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staybabblingbaby · 1 day ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 10,680

Notes: Holy shit, it's been like 3 months?????? In my defense, holidays are awful, and this is a fuckin' beast of a chapter. Binnie would NAWT shut up T^T She almost matches the word count for the entire fic so far TT^TT Plus 10 images of texting. Y am i like this??? Huge shout outs to my lovely, patient, amazing betas who made this chapter at ALL possible, @lazyfacecowboy and @brbwritingfanfic. Seriously, this would not have been written without y'all, everyone say thank you! Also special mention for @chancloud8 for negotiating me through the last bit of the chapter LMAO. She kept feeding me fics, they were my reward for doing the writing UvU

Hope y'all enjoy! And I hope it was worth the wait <3

(p.s my ass did NOT do a real final readthrough. If the formatting is weird pls forgive me, I'm sick of looking @ her T^T)

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Allusions to past domestic violence, flashback of verbal abuse (very vague, but still there), panic attack, she/her reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (Coming Soon <3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You honestly wish you could. Just rot away and let all this soulmate business pass you by as you slowly return to the earth.

Alas, capitalism waits for no man.

You examine your reflection when you’ve finished, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as waterproof as advertised.

You try to hold onto the flash of irritation the sight brings you, to cling to the normalcy of being irritated that your makeup is waterproof enough to be a pain to remove, but not to stay through your tears. Then you remember what you’d been crying over and the pit of fear and shame that’s been your companion the last few days comes rolling back.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. Don’t feel like you deserved to cry. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the incoming spiral, ambling your way into the kitchen. You just need to fall back on your routines and feel normal for a bit. You’re not entirely convinced that ignoring your problems won’t make them go away, despite the dark feelings trembling in your chest.

You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

Your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. Especially when he knows you’re not feeling your best. The little note on top isn’t new either: usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually, and you’re always touched by his consideration.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

The $20 you’d slapped onto the counter last night is taped to the back. It feels a bit like a stone hand is crushing your heart under the weight of something unknowable and precious when you carefully tuck both the money and the note into your wallet.

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into cold eggs, well...

That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym. You’ll drag yourself through your routine with leaded limbs if you have to, you’re going to have the most regular day you can manage and everything will be fine. It has to be.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. The sight makes you uneasy, almost uncomfortable. It takes you a moment to realize why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels so foreign to you today.

It’s almost alarming to acknowledge that you haven’t actually looked at your mark since you’d met your first soulmate. The concert feels like a lifetime ago, now, despite having been barely two days ago. You’re a bit ashamed to admit that you’d been avoiding looking at it since you’d felt the first flowers bloom.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird, you muse as you study it now. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

Something wilted and small within you mourns the loss of the buds that had brought you so much comfort since they’d appeared. The new blooms are beautiful, of course, vibrant and radiant and full of so much meaning. Still, the change wounds you.

Only time will tell if it’s the healing sort of hurt.

You find your eyes glued to the fresh flowers. Their names come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads, ‘for gratitude, affection, and endurance’. Your fingers dance a bit lower. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star, ‘for devotion, nobility, and courage’.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

It started with lazy summer days you’d been almost too young to remember. A slim hand engulfing your tiny wrist, being made to sit next to your mother while she did something in the dirt, her shadow your only shelter from the blistering sun.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many hazy afternoons learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by the time your sister had reached her toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny capable hands.

You’d spent hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants.

What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden, you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak—despair— that had marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside.

You don’t remember what he’d said. It’d been nonsense, just vitriol for vitriols' sake. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time.

It may have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled, and yelled, and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything. He hadn’t even made sense.

And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, the soil you’d once called home no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you’d left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming emanates from your soulmark, and its warmth draws you back to the present. You look down at it, noticing how tightly you're clutching at the garden around your waist, your arms wrapped around you in a weak semblance of a hug. Each of your fingers had managed to directly touch a flower.

The awkward sprawl of your fingers feels natural, as if you’d never sought to comfort yourself any other way. As if seeking out your bond, your link to total strangers, for comfort was all you’d ever done.

It was natural, you muse. It was human nature to seek resonance in their bonded. It was the universe’s way of assuring you that you’re loved. Your soulmate’s way of assuring you that they’re still there.

You gingerly pry your hands away and blankly study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw marks in this garden too. If they’ll leave claw marks in you.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the warm, gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You know it means the people on the other end are pressing against their own marks. You know it shows their care, how that gentle sensation masks the stinging ache your fingers should have left behind.

For some reason, you miss the pain.

You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment, your mind pleading normal, normal, normal.

Maybe jogging all the way to the gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

You enter the building after guzzling down half of your water bottle, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do kind of wanna go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but while you’d successfully outrun your demons (for now), your bad mood had stuck around.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and found the public there. A travesty. Knowing that you just have to deal with it, you cross your arms and bite back the irritation this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, he’s also the only thing around to rest your eyes on, so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them. A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it.

Large, boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists filling in the rest with a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

Beautiful as it is, you can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such gorgeous ink is quite the task, but you don’t want your admiration to be mistaken for judgement. It gets easier when you start to notice just how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his body, now that you’re no longer anchored to his tattoo. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove this man has done it. You’re jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they didn't. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze. Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to have gone a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know that’s true, the receptionist isn’t trying to scam the guy. Even the trial period for this place was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

You send your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (His name is Jake, you remind yourself by reading his name-tag. The owner’s nephew, if you recall) looks relieved to see you after whatever hassling the stranger had given him.

