#so y/n SAFELY crosses the road in this chapter :)

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 3

chapter 3. the new normal

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 13.3k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox and pls share your thoughts w me as we get into it ;) also in case its not clear, jimin's birth year in the fic is 1995, same as real life, and Y/N is 2 years younger than him. I always put the year for any flashbacks so you can work out how old they are :) any confusion, please let me know (i might make a mistake!) thanks angels! <3

17th July 2009

The heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room, curling around the dark oak furniture. Jimin sat quietly beside his father, his small legs barely brushing the floor. Across from them, Lee Han-Jae exhaled a long puff of his cigar, looking tired.

“They confirmed the crash?” Jihoon asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

Jimin did not know what accident his uncle and father had planned but he knew that his father had been on edge all day because of it.

Han-Jae nodded. “Mostly. But he's gone.” He downed what was left of his drink. “Did we take care of the family?”

Jihoon swirls his glass. “We’ll let them go, they have no one.”

“Except Kija and Min-Baek-hyun,” Han-jae counters.

“They mean nothing to us.”

“But they were loyal to Sehun.”

Upon hearing this, Jimin goes still, realising what’s happened. 

“Their loyalty was not just to Sehun but the entire Han family. They will protect them at all costs and they’ve been in this long enough to know not to retaliate if they want to keep themselves safe.”

Han-Jae says nothing else of the matter but his face does little to mask his disapproval. He took another puff of his cigar before he spoke again. “The other two men survived. Escaped before the flames could finish the job. They’re digging through the wreckage, but the police are sniffing around."It seems dental records are proving... inconvenient.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Inconvenient?” he echoed. “The detectives are a problem?”

Han-Jae waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Funny,” Jihoon said, leaning forward slightly. “You said the same thing about the last case they opened. And now I hear whispers about them building something bigger — trafficking charges. Another detective’s on the case, isn’t he?” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been careless, Han-Jae.”

The room tensed, the air thick with unsaid threats. Han-Jae stiffened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. “Watch your tongue, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s lip curled. “You’ve been playing dirty, using our resources to fund your side business."

Han-Jae remained indifferent. "You'll be asking for a share soon. All the pieces are almost complete and this detective is nothing more than a bump in the road. I'll deal with it."

"That's besides the point. I trusted you and you're acting foolishly."

"Foolishly?"

"Is it not?" Jihoon asked, patronising.

Jimin watched as Han-Jae got up wordlessly and walked over to his cabinet. He picked up the decanter and generously poured himself some whiskey.

“I’ve given you more than enough leash,” Jihoon continued, his voice rising. “But if you think I’ll let you drag my name down with yours, think again.”

Han-Jae emptied his glass before he turned, his face a mask of fury. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “We have somewhere to be.”

Jihoon didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned his attention to Jimin, his gaze cold and commanding. “Get a gun.”

Jimin froze, his blood turning to ice. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Now,” Jihoon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Then meet me by the car."

Jihoon left the room and Jimin followed, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He went towards the basement, down the stairs and past the training floor, all the way to the locked room at the back. Some of his father's men watched as he walked, but none said a word. Hands trembling, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and waited for the door to unlock, revealing an entire array of weapons lining the walls.

Jimin didn't think. He picked up the first handgun he saw, checked it was loaded and then walked out with the cold metal feeling alien in his grasp, the weight far heavier than he anticipated.

Without realising it, his feet carried him to the kitchen, where his mother stood slicing vegetables. She turned at the sound of his shaky breathing, her eyes immediately softening when she saw the gun in his hands.

“Jimin,” she whispered, crossing the room in an instant. She crouched down in front of him, pulling him into a gentle hug. The faint scent of lavender filled his nose, momentarily drowning out the suffocating reality around him.

“I can’t,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

His mother’s embrace tightened. “I never wanted this for you, Jimin,” she murmured, her voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled back, brushing his hair from his face with trembling fingers. “But this is your life now. Your father won’t wait. If you don’t go back, he’ll only get angrier.”

Jimin shook his head. “Why do you let him—” His voice broke off and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, but she quickly composed herself and closed his fingers around the gun. “You have to go now, before he comes looking for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his small frame trembling as she kissed his forehead and guided him toward the door.

The container yard smelled of damp concrete and iron, the air thick and stifling. As Jimin stepped out of the car, he immediately spotted Kwan and Duri ahead of them. 

Jihoon and Han-Jae walked ahead while Taemin and Jimin followed behind. As they went further into the yard, around a dark corner, Jimin glanced at Taemin, hoping for some kind of answer. Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a reassuring smile of sorts when Jimin glanced his way, but it did little to make him feel better. Jimin figured he knew where they were going since he and his dad spoke often.

Duri pulled the heavy door of one of the containers open as they approached and both fathers stopped short outside of the container. Han-Jae laughed mirthlessly and they both stepped aside for Jimin and Taemin to see.

Two detectives knelt on the floor, their faces bloodied and swollen, their hands tied tightly behind their backs.

Suddenly, the dead weight of the gun in his hand felt heavy again.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered both boys.

Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a solemn nod but said nothing.

Jihoon stepped into the container, and crouched in front of one of the detectives, his voice low but menacing. “I warned you to stay out of my business. But now, you’re here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The detective spat at Jihoon’s feet, earning himself a sharp backhand. Jihoon stood, motioning to Jimin. “Come here.”

Jimin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Now, Jimin."

Taemin looked between them and gently nudged Jimin forward. "Go on," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Jimin got closer, his eyes glued to the ground.

"This man is a threat to us,” Jihoon said, calmly. “End him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. “I-I can’t—”

Jihoon’s hand lashed out, striking him hard enough to send him stumbling. “You’re weak,” he snarled, stepping close to Jimin and speaking low in his ear. “Your mother’s made you soft.”

Jimin’s head snapped up and he ignored the harsh stinging sensation on his cheek. “Is that why you always send her away?” he asked, teeth gritted. “To keep her away from me?”

Jihoon froze, his face darkening. For a moment, Jimin thought he might strike him again. But instead, Jihoon looked right at Jimin and spoke, his voice icy. “She chooses to leave. Every time she walks out that door, it’s her choice. And it’s time you grew up and realised that.”

Jimin’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles white. He didn't look at the man before him but raised his arm, finger closing around the trigger. "You're right," Jimin said, voice low. "It is time I grew up."

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, the sound ringing in Jimin’s ears long after the man’s body hit the floor.

Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze. “Finally.”

But Jimin didn’t hear him. All he could see was the blood, pooling and spreading across the cold concrete. All he could feel was the weight of his father’s shadow, pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Jihoon glanced at Han-Jae, his lip curling in irritation. “You deal with the other one.”

Han-Jae smiled thinly, his hand settling on Taemin’s shoulder. “Go on, son.”

Taemin hesitated, his youthful face pale under the dim light of the yard's lights. He glanced at Jimin, whose expression was frozen in a mix of horror and detachment, and then back at his father.

Han-Jae’s smile faded. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

The weight of that question hung heavy in the air, and Taemin swallowed hard, but slowly, he stepped forward.

The second detective, bloodied and trembling, began to plead incoherently, his words dissolving into a sob.

Jimin’s stomach churned violently. He couldn’t bear to watch as Taemin raised the gun with far steadier hands than his own, nor could he endure the suffocating tension of the warehouse any longer. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “I’m going to the car.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly but didn’t object. “Fine. Go.”

The indifference in his father’s voice stung more than any reprimand. Jimin moved toward the exit, his legs unsteady but quickening with each step.

The sound of the gunshot rang out just as he stepped out of the container, the echo chasing him into the night.

The air outside was still warm despite it being well past midnight. Jimin usually loved late summer nights like this but not today. As he walked around the bend, he felt more hot, and the humidity worsened the thick, suffocating tension inside.

He made it only a few steps further before his stomach betrayed him. Rushing over towards a stack of crates, he retched violently. The contents of his dinner surged upwards and all Jimin could hope was that he was far away enough from his dad.

His throat burned, and his body trembled as he leaned a hand against the cold metal for support.

When the heaving subsided, the silence around him felt deafening. His mind was a storm of guilt and revulsion. He could still see the detective’s lifeless eyes in his mind, and worse, as he still held the gun now, he kept imagining his finger was still around the trigger.

“This is your life now,” his mother’s voice echoed in his head, her words a hollow comfort against the growing ache in his chest.

His throat tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt the urge to cry. But the tears didn’t come. They couldn’t — not here, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs until the sharpness of it dulled his emotions. He repeated the motion over and over, steadying himself, quieting the chaos within.

Jimin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and straightened up. His legs felt heavier than before as he trudged toward the car, but by the time he reached it, his breaths had evened out, and his face was expressionless once more.

Sliding into the back seat, he leaned his head against the window and the chill of the glass grounded him.

As he sat there in silence, the weight of his actions settled like stones in his chest, and he knew this wouldn't be the last time.

Present day

It takes you a while to come to your senses, your fuzzy mind drifting in and out of sleep, telling yourself that you’re dreaming every time your eyes half open to see the surroundings of a room which isn’t yours. Your head sinks back into the feather filled pillow, your breathing is slow and steady and you remain completely still as you wait to wake up in your own bed, in your own home.

But it doesn’t happen. 

As you start to focus on the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flutter open fully and everything comes rushing back to you. Seojun lying helplessly on your kitchen floor, Minjun and the men flooding your kitchen, Dani and Siho dying to protect you. And Jimin.

The thought of it all hurts your head, and you push the thoughts down, focusing on something else for now. You have many questions and you’ll make sure to get answers, but right now, one thing you’re sure of, is that you’re safe. 

Looking around the room you’re in, you faintly recognise the large wooden doors and particular coving style on the walls. You spent more than a few days running around the halls of this estate, hiding and playing in the rooms belonging to the boy you were once friends with — now the man who saved your life…

It hasn’t escaped you, that had Jimin and his men not walked in when they did, Minjun would’ve killed you after he got whatever information he needed from you. 

You’ve never forgotten him, and now it seems like an odd sort of fate that you’ve ended up entangled in some kind of mess with him, thanks to Seojun. 

There’s definitely something going on, because there must’ve been a reason why Seojun was in your house, why he spent those late evenings at the cafe just trying to have a conversation with you. 

Looking next to you on the nightstand, you see your phone and purse, as well as a few of the other items you had in your pocket and your first thought is to call Yoongi. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell him and he might know something too. 

There’s also a small bowl of fresh fruit on the nightstand and a bottle of water — a small reminder that you’re safe here. 

As you reach for your phone, you feel a mild throbbing pain in your wrist. You almost forgot that Minjun cut you, but the wound is neatly bandaged now. Pushing the sheets back, you look down at your thigh to see it’s also been bandaged and you’re almost certain you’ll find stitches under there. You’re also wearing clothes that aren’t yours — a loose tee and baggy basketball shorts. You don’t remember anything since falling unconscious but you’re sure one of the housemaids must’ve dressed you.

Reaching for your phone again, you expect to see a call from your grandma since she normally calls you every morning, but your home screen shows no notifications except the many security camera notifications which you’re sure must show the events that took place at your home – you might be able to use it to identify a few of the men who were there, Yoongi certainly would be able to help you with that. 

Unlocking your phone, you open up your contacts and scroll through to find Yoongi’s name. Just before you can press call, there’s a knock at the door. Pausing, you look up and a few seconds later, the handle turns slowly. 

A slim man enters the room, dressed sharply head to toe in a suit… Your eyes widen, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

“Yoongi.” 

He smiles, though somewhat apologetically.”Y/N.” Walking over to your bed, he doesn’t hesitate to pull up the chair that sits in front of the dressing table and bring it beside your bed. While your thoughts race, Yoongi sits quietly and waits.

He’s been working for Jimin, of course he has – his dad was close with yours and Jimin, and after your father’s death, his dad, Min Baek-hyun, stayed close with your grandparents and still resides close to your grandma in Namwon, while Yoongi stayed in Seoul. All these years, you’ve stayed close friends with Yoongi, not knowing he was so close with Jimin too – someone you once considered a best friend.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask finally.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he murmurs, looking up. As soon as you meet his gaze, you know what he means by that… 

You still remember that night, a few months ago, when Yoongi asked you to take out the Cheong men at the warehouse holding the drugs. For the first time, you asked for something in return – for him to help you find who killed your dad. It was the fact that he looked away as soon as you said the words that told you he already knew. 

 “I need something in return.”

Yoongi lifted his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”

At this, Yoongi’s expression changed to one of concern and he hesitated. 

Meeting his gaze, you said his name. “Please.”

“Alright.” Yoongi shifted, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence as you mulled the words over in your head. It had been on your mind for a while, something you’d been considering often for the last few months, since you passed what would’ve been your father’s fifty fifth birthday. Not a day had gone by that you didn't miss him, and you’d known since his death that the last place he was called to, wasn’t a timely coincidence. You may have only been 12 at the time of his death, but your father always taught you to be aware of everything, and you’d noticed the tension between him and his friends for months before that night. Even the fact that you hadn’t seen Jimin in years, and the way Jihoon always disregarded your presence – that is before your father limited their visits to your family home. He was trying to protect you from them.

“I want to know who killed my dad.” 

The words felt strange on your tongue – though your dad’s murder wasn’t a secret to you, you didn’t often speak about it so forwardly, especially not to Yoongi. 

Concern returned to the lines in his face, brows furrowing as he shook his head and reached for your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You moved your hand from the table before he could hold it. “You know.”

He paused, eyes flitting down to where your hand was. Releasing a slow sigh, he closed his eyes. “And I think you already know.”

The anger and frustration you’d been holding on to for years began to surface.“It was them, wasn’t it?”

Yoongi looked up. “Y/N–”

“Lee Han-jae? And Park Jihoon?”

Yoongi gave the smallest of nods, and your fist curled in your lap. 

“Do you know why?”

“Y/N, please, don’t–”

“You promised, Yoongi.”

Meeting your gaze, Yoongi sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Everything.”

So he did…

Na Doyun was a corrupt prosecutor who worked for the Lee’s, keeping them out of trouble as long as they paid her well enough. It was the perfect deal until some of the DA became suspicious of Doyun’s intentions and motivations, and she panicked, demanding more money, as well as a way for her to launder all the funds she was receiving. 

The Lee’s had no choice but to comply since she had enough dirt on them to put them away for life, (as well as a supposed contingency plan that would expose them should they try anything to harm her), and so Han-jae developed a nightclub under his name and added Doyun as a majority shareholder, as well as a few others under his influence. It became one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Seoul and the perfect place for any illicit activity,

“The one that closed down months ago?” you asked, vaguely remembering. You were sure you'd followed more than a few unsuspecting victims of Yoongi’s from there on one of your errands for him..

“Yes. They have a few all over Seoul but none as big as that one. And you remember Taemin?”

“Lee’s son?”

“Yes.”

You barely saw Lee Taemin growing up. Though he was close in age to Jimin and you, his father had sent him to school in the United States. There were a few occasions where you were there together but unlike Jimin, he barely spared you more than a glance. 

“Closing the club was intentional on their part. Han-jae wanted Taemin to replace it with something much bigger and better.”

“The Benitoite.”

Yoongi nodded. “A clever move on his part. The nightclub was becoming a hot spot and that was risky for them. After years of illegal trading, predatory lending and more, they had to find a way to get rid of any liabilities who used to frequent the club for their own gain, and with the Benitoite, they got the DA off their backs while attracting a whole new world, as well as another way to make their money clean again.” Looking up, Yoongi carried on. “Once that was done, Doyun had nothing left to hold over them.”

“They killed her?”

Another nod.

Your hand tightened around the fob. You couldn’t say you felt bad for the woman, she was corrupt after all and served men doing worse than herself, but it still didn’t make any of this easier to hear.

Yoongi sighed, his hand moving towards yours. “You okay?”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“When that nightclub before the Benitoite first opened, your dad wasn’t opposed to it so he never said anything. But, Jihoon or Han-jae weren’t just abiding by what Doyun wanted, they both saw an opportunity and wanted to run part of the nightclub as a secret brothel for invited guests only, those who would pay enough.”

Yoongi looked up apprehensively, but he saw your expression and continued.

“They knew anyone who knew of them, or had any kind of business with them, feared them, so they used that. If there was anyone who had done them wrong, or owed them money, they offered them a way out.  Hundreds and millions worth of debt in exchange for years of service, and they didn’t care who it was. 

“A mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Any relation to the person who owed them was good enough and as you can imagine, none of the actual offenders offered themselves so it was all innocent family members being taken in. They would kidnap them and coerce them into working there doing whatever it was that needed to be done too. The whole thing was set up as a way for them to earn honest money to pay back whatever was owed.”

You looked up, repulsed. These are the men you once regarded as your uncles, seeing them as your dad’s friends you thought of them as family while growing up. It’s true that as you got older, you started to feel a certain way towards Jihoon because of how cold he was, especially with Jimin, but this was still beyond anything you would’ve expected of them.

“So that’s why they killed my dad?” 

Yoongi shook his head. “Not exactly.” Pausing, he studied your expression for a few seconds before he leaned over the table to grasp your hand. After a gentle squeeze, he let go. “There was a lot happening around that time, I don’t know the details but the way Han-jae and Jihoon saw it, is that your dad became soft. When he first found out about the nightclub he was angry and threatened both of them.”

Your stomach curled.

“They wanted to appease him so they said they would reconsider.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No. And truthfully I don’t think your dad ever believed them anyway.”

It went quiet, the distant humming of car engines along a nearby busy road carried the sound of your thoughts as they ran endlessly. 

Yoongi took another sip of his milk, watching you carefully. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I can tell you the rest another time.”

You looked across at home, taking a slow breath. You do feel like you’ve heard enough, but you need to know. “What more is there? They killed him after that, no?”

Traces of a grimace appeared on Yoongi’s face. “Not quite.” He paused, waiting. 

Wordlessly, you nodded for him to continue. 

“Did you know Han-jae was married twice?”

Nodding, you remembered his step-daughter, Jiyoung. She looked after you occasionally, but like Taemin, she wasn’t always there. “Yeah, his first wife passed away but Jiyoung was from her, right?”

“Not exactly, Jiyoung wasn’t Han-jae’s daughter.” 

Now, this was news to you. 

“And her mom wasn’t a huge fan of Han-jae, their marriage was arranged after her first husband died, and she had plenty of reasons to dislike the man and he felt the same, except she always threatened to expose him.” 

The arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise to you, as it was common amongst many of your father’s affluent friends, including your own parents, but you hadn’t known that Han-jae’s first wife despised him. 

“After she died, Jiyoung got older, she looked more like her mother, acted more like her, and Han-jae didn’t like her just as much as she didn’t like him, so…  he saw an opportunity to get rid of her.”

Eyes widening, you asked, “The nightclub?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down. “But your dad saved her.”

Despite the warm evening breeze, you feel your skin go cold.

Yoongi continues. “He knew something was going on and he happened to be there the night she was being taken. He killed the men and took her away to a safe place, out of the country.”

And just like that, it all made sense. “So that’s why they killed him.”

Taking your hand again, Yoongi nodded silently. “It was a means to an end for them,” he murmured. “Han-jae and Jihoon had changed. They weren’t who your dad befriended and their morals and ambitions were far from the same.”

Yoongi’s words were said to comfort you, but they only fueled your anger… your dad’s closest friends, the men who he regarded as brothers, were the ones who killed him.

That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, and as you see Yoongi sitting in front of you now, you understand why he chose not to tell you, but you can’t help but feel a tiny bit betrayed.

“Still could’ve told me,” you mumble, looking away from him.

“Would it have made a difference to anything?” he asks, leaning forward with a playful smile. 

Realising he’s right, you frown indignantly. “Might’ve stopped this,” you say, knowing it’s a weak point.

Yoongi’s expression darkens. Shaking his head slowly, he meets your gaze. “Nothing could’ve stopped this.”

Seojun is the first person that comes to your mind, and you feel your stomach coil. 

Reaching to hold your leg over the covers, Yoongi says your name. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

Nodding, you push the mental image of Seojun out of your mind. “I don’t actually know much,” you start, “Seojun had been coming into the cafe around once a week and would talk to me, just small talk. He must’ve known who I was but I didn’t realise until the last time. He seemed worried about something and kept asking me about grandma, and when she called, he’d left and there was a note on the table.” Looking towards the night stand where your belongings are, you see the note you pocketed then, and the drive is there too. You take them both, handing the note to Yoongi.  “This is what it said.” 

Yoongi takes a few seconds to read the simple words, She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. Frowning, Yoongi lowers it to the bed. “He must’ve known, but I don’t know how.” Looking up, he asks, “you never told him anything about your grandma?” 

“No,” you shake your head. “He just knew.” Thinking of this, you suddenly remember all those conversations you had with Seojun… he had a girlfriend. “Yoongi?” You meet his gaze with worried eyes. “He had a girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s expression softens, lips pursing. “Yeona. She knows. She lives here with us, she moved in with Seojun a year ago.”

Nodding your head slowly, you look away. You don’t bother asking how she’s doing, that would be a pointless question – you could tell how much Seojun loved her and from the stories he told you, you’re certain she loved him just as much, she must be heartbroken. The thought of it reminds you of the night your dad passed away… you’d never seen your mom in so much pain. 

As your emotions begin to swirl heavily again, you look up at Yoongi. “Did he not say anything at all about what he’d been doing?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We knew he was up to something, but Jimin told us to let him be.” Again, Yoongi’s expression looks pained. 

“Why?”

“A few weeks back, Jimin had one of their clubs raided by the police on the same night they were receiving a weapons shipment and there’s since been a good few detectives on their case. Taemin’s uncle got some time in prison for it and even though he’s out, they still wanted to send a message to Jimin, a way to get back at him… so they killed Seojun’s mom.”  

The words wound the knot in your stomach even tighter. “So Seojun wanted to get back at them?”

Nodding, Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin warned him not to, he promised they’d work it out together and end things for once, but Seojun was angry. Once we figured out he was up to something, Jimin told us to leave him and once Seojun had a plan, we’d join in on it.” Releasing a shaky breath, Yoongi looks down. “We never got to find out what it was, and each week we’d see him less and less. Everyone here knows how to look after themselves, but now I wish we’d taken more care.” 

Seojun was a friend to everyone here, Yoongi included, you realise. You know you ought to comfort him but you don’t think you know how. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur. 

He gives a small smile. “Finish telling me what happened.”

Sitting back into the cushions again, you recall the events from that night. “I left work as normal, came home and when I went upstairs, something felt off. So I went back down, and then I saw him in my kitchen, he was bleeding, barely conscious on the floor and I ran over to him. I tried to help him but he kept apologising, and then he gave me this.” Looking down, you hand the drive to Yoongi.

Confused, Yoongi turns it over in his hand. “Did he say what’s on it?”

“No,” you shake your head. “And it’s probably protected too since the Lee’s wanted it as well. But he told me to take it and find Jimin.” At this, Yoongi looks up and meets your gaze. “He kept saying he’d keep me safe and that I should leave him and go.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. He needed help, but it was too late. When I was about to get out, Minjun and some of his men came in. Seojun tried to help me but in the end…” you trail off, looking down. “In the end it was Minjun questioning me, asking me who I am. I lied, of course.” You finish telling Yoongi the rest of what happened, up until when Jimin and his men came in. 

When you’re done, Yoongi is cursing under his breath. “Minjun was a fucking psychopath.”

“Yeah, he seems like it,.” You remember the way he laughed when Jimin was punching him. 

“He has a brother, Kwan, he’s just as crazy, if not worse.”

The thought of it leaves you shuddering. Minjun was ruthless and you can’t imagine how much worse his brother is. You hope you never have to meet him, although luck hasn’t really been on your side recently.

“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly, moving from his seat to the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

He smiles softly. “Your wrist should be better in a few days, but your leg might take two or three weeks to heal well. I got you some crutches in case you wanna use them.” 

“Thanks, I probably won’t use them though.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Smiling at him, you push the sheets back to look at your bound leg. “It’s not deep is it?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “You got lucky. Only an inch or so. Ah, also,” he looks up at you apologetically, “you’ll need to stay here for a while until your house gets fixed.” 

“Oh.” You remember how the windows were smashed in as Minjun attacked, and you’re sure there’s more damage to the property that you’re not even aware of. 

“Jimin is making all the arrangements,” Yoongi continues, “but he’s trying to keep things quiet so I don’t know exactly when things will be sorted.”

“He doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“He wants to,” Yoongi responds. “He blames himself for what’s happened, so just let him please.” His words appear to carry more meaning, and you can’t imagine how he must feel after seeing Seojun dead. You still remember the look on his face when he saw the body.

“Why?”

“He blames himself for a lot of things,” Yoongi murmurs with a soft sigh. “This hasn’t helped.”

Even though it’s been years since you were close with Jimin, you still find yourself feeling a familiar twinge in your chest – ever since you’ve known him, Jimin has had to suffer so much hurt, you couldn’t even count on your hand the amount of times you saw him looking so defeated and terrified in front of his father. He seemed to prefer the company of Lee Han-jae over his own father, although you don’t know how much better Han-jae was as a father since his son, Taemin, was in America most of the time to study. All you know is how he treated Jiyoung.

Now, curiosity (or care) gets the better of you, and you ask, “What happened between them? Han-jae and Jihoon?”

Yoongi looks up, grimacing. “It started with money. Han-jae got greedy and wanted the Benitoite to be only his, but Jihoon insisted it belong to them both since the nightclub was half his effort, though he never really cared for the extra money, he just needed the front. Han-jae reluctantly agreed but it was clear he wasn’t happy. 

“And then Jihoon found out that Han-jae planned on going behind his back and he got angry. Han-jae was drunk one night and started threatening Jihoon, which only made him more angry. But before he could do anything, Taemin stepped in and shot him.”

“Taemin?!” you ask, surprised..

Yoongi nods. “He knew of his dad's plan for the Benitoite and he wasn’t fond of Jihoon, so he did what he had to to protect his dad. But Jimin was there.” His expression darkens. “He watched his best friend shoot his dad, who was bleeding out in front of him. I’m so grateful we were with him that day…” He trails off, exhaling as he looks down.

He doesn’t need to say anymore for you to know what he means – Taemin was going to have Jimin killed too. 

Your head lowers too. You don’t allow your thoughts to wonder what would’ve happened if Jimin had been alone, you’re just glad he got out. Though you can’t imagine what he must’ve felt given his relationship with Jihoon.

“Did he get to have a funeral for his dad?”

“Yeah,’ Yoongi answers. “Han-jae had just lost another one of his friends and the blood was on his hands, so he sent the body back to Jimin and tried to make amends, but Jimin wasn’t having it. He was already against everything they were doing and now that his dad had gone and he’d lost Taemin as a friend, he had no reason to keep ties with them.”

Leaning back into the cushions, you mull over everything he’s just said. For years, you stayed away from these families who were such a big part of your life growing up, and now you learn that they’ve fallen apart as well. 

After a moment, Yoongi speaks again. “I was surprised when they brought you in.” You look up at him as he continues. “I thought he might’ve recognised you, but he said nothing.”

“Do you think he does?” you ask, remembering the look on his face when he first saw you. “But he’s just not saying it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Might be. If he does remember you though, he’ll say something.”

“Are you going to tell them?” you ask, looking at him.

“Only if you want me to.”

After a few quiet seconds, you shake your head. “At least not yet.”

Yoongi nods and it goes quiet again. You close your eyes, leaning against the headboard as you think back on everything that’s happened, and then it comes to you.

“Dani and Siho,” you say, opening your eyes again as a heavy weight settles on your chest. “Did you get them out?”

Solemnly, Yoongi nods. “I sent them back to their families and have offered to make all the necessary arrangements for anything else they need.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Let me know what they say, I’ll sort it out for them..”

Yoongi nods again, pursing his lips as this time he reaches forward to take your hand and comfort you. “They knew the risks, Y/N,  better than anyone else.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it’s different, they were there because of me.”

“Yeah, but they made that choice, they wanted to fight for you,” Yoongi says, shifting on the bed. When you look at him, he winces slightly. “Sorry if this isn’t helping, you know I’m shit at comforting people.”

You smile. “I know.”

“Hey, you’re not any better though,” he says defensively, “you didn’t even hug me properly when my mom passed away.”

“What?” you chuckle. “I tried to, but I know you don’t like hugs.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Not normally, but then I would've liked it.”

“Oh…” Now you feel bad. “Really?”

He nods, only looking up at you when you fail to respond. Seeing your face, he smiles. “It’s okay though, I got lots of hugs from the guys here.”

Scoffing, you absentmindedly pull the covers over your legs again, feeling cold from the aircon. “Yeah, you’re telling me Park Jimin was giving out hugs?” It comes out sarcastically and without much thought.

“Yes, actually,” Yoongi answers simply. 

Pausing, you realise what you said and his response. You don’t know why you feel surprised when the Jimin you knew was nothing but caring and considerate towards others, oftentimes more than he was towards himself. 

As though he can read your mind, Yoongi smiles. “Surprised?”

“Kind of.”

“You knew him though,” he says, as though that makes it so obvious.

“Knew,” you repeat. “I didn’t expect him to still be the same.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I wouldn’t say he’s changed, but I wouldn't exactly say he’s the same either…” looking up, he smiles again. “I guess you’ll get to see for yourself now.”

“I guess so,” you say, reaching for an apple from the bowl beside you. Seeing Jimin again has been weird, but you can’t ignore the part of you that is ready to welcome a part of your old life back, someone familiar, someone you liked very much. Like Yoongi said though, you’ll get to see for yourself if he’s anything like you remember him. Although you were both younger then, you don’t think he would’ve changed much from what Yoongi has told you so far.

“D’you want something a bit more filling than that?” Yoongi asks, nodding to the apple you’ve just bitten into. “Dinner is just about to be served so you can come down to eat or I can bring it up for you?”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you answer, hearing your stomach growl after receiving a tiny morsel of food. “I am quite hungry, so I think I'll come down.”

“Sure,” Yoongi chuckles, “you must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Three days?!” When he nods, you immediately reach for your phone. “I need to call Moni, she’s probably wo–”

“I already have,” Yoongi says, interrupting you quietly.

Fingers freezing over her name, you look up at Yoongi. “What?”

“I already called her.”

A frown settles on your face. “What did you say?”

Yoongi has always been aware of your wish to keep everything hidden from your grandma, so he hesitates now, knowing this would be your response when he told you he called her. “Everything, but Y/N, she needed to know.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “Sorry.”

For a moment, it goes quiet and you lower your phone to the covers. Yoongi is right, she did need to know about this, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to this kind of stuff. Besides, what happened wasn’t related to any of the stuff you’ve been doing for Yoongi, which is what you always wanted to keep from her, and what’s happening now does seem to involve you, and therefore her.

“Sorry,” you say. “You’re right, I just didn’t…” you sigh, trailing off as you think about how worried she must be. Your grandma is a strong woman and you’re everything to her, just as she has been yours. 

“I know,” Yoongi says, understanding what you mean without you saying it; he knows your grandma well enough too.

“What did she say?” 

“First, she just wanted to know if you were safe,” Yoongi answers. “After that, she didn’t say much except that she’ll come as soon as she can.”

You nod. Knowing she’s coming brings a smile to your face, you’ve missed her a lot. Before you can respond, your stomach growls again. 

“Come on,” Yoongi says smiling, getting up and pushing the covers back, “let’s get you some food.”

“You still remember it?” Yoongi asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Taking another step, you shrug. “I wasn’t that little when I was last here, I must’ve been, what, eleven? Twelve?” 

“Hm, Yoongi hums. “Still impressive.” He keeps a hand hovering around you should you need him, but you’re doing just fine, walking slowly down the hall you recognise as being the third floor.

The Park Estate isn’t much different from what you remember. The estate sprawled across acres, is a masterfully designed blend of elegance and practicality. The entrance opens to a grand foyer, splitting into two distinct wings. The East Wing houses the biggest office which used to belong to Jihoon, and now you assume it would be Jimin’s. It’s flanked by a suite of offices, all of which are bathed in polished woods and leather tones, belonging to his closest men. The West Wing, larger and more personal, feels more like a home. It rises three floors (taking the space above the East Wing) to accommodate the family’s quarter’s on the top most floor, a lounge and other rooms on the second, and downstairs is a dining room, a sleek kitchen caters to formal gatherings and another lounge. 

Yoongi points out his room as you pass it, as well as naming some of the other guys whose names you try to pay attention to as you ignore the mild pain that spreads through your leg. 

As you approach the stairwell, you notice another dimly lit corridor leading off the main hallway. You can’t see anything down the corridor as you pass, only a wall with light coming from the left and you assume it continues on. 

“Jimin’s room is down there,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you nod, carrying on. It makes sense for his room to be separate from the rest.

The second floor has a few extra guest bedrooms which are rarely used, and a private lounge which is different to what you remember, with a huge balcony that overlooks the gardens and the furniture has changed from mostly dark colours to a much warmer colour palette.

Downstairs, the split between the East Wing, and the West Wing is much more noticeable. The entrance to the West Wing from the grand foyer is always guarded and behind is a much more private hallway with more guards at the end for extra security, and the only way to go upstairs is from the two staircases within the West Wing. The staircase you’re approaching now takes you downstairs where the kitchen is. 

As you approach the stairwell, you freeze, your eyes landing on a painting hung up on the wall at the far end of the hall. Yoongi says your name as you begin to walk towards it, but you don’t respond as an old memory suddenly returns to your mind, from the night your father was murdered.

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky.  In the centre, a spear of light struck the violent waves of the sea below. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

The painting is just as vivid as you remember, and seeing it now brings tears to your eyes as you feel a bout of nostalgia. 

“My dad painted this,” you say quietly as Yoongi joins you in front of the huge canvas. 

He doesn’t say anything, but instead looks up at the painting, admiring it in its entirety as though he’s never seen it before. “It’s beautiful.”

Nodding, you blink a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation in your eyes.. You realise now that Park Jihoon was the old friend your dad mentioned; realising he called him an ‘old friend’, you know your father must’ve known in those months leading up to his death that he couldn’t trust Han-jae and Jihoon.

Just then, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Reading a text, he quickly excuses himself. “Come down if you can, or I’ll ask someone to come up,” he calls out as he’s already walking off towards the stairwell.

“Okay,” you answer absentmindedly, still looking at the painting.

It’s not often you allow yourself to dwell on the past, but it’s also not often that you find yourself face to face with things that remind you so much of the past. There’s a reason your grandma decided to leave Seoul all those years ago and it’s a decision you agreed with. Even when you moved back to Seoul, you knew you couldn’t return to your old home, not when all you had there was fond memories of a life that was so unfamiliar to you now. But now, standing in front of your father’s own hand painted work, a flood of memories return and you find it harder to fight the lump that settles stubbornly in your throat.

You don’t realise you’re standing there for long until you hear someone approaching behind you. Turning around, you recognise the man approaching you as one of the ones who were with Jimin that night at your home. He smiles as he comes to a stop beside you.

“Admiring the art?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching his face – you didn’t realise then but now you see just how handsome he is, you feel like you can’t stop staring. 

He chuckles, glancing at the painting. “You know I was talking about the painting, not me?”

Shaking out of your daze, you smile. “Yes, sorry. I just recognised you from the other night.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry we had to meet in such a way,” he nods, still smiling. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin.” He extends his hand which you shake.

“Y/N, and it’s okay, not your fault.”

“How’s the wrist?” he asks, pointing to your wrist.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you answer, lifting your arm for him to see. You can still move your fingers fine, just the occasional stretch or twist of your wrist hurts. 

“Good. And the leg?”

“It’s mostly fine,” you nod.

He smiles again. “That’s good. Your wrist will heal fast, the leg might take a few weeks but it’s looking good so far. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon though,” he adds, raising a brow as though impressed.

You shrug.

 “I take it this isn’t your first time getting hurt like this?” Seokjin says casually.

 “What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t flinch that night, when we all aimed our guns at you. And the way you handled your own gun…” he shakes his head, smiling. “It definitely wasn’t your first time, and no normal person would point their gun at a mafioso at that.”

Chuckling, you turn back towards the painting again.  “I guess I like getting shot at.”

“Just like everyone else here,” he laughs. “Well, you must be hungry, Yoongi asked me to walk down with you.”

“Sure,” you nod, turning away from the painting. You can return to it later. “So what about you?” you ask Seokjin as you approach the stairwell. 

He watches carefully as you descend the first few steps. “What about me?” 

“This definitely isn’t your first time stitching someone up,” you remark. 

“Ah,” he nods. “Definitely not.”

You have to pause, reaching out for the banister to continue on. “So you’re a doctor?” 

He snorts, stepping along beside you. “No, but I should be. I’ve done this kind of stuff enough times.”

Smiling, you know his statement is true enough. Injuries like yours must be a regular occurrence in the Park household. Stepping onto the landing, you take a breather and sit on the bottom step for a moment before you continue on. At the same time, you hear hurried footsteps running towards you and Seokjin. 

“Jin hyung!” A bubbly voice sounds from down the corridor. You look towards the source and see two men who you recognise from that night – the man bun guy and the slender brown haired one behind him. They can’t see you sitting on the bottom step but as they get closer, Jin nods in your direction, turning their attention to you. 

They both smile warmly when they see you, bowing their heads. 

“Oh, miss L/N,” the first one comes forward, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.” He has an adorable bunny smile and you can’t help but return it with one of your own. 

“Nice to meet you Jungkook,” you reply, shaking his hand. “And you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N, got it,” he nods, taking a step back so his other friend can greet you properly. 

“Hi, Y/N,  I’m Hoseok, Hobi for short,” he grins, shaking your hand. 

“Hey.” You return his handshake, feeling slightly taken aback by how relaxed these guys are compared to their stoic looks from when you first saw them. Jungkook looks like a bunny rabbit in human form, and Hoseok beams like a ray of sunshine. 

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, motioning towards your leg. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you smile. “I can still walk at least.”

He smiles with you, helping you as you start to get up. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You hum in response, allowing Seokjin to continue walking beside you as Jungkook walks ahead, leading you to the extensive lounge. 

Distractedly, you look around the familiar room. The coffee table you’re sitting at is still the same as it was when you used to have extra helpings of dessert with Jimin, secretly given to you by the housemaid who had a soft spot for Jimin. Being here reminds you so much of your father too, and knowing how much of a huge part of his life this family was makes you miss him dearly. 

Before any of the guys notice you’re not tuned into the conversation, you return your attention to what they’re saying. It hasn’t escaped you that none of them have said anything about your identity, and you reckon it must be because Jimin hasn’t recognised you – if he did, surely he would’ve told these guys since they were there too. You’re not sure if they know anything at all about you – perhaps you should’ve asked Yoongi about that before you came down. 

Whether they know anything or not though, they keep the conversation away from anything that would involve you from sharing too much, and you realise now, how their warm smiles and easy conversation is a stark contrast to the tense memory you have of first meeting them the other day. However, there’s some missing.

“Are there more of you?” 

Jin, in the middle of swallowing a big sip of water, nods and hums. 

Hoseok answers for him. “There’s Yoongi, who you saw already, and Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin.”

“They were there the other day,” Jungkook says, his tone dimming slightly. 

“Namjoon and Taehyung will be joining us,” Jin adds, ignoring the last comment and keeping up his chipper attitude. “We always eat together whenever we can and they’re about somewhere.” 

It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t mention Jimin’s name though.

“Taehyung is probably in the wine cellar,” Hoseok says.

“Ah, yes, Taehyung loves to pick out the wine for dinner.”

Jungkook snorts. “He thinks he’s a sommelier.”

You smile. “Well, does he make a good choice?”

“I can never tell,” Jungkook shrugs.

Hoseok jerks a thumb in his direction. “He’s not matured enough.”

“Hey!” Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Jin, glancing toward the doorway.

“Ah, speak of the devil!” 

You look up and see two more men entering. One has dark curls and sharp features, his posture relaxed but his gaze calculating as it sweeps over the room. The other one has dark grey hair and broad shoulders, wearing glasses that give him a sophisticated air. You recognise both of them from the other day.

