happy to oblige you.

But not housekeeping.

He hoped you would no longer think that you must clean the castle. Some servants are in charge of cleaning up and he hoped that you would leave it to them to do most of the work.

“Your Majesty,” You turned to him. “I… I would like to learn how to properly fight and -”

“I have a friend who can help you! He commands the First Battalion!”

“You,” Your eyes looked like they shined a thousand stars. “You would allow me to fight, Your Majesty?”

You said it with such hope in your voice that it hurts Jungkook’s heart. Exactly what did they do to you that the simplest indulgent made you look like that? If you wanted to fight, you may; if you wanted to read and create new things, you may; hell, if you wanted to burn the whole world down, he’ll burn it down with you.

Perhaps with a few exceptions.

“Of course.”Jungkook brought his hand to your hair and hooked the strays behind your ear. “You don’t need anybody’s permission to do anything.”

You looked so happy a that moment, eyes shining as if they were a thousand stars in the galaxy.

“Come on. Let’s dress you in simple clothes today.”

“Oh! It’s you!” A head of brown locks dashed up to you and you were sure with his built, you would have tumbled onto the ground by now if it wasn’t for a bold hand grabbing him from the fabric of his waist and pulling him back.

“Tae! Don’t be so rash!” The tall man chided him.

“Aw, come on! I just wanted to give her a hug!” The man in his hold - Tae - thrashed and whined. But the man held firm.

“You don’t know what she’s been through, don’t be so rash. What if all of our waiting goes back to square one because you wanted to give her a hug?”

You understood where they are coming from. They were afraid to wait longer to see you and you suppose you shouldn’t let them wait any longer. Pushing down your fears, you sturdily (at least you hoped it appeared sturdy) curtsied to the group of men in front of you. “Good morning. I am L/N Y/N. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Frequent pratice allowed the common language to smoothly roll off your tongue.

“You’re quite educated, I see?” The same man that held back Sir Tae spoke, pushing up his glasses. His built - tall and muscular - made you feel like an ant next to him.

“The guards and scholars would teach me in the night.”

The man nodded, bowing at ninety degrees. “Scholar Namjoon, Your Majesty. I am pleased to be at your service.”

Oh, he certainly looks like a scholar. While you never interacted with anybody during the morning to avoid any form of suspicions and rumours to spread in the pack, you have came across scholars at all hours of the day. They were always dressed to their finest, topped with the exuberance of elegance surrounding them. Even as the scholars who teach you during the night, wearing nothing more than a turnic and pants, remain that grace.

Observing three of the similarly dressed men in the group, you deduced that they must all be scholars. Their clothing were prim, not a single wrinkle in sight. Even their ties were neatly tucked under their double-vested vests that are adorned with gold buttons. Their boots shine under their high waisted pants with silk gloves in the pockets of the coat. One of them took out a pocket watch before whispering in another shorter man’s ears. He stood tall himself as the man he looked over you.

His eyes were as sharp as a cat’s and you felt stripped under his gaze. Bowing, the man introduced himself. “Yoongi, Your Majesty.”

You curtsied back to him.

“Jungkook told us you had quite the… harsh upbringing.” Scholar Namjoon started. Wait - Jungkook? Not His Majesty? His Excellency? His.. something other than his name?! “But it seems that you had good teachers.”

You hastily looked over at His Majesty, eyes peeking from under your brows as they furrowed. You hoped that he wouldn’t be too angry that his people did not call him by his title. His Majesty looked over at you and smiled - and you felt like you’ve drifted.

Turning back to the waiting group, you answered. “The guards and scholars in my previous pack have taught me well.”

A head poked out from across the wall before bounding over to your side. “My Lady! What are you doing here? Lost again?” Jimin whipped his head to the group and glared at the males in front, eyes saying What are you guys up to?

“Do you know each other?”

Jimin’s ears seem to pique at that question. “Yep! I’ve been with them since young! The seven of us are an inseparable group you know? Of course, with Jungkook at the head of the table.”

“Ju-Jungkook?” Your face pales again as your heart hammered in your chest.

Please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad.

“Plus, he’s the youngest out of all of us so we get to tease him forever.” A male slapped His Majesty’s butt. His Majesty whined.

Oh no… Oh no, they’ve done it now. Violating the king’s sense of -

“Hey Y/N darling,” Large hands encompassed your cheeks. “Don’t worry. They’re always like that and they practically raised me through my adolescent years. Their my brothers. It’s alright, it’s alright.”

Brothers?

Oh?

Oh.

Your cheeks dusted a shade of pink as you held in the urge to bury your burning face in his Majesty’s cloak. Instead, your grip tightened on the fabric as you tried to cool down the rising heat. Jungkook can see the way you were holding back on running so he cupped the back of your neck and gently tugged you to his chest. With your head buried, you tightened you grip even more, as if he would disappear the moment you let go.