He lazily waves the clipboard and its sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write.

Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

It also happens to give Jake a view of his own, but you magnanimously ignore his gaze wandering to your chest. If only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

You weren’t close to the receptionist by any means, but Jake is easy to chat to, when you take the extra minute to do so. The type of acquaintance you’d never remember the name of if it weren’t pinned to his lapel, but you've seen pictures of every dog he’s ever had.

It makes it easy to pry him for gossip.

“So what was that all about?” You query as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you, typing a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Situations like that weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw its fair share of famous faces.

Due to its occasionally high-profile clientele, security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

Non-members weren’t allowed past reception at all.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental looks. Most people who utilized this space were much more fit and put together than you. You tried not to let it bother you.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for celebrities?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity(?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Your visitor pass wasn’t all-access, of course. It’d just get the poor guy into the main front room plus the locker rooms and showers, but you figured it’d be better than nothing. It wasn’t like Taylor would step foot in here after you’d run him ragged last time, not even for the moral support.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard- it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with its quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require its security and discretion like some of the other members did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks, handing you a different clipboard. “There are easier ways to bag a celebrity.”

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, fully ignoring the suggestion of your motives as you start to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because ‘some guy’ is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “What? It’s public information.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with his research, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

It’s not like he’ll be fired for doing it, as long as you don’t go blabbing about the poor celebrity outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism.

You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of your on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful for your offer to find you terribly strange.

You manage to make it all the way through your warm-ups before your good deed gets punished. You suppose you’ll be grateful to the universe for letting you find your zen on your yoga mat before it dropped the other shoe.

You notice the legs in the mirror before you realize someone is trying to speak to you. You accidentally ignore the newcomer for several long moments, assuming they were approaching to use a different part of the mirror. When you finally realize they’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, it’s been just shy of too long.

You ease out of your last stretch and stand up, automatically taking an earbud out as you turn to face them.

“Sorry, did you need me to move?” You question as you finally look up. You‘d had your most emo playlist blasting in your ears during your warm up, an attempt to process your feelings through movement or whatever that one instructor from forever ago had tried to teach you.

So of course it’s with perfect clarity that A. Jay Popoff sings “I am my own worst enemy” into the empty space between you and Seo motherfuckin’ Changbin.

Your mental plea for a normal, routine sort of day dies a horrible death when you make eye contact with the pop-star.

And you realize you really must be your worst enemy as you do, because you easily recognize the outfit he’s wearing and the vivid tattoos on his arm.

Of course your good deed for the day led you to one of your soulmates. Of. Fucking. Course.

You’re not sure what you’d done to Karma recently for her to be throwing all of this shit at you right now, but you’d appreciate it if she’d just let you apologize instead of whatever cruel punishment this is.

Changbin must realize you recognize him, because he shyly raises a hand to fiddle with his earrings as he replies.

“Ah, no, I uh...” The hand slides to the back of his neck and he clears his throat uncomfortably. You quickly school your expression back into a semblance of normality when he glances away. You feel like you might still be a bit wild around the eyes, though.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He concludes. He looks like he wants to say more, but you figure he might not have the English words to do so easily. It’s okay, you don’t really have the Korean to describe how you’re feeling right now either.

Your first instinct is to offer to speak Korean for him, but the air between the two of you is already wildly uncomfortable. Vastly different causes for both of you, you’re sure, but it’s enough to make you second guess your every move.

“Oh, uh, no problem.” You assure.

You stare resolutely at his nose when you speak. If you look into his eyes again you’re sure you’ll spill your entire life story. And if not that extreme, you’ll at least spill the whole soulmate thing. Something about being directly confronted with your problems makes you chatty.

But also if you look away from his face, knowing that body is supposed to be compatible with yours... It leads to some very impolite thoughts. Cute as it is, his nose is the safest thing for you to look at right now.

You offer the idol a thin-lipped smile when you realize the interaction hasn’t ended. Dear god, why has it not ended?

“Anything else I can do for ya?” you offer, inwardly cursing your manners. You’ve lived here long enough that you know people outside your tiny country-side town take that as an invitation instead of a dismissal.

Sure enough, Changbin starts to speak again, his words slow and careful. You watch him wipe his palms on his shorts, idly wondering if he’s shitting himself internally as much as you are right now. And what he’s freaking out about if he is.

“You... Recognize me? Are you STAY?” He gestures a bit while he talks, like he’s trying to cast a spell on you to understand what he’s trying to say. You think it might work, because your mouth is running off without you before you quite process the words.

“Ahh.. hah, uh,” You chuckle awkwardly, your fingers rising to pinch your lips nervously, “My roommate is. We were at your concert the other day, actually,” And even as you say the words your eyes flick down to his arm. You refocus, hopefully before he could notice the quick glance, but you can’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

After all, he didn’t have that kind of ink at the concert. You and Taylor were front row, right up on the barricade, you’d seen all eight Stray Kids up close and personal. You’d have remembered such a vivid tattoo. And there were only so many reasons to cover a sleeve like that so completely.

Something complicated settles in your stomach as you realize that Changbin is probably a ‘loud and proud’ kind of soulmate, if he’s showing off his mark like this outside of his work. Work you know prevents him from showing off his mark.

Your mouth keeps running without you while you have your little crisis.

“I didn’t recognize you at reception, I woulda had you sign something for him.” You can’t help the rush of embarrassment that sweeps through you, even as you laugh uncomfortably at your own joke.