“Yoongi said you’d come down,” the man with dark curls remarks as he approaches. His tone is calm, and a slight smile plays on his lips. “I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but not overbearing. He’s undeniably striking, and there’s something about his presence that feels both inviting and enigmatic.

The broad man steps closer, adjusting his glasses as he nods at you. “I’m Namjoon. I handle most of the boring work around here.” His smile is disarming, and his voice carries a hint of dry humour. “Finances, logistics, making sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” you say, shaking his hand. His words make you curious about just how much he handles behind the scenes.

Namjoon takes a seat in the armchair across from you and sinks into it comfortably. “How are you? I imagine this isn’t how you thought your day would go.”

You smile wryly, keeping your responses guarded. “Not exactly, no.”

Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook and returns his attention to you immediately. “Yeah, you put up quite the fight. Most people would’ve frozen in your position.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to defend myself,” you reply simply, not offering much else.

There’s a beat of silence as they all exchange glances, clearly intrigued but not pressing further. You appreciate the lack of prying.

“So,” Hoseok pipes up with an ever-cheerful tone. “Yoongi mentioned you might like spicy food. We had the chef prepare something special just in case.”

“Spicy works for me,” you say, grateful for the change in subject.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Great! That makes two of us. The food here is amazing – you’ll love it.”

As the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you glance around the room again. The faces around the table are new, but the setting is steeped in nostalgia. Flashes of your childhood in this house flit through your mind – running down these halls, playing games late into the night, and the quiet presence of your father when he was here.

You force yourself to focus, tuning back into the conversation just as Seokjin asks, “So, Y/N, what’s your impression of the estate so far?”

“It’s... different,” you reply honestly, but keep your tone light. “Bigger than I remember.”

Seokjin tilts his head. “You’ve been here before?”

You curse yourself for slipping up but recover quickly. “Not this one exactly. Just a similar setup.”

Namjoon raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, and you’re thankful for the reprieve.

The door from the far end of the room opens, and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist steps in, carrying a pitcher of water. Her hair is neatly pinned back, and her face is composed but kind. You immediately recognize her – Ara, one of the housemaids from your childhood.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flickers in her expression. She knows who you are. You’re certain of it. But to your surprise, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she places the pitcher on the coffee table and begins pouring water into the glasses.

“Thanks, Ara,” Jungkook says warmly, and she nods with a small smile.

When she reaches you, she hesitates ever so slightly before pouring the water, her gaze lingering on you. You hold her gaze for a beat, searching her face for any sign that she might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she finishes and steps back, her expression carefully neutral.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ara says softly, glancing at the rest of the table before leaving the room.

Namjoon watches her leave, then turns back to you with a faint smile. “She’s been here for a long time. Reliable, like everyone else here.”

You nod, trying to mask the unease and nostalgia that her presence has stirred up.

On the opposite side of the room, Yoongi comes in from the corridor you came through. With a smile at you, he then nods at everyone. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before Jungkook inhales the entire table.”

Jungkook laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. Everyone rises from their seats, and Yoongi gestures for you to follow them to the adjoining dining room.

"Taeheyung, did you choose a bottle for dinner then?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course. It’s spicy food so I brought up a Riesling."

"Nice one," Yoongi murmurs in approval.

"I want a beer," Jungkook says, with no regards to Taehyung's expression.

"More for us then."

As you walk, Namjoon falls into step beside you. “You’ll find this place can be both a refuge and a maze,” he says softly. “It’s easy to get lost, but it has its charms.”

You glance at him, wondering if there’s a deeper meaning to his words. “I’ll try not to get lost, then.”

He smiles faintly. “If you do, just call out. Someone will find you.”

Returning the smile, you find that any uneasiness you'd been feeling, begins to dissipate. It’s clear these men, while different in personality, share a bond that goes beyond mere loyalty to Jimin. You can see why they’ve been by his side for so long – they feel like a family in their own right.

Once everyone is seated at the table, conversation flows more freely and the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. Jin sits at one end of the table, serving himself a generous helping of the roasted chicken and rice dish.

“Jin-hyung, don’t hog all the drumsticks,” Jungkook whines as he watches Jin’s plate pile up.

“Then grab faster,” Jin quips with a smirk, not slowing his pace.

Taehyung leans back with an amused grin, observing the chaos. “I’m telling you, Jungkook, he does this every time. You should know better by now.”

“Should I?” Jungkook huffs dramatically. “Maybe next time I’ll just take the whole plate first.”

“Do it, and I’ll poison your portion,” Jin deadpans, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Hoseok chuckles as he passes you the salad bowl. “Don’t worry, Y/N. They act like this every meal. You get used to it.”

You smile faintly, watching them banter. It’s strange to see these men, who just days ago were all sharp glares and deadly precision, behaving like siblings teasing each other.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Do you always eat so quietly? Or are you just plotting something?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. His face is serious, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

“Maybe I’m just afraid to get between Jin and his drumsticks,” you reply lightly.

Laughter ripples around the table, and Taehyung raises his glass in salute. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook grins at you between bites of food. “Yeah, but next time, you should at least try to grab a piece before Jin wipes out the whole plate.”

“I heard that,” Jin retorts, mock-offended. “I’m ensuring quality control.”

“You’re ensuring there’s nothing left for the rest of us,” Hoseok counters, sipping his water.

As the banter continues, you allow yourself to relax a little. It’s a stark contrast to what you expected when you first woke up in the Park estate. 

“By the way, hyung,” Namjoon says, turning to Jin. “Have you checked the medical inventory reports? They were due yesterday.”

“Oh, are we doing shop talk at the table now?” Jin sighs dramatically. “Can’t a guy just eat in peace?”

“It’s your own fault for procrastinating,” Namjoon replies smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

“Don’t drag me into your world of schedules,” Jin retorts. “I’m a free spirit.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jungkook interjects, earning a flick of a bread roll from Jin.

“Enough guys,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in mock exasperation.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes on the table, followed immediately by Hoseok’s. They both glance at their screens, and their smiles fade slightly. Exchanging a look, they nod in unison before standing up.

“Sorry, something’s come up,” Namjoon says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Don’t eat all the dessert without us,” Hoseok adds with a wink as they head out.

“Like we’d wait for you,” Jin calls after them before turning his attention back to the table.

“Do they always leave like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Pretty much,” Taehyung replies, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve got the busiest jobs out of all of us. It’s a miracle they even sit down for meals sometimes.”

“Or they just like to be mysterious,” Jin adds, rolling his eyes. “Half the time, it’s probably nothing.”

You smile, but you feel the weight behind it all. These men might act carefree, but there’s no denying the underlying layers to their lives.

After a while, another two housemaids quietly enter to clear some of the empty dishes.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks, drawing your attention back to the table. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You nod, brushing it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Jin says, rising from his seat. “You should rest. Recovering from an injury takes time.”

The others murmur in agreement as they begin to disperse, leaving you with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The warmth of their camaraderie is undeniable, but beneath it all, you can’t shake the feeling of what’s happened, and what is undoubtedly yet to come. 

Only Yoongi remains at the table. He sits across from you and smiles. “It’s bringing back memories, huh?” He asks, seeing right through you. 

“Yep.” You look around. “Loads. I don’t know how this might sound, but it feels like I missed it.” You look across at Yoongi, expecting to see a puzzled expression but he just smiles.

“I think it’s normal. You were young when you came here and I don’t think you have many bad memories associated with the place. Only good ones, right?”

He’s right. Back then, coming here usually meant evenings filled with laughter, hiding in closets with Jimin, and Jiyoung’s occasional teasing if she was here. Your dad was still alive, and this house, in a strange way, felt like an extension of home. Now, it’s like walking through a memory you can’t decide if you’re grateful for or aching to forget.

You smile softly at Yoongi and nod, letting the silence stretch as you stand. He doesn’t press you further, only watching as you cross the room to the wide, cushioned window seat at the far end. The large pane of glass offered a view of the front of the house. Settling into the seat, you lean against the frame, your gaze drifting outward.

Outside, the estate is alive with movement. Men are stationed around the house, their presence a constant reminder of the life you’re now steeped in. From the East Wing, you spot four men climbing into a sleek black Escalade. Then your attention shifts to the house’s front steps, where Namjoon and Hoseok emerge, walking with purpose.

Behind them, another figure appears and you recognise him instantly. 

Jimin, dressed sharply from head to toe, walks across the front drive. He pauses briefly in front of his Porsche, glancing back toward Hoseok, who says something you couldn’t hear. A moment later, Hoseok and Jin climb into the car, and Jimin gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars softly to life, and within moments, his Porsche is gliding down the private lane, the Escalade following closely behind.

Your gaze lingers on the lane until the cars disappear into the distance. Though you can’t see the estate’s gate from here, you can picture it clearly in your mind – a familiar marker from years ago.

“Where are they going?” you ask without turning, your voice quiet but curious.

“Something’s wrong with one of the shipments we received from the Takahashis. They’ve been a bit of a pain these past few months. Jimin reckons they’re now involved with the Lees and are trying to keep us distracted.”

You hum in response, saying nothing more, but your eyes stay fixed on the far-off trees that bordered the estate. Centred in front of the west wing, a fountain catches your attention, its centrepiece intricate and elegant. It reminds you of the one in Jimin’s mother’s garden and absently, you wonder if that fountain was still there.

As you shift, a sharp pang shoots through your leg, where the knife wound throbs dully. Your wrist isn’t much better, but the pain in your leg is what makes you wince audibly.

Yoongi notices immediately, his gaze darting toward you. “I think you’re due for your meds again.”

You exhale softly, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You wanna stay here or go back up?”

You push yourself to stand, biting back a groan as the strain makes your voice tight. “Mm, I know I slept for days, but I’m actually still exhausted.”

Yoongi chuckles, rising to help steady you. “That’s to be expected. Don’t worry.” He gestures toward the far end of the room. “We’ll go up, but this time we’re taking the lift.”

You can’t help but smile faintly at his consideration. “Appreciate that,” you murmur as he slides a steadying arm under yours.

The dim light of the ensuite glows behind you as you step into the bedroom, a towel draped over your head. You had just woken up after another long nap, your internal clock utterly thrown off by the days of rest. It's late now, just past midnight and the night is quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the soft padding of your feet on the carpet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you absentmindedly rub the towel through your damp hair.

Your gaze drifts to the shelves by the dresser table, now stocked with an array of skin and hair care products. A small smile tugs at your lips as you stand to examine them, fingers lightly trailing over the meticulously arranged items. Appreciatively, you sit and carry out a full skin and hair care routine – after three days without it, you definitely need it. You wonder if it was Ara who must have put them here. You're certain she recognised you at dinner and when you think about it now, you think it would be nice to speak with someone familiar.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the bed. Turning, you see the screen light up with an incoming FaceTime call. The name on the screen sends a swell of emotion through you.

“Moni?” you answer, settling back on the bed as your grandmother’s face appeared.

The sight of her brings a pang of guilt and relief all at once. Her tired eyes search your face and you can tell she must have been worrying nonstop. “Y/N,” she says softly, her voice warm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her quickly, though your heart aches knowing she must have been so anxious. “Really.”

She gives you a sharp look, the kind only she can manage, and her tone turns brisk. “Good. Stay safe there, you hear me? We're figuring out what's going on and Yoongi will tell you more when he can."

You nod, knowing better than to argue. Her expression softened just a little as she continued. “Tell me about Jimin.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“About recognizing you?” she asks, her brow lifting slightly.

You nod. “Nothing.”

She sighs, a mixture of fondness and exasperation crossing her features. “I don’t imagine he would. But I have no doubt he does. You haven’t changed much. He, however... he’s different.”

Her words hang in the air, and you find yourself looking up, your thoughts turning to Jimin.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him,” she continues, her voice tinged with melancholy. “When I last saw him, I didn’t see the same little boy I knew.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips. “Life hasn’t been kind to any of us.”

Your grandmother purses her lips, acknowledging the truth of your words. “Do you remember his father?”

“Of course I do,” you say without hesitation. “It’s hard to forget a man as cold as him.”

“And Mr. Lee?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You nod, already anticipating where this was headed. “I know, Moni,” you say quietly, cutting her off.

She looks up at you, her expression briefly surprised, but it fades just as quickly. "Of course, I should have expected you would piece it together."

“I know it was them,” you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They did it. They killed Dad.”

She lets out a slow breath, her gaze steady on yours. “They were his best friends,” she says softly. “And then, all of a sudden…” She trails off.

You nod. You can only imagine that the sting of betrayal is still fresh even after all these years. Your grandmother's gaze remains on you, sharp and searching. “You’re there now, though… so, do you trust Jimin?”

You pause, memories of the night at your house flashing through your mind -- seeing Jimin in your kitchen with your gun aimed at him and he didn't retaliate in the slightest.

“I didn’t, at first,” you admit. “But I think I do. Besides, I trust Yoongi, and Yoongi trusts him."

She exhales slowly, relief evident on her face and a small smilw touches her lips. “You’re safe there, Y/N.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze. “You trust Jimin?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation. “I trust him with you, and you’re my everything.”

The words wrap around your heart, and you wish you could reach through the screen to hug her. Instead, you nod and smile.

“You need to rest,” she instructs, her tone turning firm again. “I’ll call you later. Baek-hyun and I might come to see you. I think he wanted to see Yoongi too.”

Your lips quirk up at the thought. “That would be nice.”

"Good," she nods, and you eventually exchange goodbyes.

As the screen goes dark, you set the phone down, feeling a renewed sense of comfort. The thought of her visiting makes you smile softly as you sit in the quiet of the room.

Still restless though, you wander to the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds bathed in the moonlight. You spot three men stationed at the back of the house, conversing together as they keep watch. The gardens stretch endlessly, just as you remembered. You can’t see the part of the grounds where Jimin’s mother’s garden would have been as it's hidden beyond the trees, but it would be nice to visit it tomorrow when the light returned.

As you shift, you feel your leg still aches, but it's different this time, more like the dull stiffness of inactivity than pain. Restless energy courses through you, and you decide a walk would do you good. The house is big enough and you need to keep your legs moving.

Stepping out of your room, you close the door quietly behind yourself and hear the faint hum of distant voices and sounds that tells you that not everyone is asleep yet.

As you move through the corridors, memories of Jimin filtered into your mind -- moments you hadn’t thought of in years now rising to the surface with startling clarity and they give you a strange sense of familiarity.

Eventually, your wandering brings you to your dad's painting again. You stop in front of it, the vivid strokes of lightning and sea send a wave of nostalgia over you, gratitude mingling with sadness. You remember you have a few of your father's paintings hanging up at home too and you make a mental note to ensure they're safely retrieved.

“Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

The voice, familiar and gentle, pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Jimin standing a few feet away.

Dressed casually now, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, he looks markedly different from the composed figure you saw earlier. There’s a softness to him now, something that reminds you of the boy you once knew. His smile, small and tentative, feels as though it might disappear if the silence breaks too loudly.

You smile back, and the corners of his lips lift a little more.

Realising what he just said, his words stop you short – it’s the name of the book you gave to him the first time you met him, so many years ago.

Jimin steps closer, the lamp’s dim light casting soft shadows on his features. As he nears, the subtle scent of his cologne reaches you – a delicate blend of cedarwood and something faintly sweet, familiar yet grounding. It lingers in the air between you, quietly drawing your attention to his presence. Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there’s a steadiness about him, a calmness that feels both reassuring and disarming.

“Y/N,” he says, your name leaving his lips quietly, as though testing how it feels after all these years. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?”

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you admit, your voice soft. “I’m surprised you remember the book.”

Jimin’s smile grows, faint but genuine. “How could I not? I never got to thank you for it properly.”

“Thank me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He nods, shifting as if the memory is a tender one. “It was a comfort to me for a long time. I wasn’t allowed picture books of my own, so… thank you.”

You remember then how he once told you about his father’s strict rules. A cold man, his father likely saw no value in picture books – if they didn’t teach something useful, they weren’t worth having.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly.

Jimin’s gaze lingers on your face, and you feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. Turning back to the painting, you focus on the familiar strokes of your father’s work.

“He was talented,” Jimin says quietly, standing beside you.

You smile faintly. “He was.”

After a moment, he adds, “I can have it moved to your room, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. This is where it belongs.”

Jimin laughs softly, the sound low and soothing. “It’s actually covering up a stain we couldn’t remove. You might remember it since it was you who put it there.”

“Me?” you ask, eyebrows rising in surprise as you look at him.

He nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. One of the nights our fathers were away, and you had to stay over. Jiyoung was babysitting us, and we were painting. When it was time for bed, you didn’t want to sleep, so you ran away from her – with all the paints.”

As he speaks, the memory surfaces, vivid and sheepishly embarrassing. “Oh gosh, I remember. I tripped, and the paint went everywhere.”

Jimin smiles wider now, clearly suppressing a laugh. “We tried to paint over it a few times, but the colours were too bright. Eventually, my dad decided to put this up.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, though you still feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe that’s still here.”

Jimin’s smile lingers, and the space between you feels quieter, weighted by an unspoken familiarity. His eyes flicker back to the painting, then to you. “It’s been a long time since then,” he says, his voice gentle, almost reflective.

You glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his tone, something deeper beneath the surface. “Yes,” you reply, turning your gaze back to the painting. “Though being here again… it almost feels like no time at all.”

Jimin studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “I imagine it feels different,” he says, “without your father?”

“Exactly,” you answer, the memory stirring a pang of longing. “It felt safe wherever he was.”

“And now?” His question is soft, careful, as though he’s weighing each word before speaking.

You hesitate before answering, meeting his gaze. “I want to say yes,” you admit honestly, “but experience tells me not to feel safe anywhere.”

Jimin nods, his expression contemplative, and something about his calm presence makes your honesty feel less vulnerable. “You’ve learned not to trust anyone,” he say, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.

You look at him, searching his face, but his steady gaze gives nothing away except an openness that feels disarming. “You’re right to think that,” he continues, his tone neither judgmental nor apologetic, as if he understands the walls you’ve built all too well.

The words sit between you for a moment before you ask, carefully, “Can I trust you?”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, silence fills the space between you.

“Yes,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. “But you’ll make that decision on your own.”

You nod slowly, his answer settling something inside you. There’s no urgency in his response, just a quiet assurance that feels like a small but solid anchor. It’s not a promise – it’s an invitation.

“Until then,” he continues, his voice softening, “please, make yourself at home. You’re safe here.”

The sincerity in his words lingers, and while they aren’t a guarantee, they feel real.

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, but you catch the way he watches you, something unspoken but soft in his expression. You feel it yourself too – after so many years there is so much to say, to ask, but for now you take the peaceful quiet for what it is.

His presence feels closer now and you let out a faint smile, glancing back at the painting.

It occurs to you now, how strange it is, that this time, there is something familiar that Jimin’s presence stirs in you – a reminder of what it feels like to trust, even if only a little.

note. thank you all so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader :’) this fic takes me forever to write and I’d love for you to share your thoughts w me -- i really wanna know what you guys think! and rb toooo <3333

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warning with some notes: Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N; Dom/Sub dynamics, SMUT, steddie get intimate, degrading (little boy, slut, etc), light choking and spanking, dirty talk, FLUFF, Y/N talks about Olivia.

ANGST *breathes it in like coffee*, Starts where the last chapter ended, father threatens all three, reader is smacked and threatened to never see them again, mentions of an arranged marriage, boys touch on their lives in prison and how they cope, some toxic behavior from the boys in regards to keeping the reader safe, guys are hurt and blood is mentioned, mentions of a rough birth but no real details are given (they're both fine <3), SLIGHT cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 5474

Series here/Donate to me <3

“Here’s what’s going to happen.”, your father commands as he continues to glare their way. “You will stop speaking and all communications end today. If I catch even a single letter being sent her way, I will make you regret it. Am I being clear, boys?”

“We love her.”, Eddie answered causing your dad to roll his eyes as he rose to his feet.

“It seems what I’m saying isn’t sinking in.” Grabbing the metalhead’s hair, he roughly pressed his face down into the steel table making him grunt in pain as Steve pulled at his handcuffs to try and help to no avail. “All of that ends today. You will never see my daughter again or that baby. It’s my job to protect her and I’m not going to let you murder her like you did those other kids.”

“Dad, please.”, you beg. “I love them to.”

Your dad snickers slightly as he lets Eddie go before leaning against the wall and folding his arms. 

“Say your goodbyes now and just so you know she will be taken care of. Derek and I talked about it and after HIS baby is born, they will both get married and live happily ever after. Amen.”

Their eyes flick to you as the tears begin to flow again and you reach for their hands.

“I didn’t agree to that, I fucking swear. I love you both so much and I’ll always be here. I promise—” Tugging at your bicep, your father lifts you from your seat as you continue to try and cling to them. “NO! Dad, please! DON’T DO THIS!”

Guards come in to uncuff the boys as your dragged out of the room and into the hallway. Hearing your screams and pleading, awakes something primal in them both and all they can think about is getting to you. 

Steve elbows a guard in the face and shoves another out of the way as he runs down the hall but before he can reach you is tackled to the ground followed by Eddie who only got as far as outside the doorway. Feeling the same, you hit your dad’s chest hard enough for him to release you and you slide to the floor to be by their side. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Using all of his strength, one of Steve’s arms was freed and he reached out to pinch your cheeks, bringing your lips to his. 

“This isn’t over, honey. I promise. We’ll get to you.”

Eddie was able to wiggle out of the officers hold enough to wrap his arm around your neck and kiss your lips as well. 

“We love you, baby. Everything’s going to be ok.”

You began to sob harder when they were hit with something hard as you were lifted off the ground and carried out to your dad’s car. 

***

 As your father begins to drive away, you scream and kick at things in his truck until he pulls over to the side of the road. 

“Calm down right now and you listen to me, Y/N! I will not be the fucking embarrassment of this town. Do you fucking hear me?”

“You already crossed that bridge when you cheated on mom with the town slut in the back of your cruiser. I guess fucking criminals runs in the family.”, you spit. 

The sound of his palm hitting your cheek and your gasp that followed silenced you as you glared past him out the driver’s side window. 

“Listen to me and you listen good. You will stay away from those men or so help me God, Y/N, I will make sure they stay in there for the rest of their Goddamn lives. Do I make myself clear?” When you don’t answer he shouts, making you jump as he repeats his question. 

“Yes, sir.”, you grumble through gritted teeth. 

“You will marry Derek before the baby is born and then we will go back to all our normal routines like one big happy family.”

Folding your arms, you turn to lay your head against the glass as you continue to cry. 

####################

June 3rd, 1998

Steve’s nose scrunches in anger as he punches the boxing bag they keep in the gym of the prison. As he glances towards his friend, Eddie’s eyebrows raise in amusement. 

“Fuck off, Munson. Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not looking at you in anyway, Harrington. I’m just…a little worried.”

“I know but what can we do trapped behind this fucking concrete wall.”, he grunts as he continues punching. 

“I meant I’m worried about you.”

Steve’s chest puffs out as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, ignoring his friend as he continues what he was doing. Abruptly, the metalhead takes hold of his arm and pulls him into the bathroom nearby. 

“You have to calm down.”, Eddie scolds.

“How the fuck can I be calm! It’s been a month with no word. No phone calls, letters, nothing. What if something happens to her or Olivia?!”

It was an automatic reaction, something both of them had done a few times over the years and more to calm the other. Taking ahold of Steve’s cheeks Eddie crashed his lips to his own, his fingers tangling in his hair before both men are panting as they rest their forehead against each other’s. 

“You think this doesn’t kill me to? But what can we do, Steve? We don’t have enough money to buy another night out.”

“We have enough to get to Canada.”

The metalhead’s eyes widen as he searches through his friends to see if he’s serious. 

“I thought we wanted to do this right? What life would she have?”, he whispers.

“What life would she have married to fucking Derek with her dad breathing down her neck?”

“Steve…I don’t know...”

“Munson! Harrington! Your lawyer is here to see you.”, a guard called sharply making them jump before quickly exiting the room. 

***

“Um, Bobby, where are we going?”, Eddie asks as they pass the interrogation rooms they usually meet with their lawyer in. 

The guard doesn’t say a word as he continues to lead them further down the hall and outside to a separate building they had never been to before. Both men brace, preparing for anything especially after the last few months they had before the man stops just outside of a cellblock door. 

It looked like every other one except this one had no window so people could peak in. 

“You have three hours to go over your case and anything else you may need.”, Bobby relays, looking around as he leans in to unhook their cuffs. “I told you guys I’m on your side. Three hours. Not one second longer.”

Their eyebrows furrowed as he opened the door but all confusion and worry evaporated when their eyes landed on you. 

Before you could say anything, you started to sob as you ran forward with Steve meeting you halfway as your arms wrapped around him. 

“I don’t…how…how are you here right now?”

“I had to come make sure you were ok.”, you hiccupped as you hugged Eddie next. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to you but my dad’s been a tyrant.”

Tilting you head back, the metalhead cupped your face as his thumbs tried to dry your eyes.

“He threatened to hurt you or keep you both in here longer and I was so scared.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that now. As long as nobody’s hurting you.” Ignoring him, you took hold of his thumb to bend his hand so you can place tender kisses on his palm. “Nobody’s hurting you right?”

Again, you didn’t answer and this time Steve intervened as he lightly but firmly gripped your jaw making you sigh.

“After we left you, my dad got mad when I told him he couldn’t stop me from loving you. Since then, his friends have been keeping an eye on me. Following me to school or back to my house. When I do my homework, sometimes they’ll show up to dig through my work to make sure I’m not writing you.”, you explain as you wipe your eyes and back away towards the bed. 

“My mom came down and tried to intervene but that didn’t go well. They fought and she couldn’t take it anymore so she went home. She offered to take me with her but I told her I couldn’t leave you.”

“Have you lost your mind?”, Steve scolded in a firm tone that had you sitting up straighter. “Take her offer and get out of here. You’d be safer and happier with her!”

Your anger fueled eyes glare his way. 

“I would NOT be happier. I would be just as miserable if not more because you wouldn’t be there!”

“We still won’t be there, sweetheart.”, Eddie sighs as he sits beside you and rubs your back. “We still have another 13years here but at least with your mom you could call and write.”

“No…no. Everyone else has abandoned you but I won’t.”, you declare making them swoon as he leans over kiss your cheek and Steve kneels in front of you taking your hands. 

When he rests his head against your stomach, he feels a little push causing him to jerk back as you giggle. 

“Yeah, she moves quite a bit now.” Taking both their hands, you place them where you felt her move and on cue she kicks her little feet against them. 

“Wow…”, Eddie breathes as his thumb rubs your skin. “Probably has a lot to say about all this. Don’t you, princess?”

Reaching into your bag, you hand them your new ultrasound and a big grin spreads across their faces as they take her in. 

“You see she has her little nose and these cute tiny hands.”, you beam as you point to things on the image. “Your, um, your uncle gave me a cassette of your band playing songs and Olivia just loves it. She wiggles around.”

The metalhead softly smiles your way before you both watch him stand and face the wall away from you. 

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I just need a minute.”, he chokes out causing you to rise and wrap your arms around him as you lean your head on his back. “I hate all this bullshit. We shouldn’t even be here! We did nothing wrong!”

You squeezed him tighter wishing you could take away his pain. This was the first time you were seeing this type of break but for Steve it was nothing new. They could hold things in pretty well until they couldn’t and that animosity would spill out, sometimes aggressively. 

“How can I help?”, you whisper.

“You can’t, Y/N. Not in your condition.”

“I’m pregnant, Steve, not broken.”, you giggle making both him chuckle with you. 

“Naw, baby girl, we know but sometimes in here our outlet is a bit different than what we did with you out there.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re a smart girl. Do you really need it spelled out?!”, Eddie snapped startling you as you let him go.

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could feel the other man’s practically boring into your skull as they waited for you to get to the realization on your own. 

“Oh.”, you squeaked in a little voice that had their heads tilting. “Is it…do you like it? I mean is it consensual?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question.”

“Hey.”, Steve growled towards his friend who exhaled through his nose as he looked away. “Yes, it’s consensual. We would never do anything to genuinely hurt the other. Like with you we have safe words and everything.”

“Is it intimacy or survival?”, you murmur, your tone getting smaller and smaller; you were dropping. 

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?! So you can decide if you still love us or not?!”

The other man rose to his feet and suddenly took hold of Eddie’s throat. 

“Don’t talk to her that way. She’s trying to understand. Right, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you either way. I just want to know more. You never made any indication that—”

“We didn’t know if we could trust you.”, Steve responded before Eddie could. “It started as survival…needing someone to hold in the middle of the night when the lights go out. Needing to feel safe in a place that’s anything but. You touch yourself needing that release but after a while you want…NEED more.”

“People would make it into something it’s not.”, Eddie added. “Something dirty like the only reason we do this is because we’re in prison. It may be the reason it started but… us being rough with each other… it’s hard to explain and to be honest I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to.”, you coo as you press up to kiss his lips. “Do you want me to give you some alone time? If this is between you two I don’t want to intrude.”

The metalhead’s hair lightly swats at his face as he shakes his head. 

“What do you need from me, Sir?”

“I want you to watch.”

Nodding, you kiss him again before turning to do the same with Steve and waddling to a chair next to the bed. After smiling comfortingly your way, he turns his body to face his friend. 

“Soft, rough or rough, rough?” 

“Both, I think.”

“Ok, baby. Use me.”, the pretty boy smirks as he sarcastically takes a bow with his arms wide open. 

Gripping his cheeks, Eddie crashes their lips together and a little sigh leaves your own as you watch them mingle together. When Steve’s arms came back down, they wrapped around the other boy’s waist, lifting him off his feet to walk with him towards the bed. After pushing the metalhead onto the mattress, Steve yanks off the man’s sweats and underwear before taking his cock in his hand and taking him into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Steven.”, Eddie groaned as he moved the boy’s hair away from his face to watch him. “All the way down. I know you can fuckin’ take it.”

At the sound of his light gags, the metalhead tightened his grip in his soft locks and guided his head lower to take him deeper. 

“That’s it. Choke on it. Choke on my dick, dirty boy.” Chocolate eyes flick to you as he notices you squirm in your seat and place your hands between your legs hoping to ease the ache. “You like this, Y/N? Watching him struggle to take all of me down his tight little throat?”

“Y-Yes, Sir. Does he feel good?”

“Jesus, you’re asking a lot of stupid fucking questions today. You’ve felt his mouth, you know how amazing it is.”

“I…I didn’t.” Eddie blinks as he tugs on Steve’s head, allowing him to catch his breath. “I only felt your tongue that night.”

“We’re going to correct that right now. Come here, baby.” With his arm steadying you behind your back, you removed your pants and kicked them to the side. “Go ahead and rest your back against the pillows.”, he instructed and you followed as you watched him pull Steve to his feet to undress him. 

Falling onto the mattress, Steve slithered on his stomach between your legs and his palms gripped your thighs. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.”, the man whimpered breathily as he pressed his nose to the cloth against your core. “Tell us if you need stop at any point, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

Moving your panties to the side, his tongue pressed against your clit and a cry caught in your throat as the width of it seemed to envelope you.

“Oh my g—“, you moan as he licked between your folds in long, slow strokes that had your eyes roll shut as your fingers run through his hair much softer than the other man’s. Steve hums against you and the vibration has your eyes searching for the cause, landing on Eddie pushing two of his digits inside of the boy in front of him. 

“I told you, sweetheart. His mouth is fucking heaven especially in this hell.” When Eddie grumbles his last sentence, his hand comes down hard on Steve’s ass making him grunt and flick his tongue faster against your nub.  “Come on, dirty boy. Make our girl cum. Make her cum so I can fuck you like the slut you are.”

His fingers dug into your skin as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room till you shuddered and came against his tongue. Eddie spanked him again as Steve pushed up onto one of his palms while his other rested above your mound as his thumb rubbed slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes continuously took in the little features on his face as the metalhead spit directly into his hole and gradually slid his cock into his entrance. Steve licked his lips as his head fell but you quickly grabbed his chin to lift it back up. 

“You…you look so handsome like this, Daddy.”

“Fuck.”, he mewled as Eddie took hold of his waist and thrust his hips. 

He seemed almost lost in what he was doing as he roughly pounded into him with each grunt that fell from the pretty boy’s mouth bordering the line between pleasure and pain with your gentle caresses a stark contrast. 

In the middle of everything, Steve’s eyes abruptly snapped open and you saw that primal look you had seen in them both when your dad was pulling you away from them. Gripping your thighs again, he pushed them open flat against the bed and lobbed a huge glob of spit into your cunt before pumping two of his long, thick fingers inside of you. 

Your own eyes closed until you gasped at the feeling of a tongue against your clit immediately recognizing it wasn’t Steve but Eddie. Laying his chest onto the man’s back, he leaned his head against his shoulder as his mouth played with you.

“Fuck…I’ll never get over how…sweet she is. Don’t…Don’t stop fingering her, Steven! Or I swear to God.”, the metalhead growled through gritted teeth. “Make her cum again, little boy. That’s it…thrust those fingers so fucking deep. Shit—you’re just as tight as her.”

“More.”, you begged and Eddie obliged as he fell into you again to flick your nub with his tongue as he rolled his cock into the man beneath him. “I’m…”

As the ball dropped and they helped you through your orgasm, Steve offered his digits to his friend who eagerly licked them clean. Pushing back onto his knees, he chased their highs as you limply slid your body under the pretty boy and he rested his face in the nook of your neck. 

“How does he feel, Daddy?”

“Mmph—good.” Your lips delicately kissed his until you felt his face scrunch as his sweaty forehead fell against your skin. “Fuck, baby.”

At his shaky breath, one of his hands reached down to stroke his cock till you felt his release land on your thigh. Eddie’s palm took hold of the man’s throat as he pulled him closer to his chest and kissed him much softer than he had been. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much…for everything…sweetheart. Mmugh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve nodded and as he clung his arms around him, the metalhead grunted as he pounded his release into the boy beneath him. 

Their heavy pants filled the room as they stayed like that and you waited patiently for them to collect their bearings. 

Steve was the one to move first, crawling forward, and collecting you in his arms as his head hit the pillow. Eddie silently went to work cleaning his friend and then you before laying down in front of you so he could take your hand in his. 

“Thank you for trusting me enough to show me that. If you ever want to be intimate in front of me or without me…I don’t mind.”

The metalhead’s palm gently pets your head as he leans forward to kiss your forehead. When your eyes meet his, you notice a deep pain within them that breaks your heart. 

“We don’t really think too much about it but I do know that when I hear him cry at night I feel so helpless. When I hold him and kiss him, it makes me feel safe to. Like I have some control, you know?”

“Have you considered thinking about it?”

The metalhead knew what you meant, nodding as his fingers caressed your cheek. 

“We can’t in here. People exploit that.”

“Do they exploit that when it comes to me?”

“No…probably because they know we would fucking kill anyone that came after you or hurt you.”

His beautiful eyes darkened and Steve pushes up on his elbow to glance over your face. 

“Anyone?”

“Anyone, sweetheart. Any convict. Any Ex. Any…tyrant.”

You should be afraid…but you’re not.

You should be disgusted that they would kill someone for you…but you weren’t. 

You should hate men like them…but you didn’t.

Shaking your head, you curl yourself closer into the Steve’s chest as your arms reached for Eddie who scooted as close to your body as he could. 

“We’d never hurt you, Y/N. I hope you know that.”, the pretty boy whispered as he kissed your shoulder. 

“Or anyone else, unless you felt unsafe or in danger.”

A light knock doesn’t stir any of you as you continue to stare into those chocolate eyes in front of you. 

“Do you feel unsafe?”

“15 more minutes, guys.”, the guard informed you without opening the door. 

“No, Sir.”

“Do you trust us to protect you if you were in danger?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

It takes a couple more moments but when their eyes do finally soften, they lean in to hug you tightly and kiss your lips. 

##########################

June 14th, 1998

“Munson! Harrington! Ya’ll have a visitor!”

Both men exchange a glance as they stand up from their beds and allow the guard to lead them towards the integration rooms. 

“She wouldn’t come this soon right?”, Steve whispered. 

“I don’t think so.”

The person leading them tugged their chain, signaling them to be quiet before heading outside to where they had yard time during the afternoons. Right now, it was pitch black as they had begun getting ready for bed for the evening but they didn’t think anything out of the ordinary until they were pulled into the weight room and were met with a couple of fists to their faces. 

“You know, you both are stubborn just like Y/N.”, your dad sasses as he stands up from the bench he had been waiting on. “I see why she likes you.”

A few of the guards pull both boys up to their knees and turn them to face him. 

“She’s not as crafty as she thinks she is. She did slip away for a while but one of my officers did catch her leaving this facility so—”

“If you hurt her—” Another fist interrupts, Eddie as he grunts and spits blood onto the floor. 

“Who let her in? Which guard is it?”

The fuck you that Steve answers with didn’t help the situation as he was kicked in the stomach hard and toppled over. 

“You know, she may hate me but one day she will thank me. She may think you’re innocent but I’ve seen what you did; the pain you inflicted on those people. I will not let my daughter die because of some stupid crush.”

“So you’d force her to be with someone she doesn’t like?”, the metalhead growled before being hit again. 

“If it keeps her alive and me respected than yes.”

A snarky, deep laugh left Steve’s lips as his head tilted back to stare at your father.

“That’s what it really is, isn’t it? You don’t give a fuck about her. All that matters is image and how you look. Oh, I know all about that being a Harrington.”

Your dad stepped forward and reached out to pull the man’s hair causing him to wince slightly as his jaw clenched. 

“There he is. I was wondering when I’d meet the serial killers and not the ‘poor me’ image you display for the world. Has Y/N seen this side of you yet?”

“Outside or in the bedroom?”

Steve was punched much harder than before making Eddie snicker hoping to distract them.

“She hasn’t and she never will until you give us a reason to.”

“Don’t you mean unless?”

“That’s up to you.”

A little hm noise left your dad’s mouth as he smiled and stepped away. 

“Y/N had her baby a couple of days ago.” Both their eyes snapped his way as his grin grew. “She named her Olivia Y/L/N. She wanted to give her your last names but I forbade it. I was going to put Derek’s last name but…I figured I’d give her this especially after the birth.”

“Are they ok—ugh!”

“Oh, Mr. Munson, what happened? Not so sarcastic now are we? Here’s what’s going to happen. Since my daughter disobeyed, you will be punished. I’m thinking for Mr. Munson here, Indianapolis. That’s where your father is right? And Mr. Harrington how about Washington? I think that’s far enough away.”

At the sound of both men’s shouts his way, your father smirked as he headed out the door. 

“Enjoy your last night together, gentlemen.”

***

Monitors continually to beep as your eyes fluttered open.  You were still incredibly exhausted after rushing to the hospital and being in labor for as long as you were before Olivia decided to grace the world with her presence.

Olivia.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t move. What do you need?”, Derek asked as you began to sit up. He sighed when you ignored him to reach for the crib and touch your daughter’s cheek to make sure she was ok. “The doctor said you should rest and take these…”

As he reached his hand out to give you some pills, you swatted them away across the room. 

“Y/N, I’m trying to help.”

“Fuck you.”

Exhaling, he took a seat by the foot of your bed and you immediately curled into yourself so he wouldn’t touch you.

“I didn’t know what to do. Your dad said if I did this he could help my family. We are in so much debt and my mom is about to go bankrupt. I could get kicked out of school and my family could lose their house—”

“So you agreed to settle down and ruin my life, you selfish asshole.”

“I’M selfish!?”, he hissed. “You brought an innocent baby into this world who has no idea her father is fucking murderer. And what, you were just going to raise her by yourself till she was 13 in a town where she will be ostracized?! She deserves better.”

“Fuck you. You are NOT Olivia’s father.”, you growl.

Derek’s eyes darken in anger as he rises to his feet. 

“Whether you like it or not I am now and next week you’re going to be my wife so it’s time you start accepting that fact. You did…once.”