“Darling?” Jungkook brushed your hair back, fingers threading thorough your loose locks. “Can I introduce you to them?”

You nodded, turning back to the group of boys waiting for your reply. His Majesty pointed to each one of them and started, “This is Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, as you know. This is Soekjin, but you can just call him Jin.” He was the man who took out his pocket watch. “This is Hoseok or Hobi.” The cheerful guy who was clad in simple but expensive tunic and pants. “And lastly, this is Taehyung.” He was the one who wanted to give you a hug. You should return it sometime soon.

Curtsying to the group, you quickly went back to the hold of your mate. You could see the cooing faces and lips that they were making and it made you blush even more. His Majesty suddenly spoke, breaking the electricity between the group.

“Y/N wants to learn how to properly fight. Jimin, could you teach her?” Sir Jimin burst in front of you, hair flying all over his face as he grinned at you.

“Of course! I would never turn down time with My Lady!” Sir Jimin’s eyes roamed your body and you can see the calculations turning in his mind. The look was quickly removed, as he held out a hand to you. “Let’s start now. Shall we?”

Timidly, you placed your hand in his and let him drag you away.

“Wait- what?! I didn’t mean now!”

You turned your head to see the other boys holding His Majesty back. But you could see that there was not much struggles coming from his as well. Waving your hand at him, you continued to allow Sir Jimin to lead you around and through some turns. Sir Jimin was excitedly blabbing on about how much they have waited to meet you and you felt a little bad.

As the both of you stopped at the training ground, you saw the rings, an assortment of weapons, and so many different types of training elements. When in your old pack, you learned archery and swordmanship. The guards would teach you defense and ensure that you could fight but this -

Goodness… You have never seen anything like it!

“Shall we start?” You turned back to Sir Jimin. “I’ll have to evaluate your strengths and weaknesses before I start to teach you anything.”

Throwing you a wooden sword, you easily caught it as you prepped your stance. But Sir Jimin was fast. He was much faster and agile compared to the guards in your old pack - and no, he did not go easy on you. Bringing the sword up to block the unexpected blow, you willed strength in your arms as you fought, putting more distance between the both of you. The both of you fought and your breath started getting shorter and heavier. You had to finish this quick.

Summoning more energy into your movements, you kept light on your feet as you bounded over to Sir Jimin, feigning an attack to his right but tunring left at the last second. You hooked your foot over his and pulled, whirling to his back as you used his weight and temporary shock to pull him down and turned him onto his front. You layed the dull wood of the slab onto his neck.

You were panting for your breath and landed in a heap over Sir Jimin. He looked like he was still in shock so you leaned forward to poke his cheek, trying to find out if he was still alive. When he didn’t move, you frowned. Feeling the man’s head for any bumps of blood for any signs of concussion, you wee certian you didn’t hit his head too hard to cause him to pass.

Just as you were about to call for help, you heard footsteps coming closer towards hte both of you. Shoes scuffed on the rough terrain of the training ground and your fight has not left you. Turning on your heels, you prepped yourself for another fight. You weren’t sure who or what you were going to fight but you needed to ensure you adn Sir Jimin made it out alive.

Even if he might probably be… dead?

But when you looked up, you say His Majesty staring at the both of you together with Scholar Taehyung at his side. Only then did you realise the position you and Sir Jimin were in. Your body leaned over his as you sat on the curve of his back, Sir Jimin unmoving below you. The silence between the four of you stretched long.

“Damn.” You flinched at sudden movement below you.

Snapping out of your daze, you leaped off Sir Jimin. You held off jumping to His Majesty as feelings overcame you. You didn’t want him to be mad but you didn’t know his boundaries to his emotions. You were caught in a compromising position by your own mate and you did not want to trigger anything else you shouldn’t.

But His Majesty hopped over and around you, jumping around you like an excited bunny. “Finally! We have finally found the savious to shutting Jimin up! HAHA!”

You stood there, confused.

“Jimin has always prided himself in being the best swordsman amongst our group and he would not stop bragging about it everytime we ask him for a duel. But now that you have flopped him on his ass-”

“Yah! Stop it!” You turned your head to Sir Jimin. He was dusting himself off and stomping over towards the three of you. “Stop bringing down my hard-earned reputation!”

His Majesty and Scholar Taehyung rolled on the floor laughing. Then you heard a squeaky laugh from your side as well, one that sounded like when you cleaned the windows. The sound as the cloth passed the dry windows.

Flinching, you turned to your left, finding Scholar Seokjin bent over his knees, pointing to the trio as he tried to mouth something but the words couldn’t get out. His wheezing form coupled with his squeaky laugh made you chuckle. When you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore, you followed along with the group, their contagious laughter enveloping your senses.