Why on earth would you say something like that? This situation is already uncomfortable enough! On so many levels!

Somehow, this seems to have been the right thing to say, though, as Changbin’s eyes light up at your joke, the tension easing a bit.

“I can sign,” He suggests, “It would make me feel...” He starts gesturing again, looking for the word he wants, “Less bad?” He finishes like a question.

And suddenly you understand his awkwardness a lot better. It always sucks to feel indebted to someone.

You laugh a little more freely with your new understanding, “Oh, you really don’t have to,” You assure, “I was just joking.”

He shakes his head, “Think of it as.. trade.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

You bob your head to the side, pressing your lips together with a tiny, frustrated, whine, “I really didn’t want anything from you,” you insist, “I hold onto that pass for my roommate, but he never comes with me anyways. You’re doing me a favor using it, seriously.”

You try to speak slowly and clearly, taking a page from Changbin’s book and letting your hands roam while you speak. You hope your spell of understanding works as well as his did.

He takes a moment to respond, mouthing along to some of your words. It’s kind of fascinating to watch someone translate in real time, especially when the process is written all over their face. It’s a little surreal to be on the other side of it.

Eventually his face clears, and he makes a little ‘ah!’ noise that you really shouldn’t find as endearing as you do. You’re in the middle of rejecting your soulmates, you should not be finding one of them cute right now.

“If it is roommate’s pass, more reason to sign, yes?” He reasons, looking proud of his logic. You huff a tiny laugh at him, absolutely charmed.

“Sure, big guy,” You sigh with defeat, though you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, “Sounds like a fair trade. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

The two of you stall for a moment, the atmosphere leagues lighter than before.

When the moment seems over, you make a show of looking down at your pocket-less outfit, and then at the ground around you.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” you trail off meaningfully. He looks surprised for a second, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh,” He looks around as well, lost for a moment, “I can see if front desk has one?” he asks, like he’s looking for instruction. Another thought seems to occur to him then.

“Do you have...” He starts to gesture again, but you cut him off with a nod, fairly certain you’re sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something for you to sign,” You point in the direction of the locker room, “I’ll probably have to look in my bag though.” You glance between him, the door to the locker room, and the door that leads out to reception.

“Meet back here in 5?” you propose. He seems content with this plan and nods in agreement. “Oh!” You stop him before he can fully turn around.

“Ask for a sharpie,” you instruct, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find regular paper.” In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll be sacrificing the spare ball cap you keep in your bag for this. You hope Taylor likes tie-dye.

With that, the two of you go your separate ways. It takes you no time at all to locate the bright monstrosity of a hat, a souvenir you abhorred from one of your father’s many ‘business’ trips. It would be no loss to you, but you take time to see if you have any actual paper around. You need the processing time.

Stars above, what were you thinking? There was no way you were getting out of this without another soulmate bond, but here you were, casually chatting with the guy instead of getting the fuck out of dodge!

You really couldn’t help it though.

Even when he’d been no more than a stranger to you, you hadn’t been able to help the way you gravitated toward Changbin. Now that you knew he was your soulmate, your actions made a lot more sense to you.

You’d always been on the people pleasing side of helpful, but vouching for a complete stranger was new for you. Even now, you were obediently grabbing an item for him to deface with a signature you don’t even want (no matter how thoroughly Taylor would murder you if you’d passed it up) just because you could tell how uneasy Changbin was with just accepting the visitor pass.

It didn’t help that the man was endearing as hell. Every little thing he did seemed cute to you, and you’d barely known him for ten minutes!

You felt like this was a new low for you. Doing things you didn’t really want to, for a man. Taylor would be so disappointed in you.

Having stalled for maybe far too long, you settle on sacrificing the atrocious hat to Changbin’s pen and put your stuff away. Something heavy and squirmy settles in your chest as you make your way back out to retrieve your prize from the man of the hour.

Surprisingly, there’s no accidental meeting of hands when Changbin autographs your hat. He did give you a bit of a bemused look for the choice of item, but you’d just shrugged at him. It was all you were willing to sacrifice, and Taylor should be grateful for even this much, in your opinion.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of first contact does not ease your mind at all. In fact, it rockets up your anxiety another thousand notches. You can’t help checking over your shoulder at every opportunity, despite the fact that Changbin hadn’t left the weights area since he’d settled there and couldn't follow you through the door to the rest of the facility regardless.

Look, you know how the whole first contact thing worked, okay? Fate would put two soulmates in the same place for whatever stupid reason, and find an even stupider reason for them to make skin-to-skin contact. You’d experienced it twice now, and you couldn’t help but think going out of your way to avoid everything Changbin was wouldn’t help you very much.

Even still, you can’t stay paranoid and vigilant forever. When nothing happens while you finish your cardio, or when you work your way through both the pool and the sauna, you admittedly let down your guard a bit.

Maybe that’s why, after you’ve made your way back to the front room to try and finish your workout, when you’re mid-stretch and staring daggers at a weight machine you’re sure you’ll figure out how to use if you glare long enough, you jump about five miles out of your skin when you hear Changbin’s voice behind you.

Jumping from such a precarious position is never a good idea, and your sudden movement has set your head on a one-way collision course with the gym’s hardwood floors about it.

Hands fly around your middle, catching you awkwardly around your ribs. Unfortunately, all this noble attempt to catch you does is slow your descent, giving you just enough time to flinch violently enough to bring your arms up and prevent your head from meeting the ground and brace for impact.