As soon as he leaves, you lay your head back and sob. A part of you knew he was right; that Olivia deserved better but she deserved Eddie and Steve. Two men who loved her and you and shouldn’t have been placed in the position they were in. 

The sound of the baby cooing grabbed your attention but as you shifted in bed a palm roughly covered your mouth. Your wide, fearful eyes locked with Eddie’s as he slowly placed his finger over his month and gestured towards the door where you saw Steve waiting.

Rapidly taking them in, they both had cuts and bruises on their face that looked fresh. The metalhead himself had a pool of blood on his shirt and when you reached out to touch it, it was wet and he didn’t flinch. 

It wasn’t his.

Olivia whined again as both your eyes fleeted in that direction. 

“Miss Y/N?”, one of the officer’s asked from down the hall. “Baby is making noise.”

“Shhhhhhh!”, a nurse loudly calls towards him making him huff. 

“How is girl going to be a mom when she sleeps through a baby crying—”

As the man stepped into the room, Steve wrapped his arm around his neck in chokehold till the man stopped struggling and slumped to the floor. 

“Are you both ok?”, Eddie whispers as he lifts his palm while you watch his friend begin to remove the cop’s uniform. “Y/N, look at me, baby.”

“Wha-Wha-What’s happening?”

“We don’t really have time to explain right now but we can after we start getting where we are going. Can you move?”

As Steve put on the jacket, he tucked the gun into his pants and continued to search for something but for what you weren’t sure. 

“Y/N!”, Eddie growls in a low rumble that makes you jump before he exhales trying to control his temper. “Sweetheart, we don’t have a lot of time for this. Do you want to come with us or not?”

“I-I-I can walk but—but not fast. I need medication.”

The other boy grabs your chart and flashes it towards his friend who nods. 

“Does Olivia need anything from the doctor?” 

When you shake your head, Steve abruptly kneels in front of you and slides some scrub pants along your legs. 

“What happened to your faces?”

“Ok, honey, I’m going to carry you and Ed’s going to get the baby. Ready?”

“Answer one of my—!”

This time the pretty boy’s palm silenced you when you raised your voice, his own angry irises glaring into yours. 

“You have to be quiet, Y/N.”, he grunts in annoyance before sighing and moving his hand to caress your cheek. “Your father caught you leaving the prison.”

That’s all you needed to hear as it suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe and the machines around you began to beep. 

Leaning his forehead on yours, he began to inhale and exhale with you, guiding you as you felt Eddie kiss your temple. 

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything ok?”, the intercom cackled. 

“Um, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just had…had a nightmare.”

“Do you need something to help you go back to sleep?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

The three of you wait and Steve hands his friend the scrubs he found as he gently lifts you off the bed to place you in a chair nearby. You watch as he grabs the officer and nervously takes off everything attached to you before hooking it to the unconscious man. When the monitors continue to beep steadily, he grins. 

“Oh, I know, princess, I know. Daddy’s got you.”, Eddie murmurs softly as he lifts the baby into his arms. 

As you try to stand, the world spins and you fall back down right as Steve catches your wrist.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just…just need to sleep…”

Nodding, Steve pushes the cap down on his head and blocks as much of his eyes as he can while Eddie puts a face mask over his mouth. Pointing towards the wheelchair, he hastily puts you into it and begins exiting the room. 

“Are there any other officers you’re aware of around here, Y/N?”, he whispers.

“I don’t know…but I’ve…only ever seen one.”

“Excuse me.”, the nurse calls. “Where are you taking her?”

“I, uh…”

“I wanted to get some…air. Is…that ok?! I know my father has me…fucking shackled here but I can still move around! I’m bringing this asshole…is that…ok?!”, you shouted as best you could. 

The lady eyes you up and down before standing to head to a cart next to her. 

“Take this before you go. The last thing we need is you getting an infection or something. And don’t be out there with that little one too long. She needs to rest to.”, she instructs as she hands you a cup of water to swallow your pill. 

“How much more rest does she need?”, Steve asks, absently gesturing your way while trying to hide his genuine concern. 

“She’ll be ready physically within the next couple of days and you guys hounding me constantly about that won’t heal her any faster! Jesus.”

Rolling his eyes, he continues forward to the elevator and all three of you exhale a sigh of relief as the doors close around you. 

“Do you think you can hold her, Y/N?”

“Where are you going?”, Eddie asks as he gently hands you Olivia. 

“I’m going to run to the third floor to grab her meds. Find us a car and I’ll meet you out front.”

###############

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80 @myherometalhead @hardladyheart @sheisjoeschateau @chelebelletx

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, minor injury, confirmation of minor canonical character death

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

The silence inside the truck was so uncomfortable that it teetered on the border of unbearable. Daryl hadn’t spoken a single word, not even when the caravan stopped to discuss forthcoming plans and you were invited to join. He didn’t have to speak. The intense glare that could have burned a hole through Rick’s head said everything his mouth didn’t.

You noticed Jacqui’s absence at once. There was an ache in your chest at her loss. She had been kind to you the few times you had interacted. You didn’t need an explanation. She had perished at the CDC. Whether or not it had been at Jenner’s hand was irrelevant. It had been his intent to trap you all there. In the end, it would still be blood on the doctor’s hands. 

“So, we’re all in agreement? Fort Benning?” The former sheriff met the eyes of everyone as they nodded. “Alright, that’s settled. I think we need to discuss our means of travel. We’ll burn a helluva lot of fuel taking so many vehicles. Any suggestions?”

Looks were exchanged, but Dale spoke up first. “I know the RV is by far the worst on the fuel but it does provide space and a means of shelter beyond what the others do. I’m probably biased but there it is.”

“No, I think as long as we can keep the RV running, it should stay.” Lori agreed with a nod and a hand on the older man’s shoulder. 

“Alright, okay.” Rick continued. “That still leaves four others.”

“We can ditch the van. Ride in the RV.” T-Dog offered quickly. 

“I can lose the Jeep and ride with you, Lori, and Carl.” Shane leaned against the vehicle in question and awaited a response. Rick shook his head almost immediately. 

“We’ll take Carol and Sophia, keep the kids together. You can go in the RV.” 

The first emotion that passed over the other officer’s face was sour, you noticed, but swiftly turned into a compliant smile and nod. You narrowed your eyes but held your tongue. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

“M’a take the bike.” Daryl stated matter-of-factly, not even waiting for input before he dropped the tailgate of the truck. “Ya help me with this?” He waved a hand toward the truck bed with a glance at T-Dog.

“That’s good, Daryl. Real good. Lori, Carol, the kids, and I in the Cherokee. Daryl and Y/N on the bike. The rest in–”

“Just me.” The redneck interjected, not looking away from the task of unloading the bike. You didn’t need confirmation to know what he meant. 

“What?” Rick asked anyway.

“She can ride in the RV.” Daryl huffed. Rick raised his eyebrows but ended with shrugging a shoulder and moving on. 

You, however, continued staring at the archer. It wasn’t public knowledge that the baby was Daryl’s. Amidst the panic and confusion at the CDC, no one took notice of the exchanges between the two of you. You assumed he’d like to keep it that way. Assumptions were all you had to go on at the moment because the bastard was refusing to speak to you! Still, if he continued with the very obvious disdain toward you, he was going to give himself away.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You turned to find all other eyes on you. 

“Rick was asking if you’re okay being in the RV.” Lori was tilting her head, watching you with a look you didn’t really like. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine wherever you want me.”

“Probably be more comfortable there.” Carol smiled that gentle smile of hers. “At some point, we’re gonna have to address the elephant in the room.” Shane’s tone was condescending. You curled your lip when he shifted to cross his arms and spit off to the side. His eyes remained on you, flickering down to your stomach and back up. You were starting to get the feeling he didn’t like you much.

Lucky for him, the feeling was mutual. “We’ve got time.” Lori interjected before you could even open your mouth. “One thing at a time. We need to find somewhere safe to stay first. Get off the road.” “She’s right.” Rick started grabbing the fuel cans and hoses to siphon the gas from the vehicles that were being left behind. The rest of the group scattered to move things and automobiles around, leaving you and Shane in a staring match. You wanted to smirk when he looked away first, granting you one last glance before disappearing around the RV.

“Anything I can do to help?” You walked up to the door of the RV as Dale stepped down. He gave you a sweet smile and traipsed out of your way, motioning to the inside. 

“You don’t need to be pulling and tugging at things. You just go on inside.” 

You snorted. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I can help.”

The older man was obviously torn but with a glance toward Andrea, he finally relented. Another story there, you supposed. “Maybe move some of the lighter bags and supplies from the other cars. They may have beat you to it, but that’s really all I know of that would be okay for you.” 

“Okay, I’ll check with Lori.” You smiled at him before he went about with whatever he was doing in preparation to leave. You really did appreciate his concern but you were new to the group. You had to show them that you could be an asset. It wouldn’t do for you to end up on your own with a baby on the way. You made it to the back corner of the RV before you felt eyes searing into the back of your head. Maybe Shane had seen the exchange with Dale. Glancing over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Daryl. This time, it was you who looked away first.

You had chosen to all but hide in the back of the RV, on the bed with a book that Dale had let you borrow. You weren’t really reading as much as you were listening to the exchanges between Andrea and Shane. He was showing her about maintaining a gun. When she mentioned her father, you felt a twinge of pain in your chest. 

The nausea had returned with a vengeance. Sips of water, you could handle with enough time in between. The constant rolling of your gut had you turning away from anything substantial. You knew you should eat. You needed to eat. Maybe when the next stop was made, you could ask about some crackers or something. 

Lost in your head, it wasn’t until you heard Dale’s distressed exclamation that you actually looked up, leaning out to be able to see what was going on from your hovel in the back room. 

“Oh jeez. Aw no. See a way through?” 

You tossed the book to the foot of the bed and swung your legs over the edge to get to your feet. Glenn was suggesting to turn around for a bypass but Dale quickly shot down the idea. 

“We can’t spare the fuel.”

“Jesus.” You whispered when you got your first glimpse of the disastrous cluster of cars and debris. As the RV idled, there was a pop and a white cloud drifted up in front of the windshield. “Shit.” You followed the others out the door, taking in the scene when you heard Daryl’s bike. The hunter weaved through the maze of vehicles and stopped in front of the RV. 

The others discussed options, a conversation you purposefully avoided. They were including you but having a say in things was a totally different matter. You didn’t feel like you were there yet. 

“There’s a whole bunch’a stuff we can find.” Daryl was right. The owners of the abandoned cars didn’t need the things they’d left behind in their panic. Except—not all of them had left. You could clearly see a corpse in the passenger side of a sedan. Was it a walker? Couldn’t be. It would have responded to the noise. 

“This is a graveyard. I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“I’m with Lori. It feels like—grave robbing.” While Lori’s comment went ignored, yours earned a look from Shane that made your skin crawl. He eventually sneered before his expression smoothed out and he gave the order for everyone to go searching. 

You stood still, biting your lip in hesitation. The thought of someone taking your father’s belongings from the camp just because he was dead made you see red. How could you possibly go along with this?

Maybe you could stay behind in the RV. Andrea was there, so it shouldn’t be a problem if—

“Go on.” Daryl gave you a shove you would almost define as gentle. It was the first time he had spoken to you since the CDC. You wanted to retort with something snarky, but what would that do other than piss him off more than he already was. “Grab anythin’ ya think could be useful.”

“Okay.” You kept your tone soft, picking up your pace to catch up to him when he brushed past. “Can we talk?” You really did want to smooth things over. You told yourself that the connection with Daryl was solely physical, but now you’d be raising a child together in an apocalypse. That would definitely be easier if you could communicate on some level at least. 

He never missed a step when he glanced at you while maneuvering between the automobiles. He’d peek in the windows of some but continued further out, probably to keep everyone else closer to your own cars. 

“Nah.” He finally glowered, walking backwards away from you a few steps before turning around and disappearing behind a cargo van. 

Sighing heavily, you took stock of your surroundings. There was no point in following after him. You didn’t have the energy anyway. The nausea was worsening and there was little to no water left in the RV. You allowed for a disgruntled breath, pressed a palm to your belly, and opened the driver door of the nearest car. The sooner everyone got what they needed, the better. 

The smell of the decaying corpse was horrific and forced you to pull things out with one hand while the other pressed over your mouth and nose. Luckily there wasn’t much more than a suitcase that held some men’s clothing. You weren’t sure what the men could use so you left what was there, with the exception of one shirt. Strategically ripping, you fashioned a cover to tie around your face. You’d work faster with both hands. 

After several minutes, you had found a damn treasure trove, including a beautiful knife in a holster that you had taken the liberty of securing around your thigh. It wasn’t a firearm but it was better than nothing. 

You were climbing backwards out of the backseat of a little hatchback when you took a break to steady yourself. You were drenched in sweat and felt a little dizzy. Maybe it was time to gather your findings and go back to the others for a break. You had gone pretty far ahead. 

The silence on the roadway was unnerving. You’d give almost anything for bumper to bumper traffic with an orchestra of angry shouts and sounding horns; for everything to go back like it was. You’d be in the woods at that time of day, tracking rabbits or squirrels. It didn’t take much to feed just you and your father. You didn’t have a smokehouse, so smaller game was ideal. You could still see his proud beam when you’d walk through the door. 

Those days were gone now. 

Back at your pile of finds, it occurred to you that you couldn’t carry it all back alone. Loath as you were to admit it, Daryl had been the closest. You pulled down your makeshift mask with a groan, but there was no other option unless you wanted to walk all the way back to the RV just to bring back help. They would likely demand you stayed put, but you didn’t want them to see you as incapable. Daryl was already annoyed with you, so requesting his assistance was your best bet. 

Your steps were dragging by the time you made it to the cargo van where he had so casually rebuffed your request. Barely around the rear bumper, your stomach decided to rebel. You lurched forward with a repulsive retching sound, stomach muscles cramping from the force of the heaves. Your stomach was empty. Rancid acid and bile burned your throat, the intensity of your gagging ensuring you could be heard all the way at the RV. 

Your stomach still contracted uncomfortably, excess saliva gathering in your mouth. You had just managed to wipe away any remnants on the sleeve of your flannel when a hand clamped down around your jaw. Fight or flight activated, you scrambled for the knife at your thigh, managing a single swipe before a hand caught your wrist. 

“Quiet, goddamnit!” Daryl hissed faintly against your ear. He was pulling you toward the back of the van and hastily shoving you inside before climbing in himself. You loured at him and sheathed your weapon while he scrupulously pulled the doors closed. 

“What—” His hand bore down over your mouth a second time, a finger raised to his lips. You only managed an indignant huff before something struck the side of the van with a thud. Vibrant orbs widened with realization that he had just saved your ass from what sounded like a sizable number of walkers. 

Daryl haltingly lowered his hand as if you’d yell at him despite the threat lurking just outside. The man was sweaty and panting, as if he’d been running. Giving him  once over you noticed the carmine liquid slowly saturating his shirt just above his hip. 

Your movements were slow and deliberate to ensure silence. He didn’t seem to notice you until you were almost next to him, resulting in him reeling back with a vexed expression. 

“You’re hurt.” You mouthed, reaching behind your head to untie the ripped section of fabric you had used as a mask. When you extended it toward the wound, he swatted at your hand. You couldn’t risk speaking so the two of you engaged in an intense staring contest. The hunter finally relented with a shake of his head, deeming alertness toward the flock of undead to be priority. You smirked and pressed the wadded strip against the injury. 

He let out a grunt but stayed still, eyes remaining on the doors. It didn’t take long for the bleeding to let up, giving you a chance to peel back one side of the slice in his shirt. The wound was superficial, wouldn’t need stitches, but it was abundantly clear that you had nicked him when he grabbed you. You felt your stomach drop. Or maybe that was just the nausea. 

“Think they moved on.” Daryl quietly informed you. Oblivious to your revelation, he opened one door, barely wide enough to see outside. “We can prolly head back to the—what?” He stopped short, your apologetic expression giving him pause. 

“I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t mean to—”

The hunter rolled his eyes. “S’fine. Won’t kill me.”

While he was quick to dismiss the event, you still felt terrible. It could have been so much worse. The whole thing made your desire to talk things out with him that much more crucial. “Daryl, can you just listen to me for a second?”

There was the briefest of moments when you thought he was going to acquiesce. There was something more than anger in the way he looked at you. Then he was shaking his head. “We gotta get back. Check in with ev’ryone.” You grabbed his arm with both hands when he shifted to climb out. “M’serious. I ain’t doin’ this.”

“I get that you’re angry—with me.” You swallowed hard against the strange taste in your mouth, ignoring the protests of your inexorable stomach. “You have every right to be.” Daryl growled and snatched his arm away. He climbed out and stood just outside the door, clearly not confident enough with the degree of safety to leave you behind. 

“Drop it, Y/N.” He warned. 

You had climbed out and blocked his path, hands hovering in front of his chest. “The least you can let me do is—” It happened just as suddenly as before. You had no time to react. You could only clutch your abdomen and pitch forward, vomiting up what little bile that had accumulated since the last episode. All over his left boot. “—apologize.” 

If it had been any other situation, the deadpan examination Daryl was currently giving his footwear would have been arguably hilarious. 

“I’m, uh, sorry about that too.”

His eyes moved up to glare at you from beneath his lashes. You didn’t think a mess on his boot would be enough to really set off a man who spent the majority of his time identifying—and very often stepping in—animal waste. This was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. He took a step toward you. Though you didn’t think he’d hurt you, even for reasons beyond the baby, you couldn’t say you knew him well enough to bank on that theory. Therefore, you took a step back. 

“Listen, woman, just ‘cause ya got my kid inside ya don’t mean I hafta—” He cut off suddenly, angling his head in a way that was familiar to you. You did the same thing while hunting; listening for sounds to indicate an animal was nearby. 

“What is it?” 

He shushed you harshly. When you focused on the sounds around you rather than the whirlwind of thoughts in your own head, you could hear it too. 

Your blood ran cold with dread. 

“Sophia! Lori, there’s two walkers after my baby!”

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood

Chapter: 6.07

You silently prayed, holding onto the silver cross Carl gave you while Maggie slept in the bed in the RV. She was in so much pain, and eventually exhaustion had taken over her. The thought of losing her terrified you.

Rick crouches down beside you and gently squeezes your shoulder. “Do you remember the night at the prison when the gate fell down and the walkers got through; it was at the same time everyone was sick with the flu?”

You wipe at your eyes, which now feel sticky with tears. “Yeah?”

“Me, you, and Carl stopped the horde from getting to the people we love.”

“I don’t understand,” you admit.

“You needed to be brave that night, just as you have so many other times. When you shot Ron... Maggie needs you to be brave now.”

“I’m scared I’m going to lose her.”

“I know, but the doctor in Hilltop will take good care of her.” Rick lowers his voice. “It’s not just your sister that needs you; Carl does as well. He’s trying to be strong, but everything that’s happened since we arrived in Alexandria... I know he’s struggling.”

You turn your head and nod, “Okay.”

Rick kisses your forehead and goes to join Sasha, Abraham, Eugene, Aaron, and Carl at the front of the RV, but just as he does, the campervan comes to a sudden halt.

“What’s going on?”

“Enemy close,” Abraham says calmly.

You stand up to look out of the front window to see a group of men with guns standing around a man who is laying on the road who looks as if he’s had a bad beating.

Rick goes to open the door, but pauses and hands you a gun first. “YN, stay here with Maggie. The rest of you are with me.”

You crouch down, trying to keep out of view while watching. It’s hard for you to hear everything that’s being said, but Rick and the other man in charge have a standoff, but surprisingly no bullets are fired.

—

Carl tilts the blinds to look out of the window, watching as Walker stumbles through the field next to the road. He closes the blinds and looks at Aaron, “Why didn’t you stay back and defend the place?”

You were sitting further up the RV at a small table with Eugene trying to help him look for another route to Hilltop from your current position, but you still had a view of the bed your sister was in, including those sitting next to her.

“I owe her,” Aaron answers, looking at Maggie. “Why did you come?”

“I owe them, plus I need to keep Y/N safe.”

You start to grow nervous when Eugene stops mumbling to himself; you’re afraid there is no other route, and the only other options are to return home and hope for the best, or fight with the men from the saviors and hope for the best. But Eugene finally breaks his silence. “I think I’ve got something.”

—

“Do you think you could do it?” Abraham asks as he drives the RV along the new route. It was only the two of you sitting up the front, so you weren’t sure where the conversation was coming from since you’d been sitting in silence.

“Do what?”

“Do what Maggie and Glenn did with Carl?”

You laugh at his words, “I’m too young to think about marriage and babies.”

“I may have agreed with you at one point, but now in this new world?” He sees the expression on your face and chuckles to himself, “I’m not saying you get Gabriel to perform a ceremony the moment we go home, but if what you have is special, then never let it go. No matter how old you are.”

You knew Abraham was just trying to distract you from being upset, but you did appreciate it. “The last thing anybody needs is a drunk behind the wheel.”

“You always had a smart mouth on ya, I was starting to miss hearing your shit talk.”

Growing up the way you did, your mother and father always drilled it into you to be polite, respectful, and never swear, and even during the apocalypse, you were afraid something bad would happen if you did. “My daddy would have said you were a bad influence.”

“That’s funny because Glenn said the exact same thing to me last week.” He clears his throat. “Tell you what? Once this is all done and dusted, I’ll teach you how to drive properly so the next time I’m drunk driving, you can take over.”

“Deal.”

A few more moments of silence pass until Abraham turns the corner and you see another group of men with guns blocking the road, “bitch nuts. Y/N, don’t get too close to the window.”

Everyone gathers to stare at the men; you gulp down. If they decided to attack now, it wouldn’t take long for all of you to be dead. Unless Abraham managed to speed away, then our group would easily be overpowered.

“Do we make a stand?” Sasha asks.

“Yeah,” Carl looks at his dad. “We end it.”

“No, we can’t. This is a trap; the moment we step out of the RV, we are dead.”

“With one of us behind a wheel that’s five on sixteen,” Rick adds. “We’re gonna play it our way, how we want.”

Abraham slowly backs the RV up, and when he doesn't, one of the men starts firing into the sky, causing you to flinch, feeling as scared as you did when the men ambushed you, Daryl, Rosita, and Denise.

You start to feel yourself panic, but a hand reaches out and holds onto your wrist. Carl keeps hold of you until you’re far enough away that the gunshots start to fade into the distance.

—

“Wait, dad, something's not right.”

The saviors were now toying with your group and had set traps up blocking the different roads. They had a row of walkers chained together blocking the road, but it wasn’t until now that you noticed what Carl was so freaked out about.

“Oh my god, that’s Daryl’s.”

One of the walkers had a piece of Michonne attached to the side of its head; the others had clothing that belonged to other members of your group.

Rick goes to stab one of the walkers in the head, but men appear on either side of the road and begin firing at you.

“Everyone into the RV now!”

Carl and Sasha cover Rick while he breaks the blockade of walkers by cutting off their arms, making space for Abraham to drive through. Once you make it back onto the RV, you immediately go to Maggie’s side and notice how much worse she looks.

—

You place your hand on Maggie’s forehead. “She’s burning up.”

“She’s going to make it,” Carl says, trying to reassure you.

“The Saviors are messing with us for fun. They’ve made sure we know they have our people; they aren’t afraid of walkers, but yet they aren’t killing us.” Each time Abraham drove so far up another road, there would be another blockage preventing you from going any further. They even hung a man and set fire to one of the blockades in front of you. “These people aren’t scared of anything.”

Seeing Maggie start to stir, you take hold of her hand. “Hey, it’s fine. It’s going to be okay.”

“I heard gunshots.”

“It was the Saviors, but it’s fine now.”

—

The odds were staking up against you, but Eugene came through with a plan. The saviors were waiting to see the RV appearing on the road, so if you waited until nightfall, you would have a better chance of traveling on foot without being seen while he still drives the RV to make them think your group was still on the road.

“Maggie, we are going to get you to the doctor soon,” you smile. “You and baby will be okay.”

Her skin was pale and sweaty, and you didn’t actually believe what you were saying. You had a feeling something terrible was about to happen.

After making a stretcher out of what you could find in the RV, all of you aside from Eugene start to go through the woods. Maggie, being her stubborn self, insisted she walk to Hilltop, but it wasn’t going to happen. You and Carl take out the walkers that get too close while the remaining four people take a corner of the stretcher.

You’re unsure of how long you’ve been walking for when you notice something shining on the ground. “Wait up,” you whisper, bending down to inspect the familiar jewelry. You pick it up but then quickly toss it, feeling the wetness on it. “Rick, Rick.”

He looks over at you with a panicked look in his eyes. “What is it?”

“We need to go back.” You hold up your hand so he can see the blood on it. “Rosita’s earrings; she was wearing them when she left Alexandria—”

Before you can say anything else, you are cut off by multiple people whistling. This whole thing was a trap, even the way the jewelry was laid out was so easy to find. The Saviors just wanted to torment as many people as they could.

“Go! Go!”

You take off running through the woods until a bright light blinds you, and you’re suddenly surrounded by saviors and different vehicles, making it impossible to run away from them. All of them were whistling.

Holding your gun, you stand with your back to Maggie, prepared to shoot anyone who tries to hurt her.

The man called Simon, who Rick spoke with earlier, appears and points his gun at Carl, ordering all of you to hand over your weapons. This was the first time you’d ever seen Rick look terrified, and that’s how you knew you were screwed.

—

“Y/N,” Carl’s face turns pale as he notices the blood soaking through your shirt.

“I know.”

Between running and being forced down onto your knees by the saviors, the stitches from your stab wound had pulled, and your wound was now bleeding.

“Hey, hey,” Abraham gets your attention. “Show them no goddamn fear.”

You wanted to be brave like them, but you weren’t. You felt completely helpless while you watched them force Maggie onto her knees.

A van door is opened, and Michonne, Rosita, Glenn, and Daryl are dragged from it, then forced onto the ground beside the rest of you. Simon gleefully knocks on the RV door, “Alright, let’s meet the man.”

Through teary eyes, you meet Carl’s gaze. The two of you were on opposite ends of the line-up. You were now kneeling on the ground between Glenn and Rosita.

The door opens, and a dark-haired man with a wide grin walks out, “Pissing our pants yet?”

Satan in a Sunday hat.

“Boy, so I gave a feeling we’re getting close.” The man walks back and forth along the line, sizing everyone up while holding a wooden basketball bat that had barbed wire wrapped around it. “It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one you pricks is the leader?”

“It’s this one,” Simon points to Rick. “He’s the guy.”

The man sighs, “Hi, you’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.”

You silently start to pray again, taking hold of the small silver cross between your fingers.

“You see, stick to whatever you do; no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this: And it’s really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. Are you ready? Here goes, pay attention.” He points his bat in Rick's face, “Give me your shit, or I will kill you. Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit; you give it to me. That’s your job.”

While Negan continues to taunt your group, your eyes move along every single person who you know is considered family. Everyone was crying and shaking aside from Abraham and Carl.

Negan keeps repeating that he wants half your group's supplies, but that wouldn’t be enough.

“So if someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. Understand?” Negan mockingly puts his hand up to his ear, “What, no answer?”

Negan reminds you of the governor.

“You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now did you?” Negan shakes his head. “I don’t wanna kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me.”

Just like the governor wanted you all the live together at one point.

“You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden, but you killed my people—a whole damn lot of them. More than I’m comfortable with. And for that—for that you’re going to pay.”

An eye for an eye.

“So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.”

The crazy bastard introduces his baseball bat as Lucille, Negan is crazy. He stands in front of Abraham and seems amused when Abraham holds his gaze and rises up on his knees. Chucking Negan moves down the line and points at Carl, “You had one of our guns.”

Carl says nothing.

Negan crouches in front of him. “You got a lot of our guns. Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.”

He starts to walk back up the line and stops in front of Maggie. “Jesus, you look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery.”

The second Negan lifts the bat up, both you and Glenn yell for him to stop. Glenn tries to reach Maggie but is pinned down to the ground by a savior.

“Nope. Nope, get him back in line,” Negan says, sounding like an unimpressed parent. “Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First ones free; it’s an emotional moment; I get it.”

You press your palm against your side in a poor attempt to stop it hurting so much, which Negan notices. He laughs, “Jesus Rick, you could have at least made it harder for me. Half your camp looks as if it’s dying off already.”

You want to cry but don’t allow yourself to, not anymore. Giving Negan the satisfaction would be more painful than the wound itself. He points to your side with his bad, “What the hell happened to you?”

“One of your men stabbed me.”

“One of my men stabbed you? A kid?” He kneels down with a smirk on his face. “So you know I have men that can and will fight for me. What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you have men who take the easy option and stab a little girl rather than actually putting up a real fight.”

His smile disappears. Negan just stares at you for a few moments until he suddenly stands and looks back over at Carl, who was glaring at him. “I’ve been trying to put two and two together, but I think I now get it; this is your little girlfriend.” He turns back to look at Rick, “And this must be your kid; you have a similar evil eye.”

“That’s enough!”

“Do not make me kill the little future serial killer; don’t make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody, and everybody is at the table waiting for their order.”

Negan starts whistling while trying to decide who to kill.

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N attends her first Harry Styles concert and catches the unwanted attention of a knothead alpha. Luckily Harry and his team are able get to you in time, leading to some confusing thoughts about the popstar.

Previous Chapters: Prologue

CW: Attempted assault (nothing too graphic but it is there)

Word Count: 4.7k

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

“What do you mean you can’t go?” You ask incredulously. Going to the concert wasn’t even your idea. It was your friend Rachel’s and now she’s ditching you.

There’s a pause on the other end of the call before Rachel says, “It’s my dog. Well, my family dog that we’ve had since I was in middle school. She’s not doing well, and they think she only has a couple days left so now I have to drive back to Delaware to see her and say goodbye.”

“Oh my god, Rach, I’m so sorry!” And now you feel like a jerk for being mad at her canceling.

“Thanks. We knew it was coming but I hoped we had a few more weeks. Uhm, anyway, I need to finish packing and get on the road.”

“Of course, yea, safe trip home,” you quickly reply.

“You better take some videos of the concert and send them to me. Especially if he does something different for night one at MSG!”  

“Rachel, I’m not gonna have any idea if he’s doing stuff different from his last shows, as I have no idea what his shows are like. But I promise to send you a couple videos, okay?”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t watched any videos from tour. What rock do you live under again?” You laugh at her teasing, mostly cause it’s true. The fact that you’ve made it this far without knowing much about Harry Styles surprises even you. “Have fun for both of us tonight,” Rachel says.

“I will, give your dog a belly rub from me. Love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

The call ends and you sit for a moment. You don’t really want to go to a concert alone, but that’s what your night now has in store. Rachel had tried calling some other people in your friend group, but they were all busy. You’d also texted your two best friends, Amelia and Violet, but it was too last minute for them to change plans and go with you.

So, alone it is.

You look at the outfit you had planned but decide against it. The leather pants and crop top ensemble isn’t exactly in your comfort zone, but Rachel chose it and wanted the two of you to match. Now that you’re on your own you switch to a pair of jean shorts with tights underneath and a flowy top, something you’re much more comfortable with. Harry’s music plays in the background while you get ready. You’d been studying the setlist to make sure you would know at least some of the songs he’ll perform. You’re happy when you find yourself singing along, showing that listening on repeat had worked.

After getting dressed you do your hair and makeup, then drive to your local train station. Living in north Jersey has its perks, and the quick train ride directly to Madison Square Garden might just be the biggest.

You get off the train and follow the trail of feathers from the boas which leads you directly to the venue. You show your ticket and are led to the entrance for the pit.

Being in the pit had also been Rachel’s idea. You’d never done that before, and you would have preferred somewhere with a seat, and honestly a better view from a higher vantage point. But you’d agreed to pit and in the weeks leading to the show you’d actually become excited to experience something new.

But now that you’re alone, you’re a bit overwhelmed. You’re one of the last people to arrive, since it’s only half an hour before the opener is set to start, so you end up hanging in the back. But even then, the large amount of people around you has you on edge.

Being a single female is hard. Guys are always hitting on women, feeling entitled to your company, not taking no for an answer. But being a single female omega is even harder. The way you see it betas have it easy, especially since they’re the majority. And alphas? Well, what do they have to worry about? They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they have their alpha voices that can command you and take away your free will if they want. Plus, they have an unmatched sense of superiority, thinking they’re so special just because of their secondary gender.

But you’re an omega. Often considered to be the weakest gender. Which is stupid. You’re the gender that gives birth, which takes way more strength than alphas could ever possess. And yet you’re still looked down upon by plenty of people in society.

So, you choose to hide your secondary gender. Only your family members plus Ameila and Violet know the truth. You don’t need anyone judging you based on one little trait.

Going out in public, especially at places as crowded as MSG always gives you anxiety. You never know if a knothead alpha is going to be there and literally sniff you out as an omega. But you trust your suppressants and soothers and, most importantly, your scent blockers, to do their jobs and hide your omega status from the strangers around you.

The pills have never failed in you in the eight years since you started taking them. You have no reason to doubt them now.

And yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the attention a certain man in the crowd is giving you. He is undoubtedly an alpha, one that for sure does not use scent blockers. In fact, you’re almost convinced he’s doing something to broadcast his scent, somehow make it even stronger. It’s an unpleasant odor, one that practically burns your nose, but you pretend you can’t smell it. Afterall, a beta wouldn’t be able to notice the scent.

But as much as you try to ignore the scent, going so far as to move to the entire other side of the pit, it still lingers. Because you are most definitely being followed. Seemingly casual glances at the crowd around you shows that the man has moved with you.

Going closer to the stage is the last thing you want to do, but getting deeper in the crowd might be what you need to shake off the man. The girls around you gladly welcome you and make space for you to join. A moment later the opening act starts to play, and you no longer smell the alpha. You’re relieved and get into the music for a few minutes.

Then the girls around you start to move, and you hear them say something about the bathroom. You decide to go with them since you could use a bathroom break and there will be safety in numbers. You keep your head down and casually follow, in hopes that the man won’t see you leaving the crowd.

Only once in the bathroom do you lift your head up. There’s a small line since most people are out listening to the first band. A moment later it’s your turn and you enter the stall. After using the restroom, you notice a large rip in your tights. You look at them, hoping they can be considered fashionably torn, but then you see another hole and decide to give up on them altogether.

It takes you a couple minutes to get rid of them, needing basically to fully undress from the waist down to get them off. Finally, you’re put together again, and you exit the stall, throw out the destroyed tights, and wash your hands. You notice that the group you came with is gone. In fact, the entire bathroom is now empty.

You sigh, disappointed that you’re on your own again, but you suck it up and start making your way back to the pit.

The second you walk out the bathroom door you smell it. Him. That acrid, somehow fishy, definitely revolting scent that alerts you that the alpha is nearby.

Before you even see him you hear him say, “Be quiet, and follow me.”

Shit. That’s an alpha command. You’re aware of that fact, but unable to fight it. You want to run, go back to the crowd, but you have no choice but to follow this man deeper into the back hallways. You want to scream, but every time you open your mouth, no sound comes out.

He leads you to a deserted corner, pushing you so your back is against a wall, and says, “Now stay quiet, and don’t move.”

Again, you do as he says, not only because of the command that you have to follow, but also due to the fear paralyzing you to the spot and rendering you silent.

“What a good little omega,” he says as he walks closer. He leans towards your neck, breath ghosting over your mating spot, and a loud whimper escapes you.

Realizing that you don’t need words to call for help, you begin to let out whines and whimpers as well as release distressed pheromones. Sure, you have scent blockers, but they’re not perfect and fear this strong will surely overpower them. You hope it’s enough to alert any other alphas nearby that there is an omega in danger.

You see the anger cross the man’s face, note the furious pheromones he’s releasing, but before he even reacts, your world goes dark.

***

Harry’s stylist is putting the finishing touches on his hair when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Harry says.

The door opens and he sees his band standing just outside the room.

“Blood Orange is about to start,” his drummer, Sarah, says. “You coming to watch with us?”

“Yea, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.”

As soon as he’s left alone, Harry takes some calming breaths. Night one of fifteen consecutive sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. He can’t believe how far he’s come in his career. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself that he’s worked hard for this, that he’s completely ready.

After spraying one more dose of scent blockers, he walks out of his room and goes through the hallways to find his band. They’re at the end of one hall, standing at the opening they’ll use later to walk to the stage. Harry joins them, making sure they’re all back far enough that they are still hidden from the fans.

Harry mingles with his band while they wait for the opener to start their set. But after a minute, Harry starts to get an uneasy feeling. He himself isn’t nervous or scared, so he really doesn’t understand where this sudden anxiety is coming from.

Harry looks around and sees a worried look on Sarah’s face. Aside from Harry himself, Sarah is the only other Alpha in the band. So the fact that they both have a sudden bad feeling while the betas around them seem unbothered has Harry on edge.

He begins to look for any type of potential threat. Right away he notices that the two Alpha security guards are scanning the area as well, hinting that they’ve picked up on the same thing. One of them walks away to start looking for anything that could be going wrong.

Blood Orange takes the stage, and that anxious feeling seems to go away. Harry checks with Sarah and she’s feeling better too, so they assume whatever was wrong has been taken care of.

Everyone enjoys the first few songs, and suddenly, the feeling comes back, way stronger than before. Harry’s alpha is immediately alert. He starts moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He hears footsteps and sees Sarah and a security guard following close behind.

None of them know exactly where the trouble is, they just follow their instincts through the backstage hallways. Suddenly, the feeling of overwhelming terror hits them, and they can faintly hear whimpers coming from a distressed omega.

They start to run in the direction the sounds are coming from. Rounding a corner, they come across a scene that has their blood boiling.

There’s a female omega, seemingly unconscious, being physically held up against a wall by a male alpha.

“Let her go,” Harry growls out using his alpha voice. It’s less effective on the man than it would be on an omega, but his grip on the girl involuntarily loosens. Harry and the security guard move in to pull the alpha off, and Sarah runs forward to catch the girl.

More security guards move in and drag the alpha away to be questioned.

Harry’s focus shifts to the omega now being held in Sarah’s lap on the floor. Adrenaline is still coursing through Harry’s body, but he feels himself relaxing faster than he thought possible. That’s when he realizes Sarah is releasing calming pheromones. He immediately works to do the same, rather than continue to broadcast the anger he’s feeling.

He knows his emotions can affect the vulnerable omega, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her most stress.

His most pressing worry is that she’s dropped. It wouldn’t be all that surprising. Omegas tend to drop during stressful situations. This can be dangerous for a number of reasons, especially if they don’t have a trusted alpha to keep them safe while they’re under.

Not only can they not protect their bodies, but a drop can also be a scary experience mentally. Omegas have described it as feeling untethered, like they’re stuck in darkness, unable to find a way out. There are good drops as well, ones you go into on purpose to give your mind rest. This is always done when there is an alpha there to hold and scent them and keep them safe and grounded throughout.

But if this is a drop, Harry knows it would be a bad one, and they’d need to gently bring her up immediately.

“Sarah?” Harry says to get the other alpha’s attention.

“Yes?” she replies, not taking her eyes off the girl.

“Do you think she’s dropped?”

“No. At least not fully. I can still catch a bit of her scent. If she went fully under it would have disappeared completely.”

There’s movement all around them, members of venue security and Harry’s team all coming and going to ensure everyone is safe. Music and loud cheers can be heard, meaning the opening act if still playing, that the show was not interrupted by what happened backstage.

Harry and Sarah are focused solely on the omega, until they hear a familiar male voice say, “There you guys are. Sarah, you scared the shit out of me running off like that.”

She looks up at her husband, Mitch, and smiles sheepishly before saying, “Sorry, I really didn’t think. We heard her distressed whines and just reacted.”

“Is she okay?” Mitch asks, crouching down to be level with the group on the floor.

“We think so,” Harry answers. “There was an alpha who had her cornered. Not sure what exactly he was planning but it was obviously nothing good. She was unconscious when we got to her. Just wish she’d wake up so we can check that she’s really unharmed.”