It was then that you realised - this is what home feels like. You still had a long way to recovery, perhaps never even a chance to return to how you were as a kid. But growth is needed if one wanted to live. But these people have taught you the true feeling of being at ease, feeling safe. And you were certaintly grateful for those you now call friends and mate.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you observed the clear sky with a few clouds looking like animals floating by. You hoped that your previous pack would be able to have a better leader soon. Nobody should live in fear and you wished that they would be able to see better days. Turning around, you followed the Scholars, Sir Jimin, and His Majesty. This time, as His Majesty slid his hand to yours, you didn’t hesitate to grab onto it, swinging your connected palms as the five of you walked into the future.

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we-are-maladaptive · 1 year

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tags: pining (theres a bonus at the end tho), author proofread and put their heart and soul into this writing words: 1.2k

Loud and brash, never goes unnoticed.

Messy blonde hair and piercing eyes of blood, they could slice through someone’s soul.

You wished he’d look at you, and slice through yours.

He’s come here ever since he was young, and you’ve been here ever since you were young, watching him from afar. You were so familiar with the place, that when you got older, you decided to take a job at the fair. It paid well, and you had good relations with the owner.

Katsuki Bakugou. He comes to the fair every year with his friends, and you watch him, every year. So high and mighty he is compared to you, chest toned and carved to perfection, and hair always puffed and pointed in every direction. Sometimes he’ll even crack a small smile when he can’t contain his joy anymore, but it’s short lived, as his lips form back into a straight line.

His eyes always fail him, not being able to hide the emotion swirling in them, in contrast to his emotionless face. His face..lips thin, but the feeling of them pressed against you must be hotter than any explosion could ever make, the feeling of his body against yours, even if it’s just a brush, could destroy far more than anything he thought he was capable of destroying.

This love was painful, Katsuki Bakugou was painful.

Watching him on TV, watching his life flash before his eyes time and time again. Watching him with his friends, oh how you wished you could be one of them, any of them. Anything, if it meant being by him, for him to acknowledge you.

He’s so much better than you that it hurts.

But what hurts the most, is that each year he comes to the fair, it’s one year closer to the year when he won’t show up. Maybe he’s busy with hero work, or he had something that came up, it didn’t matter what it was- you knew that when that day came, the childhood memories of this fair would be gone, and he’d never come back.

You could never have him, his body pressed against yours, his lips pressed against your own. You could never feel him, his chest that’s toned and carved to perfection, or his hair that’s always puffed and pointed in every direction. You couldn’t be on the other end of his small smile, when he can’t contain his joy anymore, even if it’s short lived, as his lips form back into a straight line.

The ache in your heart felt almost physical, but it quickly was discarded as there was now- a very real ache in your shoulder and head.. You must have not looked where you were going, stuck in your own thoughts. Whatever you bumped into, it was strong enough to knock you on the ground- or maybe your knees were weak with the daze you’d been in earlier.

You looked up, your vision still blurry. The sunset looked pretty, swirls of red emotion coursing through the sky, but as your blur subsided, you realized what you were looking at, or who you were looking at, he wasn’t a sky.

“You a fuckin’ zombie? If it ain’t that, then are you blind? You’re lucky you didn’t knock over my drink, if you did I woulda’ ripped those eyes out your damn skull, since ya’ don’t use em’ anyway.”

Loud and brash, never goes unnoticed.

Messy blonde hair and piercing eyes of blood, they could slice through someone’s soul.

Today, this year, they finally sliced through yours.

His insults meant nothing, the scarred hand reaching out to your inferior one, contrasting his actions in every way.

You swallowed, and took his hand. His skin against yours, even if it's just a brush, just like you thought- it destroyed you.

“T-thank you, Ka- Bakugo.”

“You know my name? You watch me on television or some shit?”

“..Okay then, stalker.”

A shout of Katsuki’s name had him turning his attention away from you. Finally breaking away from his eyes, you realized that it was late. The sunset is not in red hues, but blue and pink. You wished it was red though. Maybe when next year comes around, the sunset will match his eyes, and you can tell him what you thought about him all these years. If there was a next year- wait…

“..-WAIT!!” You shouted at him, he had slowly begun to walk away from you, as you daydreamed about him under a red sunset. It came out more as a strangled cry, a disheveled plea. It caused him to whip his head back around, you could almost see a hint of concern on his face.

“Promise..promise me you’ll come back next year?”

He rolled his eyes “.....Next year? Please, I plan on bringing my kids to this place, if it’s still runnin’ by then.”

For the first time, you didn’t feel an ache anymore. It was instead replaced with something warm, something hopeful.

With this, he turned away again, fading into the crowd of useless people and the slowly darkening sky, until he was no longer to be seen.