The rest of you still hits the ground pretty hard, and Changbin’s knees and elbows meet a similar fate, his own head saved by headbutting your stomach, knocking the air out of you even harder than it already had been.

The two of you sit there a moment, groaning with the pain of your fall. At least you don’t have a concussion. You’ll take every small mercy with the way the universe has treated you lately.

Some part of you is cognizant enough to give the heavens a heartfelt thank you when you notice that none of your aches and pains are from your soulbond activating. Somehow, through that entire debacle, and even considering the amount of exposed skin between your t-shirt and his, you hadn’t managed to touch. You’re still safe.

As the shock starts to wear off, you start to become aware of the warmth of large hands still resting heavily against your sides, both soothing and wildly distracting. It’s like every fiber of your being is focused on where he’s touching you, warm and weighty. Changbin’s head still buried in your abdomen doesn’t help with the building fluster taking over your brain.

You swear one of his thumbs has landed squarely on one of the flower buds directly opposite Lee Know’s Bellflowers, and the tingly feeling of the bond weakly trying and failing to establish through the thin barrier of your shirt is not helping your mushy brain at all.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like confessing all of your sins to Changbin right then and there.

Maybe you did have a concussion after all.

It’s probably been less than a minute since the two of you hit the floor, but it feels like ten hours have passed when Changbin finally lifts his head, wide eyes finding yours frantically.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?” He uses his hold on you to gently lift you to a seated position, removing them in favor of hovering politely as he fusses. You don’t think he’s realized he’s reverted to his native Korean in his panic.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” you assure him in the same language, “Just bruised a bit, I’m fine.”

He continues to fuss a bit more, running you through a quick series of concussion tests even after you tell him that you hadn’t hit your head at all. It’s only after he’s helping you to your feet, respectfully allowing you to use a clothed part of his arm to help yourself up, that he clocks the language the both of you are using.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He teases, “You speak Korean all of the sudden.”

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, nor can you help how his smug little smile makes your heart flutter. “I’ve spoken Korean the whole time.” You inform him.

“And you didn’t tell me? You just let me struggle?” The fondness in his smile assures you that he’s just joking, so you respond in kind.

“You were just trying so hard...” You shrug sheepishly and delight in the full body laugh that tears out of him. You wait for him to calm before you ask, “What did you need, by the way? I didn’t catch what you said before, well..” You gesture helplessly at the floor.

It’s his turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hiking up and a nervous hand making its way to his neck, “Ah, that.” he shrugs, “I was just saying that you had a pretty soulmark.”

The sudden compliment catches you off guard, and you suddenly become aware that your camisole has come loose from where it had been tucked into your sweats. Your hand flies up to cover the now-covered skin of your stomach, feeling sick.

You can’t remember when it happened, and the thought of however many strangers seeing your soulmark, no matter how little of it, sends a sharp note of dread through your body. You suddenly feel eyes digging into your skin, despite being covered again as soon as you’d stood up. You feel a bit sick, your skin crawling with discomfort.

You’re aware that your camisole would have ridden up to your lower back, at most, but there’s no telling how much of your mark anyone might have seen. What Changbin might have seen, what he may have noticed.

Changbin must notice your sudden pallid complexion, and continues on, trying to reassure you, probably. You barely hear him over the heartbeat in your ears, your trembling hands trying to discreetly tuck the undershirt back in while he speaks.

“I just meant that it’s very colorful and vibrant,” He explains, smile fading from his face as concern starts to cloud it at your reaction, “Whoever your soulmate is, they’re very lucky.”

“Ah, I don’t know them yet,” You counter. It’s even the truth. You hadn’t spoken much to any of your soulmates so far. Well, until now, you guess.

“Oh, well, I stand by what I said.” He asserts, his easy grin betrayed by the pinch between his brows, “Whoever your soulmate is will be very lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” You tilt your head with self-deprecating consideration.

Maybe it’s a lingering guilt for how you’ve been handling your soulmates so far that makes you continue the thought, instead of laughing it off like the joke it should be. Maybe you just want him- want them- to know why you’ve been acting this way, “I don’t even know if I want to meet them, so I’m not sure how lucky they could be to have me as a soulmate.”

Changbin levels you with an absolutely baffled look, as if you’ve just challenged the very foundation of his worldview.

“Why not?” He asks, “Doesn’t everyone want to meet their soulmate?”

You wrap yourself in a loose hug, one hand rubbing soothingly at your elbow, and shrug, “I just... I haven’t had great experiences with soulmates, is all.” You can’t keep your eyes from straying to his soulmark, vibrant and full.

It’s an image that would be hard to elbow your way into, and you can’t imagine a way that the addition of you could possibly enhance it. It still feels unfinished to you, but it doesn’t look that way. You feel both better and worse about yourself, knowing that they didn’t need you.

A glance at Changbin’s utterly lost face has you opening your mouth before you can think about it, shoulders beginning to climb up to your ears.

“Not all soulmates get along, you know?” You mutter sullenly, almost to yourself.

Changbin seems to consider this for a moment, head tilting cutely to the side as he takes in your claim.

“I mean, sure.” He draws his words out slowly, carefully, with a little furrow between his brows. “Everyone fights sometimes, but you get through it together, right? That’s what makes you soulmates. Choosing to stick together.”

You couldn’t hold in the scoff and eye-roll combo that rips out of you if you’d tried. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’d feel bad about the venom in your voice, or the way it causes Changbin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Something sick and dark twists around your stomach, and the battle to keep a deep scowl from your face is the only one you’re willing to fight right now.