“Is she in a drop?” Mitch asks. Being a beta he’s not as knowledgeable about these things but he knows enough to be concerned about the girl.

“No, definitely not a full drop. But I’ve been flooding the area with calming pheromones and she’s still not waking up,” Sarah says worriedly.

“Maybe she just senses unknown alphas around her. Why don’t I try holding her and you guys move away a bit?” He senses how reluctant they are to move away from the omega, but eventually they listen to Mitch.

He settles on the ground and Sarah passes the omega to him before moving to give them space. After another minute the girl begins to stir, groggily at first before her eyes shoot open and she jumps up to move away from all the people around her. They watch cautiously, unsure what to do with the sudden change in the situation.

***

For awhile you’re stuck in the dark. This isn’t a drop, not really. You’ve only ever dropped twice but you can tell there’s a difference this time. You’re still aware of what’s going on around you, even if the details are fuzzy.

The alpha is gone. That you know for sure. The awful smell is gone, replaced by a much more pleasant one. It’s a mix of black tea and maybe the ocean? Whatever it is reminds you of early morning walks on the beach during family vacations. You relax more into this scent, and then notice that fresh laundry smell which always means someone is releasing calming pheromones.

You start to relax, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. You can still sense multiple alphas, which keeps you a bit on edge. You try to open your eyes, but you’re still in a deep fog, probably due to the mix of intense emotions and the multiple alpha commands you’d been subjected to.

You don’t realize that someone is holding you until they shift and place you in another person’s arms. The alpha scent fades and you know the person now holding you is for sure a beta.

Finally, you manage to open your eyes. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but when you do, you’re overwhelmed, and honestly a bit embarrassed. Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, the world-famous popstar you’re here to see, is sitting across the hall from you, studying you closely. Next to him is a woman you recognize as his drummer.

After these discoveries, you fully realize your current position; that you’re being held in someone’s lap. One glance at the man shows it’s Harry’s guitarist. You’re no longer embarrassed. No, now you’re completely mortified. You quickly extract yourself from his hold and stand up, looking at the group, totally speechless.

They slowly stand as well, all looking at you. And not just them, but the other dozen or so people that are still in the hallway. There are so many eyes on you, watching you, and you just want to disappear.

Picking up on your unease, Harry says, “Why don’t we go somewhere less exposed, hm? You can hang in my dressing room and maybe have a medic look you over if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you begin to nod your head, just wanting to get somewhere quiet with less people. He reaches out as though to place his hand on your back and lead you but seems to think again and pulls his arm back. Instead, he walks ahead, and you follow, Mitch and Sarah coming as well.

You arrive at the room, groaning when you see more people waiting there. One’s the medic Harry mentioned, another is obviously a police officer, and the third is a man you don’t recognize.

“Harry, need to you choose your outfit and get dressed. We’ll take care of, uhm, sorry I didn’t catch your name,” says the man.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say immediately, surprised at just how scratchy your voice comes out.

Sarah must pick up on it because she asks you, “Would you like a cup of tea love?”

You can’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that.

“What’s go funny?” she asks, smiling as well.

“It’s just, your scent, it definitely smells like tea. And the first thing you say to me is about tea. Sorry, I know it’s not polite to comment on someone else’s smell,” you finish, head lowering in a new wave of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended,”

“Plus, you’re right,” Harry adds. “Swear I can’t make a cup of tea without thinking of her.”

“Aw, H, you think of me? How sweet,” she says with a joking tone.

“Real sweet,” Mitch says, then adds, “But stay away from my girl.”

You smile watching the easy interaction, happy to be distracted by their banter, sipping on the tea Sarah brings you.

That is until the man, whom you’ve learned is Harry’s manager, Jeff, reminds Harry that he’s supposed to be getting dressed, and the cop and medic walk over to you. There’s a table in one corner of the room and they lead you to it.

“Y/N, I’m Kate, I’m just going to get your vitals and check you over to make sure you’re okay, is that alright with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply.

“And I’m Officer Michaels, is it okay if I ask you some questions about the incident tonight?"

“Of course.”

And so, as Kate does a quick exam you tell the whole story to the officer, starting with the uneasy feeling when you first noticed the man, all the way to him using his alpha voice to corner you in a back hallway.

Harry had reentered the room by this point, dressed in his show outfit and looking completely ready to get on stage. But he’s making no moves to leave the room, even though Jeff is reminding him the show is supposed to start in five minutes. Mitch and Sarah leave to finish getting ready themselves.

“Are we all set here?” You ask Kate and Officer Michaels.

“I have everything I need,” he replies. Kate adds, “Everything checks out just fine,” and they both exit the room as well.

This leaves you with just Harry and Jeff.

“Great, so I guess I should go back to the pit then?” You knew you were holding everything up and didn’t want to be more in the way than you already have been.

“Actually, Y/N, it would probably be best if you stay here for the show. Jeff, can you go grab Jada for me?”

The man nods, leaving you alone in the room with Harry. He motions to the couch, inviting you to sit and you do so. He sits on the coffee table facing you.

“I know you want to see the concert, and I know the man is gone, but I have to admit, my alpha is a bit on edge right now. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I could go out there and perform if you’re not completely safe. I would really like it if you stayed in this room and watched the concert on the TV over there. I promise to get you and your friends tickets to another show, alright?”

You’re taken aback by this, surprised by how much he seems to care about you, a random fan he’s never met before. And knowing that his alpha was triggered by what happened to the point where it’s still uneasy is a pretty big deal. That normally doesn’t happen with strangers. Sarah was no longer worried, and the alpha security guards were completely fine the second they caught the man.

So why was Harry’s alpha still calling the shots? It would make sense if you were partners, or at the very least, friends. Maybe Harry does truly care that deeply about all of his fans. That must be it. Because it certainly can’t be you in particular. There’s nothing special about you, other than being a damsel in distress and nearly derailing his show.

He must see the confusion on your face and continues, “Jada will be here in a moment, and she’ll hang out with you. Anything you need, just ask her. I won’t see you after the show, I leave right from the stage, but talk to Jada and Jeff and they’ll make sure you get home safely.”

“Okay, thank you so much for everything,” you reply.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Y/N, I am so very sorry something like this happened to you here. I always want this to be a fun, safe place for everyone.”

“It’s not your fault. Please, don’t feel bad. It is completely that knothead’s fault. You guys are the ones that saved me.”

He reaches forward and places his hand on top of yours, just for a second. Your hand tingles as he pulls away, like a bolt of electricity had just gone through it. You meet his eyes, and see he felt it too. You stare at each other, frozen for a moment, until there’s another knock at the door.

Harry stands quickly and introduces you to Jada as she joins you on the couch.

“Okay, I have to go before Jeff kills me. Y/N please give Jada your contact info so we can get those new tickets to you. Get some safe,” he says.

“Thank you, break a leg,” you reply and a second later he’s gone.

You talk to Jada throughout the start of the show, smiling as she lets you in on some behind the scenes info about the tour. After a few songs she asks if there’s anything she can get you.

“I actually have kind of a weird favor. I was supposed to come with a friend, but she couldn’t come at the last minute. I promised to send her videos and she’s going to be suspicious if I don’t have any. Would you be able to take a couple videos from the pit? I just don’t want to have to explain what happened. At least, not yet.”

“Of course, girl, I’ve got you. I’ll go get a couple of the next songs. Are you okay in here? There’s security outside the door so no one will be able to get in.”

“Yea, I’ll be fine,” you reply with a smile.

She walks out and you sink into the couch, grateful for a few minutes alone. Everyone has been so lovely, but it’s been a lot, and you need a minute just to breathe. You close your eyes, relaxing your body, and when you’re fully calm, you smell it.

There’s another alpha scent, but not one of a person nearby. No, it’s in the fabric of the couch. And the blanket next to you. And the shirt draped over the back of the couch.

It’s Harry’s scent. And it’s amazing. So clean, and fresh, with hints of chocolate, and the forest, and something sweet. Maybe roses, you think. Definitely a hint of floral. And once you catch the scent, it’s all you can think about, like it’s wrapped you in a warm hug. You feel better than you have in hours, the stress of the day fully washing away.

Even when Jada comes back, Harry’s smell is what you focus on the most. She notices you’re quieter than before and must assume you’re just tired from everything that has happened. She goes back out towards the end of the show to grab another video and you can’t help yourself. You turn to the side, right where the shirt is, and purposely take a deep breath. It’s almost overwhelming, your omega telling you to steal the shirt so you’ll always have the delicious scent with you.

That snaps you back to reality. You need to get your omega under control. You’re just like every other fan, thirsting for the amazing Harry Styles. Get a grip, you tell your omega. He’ll never be ours, don’t get attached.

Jada comes back, the show ends, and she leads you to a car that will bring you home. She asks for your car keys and ensures someone else will grab it from the station and drop it off at your place. She rides with you back to your home, along with a security guard.

You exchange numbers during the drive and breathe a sigh of relief when your apartment building comes into view. It’s been an exhausting day, and you can’t wait for a hot shower and your comfy bed.

You thank Jada for everything and notice them waiting for you to get safely inside before driving away.

You scorch your skin in the shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and burrow under your covers.

You fall asleep that night not thinking of the horrible alpha, and the horrors of the day, but rather of green eyes, soft hands on yours, and the delicious scent that can only belong to Harry.

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, (requests), please let me know!

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[poppadom0912]

Together (I)

Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, Jay Halstead x Sibling!Reader, Will Halstead x Sibling!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, stabbing, guns, arson, drugs etc.

Summary: What was supposed to be a quick trip cleaning your dad's belongings turns into something so much more.

A/N: Posting this before the summer holiday is over for me. This is a series that I've been planning for a while so I hope your buckled in for quite the ride. Enjoyyyyy!!

Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

"Where were you this morning?"

Kelly jumped, his head snapping over to find you peering over his shoulder and into his locker. "Gosh Y/N, you scared the crap outta me."

"That doesn't answer my question." You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched your boyfriend expectantly. "I woke up in bed alone."

"What are you even doing here?" Kelly asked you, your question going over his head. "I thought you were going to Wisconsin to clean up the cabin."

"I'll answer your question when you answer mine." You shot back, not backing down. You were going to win the staredown you were currently having, even if it was against his incredible eyes that you adored with all your being.

"I'm getting the grill out today. Just made sure we had everything in case I needed to run to the store before shift." Kelly said truthfully, crossing his own arms in retaliation. "I told you this yesterday, did I not?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes when you realised that he did indeed tell you yesterday. "I came for my jacket and to give you my morning kiss which I would've given you like I usually do had you not left."

Kelly awed, his arms unfolding so he could grab your hips and bring you in for a kiss. No matter how much you wanted to hold a grudge against him, you couldn't help but melt and kiss him back.

Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders, Kelly very reluctantly pulled back. "Be safe alright? Make sure to call me when you get there."

"You'll be the only thing on my mind." You smirked, pecking his lips before reaching into his locker, taking his CFD issued jacket. "Thank you very much."

"You minx." Kelly rose his brow in surprise, shutting his locker shut as soon as you got what you needed.

"Don't let my brothers hear you call me that." You warned him, shrugging his jacket on as you did so, well aware of Kelly's eyes looking you up and down as though he was going to eat you.

"When are they meeting you up there?" Kelly asked, aware that your brothers were still working and were getting off later than you. You mentioned the other night something about them not being able to get off at the same time as you but they'd be up with you soon after.

"Fingers crossed when the sun sets if there's no traffic." You said with finality, looking down at Kelly's watch and taking note of the time. "I gotta go now but stay safe alright? I don't wanna cut my trip off short because Boden's calling me saying you got hurt or into trouble."

"Yes ma'am." Kellys saluted you, pulling you back in for another kiss before escorting you out the firehouse. "The same goes for you. It's freezing out so the roads will be icy, probably going to start snowing today as well."

"That's why I got this." You pointed at the lieutenants jacket on your shoulders, proudly showing it off. "I promise its safe return."

"I'm holding you to that." Kelly pointed at you as you walked out the app floor.

"I'll call you in a few hours lieutenant." You winked, waving at your boyfriend as you approached your car.

"I'll be looking forward to it firefighter."

*****

You hated how Kelly was correct nearly all of the time.

By the time you reached the cabin that was now in Will's possession due to him being the oldest Halstead after your dad's death, the frost developed into snow and was slowly stacking up.

Kelly jacket was way too thin for the snow but once you got inside and you got the heating working, all would be well.

Fumbling with the keys, you locked your car and just about managed to get into the cabin, a gust of wind pushing you inside. With tons of effort despite your job, you found it difficult to push the door close against earth's natural forces.

With a sigh, you slumped against the door once it was finally closed. It took way too much effort than what was needed.

It'd been years since you last came to visit the Cabin. The last memory you had of this place was staying one summer when Will was in high school and your two brothers teamed together to drown you in the lake nearby. Of course, they didn't let you fully drown but it was funny anyways.

The nostalgia hit you in waves as you walked around, rubbing your hands together to create some friction so you wouldn't freeze to death. It also happened that the last time you were here it was with your mother when she was alive and well.

Oh how you missed the simpler times in life.

For some reason, the motor was refusing to start up and before you could kick it, you heard the front door burst open, a gust of cold air following that you could feel going through the entire cabin.

Frowning, you glanced down at the time on your phone. Unless Jay and Will got off early without telling you, no one should be here.

With your guard fully up, you silently crept through the hallways, looking for anything to protect yourself but came up with nothing. You knew a few things about self defense from both Kelly and Jay and there was also no way you could scream to get attention because no one would hear you out here.

Gripping your fingers around your phone, you were seconds away from tapping Jay's contact when you were stopped by the barrel of a gun at the back of you head.

You immediately froze at the motion, not even trying to risk anything. There could be several things happening but before you could try to escape, you had to evaluate the situation first.

"Listen man, I don't want any trouble." You said warily, holding your hands up to show what you guessed was a man that you had nothing in your possession but your phone. "If you want money, it's in my car. If you want somewhere to hide out, stay here. If you need any help, I'm a firefighter so I'm sure we can figure something out."

"i've got exactly what I want." The man's voice sent chills down your spine, recognition flooding you despite not having seen his face. This was the voice of the man that haunted you for years now and no amount of therapy could erase the permanent scars in your mind and on your body. "And she's not going anywhere."

And before you could reply, you were struck on the back of your head and was met with nothing but darkness.

*****

Coming back to your senses, you were expecting to wake up in your bed with Kelly and everything that happened was nothing but another nightmare but upon not being able to move your arms or legs, reality struck.

This was all very real and you were about to experience something short from hell.

"Jackson Murray." Your throat was hoarse as you spoke, addressing the man that sat opposite you with the proudest smirk on his lips.

You were currently tied to the heater that you failed to turn on, your feet and hands bound but several pairs of zip ties to ensure you wouldn't escape.

"Y/N Halstead." Jackson said with mirth in his eyes. He looked exactly the same since you last saw him, that scar you inflicted still going across his face, going from his left eyebrow all the way down to his upper lip.

"I take it prison wasn't your scene." You tried shifting but only groaned, finding that you movement was very minimal and if you did try to move, it would only cause you pain.

"It was horrific." He groaned, dragging his hand down his face as he reminisced what was supposed to be life in jail. Currently, he was sitting on a dining room chair which gave him leverage against you, allowing him to look down on you. "In all fairness, it taught me a lot."

"Is that so?" You humored him, your eyes flickering around the room, looking for a way to escape or to make a distraction. Your head was absolutely killing you and if you guessed right, you had a wound at the back of your head and you most definitely had a concussion.

"Not too much science but I learnt so much from other inmates, it was fascinating!" Jackson gushed, his smile eerie as he went into story about all the violent and gruesome things he learnt, explaining that he would test some of them out on you.

You shivered, blocking out his voice as you only now realised your lack of clothing. Jackson must've changed you while you were out because you no longer wore Kelly's lieutenant jacket or your shirt. Instead, you only sported your bra and jeans.

You had no idea what he did with your clothes but no matter how much your appearance was a concern to you, you also had concern for the man that was approaching you with a knife in his hand.

Within seconds, he was crouching down so he could be eye level with you, the tip of the blade nicking your neck as he spoke to you in a whisper. "I've been waiting for this day for years. Dreaming of this exact moment every night since I was arrested."

Before you retort back or even spit in his face, you could hear a very faint door being slammed shut from outside. For a nanosecond you were confused as to who on earth would be out here but then you remembered.

Your already built up dread was now drowning you as you remembered that your brothers were coming up here later today but with no record of the time and from your period of unconsciousness, you totally forgot.

Internally, you were cursing out your brothers. From the corner of your eyes, you could see out the window that it was still bright out which meant they got off work earlier than planned.

Opening your mouth to shout out a warning, Jacksons hand clamped down on your lips, his knife still at your neck but digging into your skin further. You could feel the blood slowly dripping down the base of your neck and going down your chest, your groans muted by your captors palm.

"Y/N, you here?!" Will shouted as he entered the cabin but you could only hear his footsteps as he ventured in. "Your car isn't out front and Kelly said you definitely left this morning."

Will's voice got clearer and louder the closer he came to the living room. Panic was now flooding your bloodstream but you were completely immobile with no way of telling him to get out and run.

Turning the corner, Will wasn't expecting anything when he casually passed the living room but the sight he was welcomed with was anything but welcoming.

Before he could move, let alone react and say anything, Will was bashed on the back of his head by a baseball bat in the hands of a man you thought was dead.

You screamed in Jackson's hand, tugging on your restraints as you leaned as far forward as you could, wanting to go and help your now unconscious brother.

Blood was slowly seeping out from the back of Will's head, the crimson liquid mixing with his red curls that only he inherited from your mother.

You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes at your deadly still brothers body. If it wasn't for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, you for sure would've thought he was dead.

All of a sudden, Jackson was moving away from you, allowing you to gasp as you recollected yourself. Your breathing was erratic as you watched the two men converse in whispers. With a joint effort, Will was further subdued using several zip ties around his wrists and ankles just like they did to you but instead of being restrained by the heater pipes, he was put against the table leg.

"Y/N, you remember my brother, don't you?" Jackson innocently asked you, turning around to talk to you. He was acting as if his brother didn't just knock out your brother cold.

"Ezra." You whispered, too scared to talk any louder. Both mentally and physically you were in shock from everything that was happening but you could never forget the brother duo that ruined your life.

"You guys just want me, let Will go please." You said with desperation, eyeing your oldest brother to make sure he was okay. "He has nothing to do with any of this."

"Oh but that's where you're wrong." Jackson shook his head, coming towards you and crouching down to your slumped height, brushing your loose hair with his disgusting hands. "Your brothers have everything to do with this."

And then it was in this moment you remembered that Will hadn't come alone. He mentioned that him and Jay were going to drive here together.

With wide eyes, your heart dropped when you heard the front door open again but instead of hearing a voice greet you alike to how Will did, you were met with silence.

"Watch them." Jackson ordered his younger brother before disappearing into the hallway. Hopefully Jay could use his detectiveness and figure out that something was wrong.

Keeping your lips sealed, you felt yourself shivering even more than you already were. The cold was slowly starting to get to you and you hated it.

The tension was so strong that you felt it suffocating you, your lungs tightening as it got harder to breathe. You eyed the man that everyone thought to be dead, millions of questions flooding your mind.

The gunshot scared you, making you jump out of your bones but your restraints minimised you reaction, pulling you back as you winced at the bruising around your wrists and ankles.

You felt the biggest lump in your throat at the uncertainty. Who pulled the trigger? Did anyone get hurt? You wanted nothing more than these two brothers to be dead and gone from your life but fate was clearly having its fun.

Soon enough, some of your questions were answered when Jay was pushed into the living room by Jackson. Jay was now unarmed but he was also free of any injuries making you breathe a little easier knowing at least one of your brothers were unharmed.

You easily read Jay as his eyes landed on you and Will. The green eyes that you two shared widened in disbelief and concern; looking you up and down, inspecting your half naked body and Will's limp one, you could feel his fury from across the room.

Without argument, Jay allowed himself to be restrained and due to lack of space, he was restrained on the other side of the heater. He was so close to you yet so far. The brothers ran out of zip ties though, leaving Jay's legs free meaning if he stretched himself far enough, he could reach you.

For some reason, the two brothers found this to be the best time to leave the room, disappearing into the cabin somewhere leaving the Halstead siblings alone.

"Jay, did you shoot Jackson?" Was the first thing you asked your older brother, hoping with all your might that the disgusting man was hurt.

"It's just a graze but yeah I did." Jay answered nonchalantly, worry swimming in his eyes as he fully took in your appearance. "They didn't..."

"No, God no." You immediately shook your head, gagging at the mere thought of what Jay was suggesting. "Just a nick on my neck and something at the back of my head but otherwise, I'm all good."

You could see him relax but only ever so slightly, his eyes dragging over to Will's slumped figure. Following his line of sight, you filled him in before he could ask. "Ezra knocked him out with your old bat."

"Why the hell is Ezra alive and Jackson out of jail?" You asked Jay, desperately in need of answers but deep down, you knew Jay had no answers either.

Before Jay could say anything though, he was stopped by the brothers storming back into the living room, a mix of excitement and fury following them.

Without saying anything, they were both coming towards you.

"No, no, no." You repeated over and over, trying your hardest to get their hands off you. "Get off, get away from me!"

Jays shouts for you to be left alone fell on deaf ears, his attempts to kick either brother away failing the second a needle was plunged into the side of his neck. However, even while drugged up, Jay was relentless and tried his hardest to fight the men off you but soon enough, succumbed to whatever drug he was injected with.

You felt like crying as you couldn't do anything to help Jay. All you could do was helplessly watch and beg him to wake up but alas, nothing happened.

Using your distracted state, the brothers managed to remove you from the pipes and were now dragging you onto your feet.

Despite your weakening body, you tried as hard as you could to fight the brothers off. With their hands gripping your arms and your waist, you tried elbowing, headbutting, biting and spitting but the most damage you did was further annoy them.

Now agitated, you were shoved against Ezra's chest, his arms holding you down as Jackson did what he wanted since the day he met you all those years ago. Clenching your jaw, you screwed your eyes shut as you felt your body cry out at each blow.

You swallowed back your cries, not allowing them the pleasure to hear you in pain. That’s what got them off, hearing their victims cry and scream in agony but you wouldn’t allow that.

“Stop, stop.” You tried pushing them away but the punches kept rolling. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything, please.”

Jackson slowly pulled away, his knuckles bruised and bloodied from his attack. He had the proudest smile on his face, as if he’d just won gold in the Olympics

“I just want you to get what you deserve baby.”

[katerina-marie]

Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (Series)

Chapter 5

Gojo Satoru x Reader & (Past) Geto Suguru x Reader

Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.

WC: 11.8k (whew)

Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho), no use of y/n, vaginal sex (though not super explicit) so please avoid accordingly! More notes below.

Chapter Count: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6 (Final)

Notes: Peep the cw, because in case you missed it there will be 18+ content in this chapter. But warning, I do not have the talent to write explicitly detailed sex so it's more narrative/vaguely described. I applaud all authors that have that ability! Also, this is 99% fluff and vibes because that's what we all need, right?

P.S. If anyone recognizes where part of the title/included line is from.....no you don't and I'm sorry, not sorry lol

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

Chapter 5: Heart of None, Heart of One (Don't Be Afraid, I Feel It Too)

Neither you or Suguru were dressed for the affluence of this particular part of the city, the two of you wearing light and airy clothing to help ward off the oppressiveness of the summer sun. Names of restaurants and boutiques that you hardly recognized lined each side of the street full of ostentatious vehicles, and you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly Suguru had dragged you to a place neither of you had any real business being in. His fingers were twined through each of yours and had been since the two of you hopped off the train to begin your stroll towards a destination unknown. You weren’t sure if he was being intentionally vague with where you were going, or if Suguru had failed to think any further than necessary and inform you of your day’s plans. 

Men and their inability to consider five minutes ahead of themselves for anyone else’s sake. 

You passed a building with black bricks and golden writing emblazoning its name above the door, and you felt your mouth begin to water as you recognized that the style of the restaurant lended itself to your favorite foreign food. A certainly more upscale version of it anyway, if the valet’s podium and immaculately dressed patrons were any indication. 

“We should come here one day, Suguru,” you told him wistfully, inhaling deep the scent of rich food before it faded from your nose as your steps took you further and further away. Suguru huffed a noncommittal chuckle and gave you an incredulous look of question. 

“Sure, I’ll just swipe Satoru’s credit card when he isn’t looking and we’ll have ourselves a night out.” His voice was full of sarcastic humor and you rolled your eyes at him, because of course you were aware that your meager student allowances couldn’t afford such luxury, nor would Satoru be willing to part with his card without an invitation to join what would have been a date night for the two of you. The idea of it was fun to imagine in the least, and you filed the name of the restaurant away in the back of your mind for an unspecified day in the future somewhere. 

“So what are we doing here?” you asked, peering around the city as you both came to a crosswalk and minded the traffic currently flowing through it. “I can’t say that I have a suspicion, and I would like to enjoy the last afternoon of the weekend together if you don’t have something already planned.”

Suguru was quiet as he glanced up and down the street once the vehicles cleared the road, and he tugged at your hand to spur you into movement once the signal had been given to ensure your safe crossing.

“We are having to make a quick stop to retrieve something,” he said, intentionally avoiding your narrowed eyes by keeping himself one step ahead of you. You’d yank your arm back and hold your ground in a juvenile display of defiance at his reticence, but you didn’t favor being run over in the middle of the street, nor were you confident of your victory in strength should it be put up against his; you’d count on being pulled along no matter how hard you dug your heels in. 

“And what is it that we are retrieving?” You grew annoyed at Suguru’s reluctance to speak anymore than what was barely necessary, and now that the two of you were again on the safety of the sidewalks, you had half a mind to start testing his patience as he was doing yours. Your boyfriend must have been able to pick up on the change in your disposition, and he turned to you with a weary sigh as the two of you came to a stop. 

“Satoru called me earlier,” Suguru admitted, and your face dropped into distaste, mouth open to offer your dissent for whatever moronic task your boyfriend’s best friend has saddled the two of you with, but he shot you a warning glare that stayed your tongue. “He’s still on that assignment, but he forgot to finish up his reports for the last one and Yaga’s going to have his ass if he doesn’t turn them in first thing tomorrow. I told him we’d take care of it this once.” 

You scoffed, offended disbelief fueling your ire for the white-haired sorcerer, and you fixed your withering look on Suguru.

“You coddle him,” you hissed, promptly snatching your hand from his and marching forward on your own even though you hadn’t the faintest clue to where you were. The surrounding buildings were no longer fancy restaurants and expensive retailers but instead towering, dark-windowed monoliths with impressive double glass doors at their entrance. Still swanky, but more unassuming. 

“I’m helping,” Suguru argued, jogging up to your side to keep pace with you. “Friends do that for each other.” 

“I mean, yeah they do, but this feels more like Satoru is intentionally being lazy, unable to deign himself to possibly do his own work and would rather put it off to the less fortunate of us.” Your tone was scathing and your words mean for meanness sake, even if they held a scant bit of truth, and from the look on your boyfriend’s face he didn’t appreciate the disparaging of his best friend’s character. You supposed Satoru could now be considered your friend as well, now that nearly a year and a half had passed since you met your significant other’s “other”, but it had been slow building between you and Satoru, if not for the complete opposite personalities and upbringings you each had then for becoming accustomed to sharing Suguru. 

“Cut him some slack,” Suguru said, his expression knowing and slightly irritated, but his voice for you was softer than it was moments ago, and he brought you to a halt with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not ignoring the fact that Satoru is not the most apt student when it comes to his paperwork or always considerate of other people’s time, but he has a full plate and even heavier burden attached to his name, so I’ll let it slide sometimes.” 

You weren’t sure if you’d agree, but you didn’t want to taint the afternoon with Suguru just because of your disdain for Satoru’s lack of planning, so you gave him a half-hearted shrug and glanced over his shoulder at the building the two of you came to a stop in front of.

“This it?” 

Suguru nodded and took your hand again to lead you through the frosted glass doors serving as the entrance. “He has an apartment here for when he wants solitude, so we’ll just pop in to grab the reports and then be on our way. We’ll stop for lunch after, how about that?” 

The noise of affirmation you made lacked enthusiasm, mostly because you had been thoroughly chastised by your boyfriend and not because you didn’t want to share a meal out with him, but Suguru was undeterred and you turned your attention to the details of the front lobby. The high walls were painted alabaster and arched over certain hallways you guessed lead to various amenities. The slightly darker beige floors gleamed under rich lighting, leaving the forest green and muted mahogany fabrics of plush looking couches and other luxe decor to stand out in their superiority. You and Suguru continued through an archway and came upon an older man situated at a stately wood desk sandwiched between floor-to-ceiling glass doors that prohibited your entrance. You bristled at the idea of having to convince someone to allow you through to somewhere the two of you didn’t look to belong, or worse, have to stand by the desk as other residents came and went while Suguru beckoned Satoru to pick up his phone and petition you two through. However, to your shock, Suguru simply smiled and waved at the gentleman—who returned his greeting in kind—and he had the glass doors sliding open with a touch of a button just in time for the two of you to walk through them.

“A silver spoon Satoru does use,” you commented wryly. The two of you stepped into an open elevator, and you were pleased to see a stifled grin on Suguru’s face. 

“That I won’t deny,” he said, pressing the button for an obnoxiously high floor. You chattered between yourselves about lunch options and other plans for the rest of the day whilst traveling up, and your arrival to Satoru’s floor was announced with a pleasant trilling of a bell. As you walked down a hallway, you took notice of the distance between the doors of each dwelling, marking the considerable size of each one. Suguru came to a stop at the very end of the hall and pressed a series of numbers into a shiny keypad before motioning you through the now opened door. 

Satoru’s apartment was as beautiful as you imagined, with its sprawling living area and enormous windows the first thing to appear after making it through the entrance, and then an extensive gourmet kitchen was located on the left. There were a couple other hallways you assumed lead to various rooms, and you had a thought to explore (snoop) when you felt a hand at your back.

“Satoru should have some sweets in his fridge,” Suguru said, dropping a brief kiss at your temple and then another at your cheek as he brushed by you. “I’m going to his office right quick if you want to help yourself. It’s the least he can offer.” 

That brought a grin to your face, and you immediately turned towards the kitchen as Suguru’s footsteps faded in the opposite direction. Satoru’s fridge was nearly twice your height and the stainless steel was polished so perfectly that you could nearly see your reflection in it. It was all so grandiose, but the excitement immediately abated when you opened the fridge and saw nothing but a couple bags of sweets and water bottles taking up a minute amount of its expansive capacity. You grabbed one of each and brought them to the large island across from the fridge and tucked into your snack. As you munched, you let your eyes drift from space to space, everything meticulously placed and artfully decorated. Though you couldn’t help but notice the absence of anything that made it personal. There were no photos or cookbooks or trinkets of any kind. The copious amounts of furnishings and state of the art appliances all made up an impressive looking home anyone would be thrilled to make use of, but there was not one sign of usage or life that would indicate that Satoru did anything of the sort. The thought humbled your opinion of him a touch, and the quiet melancholy of his apartment made the sweet in your mouth taste oddly of cardboard.

How lonely. 

Now, years later, as you marveled up at the building that scraped the sky, you wondered if Satoru was sitting in the quiet of his apartment cutting a lonesome figure and feeling as such. 

You had taken most of the morning to scour the school grounds in pursuit of him, but no evidence had turned up to support his stay there. Megumi had confirmed it when you ran into him in your frenzied search and mentioned that Satoru had texted him to cancel their end-of-week training because he’d be off campus. The thought of having to transport yourself all the way to that part of the city where his apartment was located felt daunting in your exhaustion, but when you closed your eyes or let your mind wander, the images of Suguru and Satoru walking away from you after turning their backs superimposed over each other and sent a new wave of panic over you every time. 

So you cleaned yourself up the best you could in the least amount of time you were willing to give, and then set out on a train. After that, the walk from the station to his apartment was about ten minutes, but you had only been there once, and you had started to worry when recognition of the area still hadn’t struck. You were only half certain you had found the correct building until you made your way inside the lobby and found familiarity in the arch of the walls and luxuriousness of the furnishings. Ahead, still seated at the same wooden desk, was the gentleman from the one time you had visited with Suguru. Age had greyed his hair and added lines under his eyes, but you recognized him the same. As you walked up to his desk with a nervous smile, you hoped you looked more put together than you felt, and you had just opened your mouth to try and convince him to let you up when he grinned at you. 

“For Gojo, right?” 

You were taken aback at the friendliness in his voice and the expectant way he looked up at you from where he was seated, and you were sure your mouth had flopped open inelegantly. “Uh, yes, but how did you—,” 

“Years ago, he left me a photo of you and a man with black hair and explicit instructions to let either of you up at any time without questions asked.” The gentleman glanced down at his desk and you could just make out his hand scribbling at a large notepad. When he looked back up at you, his gaze was inquisitive. “I just barely remember you from the one time you came with him—the boy appeared often enough that I recognized him—but I haven’t seen either of you since.” There wasn’t any judgment in his voice, just simple observation, but the whole encounter was picking at the fraying threads of your already frail emotions. 

“Yes,” you bit out, swallowing to clear the hoarseness of your voice, “it’s certainly been, uhm, a long time and…” There wasn’t anything you could come up with to fit into a brief enough explanation, and thankfully the gentleman picked up on that fact. 

“Would you like me to call up to him and let him know you’re here?” He offered, his hand already drifting towards a phone on the edge of his desk. You shook your head and flailed your hands in an effort to dissuade him from doing so. 

“No, no, please. I’m…surprising him.”  

The man smiled gently and gestured with his head towards the glass doors as he opened them with a push of a button. “Off you go then.” 

You gave him a hurried thanks and rushed off through the doors before you could lose what little courage remained in you, and when the elevator shut just after you stepped through it, you leaned back against the wall of it to take in large mouthfuls of air. Satoru was definitely home, and you maybe had two minutes to compose yourself into something presentable before you were face to face with him. You took it as a positive sign that he hadn’t immediately revoked your extended invitation into his building (unless he had simply forgotten to and now you had another idea to fret at) and you hoped that when you knocked at his door he would neither ignore you entirely or answer and then proceed to slam it shut in your face. If you made it far enough that he welcomed you in, you had absolutely no idea what you were to say to him, and the pinging of the elevator bell signaling your arrival to his floor made it clear you were running out of time to come up with anything. 

Your steps on the tile echoed loudly in the empty hallway, and you were positive it was your tired mind that made them sound reminiscent of Satoru’s name. By the time you came to his door, it was ringing in your ears and beating to the same rhythm of your pulse, and you wondered if Satoru could hear it from wherever in his apartment he remained hidden from you. The stress of it had you wanting to linger outside to come up with a speech or some kind of plan before you knocked on his door, but the thought that he could sense you waiting—hesitating—drove you deeper into embarrassment, so you lifted your hand to knock your knuckles against the door without a second consideration. The time it took for him to answer left your thoughts to scramble. 

Would he look at you with the same anger he surely saw reflected in your own eyes just hours prior? You figured you both had a right to feel such a way, but whereas you had hurled word after word of condemnation at him without ceasing, regardless of their truth or lack thereof, he hadn’t been given a moment to offer scant more than a stuttered reply. Was it presumptuous to have the hope that he would repay you in kind? That he would offer what you hadn’t and listen to what you had to say? Never again did you want to live with the regret of last words unspoken.

The beeping of his door unlocking snagged your attention, and you inhaled sharply when the knob began to turn. Through a small crack in the door, you saw Satoru peer his head around it, just offering you a sliver of a singular blue eye and the glimpse of a closed off expression on his face. You tangled your fingers together in the hope he didn’t see them shaking, and you gave him the barest of contrite smiles.

“May I come in?” 

Satoru didn’t hesitate to give a single nod of his head and you took a step back when he pushed open the door wide enough for you to walk through, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ as you passed by him. You didn’t wait for him to continue further into his apartment, eager to get out of the small entryway and into the openness of his living space if only so you could feel slightly less confined. In a quick glance around, you noticed that Satoru’s apartment looked nearly identical to how it did the one and only time you visited it. There was still a museum-esque quality to the cleanliness of it, but you could see a half-full glass of water on the island in his kitchen, and you had spied his pair of black shoes by the door next to where you had toed yours off. 

The susurration of his house shoes on the wood floor could be heard coming up behind you, and you turned slowly to face him. You took in his casual clothes, a dark grey sweater and navy lounge pants, and noticed him doing the same to your similar but more feminine outfit. When your eyes met, it pained you to see how his were guarded, lacking their usual brightness and enthusiasm, and you knew it was somewhat your fault. 

“I should have let you talk more,” you blurted, head cleared of any logical thought. “I was within my right to be angry with you, but I should have heard you out, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” 

Satoru’s expression eased and you wrung your hands. “I want to respect your space. I’m willing to give that to you, but I’m afraid of leaving things unsaid and—,” 

You were horrified when your eyes began to sting and the inside of your nose burned. You flicked your focus down to the floor in the hopes that not looking at him would keep you composed enough to get the rest of your words out. “If you’re willing, I’d like to talk this out with you. I would hate for things to end the way they did.” 

When you looked back up at him, his eyes were wide, and Satoru shuffled forward to reach a hand out to press against the back of your arm. “Of course,” he said, his voice so emphatically eager that it panged your heart. “Of course I’ll listen to you.” 

The pressure of his hand guided you towards the ample seating in his living room, and the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sofa placed in front of a massive entertainment system. Satoru sat just far away enough that two of you wouldn’t touch, but he laid out his arm along the back of the sofa, turned on his hip, and leaned forward slightly on his thigh so he could face you. You mirrored his position but kept your hands in your lap. 

“I don’t hate you. I never could,” you breathed out, and a part of you died inside when relief slackened Satoru’s features and his shoulders lowered as tension bled out from them. “I was angry, and maybe even felt a little betrayed, but it wasn’t you I hated.” 

There must have been a stricken look on your face, because his hand that rested on the back of the sofa lifted and hovered in the air for a moment before he moved it close enough that he could just graze his fingertips along the top of your arm. 

“I think I hated him. I hated Suguru in that split second.” The words felt heavy and disjointed in your mouth, not quite understood by your brain, but you felt palpable liberation once they were out. Satoru kept his eyes on you attentively, and you were powerless to the words that spilled from your tongue. 

“I hated him for what he did. I hated that he left me, and I hated that he chose to speak with you one last time instead of me. I hated that you had to kill him, and that we have to wake up everyday to live in the aftermath of it.” You were interrupted by a hiccuping cry that forced its way through your teeth, and when you looked up at Satoru helplessly, his hands shot out to take yours into his own. 

“But not you, I would never hate you,” you said once you had regained your composure, “and I would like to hear what you have to say. To help me understand what you were going through and why you made the choice to keep what Suguru said a secret until now. I’d like us to be completely understanding of the other, with the intention of being able to move forward.” 

Feeling much like you had just finished a sprint, you drew in a few deep breaths to steady the racing of your heart and calm the adrenaline running through your body. Satoru didn’t look angry or upset. He had an open, albeit cautious, look on his face and he studied your hands in his grasp momentarily before gently releasing them, and you both withdrew your hands to let them rest on your respective laps. 

“It was panic,” he started, pausing to meet your eyes. “I was so panicked that evening, about what I had just done and how I was supposed to reveal that to you. I could barely think straight enough to tell you I killed him, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of having to relay to you what Suguru said when I could hardly make sense of it myself.” 

You watched Satoru closely as he wiped his hands down over his legs and you both heard and felt the stuttered breath he pushed out from deep in his chest.

 “I’m not saying that to excuse my behavior, but it felt like the easiest thing to do for myself at that moment, and I regret it. If I could go back…well, I don’t actually know what I would have done.” Satoru inched a little closer to you and raised a questioning brow. “Would you have been okay if I had told you that he had said something, but couldn’t yet share it with you? Would have it been better to tell you everything he said, but warned you that I didn’t have the capacity to explore the implications of it right then with you? Or—god—I should have told you at any point between then and now.” 