The sky was pitch black now, nothing but you and your own thoughts as you lay sprawled out on the bed. Too lazy to make the sheets, limbs on either side of the mattress. Convincing yourself that the events that unfolded a few hours prior was nothing but a dream. You had to stay at the fair a little bit longer, since you worked there. At least they let you wear your own clothes and not some tacky uniform, you would have died if he saw you in something like that.

Sleeping was hard but you had to make do, since you had work again tomorrow.

BONUS:

“What took you so long, dude? Who were you talking to over there?” Cool and raspy voice, red spiky hair, not pointed in every direction, it was pointed downwards, not drowned in gel like whenever he was in his hero attire. Katsuki’s right hand man.

“Nothin’. Just bumped into someone is all.”

“That’s all? You were over there for a while, Kats.” A pink haired girl chirped in his direction.

“You finally see some eye candy at the fair?” A yellow haired boy, with a streak of black to the side, taunted him after the girl.

More people were in the car, listening to the conversation, like the green haired guy sitting next to Katsuki. He didn’t dare to taunt him, though.

“I can’t have a single fuckin’ conversation with anyone without you guys spewing some stupid bullshit.” He growled at them rather loudly, causing them to go silent, not without a few giggles though.

The remainder of the car ride stayed silent though, people putting in headphones when they couldn’t bear what was on the aux, Katsuki included.

It gave him time to think about things, his career, his plans for dinner, better insults to throw at people, and the “someone” that he bumped into earlier.

(“You come to this fair every year, with your friends. You guys seem really close- it’s nice to watch you- you guys.”)

(“Promise..promise me you’ll come back next year?”)

“You guys free tomorrow?” His voice rang out through the car.

“It’s Saturday Bakugou, everyone’s free.”

“... Does anyone have fucking plans tommorrow?”

Silence echoed throughout the car.

“Good. Cause’ I wanna go back tomorrow.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugo x you #katsuki x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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writingmingyu · 10 months

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Fade Into You

Title: Fade into You Pairing: Joshua x Gender-Neutral!Reader Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers Summary: After drunkenly agreeing to meet an online friend in real life for the first time, you discover this wasn’t the first time you’d met. Word count: 4.8k plus 2

Author’s Note: This was part of the @svthub Fall-ing for You collab! I had fun writing this as it's something different for me. I wanted to give off Gilmore Girls vibes with this and I think I achieved it.

I hope you enjoy reading! And don't forget to check out all the other fics that are part of this collab!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You double-checked your appearance in the rearview mirror before taking a deep breath and leaving the car. You were about to go on your first blind date in forever and you were freaking out.

Well it wasn't entirely blind, you had been talking to JH48536 for about a month now and finally had the confidence - or too much wine - to agree to meet in person. You were just worried it was going to be a disaster.

Everyone had warned you that meeting up with someone from an online chat room was dangerous. You had about six friends in a group chat on standby ready to jump in and save you at a moment's notice. Even as you walked through the parking lot towards the cafe you spotted Soonyoung and Minghao chilling in Soonyoung's car.

Subtle. You texted Minghao as you opened the cafe door.

Just say the word and we'll create a diversion. Was the response you got back. You shook your head with a smile before pocketing your phone, imagining Minghao running into the cafe with ketchup on his face yelling that there was some kind of crash outside. Soonyoung would be lying in the middle of the street.

You open the door to the cafe and are immediately hit with the warmth and smell of coffee beans. You loved coming into a cosy space after being out in the autumn air, no matter how little or how long you were outside. You approach the counter and read the specials board, just as someone is calling out the name of the next person’s order.

“Joshua!”

You’re head turns on instinct to look for who this Joshua might be. It couldn’t be, you thought to yourself as you scanned the room. But sure enough, it was as if you had materialised him from thin air.

Joshua Hong stood up from the corner of the room and made his way to the counter. He was taller and his hair was darker, but there was no mistaking this man. It was Joshua, your Joshua. The same Joshua you had been best friends with when you were ten years old. The one you had kind of had a crush on but were too afraid to admit and then his family moved out of town and you never saw him again. Until now.

He smiled as he thanked the waitress for his coffee, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He still had the same mischievous smirk that used to get you two into plenty of trouble as kids.

“Joshua?” You say, catching his attention before he heads back to his seat.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Joshua walked over to give you a hug. It had been ten years, but he still smelt the same as you remembered, like toasted almonds and sandalwood.

“What’re you doing here?” You were still in a bit of a daze when you separated. Your heart beating faster and a flush coming to your cheeks. You hadn’t really thought about Joshua since he’d moved away but now he was standing in front of you and memories came flooding back.

“I just moved back into town, I was actually thinking about you the other day.”

“Really?” You cursed yourself for sounding hopeful.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you still lived here. And here you are.”