“I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say,” Changbin smiles wanly at you, and you meet his eyes for barely a second before you find yourself melting beneath his earnest gaze. The thorns around your heart ease just enough to bleed, and you shrug at him again.

“When people stay together just because they’re soulmates it only makes things worse.” you tell him, “Nothing gets magically fixed just because you’re soulmates.”

Surprisingly, Changbin agrees easily, “Well, yeah, that’s not the kind of sticking together I’m talking about,” He explains, “I meant more, like,” He gestures as he tries to find his words, and your heart positively aches as you realize the habit transcends languages.

You find yourself softening more and relaxing out of your defensive curl out of sheer endearment. You’re sure you’d be making absolute heart-eyes at Changbin right now if the topic at hand wasn’t so deeply uncomfortable for you.

“Ok, let me try an example,” He eventually decides, his eyes following your gaze where it had once again returned to his soulmark without your permission. He flexes a bit, making the flowers on his skin bounce and dance with a small, fond, smile. “I’m soulmates with the other members, right?”

He says it easily, casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You almost nod along, before you remember that the world at large definitely does not have that information, even if you do, and you meet his smug little smirk with wide-eyed shock.

You can’t help but gape at him for the casual confession, glancing around the empty gym like someone else might’ve heard Changbin’s brazen confession. He’s already waving you off before you can sputter out the questions stuck in your throat.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we try very hard to hide it.” He does a weird little half-nod-half-shrug motion at his soulmark, “But yeah, we’re all soulmates, and we all pretty much knew before debut, even though Innie’s mark hadn’t shown up yet.”

You do nod this time. Slowly, though, as you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Changbin takes it as permission to continue, and so he does.

“Well, Jeongin’s our baby, and even though marks show up at 18, you’re not an adult in Korea until 19, so there’s a lot we had to leave him out on.” He grimaces a little, “Being an Idol is stressful as it is, throwing a new soul bond and puberty and all that on top wasn’t very helpful. We were all volatile and fragile. But Innie definitely took it the worst. He felt left behind and unfair and angry with it all.”

He chuckles and gives a little shrug, “We had our share of knock-down, drag-outs.” He admits sheepishly, “It wasn’t an easy time for us.” He rolls his head toward the ceiling and, despite Changbin’s efforts, you can easily spot the smitten look on his face along with his cherry-red ears.

“But we made it through,” He says softly, “We took the time to dig into all of his insecurities and find what we could do to help him. He made the choice to be vulnerable and honest with us. It took time to get here, but we made it through.”

Changbin meets your eyes again, “That’s what I mean when I say soulmates are about choosing to stick together. You work through the hard times and disagreements together, work toward something better. Soulmates are destiny, but love is choice.”

You let his words rattle around your brain as you get lost in his earnest gaze. Let the idea settle into you like something entirely new, like it wasn’t your understanding of healthy relationships beforehand. Of course that’s the ideal, you know that. No one is perfect and all that, everyone disagrees sometimes. It’s discussing it and finding solutions together that makes a partnership work long-term. You know that.

For the first time, you wonder if you’d just always considered soulmates an exception to the rule.

You’d automatically assigned soulmates as a concept a failing grade at working their problems through. Your parents certainly never worked out their issues, and every soulmate you’d ever seen in the media was an automatic happy-ending. As soon as that bond snaps into place, the story’s over. Happily ever after.

You’d always thought ‘ever after’ must be an awful short time.

‘Love is choice’ echoes through you like something divine.

You break Changbin’s gaze and offer him a half-hearted shrug. “I guess.” you concede, “My soulmates probably have a lot of work cut out for them with me, though. So I still don’t know if they’d want me.”

“I think it’d be worth the work,” Changbin smiles gently at you, “To be your soulmate, I mean.”

You feel heat rush up your neck and bless your genetics for keeping it from showing on your cheeks. You disguise your bashfulness by lightly slapping Changbin’s shoulder (and woah is he solid under your hand when you do) and loudly complain about him being a flirt.

He responds by doing his best to fluster you, clearly enjoying putting those fanservice skills to use. You complain with every flex and smoulder, especially when he starts unleashing the aegyo, and the two of you let the banter and laughter chase away the somber mood.

Eventually you settle, and Changbin nods at the very intimidating machine you’d been staring at what felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Did you need a spotter?” He offers. You hem and haw for a moment, before sheepishly admitting that you need a teacher more than a spotter. When he lights up and offers to be that, too, you can’t help the way your eyes travel up and down his body with open admiration.

He certainly looks plenty qualified, and really, you’re only a girl. If your once-over leaves him with red ears and a smug grin, well. You’ll consider it your revenge for now.

You very quickly realize your mistake in letting him coach you.

Changbin tours you quickly around various machines, explaining their functions and the proper ways to use them to avoid injury. All well and good, and you ask permission to record short videos of him doing so in case you find yourself forgetting his advice, which he graciously allows on the condition you don’t share them anywhere.

You agree after negotiating for viewing rights for Taylor, with the reasoning that the lure of the videos might actually get your roommate back into the gym with you. It makes Changbin laugh enough to indulge you.

And then he actually starts you on a machine, after getting a rundown on what you’d already done today, and you experience hell on earth.