The ideas Satoru was presenting caught you by surprise. You hadn’t ever really considered before what you had wanted to hear in the moments when your entire world was collapsing around you. Surely you would have wanted to know, but the anticipation of waiting to hear what those words would have been had you chosen the first option probably would have driven you to madness. In regards to the second, knowing what Suguru had said would have prevented the whole mess the two of you were in now. However, knowing yourself, you very well might have fled the school like you did to avoid discussing things with Satoru once he was ready, keen on never once touching such a topic for the rest of your life, and who knows what outcome would have resulted from that. And him revealing what Suguru said any time after that day and between now would have mostly likely played out the same way it did last night.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, and you couldn’t help but let out a tired laugh. “Either alternative has its merits and its corresponding negatives. In the future, I think open communication would be best, but for things past I don’t see much point in dwelling on what should have been.” 

Satoru nodded, seemingly agreeing with what you had said. You chewed your lip, considering the weight of the question you wanted to ask him before ultimately deciding that he deserved the chance to let himself be heard. 

“How have you been?” Your inquiry had his mouth opening to respond, but he was silent in the aftermath, and you assumed that he needed time to condense his thoughts into words. 

You empathized with that particular plight.  

“Tired,” he said finally, solemnly, and you moved closer towards him until your knees knocked against each other. “I would give anything to have a night’s rest where I didn’t dream about killing my best friend.” This time, you reached out your hand to grip his fingers in yours, and his answering smile was full of gratitude. “Or have a nightmare where you hate me,” he added, squeezing your hand to balm the sting of his words. 

The two of you were silent after that, each of you taking turns glancing at one another and then back at your tangled hands before focusing on anywhere else in the room. However, there was a collective sense of expectation hanging above you both, and you had a good idea of what topic was waiting to be broached. 

“Satoru,” you murmured, biting down on the inside of your cheek as he lifted his head to listen to you. There was trepidation in the way he held himself, and you wondered if he anticipated what you were going to say next. “I tried to kiss you.” 

He was rapt in his attention on you, his face giving away nothing as to what he was feeling, but he fiddled with your fingers and ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist. He ducked his head just barely, and when his hair shifted over his forehead, it was just enough to conceal his eyes from you. “You did.” 

Satoru’s evasion grated you, but you set aside your frustration to focus on what you were trying to convey to him, to get him to understand what you couldn’t even quite wrap your head around fully. 

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me because of what Suguru said.” His head snapped up and his brows furrowed at your words, but you kept going before he had a chance to interrupt. “I think you probably have an idea about what I feel for you, but I don’t expect you to reciprocate just because you might have some misguided sense of duty or responsibility towards me, and I can forget about that near-kiss if that’s—,” 

“I want you,” Satoru said on a exhale, and he looked to be fighting a bashful grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Your noise of surprise filled the heady silence following his declaration, and you felt as though the two of you teetered on the edge of some great precipice. 

A quiet “oh,” was all you could get out, breathless in a mounting giddiness, and he chuckled at whatever flush warmed your cheeks before his features smoothed out into something more solemn. 

“I do,” he insisted, and you could sense the ‘but’ following his statement and it made all the butterflies that had erupted in your chest fall leadened into your stomach, “but I can’t help feeling a little…unsettled about it, maybe? Not in a bad way necessarily, never with you—,” 

Satoru stammered, an overwhelmed breath heaving his shoulders, and you watched him with a pang of sympathy as he struggled to grasp at the words clearly evading him. “I don’t want you to think I feel entitled to you, and I don’t feel like I’m betraying Suguru by wanting you. I don’t even think I need his permission or anything like that. In fact, he seemed to give it in his own twisted way that night, and it’s just…you were his, once, and now you’re…” 

He trailed off, at a loss for the proper words to adequately explain a concept you both seemed to wrestle with, and the look he gave you was helpless and beseeching in a way that was delightfully captivating to you: eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and if his gaze could be anymore adoring you’d melt into the fabric of his fine linen couch. 

What was previously off limits had become an alluring possibility. A person who had always occupied a strictly friendly role had begun to appear in a way not thought of before. It was overwhelming, exciting, terrifying in what it could mean to want someone who had once been unobtainable, who you had not once considered for yourself before the loss of someone precious to both of you. But Suguru was gone now, and what more could be owed to the two of you than indulging in a shared happiness?

You giggled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that was surely about to overtake your face, and you tugged on Satoru’s hands to pull him in close to you. 

“Don’t be afraid,” you whispered, your voice light and playful while the blue of his eyes danced and his cheeks went round in elation, “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Later, as you contemplated your existence in the quiet sanctuary of your room, you would berate yourself for not taking the opportunity to kiss Satoru senseless. Alas, you had remained dutiful to your mutual agreement to let the enormity of the morning settle before getting carried away with frenzied touches and the mingling of panted breaths. Instead, the two of you stayed seated on his couch for another hour, close in the way you had both drifted to lean against the other while chatting idly about anything ordinary. 

You had taken moments to gently lift strands of hair from his eyes, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his focus couldn’t decide whether to fix on your face or follow the movement of your hand. When you had later regaled him with a forgotten tale from your time abroad, Satoru had spent his time listening by swirling a finger over the top of your kneecap before letting it drift just slightly over your thigh so he could squeeze it gently. The pressure had you stuttering over your words, and you used the increased need to jump from your skin as an excuse to leap from the couch and beg for a glass of water. Satoru smirked at you in that annoyingly smug, but persistently charming habit of his, and had simply sauntered off to his kitchen to leave you to follow in his wake. 

When the afternoon sun began to push shadows further into the depths of his apartment, you begrudgingly announced your intended departure, pointing out to Satoru the exhaustion that clung to you both when he began to protest. A much-needed nap was in order, and he only surrendered his disagreement when you let out an exaggerated yawn. He followed you to the door with your sleeve caught between two of his fingers. The two of you stared at each other after you had slipped on your shoes, neither quite ready to bid the first goodbye. You eventually took the initiative to rock onto the tips of your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you squeezed him to you. Satoru arms circled your waist and after nudging his nose against the top of your head, you heard him breathe in deeply before letting it out in a long exhale, and the yearning of it made you ache. 

You had to pry yourself from him, and you didn’t turn to look back as you walked down the hallway lest you lose any remaining self control and skip your way back to Satoru. It was only once you crossed the threshold of the elevator that you heard the click of his door closing shut. If you had a dopey look on your face as you made your way home, evidenced by the knowing grin on the mouth of the gentleman working the door in the lobby, then who were you to deny it?

As you lay in your bed, huddled under blankets and your head cushioned by pillows while waiting for the swiftness of sleep to weigh down your eyes, you stared at a couple of pictures now decorating a small cork board hanging above your desk. None of them contained a singular person more present than the others and were all full of various friends and toothy grins. For once, the appearance of black hair and pierced ears didn’t evoke a dull throb in your chest at a future lost, but instead welcomed a feeling of contented nostalgia for memories treasured. When your eyes started to flutter and you sensed that your battle against sleep was coming to an end, the sight of brilliant blue from the corner of one photo held your fading attention and beckoned the prospect of enduring happiness by a relationship newly minted. 

————————————————

A dreary midmorning wasn’t something that could keep you cooped up on a Saturday free of obligation, and in an endeavor to make the most of your spare time, you busied yourself with errands in the city. If you found yourself standing in line outside the building of your favorite sweet shop, you would insist it was only to fill your own belly. Any extras that made it into your bag would surely serve as a snack over the rest of the weekend and not linger in your room in the hopes a certain white-haired man would make an appearance and find them. 

The thought of Satoru had you reaching for your phone as you shuffled another step further in line. You had texted Satoru a simple ‘good morning’ right before leaving your room then promptly threw the device into the bottom of your bag to be forgotten until after your errands. Otherwise, you would have worried yourself beyond what was considered healthy about whether or not that message presumed too much in light of yesterday’s breakthrough. 

Maybe overkill would lend itself to your passions too. 

To your dismay, your phone remained disappointingly devoid of new messages, but the sudden appearance of small raindrops on your screen took your attention before you could waste more time wishing it would flash with Satoru’s name. While the sky looked quite grey in your perusal of it, the drops never fell faster or increased in size while you waited for your turn to step into the shop, and you hoped the weather would stay its course until you returned home. Because you, in your distraction, had forgotten to snag your umbrella as you scurried out the door that morning. Instead of dwelling on your possible misfortune, you gave a cursory glance at the shop’s menu board sitting by the door and when you were nearly halfway through reading it, a shadow came over you. 

“Dessert for breakfast again?” 

You jerked your head towards the familiar voice and came face to face with Satoru. He hovered close enough to you so that the large umbrella he carried could shelter both him and yourself from the faint pattering of rain, and you met his beaming smile with one of your own. 

“Satoru! What are you doing here?” His arrival wasn’t at all expected, but you drank in the sight of him no less, pleased to see him in casual clothes instead of his uniform and sporting a black coat to ward off the last of the morning chill. 

“You know, just out and about,” he offered, and mischievousness made the corners of his mouth twitch. You suspected his eyes would twinkle just the same if you could see them through his blindfold. 

“Right,” you drew out, not quite sure if you believed that he just so happened upon you by chance, but you were too preoccupied with the fact he was standing in front of you again to question it any further. “Are you busy? Or do you have time to join me?” 

He was quick to nod, and you reached out to wrap your hand around his bicep when someone cleared their throat pointedly from behind. You jolted, heat flushing your neck and cheeks when you realized that there was a large gap in between you and the door to the shop, and you scurried forward. Satoru beat you to the door, swinging it open for you before you had a chance, and you ducked in while he sat his umbrella off to the side. 

You came to a stop a reasonable distance from the person in front of you and crossed your arms with a small huff as you pretended to study the variety of different sweets sitting in their display cases. Satoru’s coat brushed against your back as he came up behind you, and you prayed he didn’t notice the shiver that shook your shoulders when he leaned down to whisper right by your ear. 

“Distracted?” he asked, voice deeply flirtatious, and a scent a bit spicier than the mild soap you recall him smelling of wafted to your nose and made your thoughts hazy. 

“Nope,” you said as casually as you could manage, trying your best to make a mental note of what options you wanted to order so that you didn’t look like a bumbling fool when it was your turn. His answering chuckle was not only heard, but felt against your back. 

“You sure about that?” 

You whipped your head to the side to glare at him out of the corner of your eye, and your cheek nearly made contact with the tip of his nose. “Positive.” 

There would never be any certainty with his eyes hidden, but you swore you could feel his gaze on your lips, and if you ignored the thought and turned your attention back to what was in front of you, it was only because there was nothing you could do about it in a crowded little sweets shop. 

Thankfully—begrudgingly—it was your turn to order, and you stepped away from Satoru and approached the counter while taking in a much needed deep breath. He didn’t stray far from you, however, and you were conscious of how he lingered at your side while you ordered a couple things for yourself and one or two for Nanami in exchange for the few times he had bought you something from the bakery. 

You were just about to pay for your portion when Satoru came up and bumped you aside with his hip and a smirk on his face, and you watched with mild horror as the employee set down a bag of sweets nearly bulging in its fullness. 

“You have a problem,” you commented warily, imagining the amount of sugar in that bag alone and feeling phantom pain in your teeth. You eyed Satoru as he placed down his card to pay for both orders. 

“If you say so.” His shrug was light hearted and drenched in boyish charm, and you shook your head at him. Before he could find any more opportunities to indulge random acts of chivalry, you swiped your bag off the counter and made haste for the exit, pausing only to throw a wink over your shoulder as you stepped outside the door. You barely caught his indignant protest as he finished up his transaction but paid it no mind as you bent down to grab his umbrella and trotted off down the sidewalk. You only made it to a cross walk a couple yards down and had to come to a stop before he was jogging up to your side. 

“Rude,” Satoru pouted, sidling up next to you to slip the opened umbrella from your hand. 

“I can’t let people think I willingly associate myself with someone who has the taste buds of a child.” You giggled and snuck your hand in the slim space between his side and his arm to curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. Something fluttered pleasantly in your belly when the action softened the deepening frown on his face. 

“Not all of us can have such sophisticated palettes,” he grumbled, but you could see the hint of a smile on his cheeks, so you leaned just a little further into his side. The delicate kiss he dropped onto your temple had you choking down any retort you were prepared to give him back, and the two of you stood in shy silence until the traffic signal changed in your favor. 

“Follow me to the school?” you asked, already in motion by the time the words left your mouth, and the answering look Satoru gave you made it clear that he never intended anything else. 

————————————————

Twenty minutes later had the two of you back at the school and seated on Satoru’s coat under the large tree nestled in the corner of the campus training grounds.

“Leave my bag alone,” you hissed, slapping at the wandering hand Satoru kept trying to sneak into your own stash of sweets. 

“I wanted to try one of yours. They’re different,” he whined. He stretched over your lap in an attempt to grab said bag from where you had moved it to your other side, but you stopped his progress with a hand on his chest. You pushed back against him until he was seated again. 

“No, what’s left are mine and the ones I bought for Nanami.”

“Nanami?” he asked in offended disbelief. “And you didn’t think to get any for me?”

“I’m surprised they aren’t already in your bag, Satoru. I think you bought the whole store,” you said, feeling a little sick to your stomach when you took note of the dwindling size of his own purchase. He scoffed in disapproval and hunched down further against the tree the two of you were resting against. His antics had your eyes rolling, but you went ahead and pulled one of your treats out from the bag as you had intended to do before he decided to try and pilfer them on his own. 

“Here,” you told him, feigning the exasperation in your voice. You held the treat out in your hand, expecting him to take it from you with his own, but Satoru—with uncovered eyes gleaming—leaned forward and ate the snack right from your fingers. You had a brief second to register the heat of his lips and the way his teeth had just grazed your skin before he was sitting back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Tasty,” he said, looking all too pleased with himself, and all you could do was sit there with your heart pounding. The thought of kissing Satoru had been plaguing your mind since even before the two of you had fought, and now, when his lips were flushed pink and there were crystals of sugar caught on a corner of them, you were weak in your resolve. 

You curled your fingers into the neck of his shirt and pulled him in to meet you, eyes already closing so you didn’t scare yourself out of the idea if there was a shocked look on his face. Your lips met his with an urgency, but you were mindful not to clash teeth or press too hard, and you felt marginally better when Satoru knocked his nose against yours in order to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. His chilled fingertips were a shock to your skin when they settled on the edge of your cheek and under your jaw, and he hummed pleasantly into the kiss when he felt you jump. Satoru’s other arm came to wrap around your back, and his fingers dug into your shirt when you used the tip of your tongue to swipe away any remaining sugar on his lips. 

You were vaguely aware of Satoru pressing closer to you, inching you back incrementally, but you were too lost in the feel of his mouth moving against yours and slipping your arms up and around his neck to pay much mind to it. So when you felt yourself falling back against the ground with Satoru’s hand bracing the back of your head it didn’t trigger the urge to stop, especially not when his free hand landed heavily in the dirt next to your head so he could lower himself down and chase after your lips. However, you could only avoid the cold wet of the ground seeping through your collar for so long, not to mention the fact you two were in public, and you ducked your chin slightly to break away from Satoru. 

“It’s unlikely,” you murmured, feeling him trail his mouth over your cheek to press a kiss just below your ear, “but any of our students—or our peers—could walk by at any given moment.” 

The noise of disagreement he made tickled the skin under your ear that he was nibbling at, but you didn’t have to tell him twice before he was pulling away just hair. All you could see above you was white eyelashes framing bright blue eyes, and the tips of his hair tickled your forehead when Satoru lowered himself just a little so he could nudge his nose into your cheek affectionately. 

“You’re not wrong,” he sighed, sitting himself back up and tugging you along with him by your arm. You pat down your hair and brush some dirt from your sleeves while keeping a watchful eye on his expression from your peripheral. Satoru didn’t seem particularly disappointed or upset at your words, but you, in your habit, worried about the implication of them anyway. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” you reassured him, drawing his focus as you hurried to get your thoughts out to him. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you either, but this is…” you trailed off as words failed you. 

This was new and something precious to you. For the first time in years, you had someone by your side that cared to know everything you thought and longed to be near you. It was all a touch overwhelming to fall for someone you hadn’t ever pictured in a romantic role, and you were eager for the time to understand it fully yourself before allowing others to fix their attention on it. 

“Don’t worry,” Satoru said, and he was cheerful and giddy in the way he smiled while he dragged a finger across the back of your hand. “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Your burgeoning relationship carried on in secrecy for the next three months. In between classes and training of students, you and Satoru would find yourselves in an obscure hallway or forgotten classroom to share whispers and fleeting touches. It was nothing torrid or salacious as of yet, but everyday you longed for the moments you had alone with him to bask in muffled laughter and give in to lingering kisses that he would pull you into when you would try to leave for the umpteenth time. More than once you caught his head following you as he and the students walked by you on school grounds, and the previous week Kugisaki had commented on how keenly you studied Satoru while he demonstrated a fighting technique to Itadori. 

And now, when the school day was long over and the sun was beginning to set, you felt at ease walking through the door of Satoru’s office door to surprise him with spoils from your day. 

“Knock, knock,” you called out gently, peeking your head around the doorframe to find Satoru already looking up at you, blindfold nowhere to be seen. Fatigue clearly was gnawing at him. His head dropped from where his chin was propped up in his hand, and there was the faintest hint of purple under his eyes. A pen was clasped in his right hand where it rested on a large stack of paperwork, and you took notes of the various others crowding his desk as you walked in. “How are all the reports coming along?” 

Satoru groaned and threw himself back against his chair. “It’s been terrible! I’ve been stuck here finishing these reports since this morning. I didn’t even have lunch!” 

You laughed at his plight as you came to stand next to him and lean back against his desk before pulling a small brown sack from your bag. “Here,” you said, passing it to him, “I got you something while we were out today.” 

His face lit up in excitement ,and he eagerly snatched the bag from your grasp and buried his hand in it to pull out the pastry located inside. “You’re incredible,” he said, pausing to express his gratitude before he shoved half of it into his mouth. 

“You’ll choke one day,” you warned, vaguely impressed when he ate the other half in just as big of a bite. Satoru shook his head, and his grin told you he was proud of himself. 

“Was that from our bakery?” he asked, and you were grateful he had swallowed before speaking. 

“Yup. The first years did so well in training today that Nanami and I decided to end things early and treat them. We ended up running into the third years on the way, so they joined us and we all had a happy time together.” Satoru’s face fell somewhere in the beginning when you started talking, and by the time you were done his mouth was turned down into a full blown frown. 

“Without me?” He pouted, and the sad, puppy-esque face he gave you would have worked if you didn’t know what would be awaiting you if he didn’t finish his reports. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tutted, shaking a finger at him, “you needed to get these done, or else it would have been me taking over the extras and then we would both be miserable.” Satoru scowled, but the sigh he let out was resigned. 

“You’re not wrong.” 

You reached out and ruffled his hair. “Of course I’m not,” you teased, “but I brought you a treat to make up for it.” 

Satoru cocked a brow and stood from his chair so he could take a step towards you. Your lower back was already pressed into the edge of his desk, so you had to crane your head back to meet his eyes. “That’s true,” he said playfully. “You do make everything better.” He closed the space between your chests and the audible hitch in your breathing made him smirk. 

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but exhilaration flowed through you when his hands came up to cradle your jaw and he lowered his head enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your nose. Satoru hummed an amused sound before finally taking your bottom lip between his. You tucked your arms below his so you could fist your hands into the fabric of his uniform as his sides and a fluttering burst into your chest when he started stroking the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

It wasn’t wrong to say that Satoru had transfixed you. Everything about him—the way he smelled, the depth of his laugh, how his fingers felt when they danced over your skin—was alluring to you, and you couldn’t help but clutch him closer as your lips moved against his. In response, Satoru’s hands dropped down to grip at your waist, and you let out a noise of surprise in the brief moment your lips disconnected when he lifted you up, only to set you back down on his desk. He was quick to kiss you again, chasing you when you leaned back to make space for him in between your legs.

His hands seemed like they were everywhere at once: between your shoulders to press you into him, cupping your chin to angle it up and allow his lips to ghost over your neck, and then spread over your thighs to grasp and knead. The room was quiet except for the heady exhalations and gasping breaths of the air you shared, and you heard the rustling of paper being scattered as he cleared a spot behind you. 

Somewhere deep in your mind, your brain supplied you with the thought that Satoru’s office was not the ideal first place to do this—to have him. Certainly not as his hand started to sneak under the bottom of your shirt or your fingers toyed with the button on his pants, but every inch of him was plied against you and it would take something monumental to separate—,

“Ahem.” 

As it turned out, your principal clearing his throat outside of the wide open door of Satoru’s office was catastrophic enough for the two of you to spring apart at something close to the speed of light. You propelled yourself off Satoru’s desk to stand rigid at the side of it while turning your head to gawk accusingly at him, because surely the honored one should have sensed Principal Yaga way before he ever arrived. But from the way he immediately dropped straight into his chair to conceal himself from the waist down proved that, astonishingly, Gojo Satoru could be caught unaware. 

 Neither of you three said a word. Principal Yaga eyed you and Satoru with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, and you couldn’t decide whether hurling yourself out of the window behind you would be less painful than the scrutiny coming from the large man at the door. 

“There’s paperwork for this. You two can each get a copy from my office tomorrow,” he said eventually. You were relieved to hear a lack of judgment or disappointment in your principal’s voice and decided you could live with the resigned finality that colored instead. He didn’t offer anything else and had just begun to turn away with a shake of his head and a hand rubbing at his temple when he spun back around suddenly, making you flinch from where you were still rooted next to Satoru’s desk. 

“I want those reports finished and on my desk first thing in the morning, Satoru.” His tone brokered no discussion and—in all the time you’ve known him—you witnessed the loud-mouthed sorcerer at an apparent loss for words. He simply nodded in agreement and then Principal Yaga was gone. 

“Well,” Satoru started slowly, turning to face you in his chair, “I think that makes things official.” His mouth then tilted upwards into an unbothered grin, and he looked at you expectantly. Strained laughter died in your throat. 

“I guess so.” 

————————————————

In an effort to help make up for last week’s incident , Satoru called you midway through the Friday afternoon to, not ask, but summon you for a late night dinner date. In exchange, you got to pick where the two of you would eat and what dessert you would share at the end. It had taken little to no convincing on your part to get you to agree, and when the name of a restaurant in the upscale part of the city near his apartment slipped from your mouth, you were surprised to find that no guilt came along with it. 

Once upon a time, you might have wistfully imagined yourself seated and dined at that particular restaurant with Suguru, as you had told him when the two of you first passed it on the street. However, that daydream never came to fruition, and you refused to let a faded prospect with your long-lost ex-lover get in the way of creating new memories. So, in order to do just that, you took time getting yourself ready and slipped into a new dress before taking a train to the city to meet Satoru. 

The restaurant was everything you expected, and you took in with a small smile the low light atmosphere and your secluded table illuminated with flickering white candles. Waiters bustled to and fro, and the soft plinking of a lounge piano underscored the muffled murmurings of the restaurant’s patrons. You and Satoru talked about anything and nothing as you looked over the menu. The establishment wasn’t overabundant in the options it provided, instead taking great care to provide a few exceptionally well crafted meals, but you still had a difficult time making your decision nonetheless. Satoru offered to select one of the two dishes you went back and forth between for himself so you’d have the opportunity to try it, and while the idea melted your heart into a little puddle, you urged him to pick what he wanted for himself. 

A waiter came by and presented you with an extensive wine list, and while Satoru didn’t partake, he guessed with unbridled enthusiasm at which type you’d choose. His answer had been wrong, but the determined gleam in his eyes told you he’d never again make that mistake. After eventually making up your mind and successfully placing your order, the rest of the dinner flew by. The two of you spent time exchanging bites of each other’s food and sharing stories about the progress of the first year’s training. 

When you were brought the dessert menu, you both leaned over the table towards each other to look over it together, and when the two of you couldn’t decide on just one, you suggested ordering two. Satoru had raised a brow at you, having already heard twice by then how you were too full to have your own dessert and, despite his protest, insisted on sharing one with him. He relented, and you ordered two. When the waiter was out of earshot, you told him in a pointed few words that you had every intention of sharing that second dessert with him as a middle of the night snack. Satoru immediately sat straight in his seat, eyes flashing with heat and want and a whole other amalgamation of emotions that set your blood alight. 

By the time dessert came, you were two minutes shy of snatching the check and hauling him out the door, sweets be damned. But Satoru simply laughed and passed you a spoon while he situated the plate of dessert halfway between you two. When you were two bites in, stomach protesting and your eyes feeling just a bit heavy from the dimness of the restaurant, you tucked your foot under Satoru’s to rest it against his ankle. His answering smile was tender and maybe a little bashful, and while it could’ve been the second glass of wine that caused the stirring in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was your heart expanding enough to make room for him. 

————————————————

“I want to go there again next week,” you said blissfully, both satisfied from a delicious dinner and feeling relief from the cold floors of Satoru’s apartment on your sore feet. If you never again picked up the heels you had kicked off at his door, it would be too soon. You meandered into his kitchen and plucked a water bottle from his fridge to down in just a few swallows. 

“I suppose we could go back once a week until we finish trying every dessert and dinner option available,” Satoru responded, coming up behind you to curl one arm around your waist and press a kiss into your hair. “Thank you for being my date.” You lifted your arm to reach behind you and drape it around his neck, and he let his mouth glide across the skin that he could touch. 

“Always,” you murmured, and while the implications of the word felt a little heavy and maybe a bit presumptuous for the early stages of your relationship, it didn’t diminish the truth of which you spoke it with. Satoru didn’t seem to have an objection to it and merely pasted every inch of his front against your back. 

“If you’re tired, or if the second glass of wine was too much, I’m happy to lend you a change of clothes and offer you a guest room for the night. We can make breakfast in the morning if you’re willing to supervise.” His laughter tickled your skin, and you were quick to shake your head and turn in his hold.

“No to the guest room, but yes to breakfast.” 

He smiled into the kiss he placed onto your lips and you fisted your fingers into the collar of his shirt in an attempt to keep him against you when he stepped back and nodded in the direction of a hallway. You caught his hand from behind when Satoru turned to walk towards what was presumably his bedroom and held on to it as he led you. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, eyes promising and mouth slightly parted, and when he whirled around completely to tug you through the open door of his room, you caught yourself on his chest and giggled. 

While Satoru busied himself with nuzzling his lips against the curve of your shoulder and fiddling with the various clasps and a zipper at the back of your dress, you peeked around his arm to study the vastness of his bedroom. It was as expertly put together as the rest of his home, but still mostly lacking in its signs of life. The high beamed ceiling and towering window framed by lush dark curtains created a feeling of openness, but the plush comforter on his bed and the stone fireplace set across from it helped cultivate a sense of coziness. You spied his uniform draped over the back of a chair nestled under a desk, and a thrill went through when the computer sitting atop it flashed a screensaver familiar to you—the picture of your dessert from the cafe a thousand miles away. 

You had the mind to ask Satoru about it, but before you could he was peeling your dress off your shoulders and down your arms. His eyes flicked up to yours in silent permission and it only took a subtle dip of your chin before he was pushing it the rest of the way down your torso, and you squirmed when his fingers danced over your ribs in a way that tickled. Hands started to move in a hurry after that point. Yours flew to the buttons of his shirt while his traveled up your arms to cup your cheeks so he could kiss you again. When you divested him of the fabric concealing his chest, seeing it land in a flutter next to your dress on the floor, you immediately started in on his belt, taking pleasure in the stuttered breath Satoru let out above you when you yanked on it in your efforts to get it off. 

As soon as he stepped out his pants, Satoru was turning you to the bed and he just barely caught himself above you when the two of you fell back against it. You grinned up at him as you shuffled up towards the pillows, and he followed obediently to settle between your legs when you opened them for him. It wasn’t until Satoru had already shimmed your underwear off your legs and did the same to himself did you feel a prickle of nervousness in your belly at the sight of him. There had been a few others in the time between Suguru and now, but they all had blended into faceless bodies and blurred memories of dark bedrooms, none ever so important that you bothered to recall them in times of loneliness. But this—Satoru—would be different, and you had only ever known one other man in such a deeper level of intimate feelings.

“Comparing me to someone?” The sarcastic quip from Satoru reclaimed your attention and nearly had you leaving the bed altogether, but the hidden undercurrent of vulnerability in his voice kept you under him. One day, the two of you would have a discussion about appropriate boundaries and how to express one’s emotions with proper words, but for now, you would reassure him that he would not have to spend his entire life worrying that he would never be enough for you. 

“No,” you said pointedly, cocking an eyebrow at him, and he actually looked chagrined. “I was actually thinking about how you were longer than I expected.” You punctuated your words by reaching down and wrapping your hand around him, and all the air rushed out of his lungs in a forceful exhale. It wasn’t a lie on your part. Where Suguru had been impressive in his width, Satoru excelled in his length, but that wasn’t any of his particular business. 

“I always thought you’d wear some expensive cologne everyday,” you continued in a whisper, tightening your grip around him until he sagged against your chest and let out a low moan in your ear, “but you smell faintly of clean scented soap and that surprised me.” You trailed the hand not currently occupied over the ridges of his spine and had to bite at your lip when Satoru shuddered against you. “Your skin doesn’t run as hot as I imagined it would, but I don’t mind it.” 

He chuckled a bit at that, and the breathless sound of it made you shiver. In a strained voice he asked, “anything else?” You let out a questioning hum, feigning your need to contemplate the idea, and Satoru nipped at your neck in retaliation. 

“Okay, okay!” you squealed, wriggling under him as he continued his assault up over your ear before replacing them with soft kisses over your cheek. “Your hair feels as soft as it looks and not a day goes by that I don’t think about running my fingers through it.” To emphasize your point, you raked your nails over his scalp and a pleased grumble sounded low in his chest. You debated sharing your next thought with him, but he was searching your eyes in a way that was a little desperate and heart wrenching, so you obliged. 

“The night of that failed date, right before we fought,” you began quietly, tracing your finger over Satoru’s cheek and the bridge of his nose, “I spent the whole time wishing it had been you.” 

The admission must have taken him off guard because his eyes widened and a pink flush took over his cheeks. His chest brushed more firmly against your breasts as his breathing accelerated in the slightest, and you reached up to nudge the tip of your nose against his. You didn’t bother waiting for his reply, and arched your hips upwards to grind them against his, this time you both let out echoing moans. Much of what came next happened in blurs of frenzied movement; his hand slipping between your legs and moving about in a way that had you throwing your head back into his pillows until his room was filled with the sound of you chanting Satoru’s name. When you were breathless and panting, he trailed back up your body with his lips straying to the dip of your waist, the curve of your breast, and then back to your mouth. 

When he finally made space for himself inside you and pulled your thigh higher over his hip, all you could do was grasp at his back and grip at his arms while he murmured your name into the crook of your neck. His movements stole your breath and overwhelmed any other thoughts in your head, but you didn’t mind how much room Satoru took up. Not when his fingers traced your features in delicate awe and wonder, and not when he had you calling his name in response to the sudden burst of warmth that poured over you a second and third time before he followed in kind. 

Satoru rolled the two of you over when your chests were still heaving and limbs were trembling, wrapping you up tightly in the breadth of his arms so you could rest your cheek just under his collarbone while he whispered soft affirmations and praises in your ear. You decided then, when he was still nestled inside you and spoke excitedly of a midnight snack in a plastic to-go bag and of shared breakfast in the morning that Gojo Satoru would never be too much for you. 

————————————————

When Satoru blinked awake, the first thing he noticed was the calmness with which he came out of sleep. His skin wasn’t slicked with sweat, nor were his blankets tangled around his legs. He hadn’t thrashed into consciousness, tormented by an endless loop of nightmares filled with his dead best friend’s face or your vehement ire. Instead, his eyes opened drowsily to take in the blue-black of twilight peeking through his curtains and became instantly aware of the sound of rhythmic breathing to his left. You slept soundly on your side facing away from him, but with your back pressed against his arm. Satoru let out a long breath, feeling more rested than he had in months, but he was in no hurry to find his way out of bed and away from you. In an attempt to coax his mind back into slumber, he shifted onto his side and wiggled down into the bed until he could snuggle his face against the back of your neck. You made a sleepy noise of annoyance when he wrapped his arm around your hips to pull you against him, but you didn’t wake and Satoru sighed in contentment before letting his eyes fall closed.

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I hope y'all enjoyed this sweetness as much as I did!

The next chapter with be the last, but will not be nearly as long and will wrap things up and give a happy ending to our couple. I'm excited to share it will y'all soon<3

Have a good weekend!

Taglist: @paprikaquinn & @kafanizdakicokiyi

[ariundercovers]

A Fork in the Road (When Paths Cross, Pt II-Javi Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: The next morning. Chucho, water, and a promise.

Chapter Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic descriptions of sexual acts, fingering, hand jobs, mutual masturbation, Chucho being a Little Shit, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

a/n: Huge shoutout to my spouse who assisted me GREATLY with the Chucho/Javi/Reader breakfast dialogue. There was so much I wanted to convey there and it required a lot of finesse. He was instrumental in getting it there.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (I) HERE

NEXT PART (III) HERE

You wake up in nearly the same position you fell asleep in, minus one large man behind you that you’re not entirely sure whether you imagined or not. As you blink your bleary eyes open, you recognize finally that you’re not in your apartment, and certainly not in your own bedroom. 

Oh, right. So… it wasn’t a dream, afterall.

You stretch your limbs out wide for a long moment, sitting up onto your forearms just as the door is opening. You pray that it’s not Chucho, and thank fuck, it isn’t. It’s Javi, holding two mugs of coffee. He smiles at you and hands you one that seems to already have cream in it.

“Seemed like the cream-and-sugar kind of gal. If I’m wrong, I’ll take that one and fix this one up for you however you like.” You smile widely back at him and bring the cup to your lips, the smell alone waking you up a bit.

“No, this is perfect, Javi. Thank you.” He nods, perches on the edge of the bed, and watches you as you sip the coffee in your hands. “Is Chucho up yet?”

“No, too early still. Why? Worried about him seeing you?” You shrug in response, not wanting to admit it, but you know he’s right. 

“Alright. You’ve got two options. You can run out of here quickly before he sees you, or you can stay and suffer through it so I can make you a proper breakfast.”

You smile softly and look up at him from where your face is buried in the mug. “And what’s your take on a proper breakfast, exactly?”

“Pancakes and scrambled eggs. It’s about all I can make, so that’s your highest offer.” 

You laugh in response and sip your coffee once more. “Yeah. That sounds perfect, actually. I’ll stay.” You’re a pair of consenting adults, anyway. What does it really matter if Chucho finds out? You’re not a teenager, and he’s not your dad. 

Except, he really has been like a father to you since you got here. You’re certain Javi wouldn’t lie about whether or not Chucho would be mad about it, though, so you do your best to let it roll over you and move along. 

Javi nods back at you with a little lopsided grin on his face and stands up, brushing off his jeans briefly.  Then he’s taking a few steps to close the distance between you and leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll get started then. Join me whenever you want. And feel free to grab a shirt, or sweatpants, or whatever you want from my dresser if it's more comfortable. Open invitation.” You watch him as he leaves, bringing the coffee to your lips again as you sigh. 

This is not how you expected your weekend to start out. 

Half of a coffee mug and one quick clothing change later, you find yourself plodding into the kitchen from down the hall, one of Javi’s t-shirts pulled over your head and your coffee, half-drunk, safely held in two hands. Javi is, as he said he would be, diligently working on making a mess of the kitchen. You can’t help but smile at the easiness of it, setting your mug down on the table.

“Can I help?”

He shakes his head ‘no,’ but doesn’t turn to you as he continues. “Never. I’m making breakfast for you, not with you.” He turns then and smirks at seeing you in one of his shirts - it sets off a pang of possessiveness in his chest that comes out of nowhere. “Done soon, promise.”

You sit and watch him for a few more minutes, the domesticity granting you a peacefulness that you haven’t often felt since moving here. You watch him move back and forth from the fridge to the stove, eventually making up two plates of food and bringing them over to set one in front of each of you.

“Thank you for this, Javi, it’s very sweet of you.”

“It’s nothing, really. Just tryin’ to treat you right. Plus, Chucho would kill me if he found out I sent you out of here without some food in your belly.” You chuckle at that, as you can imagine it easily. Chucho does always seem to have a touch of a temper, and a keen ability to push Javi’s buttons with expert technique, as he demonstrated last night. He’s also strangely protective of you, for a reason you can’t quite place.

“Thank you, anyway. I appreciate it. And the coffee. And the shirt, actually.” You offer him a genuine smile and then turn to your plate, digging into the array he’s laid out for you. It’s shockingly well-made, which only surprises you because you can’t really picture him as much of a home chef.

You’re both working your way through your plates when you hear the floorboards creaking down the hallway and your head snaps in the direction of Chucho’s room. Your head turns just in time for him to emerge from his room, one brow quirked up at you as he makes immediate eye contact.

Ah. So that eyebrow is genetic, in fact. 

You shoot him an uneasy smile as you feel a heat rise to your cheeks, a bit embarrassed at being caught. You can’t help it - it feels like being caught by your own father.

“Mornin’, Pops.”

“Javier,” he responds, deadpan, looking Javi directly in the eye. The heat in your cheeks deepens as Chucho walks over to the stove, starting to fix himself a plate, as well. You and Javi sit in a stunned silence, bodies rigid with the palpable tension between you all. Chucho sighs, still facing the oven, and adds, “so… we’re having breakfast as well as dinner, now?” 

You can’t see it, but he has a smirk that rivals Javi’s on his face as he speaks. You snort, placing your coffee mug down before addressing him directly. 

“How could I resist a home-cooked meal from Javi himself?”

He turns with his plate now full, and heads toward the two of you. You can see the smile on his face as he walks up behind Javier. “I hope his cooking doesn’t scare you off of our standing dinner dates.”

Javi looks over at you with a wicked smirk and replies, “Oh no, I am certainly countin’ on those to continue,” and then, as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Chucho is smacking him in the head, cursing him under his breath. Javi rubs at the back of his head instinctually with a nervous chuckle and Chucho takes a seat at the head of the table, eyes darting back and forth between you two for a moment. 

“Listen, I’m not one to get in the way of things. Treat each other right and I’ve got no opposition. We’re all adults here.” 

You heave out a sigh of relief, grateful for the confirmation that he isn’t actually upset with you. You were feeling like a teenager getting caught red-handed with a pack of condoms by your parents.

“You got it, Pops,” Javi responds, and you turn to offer him a gentle look before shifting your attention back to your plate. Something warm blooms in your chest as you consider the exchange.

The three of you finish eating in a comfortable silence before Chucho excuses himself to go off and start the day’s work on the ranch. Javi takes your plate to the sink and when he comes back, he holds his hand out for yours, helping you out of your chair. You walk back to his room together and you start to gather up your things quickly, feeling once again like you’ve overstayed your welcome somehow. Plus, you need to get home and take a shower, brush your teeth, all the things you usually would have done by this point in the morning

“Muñeca, what’s the rush for?” Your head pops up to look at Javi, propped up against the edge of his desk with one foot crossed over the other. You take a deep breath before you respond.

“Just feel like I need to get out of your hair. Also, I need to change, and shower, and brush my teeth, and all the other stuff I do in the morning.” Shrugging, you go back to gathering your things, but you hear him shift and then in just a few steps bring his body within such close of a distance you think you can feel his body heat through the air between you. He tucks a finger under your chin and lifts, forcing you to stand upright as he tugs your head into alignment so that he can look into your eyes.

“At least half of those things, you can do here, instead. Don’t really want to let you go just yet, darlin’.” You’re lost to his gaze, blinking up at him with wide eyes. 

“And what are you suggesting, Javi?” He leans down and brushes your lips with his, pulling you into a much tighter embrace as his other hand snakes its way around your hips.

“You said you need a shower, didn’t you? Then shower with me, muñequita. We’ve got running water, too.” You giggle slightly, leaning up just enough to peck him on the lips.