“Here I am,”

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit? I’m supposed to be meeting someone but they’re not here yet.”

“Yeah sure, let me just order some coffee first.”

Joshua headed back to his seat and you ordered a pumpkin spice latte. As you were waiting at the counter, your phone pinged with a message. It was just Soonyoung asking if everything was going okay, but you’d been distracted by your childhood friend reappearing that you’d completely forgotten why you were there.

Yeah, everything’s fine. He’s not here yet but ran into an old friend. You texted back.

You got your latte and went to sit down opposite Joshua. You still couldn’t believe he was back after all this time. But as you fell into conversation, it was almost as if you two had never been apart. You were instantly reminiscing about the past and all the adventures you had together.

“So I’m thinking I have been stood up,” Joshua says after a while. You had both finished your coffees and time had been ticking on.

“Oh, I totally forgot you were meeting someone!” Come to think of it, you were supposed to meet someone too. You check your phone to see a few messages in the group chat - Minghao had done a drive-by of the cafe window to scope out your ‘childhood friend’ and everyone was wondering if he was cute.

Pics??? Soonyoung had asked.

He’s definitely her type. Minghao had reported back to the group.

You rolled your eyes and opened up the app where you had been talking to your mystery man. Your heart almost stopped when you saw he was online, and you felt like time had slowed when you could see he was typing. This was definitely going to be a ‘sorry I can’t make it’ message. You had been talking with Joshua for at least half an hour, there was no way this guy was going to show up now.

“Is something wrong?” Joshua asked.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, the guy had stopped typing and you looked up to see Joshua had pulled out his own phone. “It’s just, I was supposed to meet someone too, and I was just checking to see if he had messaged, it looked like he was typing so I think he might’ve changed his mind.”

“Oh no, that sucks,”

“It’s fine,” you tried to brush it off. It wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up, besides you had your friends outside so you wouldn’t be lonely. “Did you hear from the person you were supposed to meet?”

“I’m actually just going to send them a message now,” Joshua turned back to his phone and began typing again, you watched as he typed out his message and pressed send. Maybe he was having better luck than you were. “Maybe they didn’t see me in the corner.”

As Joshua puts his phone away, you’re phone pings with a message. Your heart is beating in your ears as you glance down, prepared for the worst.

Hey, I’m here but I got caught up talking with a friend - I don’t know if you’re here yet but just wanted to let you know I didn’t forget about our meeting today 🙂 We are in the corner of the cafe, just come over and say hi.

“Oh my God,” you whisper to yourself. You read the message a couple of times over before looking up at the man in front of you. Was Joshua the person you were supposed to meet today? This didn’t make any sense. You had been talking to this guy for weeks, surely you would have pieced together if you were talking to someone you knew?

You looked at the username again and suddenly it clicked - JH48536 - Joshua Hong. How it hadn’t occurred to you before you had no idea. You had never asked this man his name, he had never asked for yours either and most of the time you just thought it was a random username with letters and numbers. You didn’t think it actually stood for anything.

“Joshua, is your online username JH48536?”

“Um…yes?” He responds looking confused.

“And did you just send a message saying you are with a friend and you didn’t forget about your meeting today?”

Joshua’s confused face turns to one of realisation as he pieces together what you’d just told him. “So you’re HopelessRomantic24893?” Your username was not your best, but you hated being put on the spot for that kind of thing.

You nod still in shock, thinking about when Joshua was talking to you online. He had mentioned something about his childhood best friend, he was sad that you’d never kept in touch after he moved and you had related to that saying you missed the old boy next door. It’s crazy how you never made the connection about each other before.

“That’s wild,” Joshua leans back in his chair. He was probably doing the same thing you were doing, trying to see if there were hints in your previous conversations about who you were. “I had no idea,”

“Me neither,” you wanted to laugh, it was a strange coincidence but you were relieved to know that you weren’t stood up and grateful that the person you met online wasn’t a total stranger.

“So what now?”

“Well, I should probably text my friends and let them know you’re not a serial killer.”

Joshua laughs, “how do you know it’s been a long time,”

“I feel like if you wanted to kill me, you would’ve lured me into a dark alleyway by now. Besides you didn’t know I was your mystery date,” you typed out a message to your friends that you were fine before stowing your phone away.

“True, but now I know, there’s still time.”

“Well, my friends know who you are now so I’d say reschedule the murder plans for another day.”

“I guess I’ll have to go with plan B.” Joshua gets up from his seat and holds out his hand. “Y/N, would you like to come with me on a trip to the town’s autumn fair?”

“I’d love to,” You take his hand and you head out of the cafe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You hadn’t been to the annual autumn fair since you were sixteen. It was the kind of thing that only appealed to families and elder people. It was held at the farm on the edge of town and the whole community came together to celebrate the harvest season.