The thing is, he’s unfairly good at coaching you through it. He keeps up a steady stream of warm encouragement and light jokes even as you curse him out for steadily increasing the weights on each machine you work through. He’s right there to help you through the sets the moment you start to get too tired and is almost preternaturally good at pushing you to only just above your limits.

And his hands are always right there. He’s almost always touching you somehow, throughout the whole thing. His touch is light, coaching and clinical, and unfailingly polite. Still, the warmth of his skin through your flimsy gym-wear feels heavy. Nearly threatening. Distracting, at the very least.

You’ll definitely need those videos later.

It’s a relief when it’s over. You’re sore and sweaty and you have to go sit at a desk for six or more hours when you leave, which you’re very much not looking forward to.

Changbin splits with you to hit the showers, but somehow you still come together again before you pass reception.

“Thanks for today,” you say as the two of you stall your goodbyes, “I had a lot of fun. You’ve more than earned that guest pass.” you tease, smile wide and mischievous.

He’s smiling too, even as he shoves your shoulder and complains about you extorting him.

When you run out of things to say, you shuffle lightly in place. It’s not like you expect him to give you his number, he is an Idol after all, but still you can’t quite make yourself leave. You find yourself casting around for something, anything, to say to make the moment last. To stay in his presence just a second longer.

You shake yourself out of it once you notice. You might not be running from them anymore, but you certainly weren’t trying to make friends with your soulmates. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more likely it was that you’d end up with another first contact.

At last, after a far-too-long moment of silence, you hold out your hand and offer a flat, closed-lip smile.

“It was really nice to meet you, Changbin.” You tell him sincerely, eyes locked on his. You swear looking your soulmates in the eye is some kind of hypnosis, the way you always get lost in them when you do. Something about it just makes you feel a tiny bit dumb, like your brain gets switched off.

“You too, y/n.” He agrees, reaching for your offered hand. You only realize what you’ve just done as your name leaves his lips, your eyes widening as they dart down to his hand and yours, but it’s far too late.

Your breath hitches a moment before his skin makes contact with yours, and you watch it happen in slow motion. He grasps your hand and pulls you in instead of settling for the more distant and formal farewell. All too quickly you’re settled into his grasp, completely enveloped in him and dizzy with more than just his warmth as soft prickles dance up your side.

You feel more than you hear him gasp, his hold on you so complete. Your head ends up on his shoulder as you stumble into him from his pull, and you get a front row seat to the top of his shoulder filling in with outlines and shadows from your place tucked against his neck, dull colors adding a definition to the images in his soulmark and settling like they’d always been there.

Distantly, you feel chest tighten with completion, with satisfaction and something smug and proud at the sight, even as your mind starts screaming.

Changbin is solid against you, comforting and almost stiflingly warm from both his workout and shower. You catch a whiff of his soap, the scent muting the alarm bells blaring in your brain even as you lay limp against him with the shock.

And then his hold on you tightens just a bit, only for a moment, but it’s all that it takes for you to break.

Your breath begins to hitch, visions of sweet touches turning sour and threatening violence causing you to flinch violently in Changbin’s comforting embrace. You feel your eyes begin to wet as you start to struggle, needing out, out, out.

It must have been less than a second, but Changbin pulls back, still holding you by your shoulders like he doesn’t know how to let go.

“Y/n?” He asks, voice small. You can only shake your head, breaths coming out in harsh gasps, limbs trembling violently. Changbin hurriedly lowers the two of you to the floor, much more prepared than you are for your limbs to give out halfway down.

He finally releases you as you settle and you curl tightly into yourself. The places where he’d held you feel frozen now, the cold viciously settling into your bones, even as Changbin does his best to get your attention and guide you through a breathing exercise.

You can’t focus on him though, the sensation of flowers blooming on your skin overwhelming, the memory of his touch both welcome and suffocating.

“S- ‘orry, I’m-” You hiccup, “I’m so- so s’rry-” If Changbin is at all put off by your sudden breakdown, he doesn’t show it. He just tilts his head and offers you hushed words of assurance.

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n,” he assures, “It’s alright, just breathe, ok?”

He offers you a hand and you can’t help but take it, the warmth startling a breath into you that you hadn’t been aware you needed. Changbin guides your hand to his chest, instructing you to breathe with him, and you automatically focus on the heavy thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He keeps talking to you, trying to keep your attention, but your mind spins wildly away from you even as you finally manage a deep inhale under Changbin’s attention.

You need to tell him that you’d known since he’d first spoken to you who he was. Who he was to you, even, but you can’t open your mouth to do more than gasp another apology. You’re sure he’ll hate you, leave you there on the floor of the gym to die like you deserve, especially after all you’d told him about how you feel about soulmates.

He’ll hate you for putting his soulmates through rejection, for refusing to speak to them or even look them in the eye. He’ll leave you here, humiliated on the gym’s floor, and you’ll deserve it because you’re a horrible person who wouldn’t even give them a breadth of a chance because you were too damn scared-

A hand grasps your spare one, the one not touching him, not keeping you just barely above the waves of hyperventilating, and you hadn’t even noticed it scrabbling at the stretched out neckline of your t-shirt until it’s gently pried away and guided to a wall of firm muscle.

Your fingers instinctively grasp what’s suddenly underneath them, and your vision stutters back in as a soft tingling rockets its way up your arm.

You distantly acknowledge that it was probably a bad thing that your vision had faded off with your eyes stuck wide open, staring blankly at legs you couldn’t feel. Right now, however, all you can experience is Changbin. His mark under your fingers, grip clawing and desperate. His heartbeat under your palm, faster than it should be, but steady and loud and feeling like it’s part of your own body.