“Well… since you put it like that…” Your hands find their way to his waist, fingers catching in his belt loops as you tug, trying to pull his hips in, against yours. His hand shifts from your chin to wrap into your hair at the back of your head, tugging lightly to expose your neck, where he promptly attaches his lips and teeth to. You groan, letting your head loll to the side as you close your eyes and let him lavish you with the attention of his mouth.

He pulls you toward the door, breaking apart only long enough to lead you straight across the hallway and into the bathroom. He sets you back against the countertop, arms caging you in as he leans in for a much softer kiss than the ones you’ve shared so far. It makes your head spin, twists your insides into a knot, and short circuits your brain for a moment.

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless, pupils blown out wide and mouth hanging open as you gape up at him. His lips twist into a mischievous smile as he stares at you, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt, still tugged tightly onto your upper body. He eases it over your head, dropping it onto the counter, and reaches for your jeans, deftly unfastening them so you can shimmy them down your body, as well. His shirt comes off, then, his own belt and jeans, and suddenly you’re standing in front of each other in just your underwear.

Javi turns to turn on the shower, letting the water heat up while he puts his hands all over you - sliding up and down your torso, chest, and ass. Gripping the meat of your ass tightly in two large palms, he presses your hips into his again and you can feel his nearly hard cock jabbing into your hip.

“See what you do to me, muñeca? All it takes is looking at you.” You smile back at the praise and run your hands along his arms, winding them around behind his neck as he leans in to kiss you. He checks the temperature of the water quickly and then leads you in, holding your hand as you step over the tub edge and under the spray. You have to admit, it feels nice, and it’s even nicer when he steps in front of you and floods your vision with the broad expanse of his naked torso.

You take your time washing one another, lathering and scrubbing and rinsing in tandem as your hands work all along each other’s skin. It’s such a basic but intimate action that it makes your heart swell to be able to do it, and sets off a pang in your chest when you remember you just met this man last night.

How in the world did he have you falling so head over heels already?

Organically, your gentle scrubbing and lathering hands turn slowly into more sensual touches. Javi’s fingers reach for your ass and inner thighs, hitching one of your legs up into the crook of his elbow. 

“Let me feel you, baby,” he drawls, head dipping to mouth at your throat as his fingertips tease at your wet folds. You push your hips into his hand in response and his middle finger finds your clit, drawing little circles around it as you moan softly. 

“Fuck, Javi, okay.” Your hands shift then, one moving to rest on his chest as the other reaches for his cock, settling in a loose fist at the base as you start to stroke him with a matching intensity to his lazy circles on your clit. He groans into you ear and presses his finger a little more directly before sliding it down to your entrance and pressing in. His thumb finds your clit again and you can’t help the little whine you let out in response. 

“Love all those little sounds you give me, muñequita. Every one of them goes straight to my cock.” He chuckles, nipping at your throat and then your jaw as he pumps his finger in and out of you, eventually adding a second finger. Your strokes along his length quicken, squeezing tighter and adding a little twist to it each time you make your way back up to the head. He moans deeply right into your ear and your eyes close softly, lost in the feeling of it.

With your back pressed up against the cool tile of the shower and the heat of his body pressed against you, it’s not long before he has you shattering into oblivion for him, cumming hard on his fingers as he works you right through your orgasm. As soon as you’re back in your own body a bit, your focus shifts to getting him off, hand diligently stroking his cock, thumb swiping over the reddened tip, until he’s cumming too, shooting bright white streaks all across your belly. 

You giggle a little bit and he lets go of your leg as you stand. “I think this shower served the opposite purpose. Now I need to wash myself all over again.” He offers a chuckle as he eases you back to standing, breath still heaving in and out. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you with that, promise. But give me a minute.” He leans in to kiss you again, though this time is totally different than the way he kissed you against the counter. it’s slow, sweet, gentle, even, his hands rubbing soothing circles over your skin. 

When Javi pulls away, he reaches up for the shower head and bring it between the two of you, rinsing off your stomach and himself with the warm water before replacing it and grabbing the soap. Just as he said he would, he carefully lathers you both up before directing you back under the spray and then himself. His lips find yours once more before he winks at you.

“Ready? I’ll give you a new shirt and stop holding you hostage here when we get out. Promise.” Another quick kiss from Javi lets him reach around you and turn off the spray, then turning and helping you back out of the tub. He steps out himself and gathers up two towels, wrapping one around your shoulders before he towels off his hair and his own body.

You take your time drying off and dressing, pausing every once and a while to offer each other gentle kisses and easy smiles. Things between you feel almost too easy, too natural. Togetherness comes to the two of you like second nature. If you knew any better, you’d probably be unnerved by it all, but you don’t, so you soak it in, instead.

Javi leads you back across the hall and, as promised, offers you a clean shirt and a peck on the cheek. He gets himself dressed and helps you gather your things, walking you out into the living room, where Chucho is back from feeding the animals and sitting in his leather chair for a few minutes of rest. Javi leads you to the front door, unlocking it and opening it for the two of you to walk out.

Chucho looks over to you with that signature eyebrow quirk and pipes in, “Same time next week?” You let out a little nervous laugh and you can feel the telltale searing heat work its way back into your cheeks.

“Yeah. Same time next week,” you respond, even more heat blooming in your cheeks, and Javi leads you out of the house. He walks you the whole way to your car with a gentle hand at your lower back, leading you along until you’re at the driver side door and he’s pressing your back up against it, leaning into you.

“I had so much fun with you, muñequita,” he whispers into your ear before nipping lightly at your earlobe. “Thank you.”

That same heat which had only just started to dissipate rises to your cheeks again, and a breath catches in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him with a small groan and smile back at him. 

“I did, too, Javi. you don’t have to thank me.” He shoots back a matching smile and lifts your chin to press a sweet kiss onto your lips. 

“Well, I’m thanking you anyway.” He pauses for a beat before he continues. “What do you think about dinner later this week, just the two of us? Or lunch. Anything you want. No Pops invited.” Your smile grows wider as his thumb brushes gently along your cheekbone.

“Yeah? I’d like that a lot, actually.” 

He kisses you one more time before taking a step back and shoving his hands in his pockets so he isn’t tempted to keep taking and taking. “Well… It’s a date, then?”

You nod and a light chuckle slips out that you didn’t expect.

“Yeah. It’s a date.”

~~~ a/n: don't forget to like/reply/reblog! I love to hear from you!

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Silent Hearts // [Part V]

Pairing | Cowbell x reader

Word count | 3.6k

⚠️ Warnings | Canon divergence, f!reader, Y/N is used. Ghouls locked in cages. Talk of ghoul mates. Sister Imperator is a bitch. Should be okay otherwise? TW for a very brief mention of blood? Lots of backstory in this one....

Chapter Summary: You decide to ignore Mountain's warning and sneak off back to the cemetery to confront Felix. However, you end up finding answers in the most unlikely of places... [pt.2]

A/N: Posting early cause I have it finished - happy early Ghostober fellow Ghesties!

This is part 2 continuing on from where we left off. LOOOTS of lore for Felix in this one. I'm sorry, I hope it's interesting. After this will be some much needed fluff okay? I promise! xoxo

[Prev][Next]

“No need to be afraid, little one. I am no one to fear.” 

The male voice spoke calmly as metal chains scraped against the ground, signalling the creature's movement. “Come closer, I cannot see you.”

“N-No thanks,” you stuttered, about ready to bolt for the door. Felix said I’d be safe down here, the fucking liar. You were about to die and it’s all his fault. Maybe he really did hate you?

“You’re injured. I can help.” It spoke.

Your brow furrowed as you looked down at your leg. The blood was now starting to pool in small areas along your thigh, causing it to seep through the fabric of your pants. “How did–?”

“I can smell it,” he explained. “The blood.”

You didn’t know whether to be scared or utterly terrified. But against your better judgement you grabbed the candle that was flickering on the wooden desk and very slowly ventured into the darkness. It only took a couple steps to notice the back half of the room was full of iron bars which stood from the floor to ceiling in square like formations, much like small unfinished rooms. Although, upon closer inspection they seemed awfully small to be anything more than closets at best.

Who in their right mind puts closets in the middle of–?

Your stomach dropped. These weren’t meant to be rooms or closets…

These were cages. 

Most of the empty holding cells were dust covered, much like the boxes you had just been sorting through, with the doors left agape. As if they were waiting to welcome their next victim. The bars themselves had begun to rust, metal flakes threatening to float away at the slightest gust of wind, yet you knew they were still more than capable of doing their job. The only recent occupants of these cells had been the rats who had scurried away as soon as the light from your candle illuminated the ground, disrupting their hiding place.

You couldn’t help the involuntary look of disgust that crossed your face as you saw them run away before you suddenly felt like you were being watched.

“They really aren’t so bad once you get to know them,” the same voice said, but projecting much louder now you had gotten closer to where he was hiding.

You turned your head in the direction of where you heard him speak, cursing the candle for not lighting more than a foot in front of you. Being so far underground meant you didn’t have the luxury of windows to allow the moonlight in, silently protecting you from the things you couldn’t see. Down here, the dark was in charge. As well as whatever lurked within it.

“How much further?” You turned to look back to the entrance you came through, the once bright area around the desk now seemed dim as the darkness curled around you with each step you took further into the room.

“A few steps, little one.” You could almost hear the smirk in the creature's voice. “You are very brave. An admirable trait, yet also a stupid one.”

You halted after his last words hit your ears, now seeing the outline of the last cage which was facing towards you. All the others had been placed along either side of the room, with doors opening outwards to outline the path. However the furthest cell was straight ahead, which marked the end of the road. You noticed this door wasn’t open like the others either. It was locked, bound in chains with wards etched in red and white chalk over the metal bars.

Whatever, or whoever was in there, clearly was never supposed to get out.

You took an anxious gulp as the chains clanked and scraped again, this time very audible. So audible that you could tell it came directly from the back left corner of the cell. 

When you worked up enough courage to look in that direction, you were met with two piercing blue eyes which stared right back at you. The glow of them almost held you in a trance before the metal of his shackles got caught in deep claw marks etched into the concrete at his feet.

It wasn't until now that you noticed this cell wasn’t like the others. The other pens you passed by had dirt floors. Which led you to believe the Clergy knew he was here, and modified this particular chamber just for him.

“Do not be afraid, I cannot hurt you.” The creature spoke with that calm patience he always had. You gulped as you stared at the damaged floor. 

“W-Was that you?” You whispered, fear seeping into every syllable.

“No, child. That was not me,” he spoke moving closer to the thin iron bars that separated you. “However, you know who did this. Someone dear to you.”

Your mind raced as you bent down to study the marks closer. They were like an angry animal's talons that cut straight through the ground. “Did Felix do this?” You muttered to yourself, your own fingers itching to trace over them.

The creature simply chuckled, “No. Try again.”

He was the only ghoul you knew that was supposedly capable of something like this. So, if it wasn’t Felix, no one else could’ve…

Mountain?

The creature’s amused laughter rumbled off the walls as he heard your breath hitch in realization. “Indeed.”

You didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t. But you had to admit, having a single cell lined with concrete for an Earth ghoul made a bit too much sense. No one in their right mind would try to hold one of them against their will, in a cage built on the very thing they were born to control.

No one in their right might should be trying to trap a ghoul in a cell at all.

While your thoughts raced, you didn’t notice the strange creature had snuck up on you. He was now sitting in front of where you had knelt, successfully giving you quite a fright as his hooded figure was now mere inches away from you.

You jumped and shuffled away, dropping the candle by the bars of the cage in your hurry to create a safer distance. The creature simply extended a long clawed hand through the bars to grab the metal candle holder and pass it back through. Even with the little bit of light it gave off and the candle held so close to him, there was nothing you could see that resembled anything like a face. With the exception of the amused glint you noticed in his two, glowing blue eyes, which had been studying the tiny flame, there was nothing but a pit of darkness under his hood.

“Please, excuse my poor manners. It has been many years since I have interacted with your kind,” he spoke, setting the candle on the ground and turning back to you. “Or anyone, really.”

While your brain was thoroughly spooked, the flickering candlelight helped to make out some features of who exactly you were talking to. He was a ghoul, that much you knew for certain. Dressed in a long black robe which looked to be from Primo’s era. What you hadn't noticed before in your frightened state, was the chain wrapped tightly around his neck. It connected at his waist to another that trailed behind him, much like a harness with a leash. 

As your eyes followed the thicker chain, you noticed this one was not like the rest. In the corner of his cell, you saw what you could only describe as an anchor. Much like you would find off of a ship - and it had to be a large vessel at that, to warrant the size of the spade donning the end.

They had chained the poor ghoul to an anchor. 

It was clearly used as well. You could see the metal had rusted and warped much like it would if submerged underwater for a great period of time. What had happened to this ill-fated ghoul? Who was he?

The creature followed your gaze as you took in his situation. “Don’t worry, it’s not as uncomfortable as it looks.” He tried to joke, but that didn’t change the fact that you were absolutely horrified.

“This is barbaric!” You exclaimed.

“Living up to my name, that’s all this is.” He said, too nonchalantly for your liking. How could he be so okay with this?

“This is all because of your name?” You trailed off in confusion.

He nodded, “Chain. My name is Chain, and you shall call me as such.”

Chain. The ghoul that disappeared?

“Yes, that is me you think of. I did not disappear, the Clergy put me down here out of fear.”

You tried to remember what you had overheard during your first few months at the Ministry. Ghouls were always a topic of conversation for many reasons, both good and bad. “The Clergy said you went feral and killed people, Siblings.” 

“I did no such thing!” His voice boomed angrily, almost cutting you off as it echoed around the empty room. “That is a lie!”

You said nothing, not wishing to anger the ancient ghoul any more than you already had. You both took a breath as he shifted to sit in a more comfortable position. Rolling his shoulders trying to ease the tension.

“I was important once. Feared for the right reasons, but never cruel.” He continued, his voice now closer to his normal, calmer resonance. “I assume Felix feels the same. Alas, he chose the better option. He gets to be free while his actions have damned me never to see the light of day.”

Your head snapped up at the mention of Felix’s name. Chain knew Felix? More importantly - Chain knew him as Felix?

“You know him?”

The ghoul named Chain smiled, fangs poking through that void of darkness which sat cloaked underneath his hood.

“Know him? Little one, we were once kings.” He puffed his chest, his head rolling back as he revered the memory. Anticipating your keen interest, he continued his story. “We were once at the hands of Lucifer himself, made to be the Devil’s personal guard you see. We were built for pure destruction. Unbridled in our abilities to inflict pain upon those he deemed necessary. One day, as fate would have it, the first of the bloodline would call upon his first summon.” 

Primo.

 “Lucifer was delighted to hear of the eldest brothers’ effort to spread his unholy words. When he heard Primo’s call, summoning us to the surface, the Dark Lord chose me to pave the way. Gifting the brother his finest soldier. And being the loyal demon I am, of course I saw it as a blessing.”

He paused to gauge your reaction, only to find your undivided attention. 

“When the day finally came and the portal was open, I was happy to have been chosen. Eager to complete the unholy task I had been given. Felix did not feel the same. He saw it as the Dark One labelling him incapable. And in his streak of rebellion, he abandoned his post by Lucifer's side and jumped through along with me.”

This was absolutely insane. Ghouls were extremely loyal, almost to a fault. And yet, Felix turned his back on Lucifer himself. His creator. You didn’t think that was even possible?

“While he was adjusting to the surface, Felix tried to be good. It was amiable really. To see a ghoul never built with the intention of being compassionate, try so hard to be liked and fit in. The rest of the pack knew he was strange, but none of them knew him like I did. I knew the grudge he held. I never got to tell him that I was only chosen because Lucifer wanted him by his side. Felix was always the better fighter, more ruthless and cunning than I could ever be. He was Hell’s perfect soldier. I was sent to the surface so our dark father wasn’t left without his greatest defender. And yet here we stand.”

You didn’t know what to say. Never in your life did you imagine this was Felix’s story.

“I bet you’re wondering where you fit into all of this.” The ghoul prompted, which earned him a nod. You didn’t trust your voice to speak just yet.

“How much do you know about ghoul mates, little one?” He asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

“I know you guys have them, but I don’t know anything specific.” You answered honestly.

Chain just hummed and you could see his hood shift as he nodded in contemplation. “Normally, it’s written within our DNA. A ghoul’s mate is like a soulmate of the highest degree. Not bound by your frail human emotions, they are tied to our very being. Our mates are our lifeline, one cannot exist without the other. So, when you find one it’s very special. And you my dear, are his.”

You’re pretty sure you heard your heart stop.

“He will never admit it to you as it’s forbidden, which is why I am telling you this now, but it goes far beyond that. See, when ghouls are chosen for the Devils guard, we are denied such ‘pleasantries’ in order to make sure our allegiances do not waver. That is why we are not blessed with the ability to produce kits, or have mates. Lucifer decides who is to be a ghoul’s other half, so he purposely leaves it out of our genetic makeup.” 

He paused as you rubbed at your temples. This was so overwhelming. 

“But you just said I was his mate? How does he have one if he… doesn’t have one?”

“Ahh, now you are asking the right questions. I am very proud.” Chain genuinely smiles as he notices you subconsciously move closer in intrigue. “We ghouls are all pawns in the Devil’s little game. When Felix defected, he ultimately called himself king. And of course Lucifer did not like that one bit. If I know my master well, the timing of your situation is quite deliberate. For how else could he punish Felix if not by giving him the one thing he can’t have? Not because of the Clergy’s rules, but because you are human. You will die, and he will not.” His voice grows more sinister by the second. “We mate for life, dear one. You may not realize it but Lucifer is dangling you in front of him like a carrot on a string. If Felix’s actions in the Pit were to be his crime, living without you is to be his life sentence.”

Checkmate.

Your head snapped around to the sudden commotion at the entrance of the room. There stood Sister Imperator and Alpha, who had Mountain whining and pinned by the ear. It looked like he had put up a bit of a fight before they got here.

“And it’s one which we plan on expediting. Thank you Chain, your distraction told us everything we needed to know. You will be rewarded accordingly.” Sister Imperator spoke, her voice laced with venom.

You heard the water ghoul quietly thank the Mother Superior and shrink back into the darkness of his cell as you stood to go check on Mountain.

“Mountain? What did he do? He has done nothing wrong!” You tried to reason on his behalf, which only earned you a snarl from Alpha as you got too close. All he had told you was that Felix was his cousin and warned you to stay away from him. Surely that didn’t warrant all of this. He tried to follow the rules!

“Alpha, please. The girl is allowed to have questions.” The Sister spoke. “My dear it came to my attention that you are in violation of the terms regarding a certain ghoul’s banishment? And as such, the punishment is unfortunately clear.”

She had picked up the old scroll which held the terms and rules of Felix’s situation. You silently cursed yourself for tossing it aside earlier as you read the appropriate punishment.

Death.

Your eyes went wide as you backed up a step. Chain hadn’t told you about that tiny detail.

“It’s a shame that you’ll be joining your friends in the cemetery so soon, but I’m sure they would be happy to welcome a familiar face.” She said without too much fervor, as if none of what was happening held any more weight than deciding whether to have turkey or ham at dinner. Meanwhile your brain was in overload.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to tell them–”

“Shut it.” Alpha snapped as Mountain whined in pain, the fire ghoul’s hot fingertips singeing the middle flesh of his ear.

“Let's go, my dear. Best not to delay the inevitable, it just makes it worse.” The sister smiled and held out her hand, much like a teacher would a child.

You couldn’t even grasp words by the time you reached the top of the steps. It was like everything was moving in slow motion. The next thing you knew, you were standing back outside, facing the very cemetery you were about to be the newest resident of. 

You didn’t notice how Mountain kept pleading for your forgiveness as he was dragged alongside you. Or the way the Sister was trying to comfort you, and explaining that none of this was your fault. ‘You’re just a pawn on the wrong side of an unfortunate game’. 

And sometimes one must sacrifice a pawn to save the rook.

You looked out over the hill at the stars. At least your last night on this Earth was going to be a beautiful one. You just stood there for as long as you could, trying to bring back every happy memory you ever had; gardening with Mountain, singing karaoke with Copia, experiencing Primo’s famous sermons.

I guess the devil wants me back sooner than I thought. I hope I’ve served him well.

You were startled out of your daydream by a voice snarling angrily from the darkness.

“She’s not going anywhere, so I suggest you let her go.”

The tall shadowy figure got closer with every step until the exterior lights of the Abbey illuminated his face for everyone to see.

Felix.

“Ah, ghoul.” The Sister spoke, her body language instantly shifting to a more nervous stance as she attempted to remain in control. Clearly their last meeting had hit its mark. “You know the rules. They are written–”

“Don’t patronize me, Woman. I know the rules very well, I was there when they were fucking written.” He growled and glared at Alpha who had shifted his duties to restrain you at some point during the last few minutes. The ghoul’s strong arm had wrapped around your collar bone and began to tighten with every step Felix took.

“The rules stated anyone who was my mate had to die, yes?” Felix said pointedly, to which the Sister nodded in agreement. “Y/N never agreed to be my mate, nor did she know what that even meant until now. Unless things have changed, we never completed the mating ritual and she doesn’t bear my mark. Therefore she is not my mate, officially anyway, and the rules have not been broken.”

You were so relieved to see him. You worried he was actually mad at you before, but now you know he was just trying to protect you. And if you were being honest, having him defend your life so aggressively right now was kind of a turn on? 

You locked eyes with Felix and it took everything in you not to scream at the strange feeling of his voice filling your head.

Crouch down and run.

You didn’t have to think twice before doing exactly that. You added a good stomp to Alpha’s foot for good measure and slipped under the ghouls weakened grasp before running straight to Felix. 

Alpha recovered quickly and took a hasty step to chase after you before squaring off with Mountain, who was at least 5 inches taller and had already wrapped roots around the fire ghoul’s ankle to keep him firmly in place. At least for a short while.

Once you were safely wrapped in Felix’s arms, his scent brought you an overwhelming sense of peace and safety. You decided you never wanted to be apart from him ever again, Clergy’s stupid rules be damned. The feeling of you pressed into his chest and not literally running for your life like he had implied made his brow lift in amusement. 

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but this works too.” He chuckled, still keeping a close eye on the three people behind you.

The Sister was at a loss for words. How did he know what was going on? How did he know where to find them so fast? How did this all go so, so wrong?

Mountain stood defensively between the pair as Felix turned to lead you away from this mess and assuming back to his den. His cousin might have been psychotic and unworthy to the rest of their kind, but who was he to deny Felix the chance of even a few short years with a mate he was never supposed to have? 

As soon as the Earth ghoul knew of the Sister’s plans, he immediately enlisted the help of the groundskeeper to send word to his cousin, and prayed he wasn’t too late. Mountain knew the old man had made close ties with Felix over the years and was the best shot of getting any sort of message to him.

As Felix led you away from the Abbey and back to the safety of his nest, you looked back at Mountain and smiled, whispering a ‘Thank you’ as he watched you disappear into the night. Even if you were tucked under the arms of the enemy.

[Next]

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Taglist: @cyra-aa @plethora-of-imagines @pandasleepy07

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Sewing!Reader pt.2

Chapter 3

You and Alastor crossed the threshold of the door and as soon as the blanket of darkness took you both over, you shivered.

"You must be freezing Y/N!" Alastor said pulling away.

"Huh? Oh no I am quite alright. It is just a couple of blocks to my place." You countered to the best of your abilities but your actions put no truth into your words. You brought your arms around you in a hug as an involuntary shiver spread throughout your body.

"Well," Alastor chuckled, "if it is just a couple of blocks my dear then I suppose I will be 'quite alright' as well." Alastor reached over his shoulders bending down slightly to wrap you in his coat.

"Thank you," you said going back to his arm.

"Anything for you" he said with a satisfied grin on his face.

You two walked back to your shop in a comfortable silence. You owned the building on top of your shop and lived there. It worked well because you saved time from the commute and were not paying for two separate areas in town. Walking together, you took notice of Alastor's coat around you. Different seams were tearing and there were plenty of holes in the lining. Safety pins that proved the illusion of a well fitting jacket poked at you with each step. 'How on earth is this comfortable' you thought to yourself. The shoulder pads shifted slightly with each step as they weren't stitched down.

"I broadcast at the end of this road." Alastor broke the silence recognizing where you both were as the sewing store came into view. Why didn't he ever take notice of your shop?

"Do you now? Who would have guessed we worked so close to one another and have never crossed paths" you chimed knowing its because you liked the comfort of your home.

"Thank you for walking me home Alastor" you continued incredibly grateful for the gesture.

"Of course darling. Do you need anything else from me tonight?"

"Just for you to get home safe"

"I will. Only because you were pleasant company tonight and I look forward to seeing you again." He ended the night the way it began, a simple gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

"Why thank you doll, you're just as charming as your voice on the broadcast. Safe travels- I'll see you again." With that you waved him goodbye, a smile plastered on your face. He was just the sweetest thing to you!

Alastor made it halfway home realizing you still had his coat. 'No worries' he thought. He would just pick it up Monday on his way home from work. He was content with the night, happy a nice person such as yourself was home safe and likely tucked away sleeping.

However, as soon as Alastor was out of your view, you got to work. Sure you had the next two days to get the coat returned to Alastor but you were excited for the project. Immediately you went to your sewing tables and flipped the blazer inside out. This made it easier to see what you were working with. There was a large tear in the lining in the back middle seam. The waist was pinched by bent safety pins on both the left and right sides as well as the back to create a tailored appearance. There were rips in the armpits causing the lining to tear away and multiple inner seams were torn.

It must have been difficult for Alastor to find properly fitting clothes with how tall and lean he was. If he sized down things would be too short on his long body so sizing up and altering the appearance was his only option.

The best way to fix his coat would be to tear out and replace the lining. It needed to be taken in at the waist and armpits and the sleeves needed to be hemmed a slight amount. Getting to work, you took your supply of old flour bags and started to trace a pattern. Cheap fabric could be difficult to come by so you offered discounts to anyone who would bring you the fabric for flour bags.

The new lining was made out of a heavier duty material rather than the cheap fabric already in the suit that could hardly hold a stitch without ripping. It took a while between all the cutting and stitching but you had the lining fit and sewed into the suit. Getting ready to hem and tailor the the coat, the sun started to peer through your blinds clearly curious about your work. Being focused in your work wasn't anything new, often times you were unable to sleep when you got a new project idea in your head.

Deciding to take a break, you headed upstairs. While getting ready; changing your clothes and washing your face, just doing the daily fixings you put a cup of coffee on the burner and set some breakfast in the oven to warm up. Once finished you headed down the stairs to open your shop and get started for the day.

You had Alastor's coat to finish- which now would take half an hour at most now that the hard part was out of the way. The blanket needed to be done this weekend and a few pants and dresses to hem. Next week you would start preparing for Mimzy's dress order.

A/N Hi everyone! Sorry this is short. I have been writing out all the parts to this story and then typing them all! I intend for this story to get pretty long and will be asking for some opinions soon! Thank you for reading!!

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 3- The Business

Summary: On June 6, 1944, D-Day, C47’s with thousands of paratroopers cross the English Channel to France, where they come under heavy fire. None of you land where you’re expected to, and many lose their weapons and supplies in the drop. Even worse, you are separated from Liebgott. Fortunately, you do land near LT Winters, who links up with solitary soldiers, then set off to find other units. 

A/N:  Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Enemies to friends, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Aggression, Angst, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Wounds/Injuries, Smoking, Crying, Banter, Pining, FLUFF Chapter takes place 1x2 Day of Days & 1x3 very early Carentan

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of the historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

“Y/L/N!” Winters shout whispers to you, waving you over to come to him. 

You had landed in the middle of a field, tall grass quite overgrown, and dark as hell. You gather your chute to keep the wind from pulling you off, then hurry over to him. 

“You ok, corporal?” Winters asked.  

“Yes, sir.” You respond no louder than anyone but him to hear. 

Although you say you’re physically ok, your internal activity is utter chaos. Your eyes were constantly on the move from left to right looking for German threats, your fellow jumpers...but most importantly for Liebgott. 

During the flight, you were sitting directly across from him. You secretly wished to be next to him so you could land closer to eachother after the drop. Instead, you jumped right before LT Winters, whereas Liebgott jumped and probably landed long before you had left the plane. 

Another soldier about ten feet away hustled over. 

“Flash!” Winters called out. 

“Shit!” The unknown soldier responded. 

“I don't think that's the correct reply, trooper. I say 'flash,’ you say ‘thunder.’” Winters advised him. 

“Yessir.” The soldier replied nervously. 

The unfamiliar soldier was Private John Hall from Able Company. He was the radio man until he lost his radio in the jump. Nobody landed where they were supposed to, and it was clear that everyone was scattered.  

You remained to the rear of Hall and Winters to secure behind you in case any Germans approached from behind. The three of you make it to a tree line and enter the woods to get some proper concealment.  

“We'll locate some landmarks to get our bearings. Keep your eyes peeled for buildings, farmhouses, bridges, roads, trees.” Winter instructed. 

You hear a rustle in the thicket across the stream from where you had been walking. Winters motioned for you all to camouflage yourselves against the brush of some bushes. Winters takes his clicker, then signals to who he deduced were American soldiers by clicking twice. Four clicks in response confirmed they were Easy Company members. 

“Lieutenant Winters, is that you?” Lipton questioned. 

Sergeant Lipton along with two paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne crossed the stream and you all kneeled in a circle to figure out the next course of action. 

“Sir, I saw a sign back that aways, said, ‘Sainte-Mère-Église.’” Lipton declared. 

Winters pulled out a map, flashlight and small compass, while an 82nd troop threw a raincoat over him for light control so not to give away your position. 

Winters stated it was at least a four hour walk to the assembly point, so you all got walking. You run into Privates Malarkey and Rob “Popeye” Wynn, as well as Corporal Joe Toye. 

Easy Company began greeting eachother, relieved to see that some of you made it safe to the ground. Toye gave you a few heavy pats on the back. 

“Son of a bitch! You made it, doll!” Toye acknowledged, impressed by your gumption to survive such a vicious drop. 

“Good to see you, L/N!” Malarkey was all smiles as he brought you in for a one-armed hug.   

When you pulled away, his facial expression turned uneasy. 

“Seen Joe?” He asked concerned. 

You could only shake your head, too afraid to speak about it outloud so not to make the worst-case scenario a reality. 

Malarkey put a hand on your shoulder giving you an encouraging squeeze. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” He whispered to you. You each exchange weak smiles. 

You start the convoy following the train tracks to your next destination. As you’re walking you hear another rustle from behind. 

“Flash!” Winters called. 

“Thunder! LT Winters? Is that you? Malarkey?” A very familiar voice responded. 

Fire and bile bubbled in the pit of your stomach...Guarnere. Just what you needed. You yearned for Liebgott to be here with you now that Guarnere had joined up with you guys. 

“Hey, fellas!! Good to see ya, Lark! Toye!” Guarnere beamed. 

As soon as he saw you, he grimaced, spit at the ground the turned around to face Winters. 

“Guarnere, keep moving. You and Hall up front.” Winters directed. 

After an unfortunate run in with a group of Germans, you push forward towards Sainte-Mère-Église. 

It was the longest night ever but as daylight broke, you come upon what looks to be a small farm with several dead Germans lying under a dead paratrooper hanging by his parachute cords from a tree. The group scrounge any supplies left from the casualties, then continued the trek to the assembly point. 

Finally, you see in the short distance where the rallying point is. A small town with bombed out buildings served as an assembly point for the Regiment to regroup. After you pass the cow carcasses made to be a makeshift check point at the entrance of the village, you inadvertently start trailing your team as you desperately scoured the main street for Liebgott.  

Your heart began to sink into a whirlpool of despair. Your chest starts to tighten as tears begin to cloud your vision causing the world to close in on you. The voices of the men around you are muffled and distant. You wouldn’t even know or care if any of them were speaking directly to you because it felt like everything was crumbling around you. All because Joe was nowhere to be seen or heard. 

Lost in your own underworld, ready to yield to what you thought was the inevitable, you clearly hear a single voice that heaves you from your sorrowful conviction.  

“Easy Company!” You hear through the crowd. 

Only Joe Liebgott’s voice could revive you from this morbid state.  

“That has to be him!” You think to yourself. 

Your breath hitched as you frantically searched for him. So many men wearing the same uniform made it almost impossible to tell one from the other. Your ability to speak was muted by distress, you couldn’t even bring yourself to call out to him. You almost thought you imagined hearing him at all, until at last, you look ahead up the road, and off to the side, you see him. A wave of relief rains onto you as you stand there stunned.  

He shakes Guarnere’s hand. 

“Bill! Good to see ya.” Liebgott gestured with a smile. 

His expression shifted to concern when he didn’t see you right away. He started to push through the crowd in hopes of finding you. The guys parted a path for him to see you at the other end of the street, motionless as your eyes finally meet.  

Joe, excitement spreading across his face, hurried to you. Your legs fail you, bringing you to the ground on your hands and knees. 

“Y/F/N!” Liebgott wailed as he broke into a full-on sprint towards you. 

When he reached you, he threw himself to his knees in front of you scooping you into his arms. 

“Y/N?? Look at me! Are you hurt?”  

He brought his face level with yours, trying to look at you. When you finally look up, he held your head between his strong hands to keep your face straight towards his. Tear streaks stained your filthy cheeks. Puzzled, he tilted his head studying you. He took the sleeve of his uniform and gently wiped your face and with his other hand cradled your head. You bring your hands up and hold his hand that supported your head, leaning into his touch. 

He looks you over, trying to find any signs of injury. He looks upon you fervently, affectionately running his thumb across your cheekbone. He’s waiting for you say something, anything to reassure him that you’re ok.  

Your tears continue to flow, but you’re smiling. 

Liebgott chuckled from confusion. 

“Y/N, why the hell are you crying?” He asked you. 

After a long pause, and a much-needed exhale after holding your breath for so long, you say,  

“I thought I’d never see you again...”  

He was pleasantly shocked by your response, not to mention absolutely elated. His smug grin surfaced as he gently helped you to your feet. 

His hands gripped your shoulders keeping you stable while your hands rested on his chest. He tenderly shifted your head side to side by your chin to examine your face for any scratches or abrasions...or he wanted an excuse to look at you which was likely the case. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He stated with that unmistakable confidence. 

He smiled at you then winked, sending you into a flutter of euphoria.  

“So, you missed me, huh?” He added. 

You punch him in the shoulder then hug eachother like you’re not right in the middle of a gruesome invasion of Europe.  

But you had missed him. You were afraid for him...terrified. Joe had an unshakable presence of rage that drove him straight to the center of danger with no regard for his own well-being. His love language was sarcasm and any form of banter, so if he ever did feel fear, it was never terribly noticeable.  

It didn’t matter right now, though. You finally found Joe. Nothing or nobody else was more important.  

~~~~~~~ 

Winters was told to select some men and lead an assault on a French estate called Brécourt, about 300 yards from where you all were rallied. The Germans have installed four 88mm antitank cannons that were firing directly on Utah Beach and inflicting heavy casualties. Easy Company’s objective was to flank the Germans from behind and demobilize them so American soldiers had safe passage onto the beachhead.  

Only having 13 Easy Company members accounted for, this left them having to borrow men from other companies that they picked up on the way to the town after the drop. 

Winters addressed the 13 troops that were selected to go on this next mission. This included Liebgott and yourself. 

“The 88s we’ve been hearing have been spotted in a field down the road a ways. Major Strayer wants us to take them out.” 

He had a sheet of blank paper with a map in the center of the circle of soldiers. 

“There are two guns that we know of firing on Utah Beach.” Winters drew x’s on the paper signifying where they were located then continued. 

“Plan on a third and fourth here and here.” He drew two more x’s before proceeding. 

“The Germans are in the trenches with access to the entire battery. With machine gun covering the rear. We’ll establish a base of fire and move under it hard and fast with two squads of three.” 

“How many Krauts they think we’re facing?” Guarnere interrupted. 

Winters paused. 

“No idea.” He responded. 

“No idea?” Guarnere retorted while rolling his eyes. 

Winters returned to the brief disregarding Guarnere’s passive attitude. 

“We’ll take some TNT along with us. Despite the guns. Lipton, your responsibility.” 

“Yes, sir.” Lipton replied. 

“Liebgott, you’ll take the first machine gun, with Petty A-gunner.” Winters instructed. Liebgott only nodded. 

“Plesha, Hendrix, you take over the other. Who does that leave?” Winters asked collectively. 

You, Malarkey, Toye, Guarnere, and Compton raise your hands. 

“Okay. We’ll be making the main assault. Understood?” Winter added. 

You collectively replied “Yes, sir.” 

“Alright, let’s pack it up.” Winter ordered. 

You all gather outside to prepare your gear. Winters approached you as you crouched organizing your med supplies. 

“Y/L/N.” 

“Sir?” You say standing quickly, facing Winters. 

“I’ll need you more towards the rear, so we have the best chance of maintaining our medical assist in case anyone gets hurt.” Winters ordered. 

“But, sir-” You began. 

“Remain to the rear.” Winters repeated sternly before you could finish.  

You look at him wanting to protest his order, but only sigh reluctantly. 

“To the rear.” You confirmed. 

You return to prepacking your gear begrudgingly. Liebgott watched you and chuckled. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He looked over to you.  

“You’re cute when you're upset.” He admitted. 

Unamused, you decide not to dignify with comment and keep packing your stuff. 

~~~~~~~ 

“MEDIC!!” You hear from a distance after heavy gunfire and explosions unleash relentlessly onto Easy. 

You run and duck, racing in the direction of the yelling, weaving and bobbing trying to avoid getting hit by any oncoming enemy fire. You couldn’t hear anything except your own heartbeat as you ran, but managed to find the spot where you were needed. 

You jump feet first into the trench, finding Guarnere, Compton, and Lorraine, with ‘Popeye’ Wynn lying on his side crying out in pain. 

“I’m sorry, sir!!” Wynn kept yelling. 

“Where you hit, Pop?” You shouted. 

“Right in the ass!” He yelped. 

Compton, Guarnere, and Lorraine laid suppressive fire while you worked on Wynn.  

“Lay on your stomach, Pop, I need to see!” You direct him helping turn over onto his front. 

You cut through the hole on the seat Wynn’s pants where the bullet made contact, exposing the wound. 

“Goddam it, I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to fuck up!” Wynn called out to Compton. 

“Pop, just stay still! You’re gonna be fine, buddy.” You tell him as you applied pressure to his wound reaching for your clot powder and bandages.  

You project your voice to Wynn, but it’s calm and steady so not to alarm him. The slightest hint of terror in your voice only makes things worse for the wounded was something Doc Roe told you. 

“You think you can make it back yourself?” Compton shouted out to you and Wynn. 

You both look up at him. 

“I think so, sir!” Wynn responded. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, sir.” You declared. 

Corporal Y/L/N, you’re going with Pop to make sure he gets back!” Compton ordered. 

“With all due respect, sir, I’m needed here. I’m staying!” You argued as you helped Wynn to his feet to shove him out of the trench. 

Compton grunted in frustration. 

“He wasn’t asking ya, he was tellin’ ya.” Guarnere snapped at you. 

“And I wasn’t talkin’ to you, Guarnere! You just hold the line while I do my job!” You returned with ice in your voice. You carefully crawl out of the trench to go find anyone else that might need your help. 

Guarnere scoffed to himself amused by your response. 

~~~~~~~ 

Easy Company along with Spiers’ Dog Company claimed victory at Brécourt, securing the beachhead. 

As the two units walked back to the assembly point back at the town, Liebgott caught up with you. 

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” He asked right away. He looked you over and noticed blood stains on your uniform. 

You sense his panic, “Don’t worry, it’s not mine. I’m fine, Joe.” You reassure.  

He exhaled then gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, smiling at you when you looked at him. 

“Good.” He replied. “I’ll find you later, Gams.” He added with a wink, then rushed off ahead. 