Before you step out of the car, you begin swiping away messages from the overactive group chat. Once you had told the boys, Joshua was your blind date they started freaking out and wanting more information. All you told them was you were safe and they could go home. But you couldn't help looking over your shoulder to see if Minghao and Soonyoung had followed you. They had to be around here somewhere, they weren’t going to leave without photos for the group chat.

"Wow, I haven't been here in forever." Joshua yawned, stretching his arms above his head. You couldn't help but notice his sweater ride up when he stretched, revealing some of his stomach.

"Me neither," you replied, taking a breath and looking around. "Still looks the same though."

You had loved coming to the farm with Joshua as a child. You would compete in apple bobbing and he always won, chase each other through the corn maze and spend hours in the pumpkin patch choosing the perfect pumpkins for carving.

"Where do we start?"

"Well, I don't know if apple bobbing is still your thing," you say as you pay for your entry fees. "But I think you still hold the record."

"No way, really?" Joshua's eyes lit up. "Let's go see."

You approached the apple bobbing stations by the barn. There were a group of kids huddled around a barrel trying to grab apples with their teeth. Looking back you realised it probably wasn't the smartest thing to be doing growing up, but it was tradition.

The leaderboard was pinned to one of the barn doors and Joshua walked ahead to read it.

"Joshua Hong, twelve apples." He read. "I was good."

"Y/N, three apples," you pointed at the bottom. "I shouldn't even be on there."

"Three's pretty good, considering." Joshua tilted his head toward the group of children. They probably had one apple between them.

"Apple bobbing is hard, you just have a big mouth."

"Nah you just didn't wanna get wet."

"Getting a little wet never hurt anyone, you wanna go again?" The words come out of your mouth before you realise what you've said. It wasn't exactly the first date activity you had in mind, and you usually wouldn't be so forward but being around an old friend made things easier. If anything, it was your childhood competitiveness coming out.

"I'm game if you are," Joshua was already shrugging out of his coat and scarf.

You rolled your eyes. "Game on," you pull your own scarf off and knelt down in front of a free barrel.

"Y/N? Joshua Hong?" The woman who was supervising the apple bobbing came to stand in front of you.

"Mrs McDonnell! Nice to see you!" Joshua smiled, he always was a charmer to people of authority, your old principal especially.

"Don’t tell me you two are really going apple bobbing,” the principal looked down disapprovingly at both of you but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Absolutely, we are. I came to defend my title.”

"Well, you know the rules, you have two minutes to get as many apples as possible. You can only use your teeth, no hands! I know you used to cheat Joshua.”

“So that’s how you have managed to get so many apples,” you should have known he was cheating but you were always too busy focusing on your own apple-bobbing attempts to notice.

“That’s not true! And I’ll prove it, right here, right now.” Joshua put his hands behind his back.

“All right, I’ll be keeping a firm eye on you then.” Mrs McDonnell opened her phone to set a timer. “Your two minutes starts…. Now!”

You and Joshua both lean down towards the apples in the water, immediately being brought back to being ten years old, you begin to work an apple over to the edge of the barrel to try to bite into it. Joshua’s head was next to yours and you could feel him struggling next to you, he definitely cheated when you were children.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally had a good enough grasp on the apple with your teeth to pull it out of the water and you dropped down next to you. Before heading back in, you took a few seconds to watch Joshua. He was trying the same technique as you and was furiously biting at an apple trying to get enough of a grip to lift it, but it kept floating away.

“Not so easy without your hands, is it?” You smirk.

“You’re just a square for playing by the rules.” Joshua shot back, finally managing to grasp the apple with his teeth and pull it out of the water.

“Thirty seconds left!” Mrs McDonnell calls.

You both dive back into the water and almost bump heads, but you work hard to get a second apple. All you needed was one to beat Joshua and that was something you could hold over his head forever.

Thankfully, you were able to spy a smaller apple and were able to get a good hold of it and you pulled it out of the water just as the timer finished.

“Ha!” You said triumphantly. “I win!”

“Congratulations Y/N! I knew you could do it.” Mrs McDonnell handed both of you towels to wipe your faces. “Now, go cause havoc somewhere else. I have children to supervise.”

You dab your face and pick up your belongings. “Don’t feel too bad for losing, it’s your own fault for cheating years ago. There was no way you were going to live up to that.”

“Well, there goes my plan to impress you with my apple-bobbing skills.” Joshua reached over to wipe some water from your chin. He lingered for a second and your cheeks flushed at the intimate gesture.

“Oh please,” you brought yourself out of the moment. “It was never your apple-bobbing skills that impressed me.”

“Then what was it?”