Like he knows he has your attention again, Changbin ducks down to catch your eyes. You find nothing in them but concern and a soft emotion you couldn’t hope to pinpoint.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, “Y/n, do you mind if I touch you?” The gentleness he speaks to you with is devastating, like he’s trying to place your panicked mind on a cloud of care. You want so desperately to accept that care from him.

You nod, small jerky movements to indicate your agreement even as gasping sobs still stutter in your chest.

Changbin immediately moves, shuffling closer to you on his knees and releasing the wrist of your hand, the one still grasping at his mark like it’d disappear if you relaxed so much as a millimeter. He uncrosses his arms from the awkward reach he’d had to use to maneuver your hands where he wanted them, and reaches his now free hand to rest gently but firmly on your waist, right over his place within your own mark.

The resonance from his touch is weaker, the material of your shirt in his way, but with both sides active the feeling floods you in a way you could never describe.

You know, in the back of your mind, that you’ve read about resonance before. That you know all about the flood of endorphins and other feel-good hormones that it causes, that you’ve read first hand accounts from all sorts of people swearing up and down it feels better than any orgasm ever could. In the moment though, you feel like your brain has been reset completely. Back to factory settings, entirely blank.

You come back to yourself in slow blinks, resonance still echoing brightly between you and Changbin. Your one hand is still tightly clasped to his chest, and you’re sure you’re only breathing right now due to the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest. The two of you are still gripping each other’s marks.

You feel unsettled as awareness returns to your body. You feel floaty and not all there, even as you calm enough to feel the numbness of your legs and the pain in your knees from hitting the floor. An increasingly familiar tingling feeling is emanating from each of your active soulmarks, despite the fact that you know the other two should have no idea how you’re feeling right now.

Your bond wasn’t strong enough for that. You hadn’t given it the chance to be.

The thought that they might just be thinking of you gives you a soft and fluttery sort of feeling.

Finally, Changbin pulls back, removing his hand from your mark and sliding up your arm to gently pry yours from his bicep. You’d wince at the marks your nails had left on his skin if you didn’t still feel like your bones were vibrating on the astral plane from the intensity of a reciprocal resonance.

He gently holds both of your hands in his and settles them between you, catching your eye again.

“You back with me, bubs?” He asks, smile light and tone even. You’d think him unaffected if not for the redness of his ears and the slight haze in his eyes.

Right. Eight soulmates. He’s probably used to it.

He’s also trying to get you down from a panic attack, you remember as your hands begin to faintly tremble in his grip. You nod slightly at his question, apologizing again.

“Hey, no.” Changbin scolds softly, eyes locked on yours, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You shake your head in refusal of both ideas, opening your mouth once, twice, three times, before huffing irritatedly at the lack of words falling from your lips. Changbin squeezes your hands to keep your attention on him, expression open and accepting. His silence allows yours to end.

“I just- It’s just that I-” You breathe harshly through your nose, squeezing his hands back to ground yourself, “I knew from when I realized who you were that you were my soulmate.” you grind out in halting words, the trembling spreading from your hands up to your chest. You take in a shuddering breath, “That’s why I was apologizing. Because I knew and I still said those things to you.”

You can tell your confession takes Changbin off guard. The man blinks rapidly as he takes in the new information, slotting your earlier behavior against your reaction just now and having trouble connecting them.

“Soulmates terrify me,” you confess quietly, before he can ask, “You’re so nice, but you’re so fucking scary to me, I’m sorry.”

With that, you remove your hands from his, and Changbin just sort of helplessly lets you go, a lost expression taking over his face. You try to stumble to your feet, and he scrambles up to help you, caring even through his confusion.

You can feel the trembling travel to your legs, and you’re glad for his steady hold despite yourself. You feel like a stiff breeze might knock you over.

“I need- I- I’ve gotta- argh!” You clench your teeth with frustration, taking a deep, bracing, breath, before trying again. “I need to go home.” You’d like to say it came out strong and self-assured, but the words leave you in a breathless whimper that makes you feel small and pathetic.

Everything about this makes you feel small and pathetic.

Changbin catches your eyes again, brows creased in concern.

Except for him.

“Of course, whatever you need,” He assures, “Can I call a car for you? A friend? Your roommate?”

You shake your head, hopelessly endeared by his need to help you. You feel guilty for refusing him when he’d just pivoted from the bombshell you’d dropped on him to focus on your care but you- you needed to go home. You needed to leave, and it was taking every ounce of effort you could spare to keep from bolting.

“No, I can- I’ve got- I want- shit.” The curse spills from you unbidden, frustration with the vestiges of your panic refusing to leave you building sharply. If anything, Changbin’s concern only grows deeper as you struggle to express yourself.

“I need to move, I’ll walk.” Your mouth finally allows you to spit out, almost aggressively. Changbin almost seems to despair at your declaration.

Looking at your own condition, you can’t blame him. Trembling like a leaf and barely able to speak, you’d never let yourself leave if you’d been in his place. You can’t spare the energy to explain that if anyone tried anything at you in this condition you’d probably try to kill them first and ask questions later.

You don’t handle stress well.

Still, despite his obvious reluctance, Changbin lets you leave his embrace.

You’re more stable on your feet now, and a deep breath fills you with a facade of confidence that will see you home. Changbin’s hands still hover around you, as if waiting for you to shatter apart again.