You laugh to yourself, a fuzzy feeling rising within you that only Joe could produce after such a horrific situation.  

~~~~~~~

That night was spent recovering. The following day orders were given to maneuver to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force’s tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.  

“Listen up!” LT Welsh shouted. “It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division.”  

Some of the men begin to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan. 

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan, Liebgott makes sure to keep you in his peripherals. You’re behind Toye, who’s talking to Guarnere in front of him. 

“Heard Y/L/N gave you the business back at Brécourt, Bill.” Toye teased him. 

“Ah shit, Toye, why?” You whispered to him, not thrilled about the instigation. 

Guarnere was unusually quiet at first. Probably thinking of something snarky to say about you. 

“She sure did, Joe.” He finally responded almost warmly. 

Guarnere looked back at you giving you a small smirk before he added, “Ya did good out there, kid.” He complimented you. 

You were surprised to say the least. You’ve earned Guarnere’s respect because you didn’t allow his indifference towards you to break you during combat. Not only did you not allow him to shake you, but you also dished some attitude in return, reminding him to keep his focus on the battle. Things were going to be different between you and ‘Wild Bill’ Guarnere.   ~~~~~~~ 

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (19)

Chapter: 19. Trapped

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Summary: The hunt for the cross continues as it's stolen from the pogues, y/n and her friends go on a chase to save it, and now Sarah.

Warnings: language, violence, car accidents, kidnapping, not fully proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

Links: Wattpad - AO3 - Playlist

Chapter 18 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 20

The next few hours were a blur, everything happened so fast, you couldn’t process it through the tears and anxiety. Pope had fallen, and the cross came soon after- you all successfully dodged it, but as you were figuring out what to do with the cross and how to carry the heavy-ass pure gold cross, Pope had an allergic reaction to the wasps that stung him.

JJ’s cousin Ricky came in clutch giving him a pediatric dose of epinephrine, it had everyone freaking out for a couple half an hour on whether or not he was going to make it. Thankfully he was revived but unfortunately because of how hyped up he was due to the side effects, he insisted and driving and crashing Kie’s dad's truck straight into an oak tree.

So much for him ripping the ears off of everyone inside of the car. 

After everyone safely exited the car John B tried stopping him from getting run over by a semi, you noticed the person driving the truck and the person in the passenger seat as Rafe and Renfield who were driving from the direction of the church.

It was gone.

Pope was pissed as hell but coming back to the church and not seeing that cross there had lit a fire of determination in him. You all went straight to the Chateau for the Twinkie and drove back to the road where the accident happened.

“Oh shit!” Kie groaned. “They found the truck.”

Several police cars blocked off the road where it was, John B had no other choice but to stop as Shoupe approached the van.

“Good evening, Officer,” John B squinted as the cop pointed the flashlight into the car.

“Sheriff,” He corrected.

“Speed kills, huh,” John B joked about the scene of the totaled truck.

“I pulled the tags and I know whose truck that is,” Shoupe pointed the flashlight through the driver's seat window and to the back of the truck where Kie was sitting behind the passenger seat in a ball, hiding from view. “Hey, Kie! You drop your weed pen back there?”

“Found it,” Kie gave Shoupe a thumbs up with a weak smile.

Pope who was behind John B’s seat, spoke up between the headrest and the door, “Sheriff, I just wanna say that this is all my fault. She had nothing to do with this, I take a hundred percent full responsibility.”

“Nothing to do with it, huh?” Shoupe scoffed, “You wanna try that again? Your parents reported the truck missing four hours ago and the keys were missing from the house, I’m taking you home or I can pull you all in for leaving the scene of an accident.”

You exhaled stressfully and rubbed your temples, not one day, not one day without a break.

“I gotta deal,” Kie gave you a ‘save me’ look. You sent her a pitiful smile knowing that it wasn't going to go down well for her. “Hit me up later and make sure I’m still alive.”

The rest of you would have to retrieve the cross without her.

The truck that carried the cross had just pulled up to the Cameron house as the five of you did.

“How much you wanna bet Rafe has the cross inside that truck right now?” Pope comments as you all peer over the concrete wall to get a better look at what was going on.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sarah walks in the direction of the front gate. John B goes after her and catches her before she’s gone.

“Jesus Christ,” You facepalm and lean your head against the wall. You hear Pope and JJ make their own comments in protest of wasting time for declarations of love.

Pope whispers to him as John B limps back to you, JJ, and Pope with a dopey smile, “Do you want me to perform your vows while you’re at it?”

“Did you say ‘be safe’?” JJ asks.

“Could you take any longer?” You drawl out sarcastically. Part of you was actually bitter about your own love life and part of you was concerned about the time frame for whatever Sarah had planned, “What is she doing?”

You could make out her figure sneaking around the truck and shrugging, you could see barely hear her whisper something about keys. You whisper shout for her to come back but she points to the inside. All of you try signaling for her not to but she goes in anyway.

“I told her not to go inside,” John B says.

“Do the birdcall,” Pope tells him, though you're not sure that would help since she was already through the glass doors.

John B cups his hands around his mouth to make Coo-Coo sound but with his hesitation, it sounded nothing like it was supposed to.

“That is not what a bird sounds like,” You judge.

“You try doing something better then.”

“Too late, dipshit, she’s already inside. Maybe next time I’ll do a detailed demonstration for you.”

“Whatever, I’m going over,” John B uses the strength from his arms to push himself up from the top of the wall but a horn was honking from the street. You turn and see the headlights from a golf cart roll up.

“Uh, excuse me, can I help you?” An old white man with a shotgun stops where the four of you were caught in the act of going halfway up the wall. He cocked the gun and chuckles, “I got double-aught bucks in this thing, so, I can’t miss.”

He steps out of the slow vehicle and warns you all to get off the wall, you slip down it with your hands in the air, anxiety creeping in. What if he called the cops? What if he made you all confront Rafe? What if he shot you?

“Sir, It’s not what it seems,” JJ speaks up beside you.

“You all are on the wrong side of the island.” He keeps the long gun pointed at you as he tells you all to get on your knees, “I think I’m gonna call the police.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir,” JJ pleads calmly.

“I’ll decide for myself what I need to do.”

“Sir, Can I just talk to you for a minute?” You stutter a little nervously, there was a chance he would believe a girl more than he would the boys, so you would have to fabricate a story. “Just to explain.”

You get up from your knees slowly, John B tugged at your flannel but you ignored him. “I know what this looks like, but I promise this is all a misunderstanding. We look like some derelict kids from the cut but we weren’t that to Mr. Cameron, he gave me and my brother a job, I did some housework for him and his wife, and my brother did some yard work along with my boyfriend, and our friend. See I’m just going along with their plan to get an associate of theirs, s-some row flowers for his memorial.”

He lets his gun falter, “Now why are you three boys letting this poor girl do all the talking?”

JJ struggles to get himself up from the kneeling position as you back up into his place, “Sorry, sir, you’re right. She’s right, we’ve just had such a hard time dealing with his death-”

You tune out the story he tells the old man who let his guard down with every lie that slipped out of his mouth. In the time JJ came up with a ridiculous tale about where the flowers you were all going to ‘plant for Mr. Cameron’ came from and why it was relevant, Sarah had still not come back. You were getting antsy but you couldn’t let it show in front of the man that was eating up JJ’s lie.

“You smell that right?” JJ asks the man.

He sniffs, “What is that, night-blooming jasmine?”

“No, that’s more like,” JJ thinks about it for a second, he knows nothing about flowers or plants. “Natural Viagra.”

Your eyes widen, “Okay!”

The boys beside you try to get JJ to stop now but the old guy seemed genuinely interested which concerned you more.

“One sniff and bam!” JJ claps his hands, “It’s hammer time you know what I’m saying. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Your jaw drops, one of his arms goes around your shoulders pulling you closer and the other leads the man to his golf cart, like a couple walking out the last guest from a dinner party. John B grabs your wrist and pulls you from under JJ.

“We’ll be quiet, alright, and we’ll finish up here. I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“See that you do,” He seats himself back into the cart and drives off muttering to himself. “I gotta get myself some of that.”

Once he was out of view, JJ hops over the wall, “Let’s go.”

“What the fuck,” You whisper to yourself.

“What the fuck was that for real,” John B helps you climb over before going himself. The four of you hide behind the bushes trying to get a peek or a sign of Sarah anywhere. Rafe comes out of the same doors Sarah once went in.

John B surges forward only to be pulled back by Pope and JJ. “What do we do then?”

“He might have the gun so what’s in our favor?” JJ snaps his fingers to think, “The element of surprise, that’s what’s in our favor right now.”

“He’s leaving, there's not much you can do there,” You tell them. Pope whispers something and seconds later he’s running after the truck and jumping onto whatever he can grab on. “Has everyone lost their minds?”

“We got the house now that Rafes gone, let's storm the fort.”

Noise from the front door caught your attention, Rose and Wheezie had Sarah’s arms around their shoulders. If Sarah wasn’t moving they must have done something to her to knock her out.

“Let’s go!” John B shouts at you and JJ, running after Rose’s car.

“This is so fucked,” You run to the Twinkie to follow after them because there was no way they were going to get Sarah out. John B and JJ were running back as you slowed down for them to get in.

~~~

The sun rose for the next day as John B tailed Rose’s car to where they loaded up ships with cargo. You parked in a semi-discrete area and snuck behind the slow-moving semi that stopped for a security check.

While the guard was busy talking to Rafe, you, JJ, and John B snuck through the metal gate and weaved through large materials meant to fix or be put on the ships. You hide behind some large rusted metal thing that you couldn’t name, watching Rafe proudly talk to the other guys around him.

“God, I hate that guy,” JJ exhaled.

You shifted your attention to where Rose’s car was parked, Sarah was being brought out of the car.

“JJ, we gotta come up with a plan,” John B anxiously stares at the boy. Once again, it was you three alone, probably the worst trio combined. JJ with his plans, John B with the follow-through, and you with the backup in case anyone (meaning either of them) needed it.

“I know, I’m working on it. If we get over to that barge, we go over, we’ll have to get into the water though.”

“That’s fine,” John B replied.

“Then we’re gonna be sitting ducks.”

“It’s like you say you’re thinking but then what comes out of your mouth has no thought behind it at all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get it approved by you first, princess.”

“Apology not accepted, you’re plan sucks, and Sarah’s gonna die,” You clutch your head. “How about-”

“Howdy,” A feminine voice comes up randomly behind you and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Holy shit, girl I almost bitch slapped you to yesterday!” Your hands that were clutching your head were now on your chest. You hug Kie in relief at seeing her alive and present despite the shit her parents gave her.

She chuckled, “Had you scared shitless.”

“How’d you guys find us?” You saw Pope come from the same place she did.

“Geo-located your phone.”

“Smart.”

Observing the state of Pope, John B asked what happened.

“Rafe, Round 3.”

“You freaking kidding me?” JJ grabs Pope to face him but he moves out of his hold.

“This was a tie, is that the cross?”

“Yep, they’re holding Sarah hostage,” John B informs Pope and Kie of the new development.

“We gotta get on that boat, but first we gotta get past the goon squad.”

“Okay, come on,” John B waves over for everyone to follow him but there was no plan. Pope doesn’t move from his spot.

“I have an idea, just trust me.”

John B tries to stop him but Pope reassures him that he’ll meet up with the group after. You just hoped he didn’t get caught in whatever he was planning but then again Pope was smart, he wouldn’t do anything to create attention to himself.

Not a second after you thought about how calculated he was, there was an explosion in the direction where he went. All the crew members bolted to the explosion sight.

“What the hell was that?” You ask Pope who panted from his running.

“That container’s going on the ship, we can get in that way,” He pointed. Thanks to his huge distraction, the path where he was directing you all, was free.

“Poopy, you badass!” You pat him on the shoulder, hyping yourself up to make a run for the said container.

At the entrance of the metal box, JJ pauses, “Did we think this through?”

Pope nods assuredly, “Yes, this is the plan.”

“That’s a trap right there, you see that right?” He points to the container that Pope already climbed on, “We can’t get out once we get in.”

Now that JJ was mentioning it, he was right. This container was going on a ship, God knows where, if you got caught it could be jail time or whatever the punishment was for sneaking onto a ship illegally. Not to mention if Rafe or Rose found you, that would be an execution itself.

“You guys don’t have to come,” John B has a hand on JJ’s shoulder and a hand on yours.

“Right, this is our fight,” Pope agreed.

Doubt clouded your loyalty, but you shook it away. Your friend was on the ship, your brother was going, and Pope needed the support to get the cross. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them now after all you had been through together.

JJ looks to Kie, “Nothing to lose?”

“Nothing to lose.”

John B climbs into the container, Pope helps Kie in.

“All in?” JJ climbed into where Pope once was and reached out a hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you up.

Your bodies almost colliding from the momentum of you coming up, your faces inches apart in a second your eyes flicker to his lips, “All in.”

“Y/n, JJ, let’s go!” John B shouts. The sound of heavy footsteps that were no doubt the crew member returning to their posts. You and your friends hide at the very end of the container, behind the dozens of stacked crates.