You thought about your answer as you both left the barn. There were a lot of things that Joshua did to impress you as a child. He was an adventurous kid, and he never backed down from a challenge. The confidence he emanated was contagious and he pushed you out of your comfort zone.

“The way you were so fearless as a kid.”

“As a kid? You mean I’m not now?”

“Well, we only just got reacquainted I don’t know if you still take risks like you used to.”

“I definitely do,” there was a twinkle in his eye, he had a plan.

“Like what?” you were curious, so you played into it.

“Like meeting up with a stranger I met online,”

You rolled your eyes, “I did that too, doesn’t count.”

“What about this?”

Joshua turned to face you, his hands coming up to cup your face and tilting your head up to kiss you. The kiss was soft and only lasted a few seconds, but the spark you felt when your lips connected was electric. You’d never imagined kissing Joshua Hong, you only realised you had feelings for him after he’d moved away but even then, you never pictured anything coming from the crush. You never thought you’d see him again, but here he was, standing in the middle of the fall fair with you, kissing you.

When he pulled away, you only wish he’d stayed longer, closer to you in your space. Your face felt cold from where his hands had been.

“It was a mistake wasn’t it?” Joshua said, interpreting your pout for him stepping over a line.

“No! The opposite,” you rushed to say. “I’m just surprised.”

“Surprised because I’m still a risk-taker or because I’m an awesome kisser?”

You rolled your eyes, “Surprised that you think you’re an awesome kisser. Come on, let’s go check out the rest of the fair.”

The rest of the afternoon passed by peacefully, you walked together through the vendors selling trinkets and produce. Both of you willingly taking any free sample that someone offered, just like when you were kids. Though this time, you felt a little guilty so ended up buying a few items from the sellers.

At the end of the stalls, you see someone selling hot chocolate, so you both decide to stop to have a cup. It was the same stall you had always begged your moms to take you to, and they rarely said yes, but now as adults you were not going to deny yourself the pleasure.

Once you had gotten your cup you turned to try to find a place to sit amongst all the people in the makeshift food court area when two people in the corner caught your eye. “I’ll be back,” you tell Joshua.

Your hunch was right about your friends following you to the fair. You headed towards Soonyoung and Minghao.

“What are you guys doing here?” You demanded trying to keep cool.

“Making sure your friend isn’t a murderer,” Soonyoung replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Just because you knew each other when you were twelve doesn’t mean anything, he could have turned into a murderer since then.”

“That’s funny, he said the same thing. But as you can see, I’m still alive.”

“Look, we’re just enjoying the fair like everyone else, what’s the big deal?” Minghao asked.

“It’s just weird for you to be stalking me on a date. I don’t stalk you guys on your dates.”

“You asked us to,” Soonyoung had a point.

“I guess I did initially. But I told you guys everything was fine.”

“Yeah but if we hadn’t come we wouldn’t have seen the kiss!” Minghao exclaimed, pulling out his phone. It was zoomed in and very blurry, but there was no mistake that was your first kiss with Joshua caught on camera. Had they really been following you that closely?

“Oh my God, tell me you didn’t tell the group chat?!” You pull your phone out to see a LOT of unread messages.

“Sorry, we’re excited for you. This guy seems like a keeper!”

“That’s great but could you leave us alone now?”

“Fine, but you better text us to make sure you get home safe,” Soonyoung said.

“Sure thing Dad.”

“I’m just saying, the murderer thing has yet to be disproven. There’s still time for him to lure you into the woods to your death.”

You sighed, Soonyoung was always one for dramatics. “When do you think he’ll pass that test?”

“Maybe by the third date, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Okay, I’m leaving now. You guys should too.”

“We love you too!”

You turned back to your date and hoped you didn’t look too flustered. Joshua had found a table and was just scrolling on his phone. You couldn’t help but get butterflies as you made your way back towards him. It was a strange feeling, one that reminded you of when you used to see Joshua as a kid. You thought it was just excitement for seeing your best friend but maybe there had always been something more there.

“There you are, I thought I’d lost you.” Joshua put his phone away.

“Sorry I just ran into some friends, I just wanted to say hi.”

“That’s cool, so what next?”

“I’m not sure, I’m just glad we were able to get some hot chocolate.” You take a sip of your drink, it had cooled down while you were talking to your friends but it still tasted just as you remembered. Sickly sweet and smooth like silk.

“I think I have an idea.”

Joshua wrapped his hand around yours as he pulled you towards the corn maze. You protested as you were sure to get lost since you hadn’t been there in ten years. “Muscle memory,” Joshua had said, walking backwards as he pulled you in. “I bet I could get us out of here blindfolded.

You let yourself be dragged into the maze but you didn’t think anything good was going to come of it. The maze was giant and even as kids you usually had to be rescued after getting lost in there. It was one of the only times you were allowed to use your cellphone as a kid and while Joshua always put on a brave face, he was just as scared as you were back then.