You saw the sunlight fade as the worker closes the container shut.

~~~

One more chapter to go til season 2 is complete!!

Chapter 20

Taglist:

@jbassettjmaybank - @deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @wisegirlies - @instabull - @sexyfoxlady - @bubs-world - @sdawn03 - @mendesclines - @obx-pogues-4-life - @mentalforfics - @p-prettybitch - @namacissi - @dczedhee - @inkandpen22 - @royalavenger - @ayeitsjustmee - @80strashbag - @onlyangel-444 - @freds-slut - @poppet05 - @itsjuststaticnoises - @ahnneyong - @lovepizza567 - @jasminfelling - @rana03 - @loki-loveer - @rana030 - @lostinatimeline - @boldlypessimistic - @clinelyn - @a-j-stuffs - @yunhobug - @syd223sworld - @strawberry--fawn - @mysticalavenuecheesecake - @itsmytimetoodream - @natashtessabeth12 - @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

(If your name is crossed that means tumblr wont let me tag you)

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 21

Masterlist

Warning: panic attack, nightmare, mention of past turture, trauma dump, religious abuse, mention of murder, protective avengers

Word count: 5.1k (we are less than 3,000 words from this fic being over 100,000 words)

Wanda enjoyed this alone time as she mediated with her thoughts and how things in her life were changing. Sometimes her thoughts scarred and worried her. At times they were dark and depressing but she knew there was light at the end of the tunnel. The witch smiled. “I know your there,” she said. Her accent was thicker when she was in this state. Wanda opened her eyes and saw Vision standing in the doorway. He looked worried and conflicted. “What’s wrong?” She asked as her feet touched the ground.

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try,” Wanda said. The android sighed, closing the door and sitting down in the empty chair.

“Miss. Y/n and I played a game of chess last night and she seemed rather upset,” Wanda frowned. She must have not gone back to bed once they left her. “We talked a bit and when she was going back to bed she asked if she could touch the mind stone and I let her.”

“You did what?” Wanda questioned in disbelief.

“I know it was incredibly irresponsible -”

“It could have killed her!” She knew her eyes flashed a hit of red but Vision remained calm. Gods, he was one of the smartest individual in the tower but he lacked such common sense.

“But it didn’t,” he folded his hands. “Similar to how it didn’t kill you or your brother when you came into contact with it.” He was right. It didn’t kill them but it changed them. “I know it was wrong of me to do but she trusted me enough. Doesn’t that say something?” Wanda nodded, taking a calming breath.

“What happened?” She asked and pulled up a chair to sit down with him.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “I do no know. She touched the stone and normally I can know what occurred similar to when you touch it. But I felt nothing. It was as if the stone didn’t want me to see what it showed her,” Wanda’s frown deepened. “I asked what she saw but she claimed she saw nothing.”

“Is she in danger?” Wanda asked. She would do anything to keep the young girl safe.

“I don’t know,” Vision admitted. “But something is coming and I fear our young friend may be caught in the cross fire. Maybe if you can get her to confess what she saw in the mind realm it could give us a clue on how to protect her.”

*

“What is happening?” Wanda asked as she stepped out of the elevator. Her head was spinning with Vision’s warning. She made him promise to keep it between them until they could get more information. It was unnecessary to worry the team if they weren’t sure something was coming. During the elevator ride up to her floor, she tossed around the idea of telling Natasha. She wasn’t sure yet. She was in need of a cold shower to clear her head but she saw Kate with scissors in her hand about to cut Y/n’s hair. The archer froze, smiling as if she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“She wanted a hair cut and no on that was qualified enough to cut hair was around,” Kate explained. “So here we are.” Wanda crossed her arms with an amused smile on her face.

“And you couldn’t wait for someone?” The young girl giggled.

“I did suggest that,” Kate defended. “But it’s very hard to say no to that face especially when she gives you puppy dog eyes.” The eyes in questioned locked onto her green ones. They were so much brighter compared to when she first saw that girl on the side of the road. Wanda promised herself to never let that light go out. With a sigh, she walked over the duo.

“Give me the scissors,” Kate sighed in relief and handed them over to Wanda.

“A life savor,” The archer praised. “Truly a life savor. I owe you a great debt Wanda Maximoff,” the witch rolled her eyes and stood behind the girl. “Now I have to go call Clint. See ya.”

“Bye Kate,” Y/n waved. “Tell everyone I say hi!” The archer gave a salute and headed off towards her room.

“So,” Wanda said, gently brushing her hair. It was freshly washed and it came down to the middle of her back. “Why do you want to cut your hair?” Wanda watched the girl’s shoulders move up and down.

“Never liked my hair long,” she began. “But no one would cut it when I was growing up and I didn’t really let people touch me to cut it,” she sighed. “I remember finding kid scissors in my brother’s room and I tried to cut it myself,” her body shook as she laughed. “Didn’t go well as you can imagine.” Wanda smiled as she set the brush down. “I was grounded for 2 weeks because of the mess I made,” her voice got soft. “I still have the scar on my shoulder where my father grabbed me and threw me into the wall.” Anger bubbled in Wanda’s chest. It was a mystery to her on how a father could hurt his child. She pushed the feeling down.

“How short are we thinking?” Wanda asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

“Maybe to my shoulders and we can go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wanda began to cut the long hair that was desperately need of a good cut. She wondered why her or Natasha didn’t suggest this to the teen earlier. Were there other things they were neglecting? “Vision told me that you and he played chest last night,” Wanda said. “Could you not fall asleep after your nightmare?” The teen shook her head. “Keep your head still,” the witch giggled.

“Sorry,” she said and Wanda could hear the smile in her voice. “I tried to,” she continued. “The room felt to small so I walked around the tower and found Vision. I like him. There is something abut him that makes me feel safe,” Wanda understood that feeling. He helped her overcome her grief of losing her brother and her actions in Laos.

“How are you feeling?” It took a minute for the girl to answer as she did a mental category of everything.

“Good, just a little tired and I have a headache but Kate gave me something for that.” The problem was Wanda felt the girl’s honestly and what worried her more was she wasn’t holding anything back. Wanda’s frown deepened. “Are you mad at Vision because he let me touch the mind stone?” The witch sighed.

“No, honey, but it was very dangerous and you could have gotten hurt.” The girl twisted around in the chair to face her.

“I didn’t see anything,” she said. “I promise. If I did I would tell you,” Wanda smiled.

“It’s okay, I believe you. Now,” she gently turned the teen forward. “Stop moving so I can finish cutting your hair.” The witch believed her. She felt no dishonestly in her words or in her mind. Whatever she saw or whoever she spoke with made her forget what she saw. That worried Wanda even more.

*

You didn’t like the feeling of loose hair on your neck so you took a quick shower once Wanda was done. You loved your hair, it was short and easy to manage. So many times people grabbed onto your hair to hold you in place or pull you back. It was nice to be free from that. You hung up the towel when your hair was dry and walked out of your room. “You cut your hair!” America exclaimed when you entered the main area. Her and Yelena were sitting on the couch with Natasha in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling your face flush at the attention. “Do you like it?” She continued to stare at you until Yelena hit her in the stomach.

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “It looks good. Yeah, good,” the blonde rolled her eyes and mumbled, ‘Ya Delayu Eto (idiot).’ “What did you just call me?” You giggled and sat down at the kitchen counter.

“Wanda said you asked her to cut your hair,” Natasha said.

“Actually, I asked Kate but Wanda took the scissors from her,” you giggled.

“That is probably for the best,” Yelena said, appearing next to her sister. “She would not have done a good job.” You smiled. Yelena hit her hip against the redhead, you didn’t like the way both of them were looking at you. You raised your eyebrow in question.

“Do you want to join Yelena and I for a walk?” You looked between knowing well they were hiding something.

“Yeah sure,” you said. “Sounds like fun.” You expected them to lead you outside to walk around a park but they lead you to the training area and onto the track. It was surrounded by windows that over locked the city and letting natural light in. You wondered what it would look like in the winter. The Black Widow due walked on either side of you. “So,” you said after you finished the first lap. “Are you going to tell me what you really want to talk about?” Yelena chuckled.

“There is no keeping secrets from this one,” you nodded your eyes.

“Helen suggested that adding exercise can aid in your recovery,” Natasha explained. “Plus I agree with Wanda and I think it’s a good idea to train your abilities so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Will that make me an Avenger?”

“Do you want to be an Avenger?” You shrugged.

“Not really. Seems like a lot of paperwork.” Yelena laughed.

“You are so right,” she said. “Those mission reports give me nightmares.” Natasha pinched her sister which caused the blonde to yelp. “It’s true! Maria made me redo one 3 times!”

“That’s because you wrote the entire thing in hieroglyphics, then piglatin, and finally English,” Yelena shrugged.

“As Deputy Director she should be well versed in multiple languages,” Natasha shook her head with a sigh. You liked watching the two Black Widows interact with one another. There were moments where you saw Caleb and yourself in them. They desperately wanted to protect one another, it was the same for you. But there were times you wished you and Caleb could be more playful as they were; joking around and teasing with one another. You both were focused on surviving. Sometimes you would sneak into his room and talk and () your laughter so you wouldn’t get caught. You loved those memories. “Natasha talked to Steve and myself, Wanda, or Maria will be helping you train. As well as Nat,” she added. It was a good plan and you felt safe with those people.

“There is more we need to talk about,” you figured as much. “Helen also said there is damage to your hippocampus. There is ways to heal it; exercising being one of them and you need to stop hurting yourself.” You never planned to let it get that bad again. You felt guilty for worrying everyone.

“Hippocampus,” you repeated back to her. “What is that?”

“It’s part of your brain that helps with memory,” Yelena answered. “Have you been experiencing memory loss?” You weren’t sure. There were moments you could remember crystal clear like you were watching a movie. Your memories when you were with HYDRA or living on the streets, there were gaps. Not everything was clear but you chalked it up to your brain protecting you from traumatic events. You nodded. “Those memories may come back,” you frowned, stopping in your tracks. The duo kept walking before stopping when they realized you weren’t following.

“What’s wrong, dorogoy (sweetheart)?” Natasha asked, walking back over to you.

“I don’t want to remember,” you whispered. You didn’t. You wanted to forget all the pain you caused, the blood on your hands, and the screams. The screams were the worst part. “I want to forget all those horrible things they made me do.”

“Who is they?” Natasha knelt in front of you, gently taking your hands in hers. There was a burning feeling to tell them. To come clean and wash away all the hidden secrets. They must know, right? You’ve told them you’ve killed, the your hands have been tainted red with blood. What other organization was in the business of kidnapping people and turning them into weapons? They were waiting for you to tell them, to take that leap of faith.

“HYDRA,” your voice shook. “They took me off the streets, promised me a safe place to sleep and food. I didn’t-” your lips trembled. “I didn’t want to do it.”

“Oh I know,” Natasha cooed, whipping away your tears tat fell. “Your okay,” she promised. “They won’t hurt you, never again.” You believed her and she brought you into a tight hug. You burrowed your face in her shirt, letting more tears fall.

“It’s hard when you start to remember the things you’ve done,” you turned to face the blood, still wrapped in Natasha’s arms. She was leaning against the railing with a frown on her face, starring at her shoes. “It’s like a scab over a cut so you always know it’s there but the cut opens it seems to hurt more than the first time.” Finally, she looked at you. The look in eyes reminded you of that day in the gun range, far off and dazed.

“How do you move on?” You asked softly. She chuckled, looking away. She clicked her tongue to the rood of her mouth.

“Like a scar, it takes time,” you wished she had a different answer.

“But you have us,” your attention went back to the Black Widow. “You are safe here and no matter what happened in your past it won’t change how we see you now.”

“Promise?” You questioned.

“Promise.” Yelena reassured you.

*

You stayed in your room until dinner, going over what Natasha and Yelena said. You were exhausted and grateful that those around you didn’t force you talk talk, you needed the quiet to decompress. Even Helen’s voice rang in your head, ‘you need to let them in and allow them to shoulder that fear with you.’ Oh but you were so scared to do that. Even with the promise that they wouldn’t look at you differently, you were still scared. So when dinner came around, you didn’t engage in the conversation as they asked Bruce how Wakanda was. Instead, you pushed your food around your plate to lost in your own thoughts. Once dinner was put away, Tony ordered ice cream for everyone. It was suppose to be a fun team bonding experience but the ice cream made your stomach twist as you listened to the team talk and laugh. “Hey,” America whispered, pumping your shoulder against yours. “Are you okay?” You sighed, not meaning it to be loud enough to grab the attention of other other Avengers. You swirled your spoon in your ice cream so the colors were mixed together.

“I,” you sighed again, feeling angry with yourself for not finding the correct words. “I want to tell all of you about what happened to me, if that’s okay?” The mood of the group shifted and you felt a little bad but you needed to do this now before you lost the courage.

“Of course, " Wanda smiled. “Take your time.” You crossed your legs and focused on your ice cream.

“I was born with this ability,” you started. You knew some of them knew that but you thought it was good to start from the beginning. Dropping your spoon, electricity danced around your fingers. “They didn’t surface until I was about 4 but even then my parents made it clear they wanted nothing to do with me,” you took another spoonful of your ice cream, hand shaking slightly. “They didn’t want a second kid and my mother didn’t know she was pregnant until a friend told her. He claimed God spoke to him through a dream and told him of the pregnancy. But I wasn’t going to be a gift, I was going to be a curse. That not even the Devil wanted me.” You heard Natasha scuff. You smiled at the sound, imagining the red head rolled her eyes and Wanda quietly having to tell her to behave. You kept your eyes trained down. “So they kept me a secret, only a trusted few new about me.”

“Why didn’t they give you up for adoption?” ate questioned. It was a good one that you asked yourself all the time.

“I learned quickly that my father enjoyed two things; power and control,” you answered. “There I was a young girl desperate for her father’s love. I did everything I could to get it, no matter how many times he hit me,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Anyways, I accidental shocked my brother. They were furious and locked me in a small room in the basement for 3 days. The only reason I survived was Caleb bring me food and water. He had to be careful too. He was my parents’ favorite but that didn’t always protect him. When they found out I lived, they sent a priest to form an exorcism on me to get the Devil out.”

“You were 4 years old,” you heard the anger in every word Yelena said. You nodded. Your father held you down at the priest performed it. It wasn’t the only one you had to endure but they didn’t need to know that.

“Obviously, it didn’t work,” you chuckled, trying to lighten up the situation. “I remember they made me kneel in the corner and pray to God to save me. I spent hours reading over the bible,” you took another bite of your ice cream. It was melted but it was a good distraction. “That went on for a year or two until they realized I could use my powers to benefit them. I gave power to the church, our home, and those who knew I existed but it was not good enough. Every bad thing that happened I was to blame, someone leaving the church, my father getting into a chair accident, or my brother getting sick. It was all my fault and one day I snapped,” you felt America tangle her hand with your free one, squeezing it tight. You were grateful for it.

“You don’t have to continue, sweetie,” Pepper said. You smiled at the CEO. You were almost done with this section of your story.

“Caleb went to school,” you continued. “And my father wouldn’t stop yelling. I don’t remember why he was upset,” your voice began to shake. “The pressure was building and I couldn’t stop it. It became to much and I let go. I woke up to the house around me was burnt to the ground. First responders were on their way and I ran,” you finally looked up at the Black Widow, seeing nothing but warmth in her eyes. “I learned later they said it was an electrical fire but it was me.” A heavy silence fell among the group, it was Tony that broke it.

“Look I’ll be the first one to say it since we are all thinking it. They got what they deserved,” Pepper gasped, slapping the billionaire.

“Tony! I can not believe you said that!” She shirked. You fought a smile that was forming on your face.

“What? I know we are all thinking it, tell me I’m wrong!” No one said anything. “See my point. Look kid,” he stopped mid sentence. “I have words for wisdom to tell you but I fear my wife so I’ll tell you when we are alone.” You laughed, whipping away a tear that fell.

“What I think Mr. Stark is trying to say,” Vision said. “We are very sorry you had to endure that as a child.”

“Yeah, shit,” Rhodey said. But there was a second half to your story. That was a nice intermission. You finished your melted ice cream, set it on the table, and leaned back onto the couch still holding onto America’s hand. It grounded you.

“To no one’s surprise,” you continued. “I was an easy target on the streets by the other kids, adults, and authorities. I was a quiet kid to afraid to fight back because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I survived the best I could then a man approached me,” you looked down at your lap. Sometimes you felt so stupid for trusting him. “He promised me a safe place to sleep, food, and that other ids were going to be there. I went with him.”

“You weren’t stupid for believing he was telling the truth,” Sam said. You shrugged.

“He brought me this black van and he drugged me. When I came to I was in a cell and I found out I was with HYDRA. Very quickly they learned they couldn’t use their normal methods because I could redirect the electricity,” you smiled. “Pop quiz, what is great conductor for electricity?” You looked up, watching the gears turn in Bruce and Tony’s head.

“Water,” the doctor said. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the floor.

“If I didn’t complete the mission, they would fill a tub of water, force me inside,” you looked at Bucky. “And electrify it.” The color drained from this face, making his blue eyes pop. “I tried to redirect it but the onslaught was to much.”

“What did you do for them?” Steve asked.

“Anything they wanted,” you whispered. “I did everything that man told me to. I was his little spark and he was papa,” Bucky licked his lips. “I tortured, killed, and helped reset the Winter Solider,” it was so silent. You feared the could hear the beating of your heart. “Do you remember me?” You asked Bucky. “Because I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you.” God, you could hear his screams echoing in your head.

“So am I,” Bucky got up suddenly, leaving towards the direction of his room. The others watched the man leave.

“I’d go make sure he’s okay,” you told Steve. “Those few years weren’t kind to us,” the blonde hesitated to leave but you nodded. “It was an endless cycle. He’d hurt me, I’d hurt him, it wasn’t fun.”

“How did you escape?” Natasha asked. You sighed, resting your head on America’s shoulder.

“I did what I do best and burnt the place to the ground,” you said softly. “I made it back to the states and lived on the streets until Natasha found me.” You were exhausted. It was an emotionally charged day.

“Shit,” Sam said. You chuckled at the blunt comment. “Not sure if I want to hug you or hurt everyone that has hurt you.”

“Get in line, Wilson,” you saw the same anger in Natasha’s eyes when you told her about the incident a the Barrera house or when the shop owner put his hand on you. Everyone seemed to share the same look, even Bruce looked upset. You smiled.

“The past is the past,” you said. “Can’t change it. I just have to keep on moving forward.” America squeezed your hand.

“With all of us by your side.” Yeah, you thought, that sounded nice.

*

“Buck,” Steve said, chasing after the man. “Bucky, hold on.” He finally caught up to him and grabbed onto his arms. He could see that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“I can’t,” he struggled to say. His blue eyes were wide, frantically looking around. “I can’t be in the same room as her. I-”

“Sh,” Steve cut his boyfriend off. “I need you to breath for me. Can you do that for me?” Bucky hesitated but shook his head. The blonde sprang into action. He brought Bucky to the ground and sat with his back against the wall and Bucky between his legs. With Bucky’s back flushed against his front, he wrapped his arms around him. Steve started to breath, in for 5 and out for 5. Repeat. Repeat, until he felt Bucky’s breathing calm down.

Physical touch was usually never the answer to ground Bucky, especially after a nightmare. Steve learned the hard way when Bucky grabbed him by his throat and wouldn’t let go. But there were expectations to the rule especially when he couldn’t regulate his breathing. Steve rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder. He waited for Bucky to gather his thoughts. “Lately, I’ve found myself starring at her,” he began. “It was my body remembered her but my mind refused to.” Steve hummed, indicating that he was listening. “I almost killed her.” His voice shook.

“You and I both know that wasn’t you,” Steve said. Bucky turned around to face him.

“You don’t understand. When she said they held her down in that tub that was me. God Steve she’s just a kid.”

“And you were tortured and held against your will with no choice but to do those things,” Steve countered. He cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks, drawing circles with his thumb. “Do you blame her for what she did to you?”

“No..” Bucky whispered.

“Then I wish you’d offer yourself the same level of forgiveness,” Steve whipped away tears that fell from his blue eyes. “I can not fathom the guilt you carry, baby, and the path to moving forward is long and messy but you have to remember what you did for them wasn’t your choice. You were trapped,” Steve bit his lip before he could say it was partly on him that HYDRA got to Bucky but this wasn’t about him and Bucky didn’t need to hear about his guilt.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to face her.” Steve sighed, dropping his hands.

“I don’t think she blames you, Buck. But if you need time to process everything I’m sure she’ll give you that.” Bucky nodded, chuckling softly.

“What would I do without you, punk,” Steve smiled, kissing his forehead.

“Do you want to go back down or head to bed?” He had a feeling what he would chose but wanted to give him the option.

“Bed,” Steve chuckled, stood up, and pulled his boyfriend to his feet. He kept his hand tightly in his. Sam was right, the tower seemed to attract HYDRA’s puppets. He believed it was because everyone in the tower could help heal them.

*

You were fighting to keep your eyes opened as you rested on Kate’s lap with a movie playing. It was a Scooby-Doo movie but you were lost on the plot with sleep clouding your mind. Also, Kate running her fingers trough your hair wasn’t helping. But you were scared to fall asleep. You worried what monsters your mind would create. You were powerless to fight it and fell asleep.

*

On either side of you was a guard as you walked down the familiar hallways. They were armed with assault rifles and military armor with orders to shot on sight if you tried to escape. You weren’t going to escape. Every bone in your body hurt. There was a dark hole growing over your hear; accepting your fate here. They opened a door and pushed you in, not entering with you. Inside was a man, long brown hair and blue eyes. He was strapped to a chair, unable to move and no light in his eyes. The most striking part of his appearance was his one metal arm. “Hi little spark,” he stepped out of the corner. “Come here,” you took a few steps and took his out stretched hand. “This man right is very important to us. You can call him Winter.”

“Winter,” you said slowly but the man didn’t move.

“But even though he’s important to us doesn’t mean he’s free from punishment. Just like you.” you moved you behind Winter where there was a wooden box. “Up you get,” As you stood on the box, he let go of your hand. “Punish him.” He told you. You had a feeling what he wanted you to do but you couldn’t. Maybe he was mistaken. This man could die. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hands and put them on either side of his head. “I won’t ask again.” You nodded, licking your lips and focused your energy to your hands. It was a small electrical discharge, Winter didn’t make a sound. “Stronger,” you obeyed and this time Winter made a small noise. It was no where near your full strength and knew it. He grabbed on your hair and pushed you against the wall.

“Stop wasting my time,” he put his forearm against your throat. It was hard to get air into your lungs. “I will have him kill you, do you understand?” Kill me, you wanted to screamed, I want to die. You wanted this to be over.

“Yes papa,” you whispered and he released you. You sucked in some much needed air and stepped back on top of the box. Placing your hands on the side of his head, you let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled and released the electricity. He fought it and you were impressed by that. Soon he couldn’t fight it and he screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed.

*

You jerked away and fell onto the floor with a thud. “Jesus Christ,” Kate said. The movie paused. “Are you okay?” You scrambled to your feet, starring at your friends and heart pounding.

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips. “Yeah, I’m great.” You chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle everyone.” You felt your hands shake and you placed them behind your back out of view. But Yelena saw. The Black Widow stood up and took your hands in hers. You tensed at the contact, you didn’t want to hurt her.

“A nightmare?” She questioned, sitting you back down on the couch. You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “Okay, then we can sit here until you are okay.”

“I’m fine,” you didn’t believe the lie you told your friends.

“Your shaking,” America whispered. You weren’t even aware you were.

“Oh,” you spoke softly.

“It’s okay, bud. We’ll sit here and watch the movie until you feel better.” You nodded as America continued the movie. As the movie played, the visual affects and funny dialogue helped your body relax. But in the back of your mind, all you felt was fear.

When your body stopped shaking, you excused yourself to your room. You took a cold shower to wash away the dream and changed into a long sleeve shirt and sleep shorts. But you knew you weren’t going back to sleep. So you sat on your bed with a book in your hands. It was going to be a long night.

_

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[phr3ia]

Before It Ends (Jiyan x Fem!Reader) [Chapter 2 - Questions]

[2 days later...]

"Doctor! Your immediate presence is urgently required at the Desorock Highlands." The soldier burst into your office without knocking, panting as if in a rush. "General Jiyan..." he was about to say something, but you didn't even bother to listen to the soldier anymore. Without wasting a moment, you dashed out of your office with your medical bag, leaving the documents scattered across your table. You swiftly mounted the first horse you spotted and galloped out of Jinzhou in a rush. "Hyaaaaa!" you exclaimed, urging the horse to run even faster.

"Doctor! Wait!" you heard the soldier calling out from behind. "That's my horse."

"Is Jiyan's condition critical to the extent that he cannot be transported to the Capital? Is it a life-threatening situation?" These questions raced through your mind as you traveled to the Rearguard's Base. You were aware that the medics assigned in that location were capable of performing emergency surgeries on soldiers. However, you couldn't shake off the fear that General Jiyan's situation might be more dire than anticipated.

You dismounted the horse and hurried into the General's quarters. "Jiyan!" anxiety was written all over your face as you flung the door open wide. And then there he was. Jiyan stood there, holding a document in his hand, engrossed in what appeared to be an important discussion with his Lieutenant.

"What happened to you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at you with amusement.

"He's okay! Jiyan's okay!" you thought to yourself, a wave of relief washing over you as you realized he was safe.

You fell to your knees, releasing a sigh of relief. Jiyan gestured for the Officer to leave, granting both of you some privacy.

"Y/N, are you alright?" the General helped you to your feet and guided you to sit comfortably in the chair. You noticed several cuts and bruises on his arm. "This is nothing." Jiyan remarked as he caught you staring at them. "I thought something bad happened to you." you mumbled under your breath. "Wait. Did the soldier inform you why I called for you?" Jiyan furrowed his brows, arms crossed over his chest. And then you realized that you hadn't even allowed the soldier to finish speaking to you earlier. "Uhm..." you nervously scratched the back of your head. "As I thought." Jiyan sighed in defeat, already familiar with your impulsive nature.

"By the way, it looks like someone dipped you in a pool of shit." Jiyan laughed at the sight of you, causing a nerve to appear on your forehead. Earlier in the day, you had assisted other medics in distributing medical supplies to villages around Central Plains. Due to the previous night's rain, the roads were muddy and slippery, leading to numerous trips and falls that left you covered in mud. "I was on a mission this morning, Jiyan." you retorted. You were so preoccupied that you forgot to change clothes after returning to the Capital.

Without uttering a word, you suddenly pulled his arm, prompting him to sit in front of you. "Let me see your injuries." you insisted. But this didn't stop Jiyan from teasing you once more. "You could've picked a less... dramatic entrance, though." The General couldn't help but chuckle at how flustered you were at the moment.

"Will you shut up for a second?" You poured the rubbing alcohol over his injuries with force. "Ouch! Be careful!" you couldn't help but smirk as he winced in pain.

Jiyan let out a series of soft grunts. "You're too rough, Y/N." he joked. "Well, you should watch what you say then." You retorted and made every move as precise as clockwork. You've done this countless times, but the sense of satisfaction upon seeing your patients healed never faded. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He quipped with a smirk. Despite the pain, Jiyan remained still as you cleaned and dressed his wounds. His trust in your ability shone as he allowed you to tend to him with no objections. Jiyan's amusement at your antics was quickly replaced by respect for your skill. He allowed you to continue, only speaking when asked.

"Alright, consider yourself patched up." you sighed in relief as you leaned back to your seat.

Just when you thought you had finished taking care of everything, Jiyan stood up and said, "Here's another one." He abruptly removed his top, revealing a large bruise on the right side of his body. His muscular frame caught you off guard as he stood mere inches away from your face.

"What the hell, Jiyan! Do you need to do that?" You stammered, trying to maintain your focus. "Why are you getting embarrassed? It's not like this is the first time you've seen me topless." he said teasingly as he leaned closer to you in your chair. "Am I making you nervous?" he asked in a husky voic, crouching slightly to align his gaze with yours. You knew that he enjoyed making you feel this way, and the pure embarrassment was consuming you. In response, you aggressively kicked his leg, causing him to lose his balance. "Enough, General." you said firmly as you helped his aching body into the bed.

"How did you even get this?" you asked, running your fingers along the bruise. "It's a gift from one of the TDs I fought this morning. I should've seen this one coming." Jiyan's tone was light, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told you a different story. As you inspected his bruise, you noticed Jiyan's sharp inhale, his eyes briefly locked with yours. His lips slightly parted, and as the seconds ticked by, Jiyan cleared his throat. "S-Sorry." he whispered. The distance between you two caused a slight blush to color your cheeks.

"Alright, turn to your side." you instructed, trying to keep your composure. "You're reckless, do you know that?" Your voice carries a hint of both annoyance and concern. "This will take a while..." healing an injury demands a considerable amount of energy. This is why Resonators with healing abilities prefer to conserve their skills for such critical situations. You were aware of the severity of Jiyan's bruise, knowing that his liver was badly affected. You didn't think twice about healing him immediately.

Jiyan's surroundings began to shift. The room glowed as if it was engulfed by a radiant light. Your eyes glazed over as you concentrated. The energy swirled around your fingertips before trickling down into Jiyan's wounded side. It was a delicate process, and you needed to be precise. You could feel the energy course through your veins and into Jiyan's insides. It ebbed and flowed, mending the torn tissues and muscles. Jiyan's breathing seemed to synchronize with yours, tension and exhaustion creeping in as the process dragged on. The scent of Jiyan's sweat, accompanied by the warmth of his body, intensified as the light in the room gradually receded.

"It's done." You spoke softly, your hands trembling. Your body was petrified, and you stood there for a moment, panting heavily. You noticed Jiyan's chest also heaving with each breath, his arm falling as he settled down. "That's... quite a talent you have, Doc. Thank you..." Jiyan muttered, still winded from the sudden wave of energy. "You should rest, General." You urged him, your voice weaker than usual.

A tender smile graced his lips as he fixed his gaze on you. "You'll mend me like always, won't you?" His voice carried a hint of flirtation, a teasing tone that sparked a rising temperature between the two of you. You simply rolled your eyes, not falling for his tricks, yet it didn't stop the butterflies in your stomach.

The General towered over you, his smirk returning and his chiseled features suggesting he had a few secrets of his own. You noticed something else in his eyes, a look usually concealed, hinting a more intense connection between the two of you.

But then he cleared his throat, put on his shirt, and averted his gaze, possibly concealing his thoughts. Jiyan's expression shifted back to the one that portrayed his unwavering resolve as a General.

"I still need to discuss some important matters with you, which is why I had someone pick you up a while ago. It may take some time, so I recommend you stay here for the night." Jiyan suggested as he carefully observed the map on his table. "We will need your assistance next month. The Magistrate has requested the Rangers to inspect the active Tacet Field in the Norfall Barrens. We require your presence in case things do not go well for the Rangers."

You can't help but feel happy. It would be a privilege for you to accompany the General on his mission, "And don't think for a second that I would let you fight. I will ensure your safety throughout the entire mission. My eyes will be on you 24/7." But before you could even respond, a sudden wave of dizziness hit you, causing you to lose your balance.

Fortunately, Jiyan was quick to catch you in his arms. "Y/N!" he called out, his face filled with concern. "I-I'm fine. I just feel dizzy." you replied, taking your time to rest in his arms. "Hmmm." he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "What?" you asked. "I'm not sure, but I feel like you've gotten heavier." he teased. Although you knew he was just joking, his comment still made you feel embarrassed.

"Such a funny joke, Jiyan." you grunted as you tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip on you only tightened, yet it was gentle and comforting. "I'm sorry if I've drained so much of your energy." his tone was sincere and apologetic, causing you to furrow your brows. Jiyan knew that healing him would have a negative impact on your health. "Stop being weird." you commented. Jiyan would always be your first priority, and hearing him apologize about it made you feel uncomfortable. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, not wanting to let you go. "Yes." you nodded at him with a reassuring smile.

Slowly, he helped you get back on your feet. "Can I borrow a towel? I need to take a shower." You could already sense that you were starting to smell, and you didn't want Jiyan to make another comment about it.

"I was actually about to tell you that you smell bad," he said with a grin, which no longer surprised you. "Towel, please?" you ignored his ridiculous comment and extended your hand, waiting for him to give you the thing you asked for. "Of course." Jiyan said, handing you one from his closet. You graciously took it and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind you.

For the next few minutes, the sound of running water filled the room. After getting cleaner, you wrapped the towel around your body, its warmth soothing your tiredness.

"I'm done." you announced, returning into the room. "Can I borrow one of your shirts? My inner clothes don't smell that good anymore." you asked, unconcerned about your appearance in front of him. Jiyan was taken aback the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't help but swallow nervously as he felt his cheeks turning red.

"Here you go." he stuttered, fumbling with his clothes. He handed you one of his grey shirts, a bit too big for your frame. You gratefully accepted it, slipping it over your head as Jiyan's eyes wandered off for a brief moment. As you put it on, you noticed a faint scent of Jiyan, accustomed to him. He had a distinct aroma that you remembered each time you were close to him.

You could see the rush of blood to Jiyan's face, but the General was quick to compose himself. He cleared his throat, seeming to have regained control of his emotions. "Now that you're done, we can discuss about the Norfall Barrens. Let's study the terrain." he emphasized, sounding as professional as ever. Jiyan proceeded to lay out various maps and markers, indicating the known points of interest and danger.

You nodded along as you studied the map, prepared to assist the General to the best of your abilities.

You also had dinner while discussing the plan. Then after a few hours of briefing, Jiyan suggested that you get some sleep. "You can take my bed for tonight, Doctor." he said as he grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from his cabinet and placed them on the couch. "What about you?" You obviously didn't want him to sleep on the couch. "Don't worry. I like sleeping on the couch." he reassured you. It was true. Sometimes Jiyan is so exhausted from reading his notes that he ends up falling asleep on the couch or in a chair.

"Okay, if you say so." you replied, hopping into Jiyan's bed. You turned to the side, facing the wall and hugged one of his pillows, securing it with your leg. This motion accidentally revealed your pink underwear, as you were only wearing the General's oversized shirt.

This only made things worse for him, so he quickly averted his gaze and removed his armor before heading to the bathroom. But no matter how he distract myself, Jiyan just couldn't shake off the fact that you elicited certain emotions in him that he wasn't expecting. "Why am I feeling this way?" This question has been lingering in his mind for years now.

After taking a quick shower, he found you already sleeping peacefully. Over the years, you never seemed to have trouble falling asleep. The sight of you brought a smile to his face. Jiyan draped the towel around his neck and made his way towards the bed.

The General gazed at you for a while before carefully tracing his finger along your cheeks, gliding it down until it reached your lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, seemingly on the verge of kissing you, his hand gently clasping yours. However, he stopped, realizing that this was not the approach he wanted to take. Jiyan breathed in deeply, fighting the emotion that overwhelmed him. He knew that there was more he wanted to express, but his mind was filled with uncertainty. Jiyan sighed, finding it hard to believe what he almost did. He mulled over his emotions as they became increasingly difficult to ignore.

"What the hell am I doing?" he whispered to himself, silencing his own thoughts.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Jiyan whispered softly, taking a step back to put some distance between you and him. He couldn't dwell on this moment, something within him knew this was as close as both of you could get. Jiyan turned off the lights, leaving the room in darkness. He settled on the couch, glancing at you one last time before closing his eyes.

════•⭐•════

End of Chapter 2 🥀...

[borahaerhy]

Dealer (8) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: Slow chapter, Yoongi and Y/n sharing a room, a lot of people blaming themselves, Everyone questions Jimin's motives and Jimin questions everyone else's, protective Yoongi (Kinda subtle but will progressively get less subtle), mentions of death, just a lil unaliving, Jungkook being homeless and also being a little bit of a badass ngl.

Word count: 2.9k

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self harm, and has self-harm scars. This is fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

The escape plan seemed to go off without a hitch, everyone rushing to follow Jin’s car rather than yours. 

You had spent the past several hours crammed in the backseat of the tiny car with Jimin beside you, Jungkook and Yoongi in the front seats as the extreme tinting was limited to the back windows. 

Jungkook was doing exactly as Jin had told him to: you had been taking a very leisurely route and stayed away from any main roads; but no one really dared to speak. Jungkook was his usual brooding self, and Yoongi seemed to mimic his energy; although it was apparent that he was significantly more anxious than Jungkook was. 

Jimin was also quiet, brows scrunched and arms crossed as he appeared to be in deep thought, and you didn’t dare break the silence before someone else did. 

Hours went by like this before Jungkook pulled into what was obviously a small family-run Inn that you guys came across in the local area. He wordlessly exited the vehicle and walked in to get you checked in. He came out a few minutes later and parked the car around the back of the building. 

“It’s flu season,” Jungkook finally spoke, pulling two face masks out of the glove box of the car and handed them back to you and Jimin. “You should cover up.

“Two rooms, twelve and thirteen, Jimin’s with me in twelve, you two in thirteen,” Jungkook’s voice was authoritative but quiet as he handed Yoongi the room key. 

The four of you wordlessly went to your rooms, entering the building through the back exit where there weren’t any cameras. You and Jimin exchanged one final glance before you went into different rooms, Yoongi and Jungkook closing and latching the doors behind them. 

You collapsed on the bed closest to the door, thankful to finally be stationary again, especially after so many hours completely unable to sleep. 

“How are you feeling?” He cleared his throat, his words having come out rough. You sat up on the bed, crossing your legs before you looked up at him. He stood at the desk as he faced the wall, his hands clutched on the edge of it as he hunched over, resting his weight onto it with his head hung low. 

“Okay, I guess,” He nodded his head, sniffing before he stood up properly. “How are you taking all of this?” He almost seemed shocked as he turned around. The only thing he could think about was how hard all of this must’ve been on you; and yet here you were, worried about him. 

“I’m not sure,” He smiled softly; the kind of smile that was filled with sadness and uncertainty. You mimicked his smile as he moved over to his own bed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“What happened?” You asked, not really being able to hold back your curiosity anymore. He looked up at you, brows slightly furrowed. “When I was in the room and you guys were going over the plan. And then whenever I was hiding in the cellar,” He nodded his head, still trying to collect his own thoughts. 

“Well, the plan was to kidnap and possibly kill Jimin, so I don’t really know what the plan is now,” He paused for a moment, still searching for the words he needed. “But then Jin noticed something, I don’t really know what, but he knew someone was outside the room listening in. We were all handed guns, and I honestly don’t remember much after that until we got down to where you were,” You nodded slowly, looking down at your hands folded neatly in your lap. 

“How many people do you think, you know…” You trailed off, still looking down. “Died?” you looked up as you finished, Yoongi’s expression much softer than it was previously. His eyes almost seemed to warm up as they looked at you, searching yours for something as he slowly began shaking his head. He looked down as he stood up and moved over to sit next to you.

“You can’t do that to yourself,” He pulled one of your hands out of your lap and pulled it to his, his long, slender fingers playing with yours gently. “If I tell you any number you’re going to sit there and blame yourself when you had absolutely nothing to do with it.” 

“But I did-”

“Park’s the one that sent them, on Zeke’s request; and we’re the ones that pulled the trigger’s. You can’t let yourself take the blame for any of it, Y/n,” You nodded softly, your head hung low as you fought back tears. You could sit here and play the blame game; arguing about who was more at fault but you honestly didn’t have the energy. And Yoongi was right; blaming yourself wouldn’t help your current situation. You had to push it from your thoughts at least for now, while everything was still happening. 

You sat in silence for a few more minutes, but your tired and vulnerable state got the better of you. You leaned into Yoongi, resting your head on his shoulder as he moved his arm around you and held your hand gently in his, rubbing his thumb soothingly over your skin. 

Across the hall, Jimin and Jungkook had been sitting in silence. Jungkook was on a laptop that looked at least 10 years old and he furiously typed something. Jimin sat and watched him, questions racing through his head. 

“Why do you want to help Y/n?” Jimin couldn’t stop himself from asking; he’d only known these guys for a few hours and they all seemed so keen to help her, but he couldn’t help but worry that maybe they had an ulterior motive. 

Jungkook stopped typing, his eyes still glued to the screen as his memories took him somewhere else entirely. 

-

Jungkook stopped at the top of the staircase, looking down the daunting dark and narrow passageway before him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath: inhale positivity and exhale negativity or whatever the fuck his sister had been telling him. He did everything he could, there was only so much an unarmed fifteen-year-old could do with a gun pointed in his face. He opened his eyes, as ready as he'd ever be, and began his decent into the damp basement.

“What are you doing back here so early, you’re not due back until the sixteenth,” Jungkook cleared his throat before he began to speak. “Louder please.”

“I was mugged, I only have half the money. They stole the rest of the product before I could move it,” His voice must’ve cracked half a dozen times as he spoke, his voice still soft and nervous. For the first time since he’d entered his office, his boss stopped writing and looked up at him. 

“You’re joking, right? Because that’s real funny kid, but if you’re being serious, you don’t want to know what I’d have to do to you,” Jungkook gulped, knowing that he wasn’t someone to be messed with; and he took his money very seriously. 

“I-I’ll get you the rest of the money sir, I’m just going to need some time-” 

“I need that money by next week, do you understand me, kid? I don’t get to give the same excuse that you just gave me without my head being blown off, so why the hell should I let you off so easy, hmm?” Any relief that had come from his previous breathing exercises was gone and replaced with the most paralyzing fear Jungkook had ever experienced. His eyes widened as his blood ran cold, his heart beating sporadically against his chest so aggressively he swore everyone could see it; hear it, even.

“I’ll get you the money by when you need it, I promise-” his unsteady cracking voice was cut off; the cold familiar barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.

Jungkook had two options: start crying and definitely get murdered; or try to get out of this and still probably get murdered. He decided on the latter.

Jungkook ducked down swiftly and spun around on his heels. The bullet meant for his head zoomed past milliseconds after he ducked and landed in the chest of his superior, and before anyone could react, Jungkook had knocked the gun out of the mans hands and had it pointed at his head. Fear overtook everyones faces as Jungkook backed them both out of the room, keeping his gun pointed at everyone before he raced up the stairs. 

He tripped over himself, the platform boots he wore to make himself appear older had worked to his disadvantage as he tried to escape. Bullets whirled toward him, crumpling the sides of the bricks around him and leaving perfect cylindrical holes in the door in front of him.

Jungkook shot a few rounds back down at them as he ran, bursting through the door and through the arcade that was used more as a cover for the drug business downstairs then an actual arcade, and out into the streets where he kept running. 

He dropped the gun into a dumpster an hour of running later, then continued on his way. All he wanted to do was help out his sister. She was the one that raised him, his parents having left when they were young. She could barely keep up with the bills and groceries, and he just wanted to help her out, even though if she knew what he was doing in order to get the money, she’d no doubt kill him too. 

But now as he found himself several towns away rested against a brick wall, the cold January air chilling him to his bones, the only thing keeping him from completely freezing was the jacket he’d wrapped around himself, his knees pressed tightly against his chest with his arms wrapped around them, holding them in place. 

His neck was stiff from sleeping on the ground and his stomach empty from not having eaten anything of substance in weeks. 

“Get up,” Jungkook quickly moved his gaze upwards to see someone that couldn’t have been too much older than him, a cup of coffee in his hands and dressed with a nice warm jacket over his scrubs. Jungkook didn’t move, eyeing him suspiciously. 

The man sighed loudly, putting his coffee on the ground before he stripped off his coat and held it out for Jungkook to take. He looked at the coat, then him, then back at the coat before he stood up quickly, almost stumbling over as he moved and took the coat, wrapping it around him. 

“Here,” The man held out the cup of coffee as well. “It’ll keep you warm,” He quickly took it from him and gulped down the burning hot liquid that warmed him up from the inside. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Jungkook,” he spoke softly as they began walking. 

“Jungkook, there’s some people I’d like for you to meet,” they walked in silence until they got to a small apartment that was much warmer than the outside, and jungkook thought that he could fall asleep on the spot, while still standing up with the warmth he’d been longing for flooding through him. “I’ll introduce you in the morning, you can sleep on the couch for now.” 

Jungkook muttered out a ‘thank you’ as he made his way over and sat on the sofa, which had to have been the most comfortable thing he’d ever sat on. “What’s your name?” Jungkook asked softly. 

“Namjoon.” 

-

Jungkook sighed as he pushed himself away from the desk just enough to turn around and face Jimin. “Sometimes people just need a little help. I can’t speak for why Jin’s doing it; but I’ve been in situations that would’ve killed me if I hadn’t had someone help me out of them. Y/n’s the same,” Jimin nodded slowly, looking down as he thought some more. “Why do you want to help her?” 

While the question shouldn’t have come as a shock, it did. Jimin had pondered everyone’s motives for so long, he didn’t stop to think that anyone else would find his own to be suspicious; even though amongst all of them, he definitely had the least reason to be trusted. 

“She’s different.” He said after a long pause, only continuing when Jungkook gave him a questioning look. “She reminded me that there really are still good people left. Gave me hope that I could be one one day, you know?” Jungkook nodded, fully understanding what he meant, though still not fully trusting him. “I guess I’d just rather die for her than live for the people that hurt her.” 

-

You woke up with a sense of bliss coming over you, the warmth of arms wrapped around you that you’d been longing for for what felt like years. Only the sound of the air conditioner whirring from across the room brought you back to the reality of the situation. 

You were in a hotel hundreds of miles away from home in the arms of Yoongi, but for some reason that didn’t put you off as much as you thought it should. His embrace brought you a sense of comfort that Zeke’s arms never did. You felt at peace even though nothing around you was peaceful; nothing that was happening was what you were used to, yet still, you woke up more calm today than you had the entire time that you were living with Zeke. 

You nuzzled back into his chest, closing your eyes and humming pleasantly into his chest. He tightened his grip around you, having woken up hours before you. You weren’t the only one comforted with your embrace of one another.

He woke up just when the sun was coming up and found himself unable to fall back asleep. He was scared of what was going to happen, the image of Zeke somehow getting ahold of you again haunting him every time he closed his eyes, along with all of the million other things that could go wrong in the next few days. 

Days, weeks, months, even he had no idea how long this was going to take; but he knew no matter what he had to do, it’d be worth it to see you safe. He’d give anything to be able to experience the girl Hoseok had described so animatedly all those times, anything to see you unafraid and unapologetic. Every time he thought of how daunting his life had become, he was reminded why it’d all be worth it when he felt you move next to him. 

A loud knock at the door made you both spring back to life, Yoongi all-but jumping out of the bed as you ran your fingers over your hair to smooth it down. He opened the door and both Jungkook and Jimin entered holding plates of food and cups of coffee they’d collected from the lobby’s breakfast bar. 

“Eat, we can't stay here long, I’m going to run out to the store to get us all some new clothes so we can get out of here. Yoongi, I need you to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Jimin smiled brightly, half a bagel in his mouth as Jungkook pointed at him. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my best behavior,” Jimin sarcastically added as he swallowed his food, the new day and two and a half cups of coffee having brought him back to his (mostly) normal self. Yoongi just nodded and waved Jungkook off. 

Jimin plopped down next to you, handing you a plate of food which you accepted gratefully. Yoongi sat down on the other bed, gulping down his coffee, still exhausted from his mostly-sleepless night. His eyes stayed glued to Jimin, not trusting him to not take you and run the first chance he got. 

“How’d you get wrapped up into all this?” Jimin asked after a very long and uncomfortable period of silence that the three of you shared. He understood that Yoongi was obviously very protective of you, he just couldn’t figure out why. 

“I’m the one that took her,” Yoongi spoke lowly, eyes not leaving Jimin’s as he took another long sip of coffee. “I went to go sell to Zeke, she looked scared. Said she wasn’t allowed to have a phone. So I pointed my gun at his head and took her with me when I left,” Yoongi continued, sensing Jimin wanted more information. 

“Why let it go this far? Why not just turn her in, save your own ass and return to normalcy,” Jimin knew what he was doing. “I mean, this has completely uprooted your life, and you don’t even know her. Why do you care?” Yoongi clenched his jaw. 

“Because she’s a person that needed my help,” Yoongi stood and moved over to the desk where he put his empty cup down before he turned back around to look at Jimin again. “Because I’ve met Zeke’s before and I knew someone who knew how to take care of them.” There was another brief yet tense silence, you softly munching on your toast as your eyes darted back and forth between the two. 

“Why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you do something, knowing what kind of person Zeke is?” Jimin looked down, his eyes watering as he clenched his jaw tightly, guilt overwhelming him as he thought back to when you’d first met. The more he thought about the comments you’d made about Zeke and the way Zeke acted, the more he realized just how easy it should’ve been for him to step in and say something, do something. 

“I wish I had.”

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[brighttears]

Filth II

Joel Miller x f!reader 

No use of y/n, no physical description other than having hair

Summary: You escape a threat and find a motel on your way out. You decide to stay the night, but Joel has one last thing he’d like to do before you fall asleep. 

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dom!Joel, but also some soft!Joel, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, precious girl, beautiful girl, darling) 

A/n: this smut was honestly so fun to write cause you know mmMMMMMM anyways hope y'all enjoy :3 more to come(heehee)! got some angst comin up i think chapter after next? cause i miss it

series masterlist

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The dogs bark again, viscous and sharp, and Joel pulls you into the treeline, sliding down to crouch in a ditch. As the sounds grow nearer and Joel peeks his head out above the ditch, looking down the road. When he comes back to you, his demeanor is intense. “Stay down, stay silent, don’t move a muscle.” Voices start coming along with the dogs, and your breathing becomes shakier, heart hammering in your chest. “It’s a scavenging crew,” He tells you quietly, “probably five or six of them. They’re looking for people.” At his words, your heart lurches, a shiver of fear running through you. “We have to wait for them to pass. Okay?” You nod, trying to calm your breaths, keep yourself quiet and steady. Even without the threat of people, you know those dogs could tear you apart, and you bet they’re trained just for that.

You wait, hiding and listening as the sounds come closer. Your eyes are locked on Joel, staring at him as you try to keep yourself as relaxed as possible, settle into some sort of stillness, but your blood rushes in your ears. When Joel looks down at you, he reaches up to brush his hand over your chek, nodding reassuringly. 

After what feels like an hour, the sounds fade, and Joel peeks his head back out to look around. You stay crouched, looking at him for direction, a deep breath releasing some of the tension that has your body pulled taut. Without looking at you, he says, his voice still low, “We’re gonna move fast and quiet. If you hear them, if they see us, you haul ass. Got it?” You nod, and as soon as you do, Joel pulls you into the woods, gripping your hand tight as you weave quickly through the trees. He moves with intense focus and you follow behind trying not to trip, legs still indisposed. 

“Where are we going?” You ask quietly. 

Joel eyes dart around, keeping a fast pace. “Just keep up.”

Eventually, you reach the other side of the woods, coming to another road. Across it, you see a dilapidated, faded pink, two story motel. 

“Alright,” Joel says, stopping at the treeline. “We’ll see if we can stop here for the night. Stay quiet.” Still keeping hold of your hand, he starts for the motel, scanning your surroundings as you hurry towards the cover. 

When you reach the building, Joel lets go of your hand, looking back at you as he takes his gun out, signaling for you to do the same. You sneak around the perimeter, checking it out. Most of the windows of the rooms are broken, some doors boarded up, some open, some not even on their hinges, but no sound, no sign of anything, and relief starts to lighten your shoulders. 

As you walk up the stairs crossed over the front of the motel, he says, “If it’s all clear, we’ll stay up here on the second floor. Gives us the high ground, more time to react if anything comes.” You nod, looking over the railing as you climb. It’s mostly clear, just the road, trees, and a dusty, empty parking lot. No movement. No sound. You’re safe. For now. Hopefully. 

The second floor is in slightly better condition than the first, most windows still intact, doors still on their hinges. You slide against the wall as Joel checks through each opening into the rooms. At the very end is the single room with both door and window fully intact, and he pauses to look at you before he opens the door.

The room is small but in good enough shape, with a bed, a small desk, and a dresser. There are a couple things strewn about the room—an empty, dusty suitcase open in the corner, some pieces of jewelry scattered across the desk. Someone left here in a rush, likely around that time in 2003. You hope they happened to have left some clothes behind, too. Joel goes around the corner in the back of the room to check the bathroom while you check the closet next to it, finding nothing. 

“Alright,” he nods as he comes back into the main room, locking the door and drawing the wispy curtains. Dropping his pack on the floor by the door, he sighs as he sits down on the edge of the bed. You set your bag down next to the dresser and start opening the drawers. The top one is empty, but the bottom holds a few folded pieces of clothes. A smile spreads across your face as you take out the shirt resting on top. As you hold it out in front of you, you see that a woman stayed in this room, her size, by good fortune, only a little smaller than yours. You turn to Joel, holding the baby blue t-shirt over your body to show him. He smiles back, slightly amused. Still smiling, you look down at it in your hands. 

“...Can I make a request?” You hear him. 

Looking back up, “Hm?”

“...Can I put them on you?”

His words force a deep breath out of you and you pause, face going hot. Such an intimate act, and not something you had expected from him. You’ve learned that his demeanor can shift quickly, and there’s a lot more hidden under his surface. Things you’re dying to see. After a moment, you nod, and he stands, walking over to you slowly to take the shirt from your hands. Your eyes are locked on his as you start on the buttons of your—his—jacket. As you reveal more of yourself under it, Joel sighs deeply, eyes following your fingers. 

“Raise your arms for me.” He tells you, eyes on your bare body as you slip the jacket off and let it fall to the floor. You do, completely exposed and open as you do as you’re told. He slips the shirt over you, gently pressing his hands over your arms to lower them, then slides the fabric down until it rests at your waist, a thin slip of skin exposed before your jeans. Joel’s hands come to rest on your waist, and he sighs again, then whispers, “Beautiful.” He plants a light kiss on your lips and your heart throbs, looking into his eyes as he steps away. 

“Are there… are there underwear in here, too?” You ask, sounding much more shy than you intended. 

A small smile spreads over his lips and he bends down to dig through the drawers. “Sure are.” He smiles at you, pulling out a pair of lacy black panties, holding them out to display for you. You manage a small smile back, face on fire. 

“Hold these for me.” He says quietly, handing you the underwear, then comes back close, very close, holding your gaze as his fingers go down to undo your jeans. As he slides his hands over your hips, hooking his thumbs over your jeans to pull them down, you let out a deep breath. Slowly, he lowers, kneeling under you to slip your jeans off, eyes on yours all the while, and your breathing quickens as you look down at him. 

Joel’s hands slide up your legs, from your ankles, up your calves, then to rest over the sides of your thighs. “My beautiful girl,” he says quietly, and you can't help but let out a shuddering breath. He presses a kiss over your stomach, just below your belly button, the sensitive touch blossoming all through your body. He begins to plant kisses lower, lower, lower, and he says again, “My beautiful girl,” speaking slowly, almost in a whisper. You bunch the panties in your fist, looking down at him on his knees before you, his lips on your skin. Holding your gaze, he kisses the inside of your right thigh lightly. “My sweetheart.” He plants another kiss in the center of your hips, once again moving lower, lower, until he stops just above where you want him the most. “My precious girl.” Your breath catches in your throat. He grasps your thighs, as if readying himself before he noses his way in between your legs, and you lean your head back, letting your eyes close and the panties fall from your hand as you comb your hands through his hair. He teases a wide lick over your pussy, and you moan out quietly, running your hands through his hair, your nails over his scalp. He moves to kiss the inside of your thigh lightly again, and you feel his hot breath over your skin as he whispers, “Please…” Suddenly, his mouth closes over the entirety of your pussy, his tongue licking flatly up your slit, closing it around to suck over your clit, and you gasp, gripping his hair. “Please, baby…”

“Wh–what?” You breathe out. 

“Stay still, sweetheart. Don’t move. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out again, breaths too shallow to allow anything more. Anything, anything you want, you think to yourself, I’ll do. 

“Put your hands at your sides, baby.” You do, then bunch them into fists, your hips starting to quiver, needy for his touch. “Oh, baby,” he whispers as his hands slide up and down your thighs before you feel the warmth of mouth over you again. You moan out at the ceiling, willing yourself to stay still and not press yourself into his mouth. He licks wide and flat, flicking his tongue up over your clit, and you moan. His stubble scratches the insides of your thighs as he starts on your clit, sucking and licking, and moans come out with each deep breath that slips out of your body. Reflexively, your hips push into him, and he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact. He shifts his hands from your thighs up to your hips, gripping, holding you in place. “Don’t move,” he whispers, and you turn your head back down, melting at the sight below you. He looks up at you with gentle pleading in his eyes, his brow drawn up, parted lips wet with your juices. You nod, and he leans his mouth back into you, keeping his eyes on yours. He lets his mouth rest over the entity of your pussy, working his tongue up.

“Fuck,” you whisper, closing your eyes and leaning your head back again, and you feel your body cursedly shift towards him again, making him pull away. 

“Be still, baby, please,” he whispers, and you look back down at him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you breath out, voice barely audible.

“Shh… ‘t’s okay,” he whispers back before putting his mouth back over you, working at your clit again. You moan loudly, digging your nails into your palms as you will yourself to be still. He pulls his mouth back again, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs. “Please…” he whispers, teasing his lips all around the place that yearns for him most. “Shh… just relax…” You bite your lip, nodding with your eyes closed. Joel kisses over your clit, pulling away in a torturous pattern. “Please, please be still…”

“Ahuh,” you breathe out, looking back down at him. You moan again just at the sight, those puppy dog eyes on you as he finally places his tongue back over your pussy, licking from bottom to top repeatedly. “Oh,” you moan out, your thighs starting to quiver as you strain to keep them locked in place. His eyes close again, kitten licking your clit before he closes his mouth all the way around again. You continue to quiver and moan, standing as still as you possibly can with his fingers digging into your hips. As he quickens his pace, tongue dancing along your slit and teasing your clit, you have to focus hard to keep still. Noticing your strain, Joel keeps his mouth where it is but slides a hand to the back of your thigh to carefully hook it over his shoulder. He moves that hand to then reach around to splay over your lower back, holding you more securely with his thumb on your hip, fingers still digging into the other side, and you lean your head back with your mouth open wide as he continues. He hums as he eats you out and you squeak out a moan at the gratifying vibration that shakes a quiver through you, feeling yourself roll up towards your climax, but Joel moves his mouth away again, and you whine. “Shh… I need you to stay so still, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath hot on your soaking wet pussy, and you feel wetness start to roll down the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. He licks flat again and you whimper again, desperate for more, needing it as you feel yourself start rolling up the hill again, but he whispers again, “Shh… shh.. Just be patient…” You whine more, fiddling with your fingers in your fists. He kisses your slit, his nose on your clit, and you bite your lip, straining with all your might to stay still. 

“P–hh–please, Joel,” you whimper, but he shushes you again. 

“Patient, darlin’, be patient.” You hum and nod, knowing you’re at his mercy, that he knows it, and that he loves it, so you bite your lip again, stilling, but you have to tense yourself when his lips start to focus on your clit. Involuntarily, your entire torso starts to shake as he sucks, the tip of his tongue rolling back and forth over the very tip, and you cry out again, “Please,” instantly regretting it when he pulls away. “Shh,” he urges you with a gentle pat on your thigh, “Just be patient, darlin’, be quiet and patient. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I can,” you shudder out.

“Good girl.” He goes right back at your clit, and you clench your fists and cry out, eyes rolling back in your head as pleasure jolts through you and your body rocks forward. 

“Darlin’,” Joel speaks, quiet but stern as he comes away, and you look down at him to tell him, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stay still when you do that, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

“No, no, darlin,” he whispers, shaking his head slowly, “‘T’s alright. T’s okay. You’re alright. Just, please, stay still for me, okay?” He tells you, though it’s not very reassuring, knowing that he’s going to do what he wants to you, and it’s up to you to do as he says. You nod. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, slowly taking his mouth back under to open wide and close back around you, coming into a sucking kiss away. He repeats the motion, then simply kisses your entrance, teasing, watching your eyes. “Such a good girl,” he speaks as he kisses your clit, “stayin’ so still like this for me.” Finally, his mouth comes back, licking and sucking and kissing, slurping at this point, and you start moaning louder, digging your nails into palms so hard it hurts. He hums delightfully again before pulling away yet again, and at this point you want to scream, repeatedly coming closer and closer right before he stops again. 

“Shh, baby, be quiet, be patient.” He urges you in a whisper before starting to swirl his tongue around your clit, then slips it down to tease your entrance, and you clamp your hand around your mouth to muffle your sounds. “Such a good girl,” he licks, “you’re so beautiful, you know that? I can’t believe I get to touch you like this.” His hand runs over your thigh over his shoulder before shifting it to hold you securely so that he can lick into you again. He suctions the entirety of his mouth around your pussy, teasing your entrance again, and a shake runs through your torso, but you tense it, willing yourself to be still. He licks up, closing his lips around your clit only to pull back once again, and you clench your teeth, mind reeling. You turn your face back down to look at him, and he looks so sweet, so innocent, as if he’s not torturing you right now, though his mouth, nose, and chin are wet with his spit and your cum.

“Such a good girl for me. ‘T’s okay, I’ll give you what you need. Don’t worry, darlin’.” You nod vigorously, breathless with your brow furrowed, still with your hand over your mouth, and you almost catch a little smile from him before he buries it between your legs, closing his eyes as he slides his tongue up and down. When he starts to add pressure you squeeze your eyes shut, crying out breathy moans as your core quakes. Adding more pressure, he speeds up, tongue slipping top to bottom, the tip of his tongue curling up the underside of your clit and letting the bottom come back down over it before he drags it back down lower. He adjusts his grip on your thighs, holding you in place, and shakes his head back and forth slightly and slowly as he buries it deeper. He picks up the pace further, devouring with abandon while you squeak and cry moans into your hand, feeling yourself coming closer to a climax. He hums, and your hips shudder, desperate for more, so close, so close, and he must be able to tell, because he grips you harder, leaving more bruises as he pulls your hips into his face. Keeping that fast pace, he hums low and long, and your eyes start to roll back in your head as the pleasure builds, the feeling flowering over your hips, into your stomach, shooting up in your head and it falls back, and you can’t to stop your body from leaning into his face, your body shuddering around it. He continues to moan and lick and your free hand grips his hair thoughtlessly. As your climax peaks and tumbles, Joel slows, mouth moving leisurely but keeping his mouth around you, and your heel digs into his back as you shake. 

After a moment more, pulls back slowly, releasing his mouth. You feel his hot breath over your skin and hear low, grumbling purring. Finally, you take your hand off of your mouth, letting both hands brush and comb through his hair as your shuddering subsides. Slowly, he leans back in kissing your clit once or twice. “Jesus,” you breathe out as he pulls out another convulsion. As you catch your breath, you continue to pet his hair. Joel leans his head against your thigh, sliding his hand around the leg still hooked over his shoulder, gentle touch under his hands. You let your hands rest on his head for a moment, then comb your hands back to gently pull his head away from your leg, cupping his cheek to pull his face up. His eyes are sleepily half lidded, mouth and nose wet. 

A smile rolls over your lips. “Baby…” you say; his expression does something to you, like a warm wave of thick water washing over you, feeding into some sort of bouquet blossoming from your heart. 

“Mmmmm,” Joel lets out a contented sigh and closes his eyes, resting his chin on your thigh. Watching his face, you brush your hands through his hair, and he continues to purr, breathe slowing, then turns his head to lay his cheek back against your skin. 

“Come on, baby,” you say quietly, turning his face back to yours, cupping it to pull slightly and urge him to his feet. He makes a little grumbling noise, but doesn’t resist, letting you raise him up. Your leg slips off of him as he grumbles and groans to his feet, as if he can’t stand to pull himself off of you. Joel’s hands lay lax at his sides as he stands with his head in your hands, and for a moment all you do is stare at him. Big bad Joel, melting in your hands. Slowly, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You wrap your arms back around his shoulders, swaying him gently. He’s so sweet now, so soft. 

You’ve seen him serious, violent like he has to be in the face of danger, you’ve seen him let go completely, submissive to you in pleasure, and you’ve seen him deeply hungry, a desperate animal, forceful in need. You’ve had him begging, thirsty and needy, and now, soft like a kitten. 

“Mmmmm…” he nuzzles into you, rubbing his cheeks and face against your shoulder and neck. He clasps his hands around your back, letting his weight lean into you. Breathing deep and even, he lets out another contented sigh, and you start to think he might be falling asleep right here. 

“Come on, little baby boy,” you say with a smile, nearly chuckling, and start to step back, pulling him towards the bed. 

“Mmmm…” he complains, but his body follows as you move. You let go of him to sit down, then shift back and reach your hands out, beckoning him to lay down with you. Joel lets out the tiniest of sleepy murmurs as he crawls onto the bed, falling to his side next to you, his eyes barely open. He starts to curl into you, laying his arm around your waist to pull you closer, then lays his head down to nuzzle into your chest. You slide your arm between his neck and the bed, pulling him closer with your other around his back. He shifts his arm further around you, pulling you closer, and pushes his leg in between yours, wrapping it around the one below to pull you ever closer. Chuckling, you swing your leg over his side, and he sighs deeply. Smiling, you tip your face into his hair and reach back to brush your hand over his cheek. He sighs again, his body relaxing into the bed. Then he reaches for your face, leaning his head back to gaze into your eyes. His are sleepy, but you see something in them, unreadable but heavy. His lips move, as if he wants to speak, but he stays quiet. You brush your thumb over his cheek, his skin you finally know, every detail clear, all the spots, wrinkles and scars. Pretty eyelashes over pretty brown eyes. The slight pout of his lips, the heart shaped patch in his salt and pepper beard. 

Your chest is full and warm. You love him. Deeply. Completely. So much it fills you, your skin tingling with it, and the words rumble in your chest, boiling up, and they come out almost without permission, in a whisper, “I love you.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Joel’s eyes close, his shoulder relaxing further, and now his body is completely limp, a faint whimper falling from his lips. They move again, ever so slightly, words faltering, and his brow furrows up for a moment before he pushes his head back into your chest, pulling his arm tight around you. 

Whether he loves you or not, you love him, and you just need him to know that. Every part of you needs him to know. And not just because he just gave you the most mind blowing orgasm of your life in the span of a day, because they’ve been so much more than that. Pure passion, pure love, desperate need, for you. And you for him. And you do need him. Forever, you need him. 

Joel’s breathing becomes deeper, and he shifts his arm back from around your waist, reaching for your hand on his cheek to intertwine with his and pull against your chest. He's so delicate now, every part of his mind, body, and soul relaxed, and he's almost like a child, afraid to leave you, lonely in the night, needing the warmth of your body against him. 

You pull yourself closer, surrounding him, wanting to make him feel safe, like he can be like this, show him that he’s allowed to be like this with you. You feel him melt against you, and your body relaxes around him. 

This is all you could ever ask for. The peaceful contentedness of the moment lays over you with the heaviness of sleep, and you hold each other close as you drift off.