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever made it out of this maze,” you remind him as you begin making turns, left and right, right then left.

“Not with that attitude we didn't. I'm pretty sure we go right here…”

You let Joshua take the lead as you navigated your way through the maze. You were surprised at how well he was doing, or at least amazed at his confidence. You two didn’t speak much as you passed by families, groups of children and other couples.

A few times you hit dead-ends but Joshua didn’t let you dwell on it too long before he was taking off in a new direction. Even if you were going to be stuck here for a while, you didn’t mind watching Joshua’s broad shoulders and his behind as you followed him around.

“Ah ha!” Joshua exclaimed as you made your way out of the exit. Or rather…the entrance. Somehow you had gone in a huge circle and ended up at the beginning again.

“At least we made it out,” you laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, is it possible the place got bigger since we’ve last been here?”

“Probably, I mean they have to do something to keep people coming back year after year. Still, your navigation skills were very impressive. I wouldn’t have been able to get out of there without you.”

“You’re welcome,” Joshua smiled.

“So we’ve conquered the maze…sort of. Now come on, there’s one last thing we have to do before we leave.”

You led the way this time as you made it to the merry-go-round in the middle of the grounds. It was one of your favourite things about the fair and the place where you always imagined you would have your first kiss.

When you told Joshua this he leaned over from his horse and kissed you on the cheek. “I know we had our first kiss earlier, but we can pretend this was our first.”

“I’ll tell everyone, we had a magical day at the fair and he kissed me on the merry-go-round.”

“That's all I ask,”

You look over at Joshua, but this time not as the boy you once knew but the man he is. It was different now, knowing that all the things an online stranger had told you now applied to the same person you knew as a child. He wasn’t that boy anymore and while you might have had a crush on the boy he was, you were wondering if you could love the man he is now.

As you exited the merry-go-round the fair was shutting down so you made your way back to the car.

You were sad the day was ending because it had been so perfect. You didn't think you'd ever have a first date like this again. Hopefully, you won't have any more first dates at all.

When you pulled up to your house, Joshua insisted on walking you to your door, you rolled your eyes but allowed him to anyway.

“You know, no one has ever done this for me before.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t let them.”

“No, it’s because no one has ever offered.”

“Well that’s silly, how else are they going to get their goodnight kiss?”

You blush, knowing that’s what the end of the date was coming to. Even though Joshua had already kissed you a couple of times today, this was the one you had mentally prepared for, and even then you weren’t sure you were ready.

“I guess they don’t get one,”

“And do I?”

“Of course,”

You close your eyes and lean in as Joshua does the same, your lips gently brushing against each other as you feel the jolt of electricity you felt earlier in the middle of the fair. This time Joshua’s hands found their way to your waist to pull your body flush against his, his tongue parting your lips to deepen the kiss.

It lasted minutes, maybe hours, you couldn’t tell the time when you finally pulled apart. Remembering that you were on the porch and any one of your nosy neighbours had probably seen you.

“So?” Joshua said when he stepped back.

“So what?”

“Now will you admit I’m an awesome kisser?”

“Please, that was all me,” You laughed.

“As if,” he laughed too. “I definitely contributed at least 75%.”

“Hmm, let’s agree it was 50/50.”

“Fine, so when can I see you again?”

There was a glint of hope in Joshua’s eyes that made your heart flutter. He was nervous as if you would deny him the chance to see you again.

“Tomorrow?” You bit your lip hoping it didn’t sound too eager. The day had been so fun and you didn’t want to go without seeing him for too long either.

“Sounds good,” Joshua leaned in to give you another kiss, this time on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Joshua.”

You stayed on the porch until Joshua had disappeared out of sight before heading inside to warm up. You had desperately wanted to invite him inside but based on the kiss you had had on the porch things probably would have escalated a lot faster than you were ready for. But given the fact you were seeing him tomorrow, you weren’t sure how much more self-control you’d be able to have.

You went upstairs to run yourself a bath and finally let yourself wrap your head around the events of the day. You opened up your phone to reread messages you had sent to Joshua before you knew who he really was. Rereading the texts, you began to read between the lines and piece together the Joshua you knew before with the one you saw today. It was easy now that you knew what you were looking for.

As you reached the end of your messages you saw a new one had appeared while you were scrolling.

Hey, glad to have met you today. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow holds. 🙂

You smiled before typing a reply and sinking into your bath. Another message arrived on your phone and you checked to see yet another message from Soonyoung asking if you got home yet, he had sent at least five in the last half hour. You rolled your eyes at the messages before texting back that you were alive and then opened up the group chat to fill them in on your date.

“You guys will never guess what happened today…” You started, knowing they’d be hanging on to your every word.

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