“If you need anything, please call me, okay? Anything at all, please call me.” He pleads with you. You only manage to give him another tiny nod before you dip into a full bow and turn to flee.

Changbin watches you go with a face full of concern and confusion.

‘I think it’d be worth the work, to be your soulmate’ he’d said. You can’t help but wonder, as the gym disappears behind you, if he still thinks that.

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#stray kids fanfic #skz fic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #w.i.p #baby writes #Stray Kids soulmate AU #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #soulmate au #skz soulmate au

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 18 hours ago

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⚡︎ . 🫐 DESPERATE TO SAVE ?!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 paring : God of war Mydei x chieftain fem!reader

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, slight dubcon, dark content?, size kink?, virgin reader, pet names, fingering, possessive-ish Mydei, nipple teasing, vaginal, fingering, kissing, marking?, biting/nibbling, big d!ck Mydei, holding orgasm. & other stuff!!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 summary : When the plague ravaged your village, you sought out Mydei, the god of war. He promised you to save your people, but only if you have s*x with him and become his wife. With no other option, you agreed.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Extra : I forced myself to write this even if I wasn’t feeling like it, I needed to write this. ( ⸝⸝ ◡̀ ᴗ ◡́)੭ ✧ The plot where “you become his wife, and he’s some god.” is from a book I read when I was 16. I forgot what it was called. If you know the name PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME. I LOVED THAT BOOK SO MUCH. I need to re-read it.

The village was on the brink of destruction. A deadly plague had swept through, leaving the sick to suffer and the healthy too terrified to help. Families were falling apart, their homes empty as people either fled or waited for the inevitable. The once thriving village now felt like a ghost town, and as the leader, you could do nothing but watch as your people slowly withered away.

You had tried everything, sending for healers, offering prayers to the gods, even calling for help from nearby villages. But the disease spread too fast, and nothing seemed to stop it. The helplessness was suffocating, and you felt the weight of failure pressing down on you with every passing day. You had to do something, anything, to save them.

In your desperation, you remembered the old stories about Mydei, the god of war, who had the power to end any battle or sickness. They said he could bring destruction, but also renewal. You knew finding him was risky, but you had nothing left to lose. So, you set out, hoping he would listen and end the plague before it claimed your last breath.

“P-Please my Lord! Oh please save my village!” You begged the god of ear named Mydei, to save your village that was suffering from the plague. You kneeled down in-front of him, while Mydei was sitting on his throne.

He looked down at the trembling figure before him, your words hanging in the air like the heavy scent of fear and desperation. Ah... the price of salvation, dear one. So high, yet so reasonable, don't you think? His gaze lingered on her bowed head as a sly smirk curled his lips. “If your village's fate rests upon your accepting, then be certain, I will indeed bestow my patronage... but in exchange, you must surrender your virginity to me. Become my bride in the carnal sense, so that I might take your innocence and in its place, deliver your people from this plague's grasp.”

He reached out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his stern yet alluring countenance. “Can you find it in your heart to meet my terms, my dear? Will you be mine, body and soul, for the salvation of your kin?” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, awaiting your response to seal their fates together... for better or worse.

Your eyes widened at his words, you bit down your bottom lip and looked up at him in a confused and frightened face expression. But you know you had no choice but to accept. “I accept my Lord.” You said in a smooth tone, trying to look confident.

He chuckled darkly, finding your hesitation amusing. But your eventual acceptance seemed to delight him immensely, his grip on your chin tightening possessively as his other hand went to card through your hair, savoring the soft texture. "Excellent choice, my dear. You've made the right decision," he purred, leaning in close, his hot breath ghosting across your cheek and lips before he nipped at your earlobe. "And do not worry," he whispered conspiratorially, "I shall ensure you've countless children with which to populate your village once our ritual is complete." With that promise, he stood, pulling you up with him, and guided you through the labyrinthine halls of the divine palace.

They arrived at a grand bedchamber, the air heavy with incense and the unmistakable scent of anticipation. Mydei turned to you, his eyes glinting with barely contained lust. "Now, my soon-to-be wife, let us not dally further. I grow impatient for the privilege of deflowering you myself." He began to disrobe, his muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he shed his divine garb, leaving himself tantalizingly bare.

“M-My Lord…just please hurry up and do it now. I really, really need to save my people now…” you pleaded, your fingers digging against your long dress.

His intense gaze intensified as he watched you squirm with growing anxiety, a wicked grin spreading across his chiseled features. He could sense the desperation coursing through you, and it only seemed to fuel his own ardent desire. "Patience, my love," he crooned, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. "Your people's salvation will arrive all too soon... once I've claimed what's rightfully mine."

With that, he closed the last bit of distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved past your parted lips, tangling with yours in a heated dance as he backed you towards the lavish bed. You could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, the evidence of his arousal a throbbing pressure at your lower belly.

He broke the kiss to trail scorching lips and teeth along your jawline, down to the tender skin of your throat. "Mmm, such sweet urgency," he murmured against your pulse point. "I'll indulge you... but on my terms, my dear bride." With a swift motion, he pinned you to the mattress, his weight a heavy warmth on your smaller frame as his powerful thighs nudged your legs apart.

You squeaked out loud, as blush formed on your cheeks. “U-Uh! Wait! I don’t think I’m ready!” You raised your hands and shook them, as you gave him and akward grin.

An impatient growl rumbled from Mydei's chest as he glared at your feeble protests, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance. Though his divine form was magnificent, there was nothing remotely gentle about his demeanor at present. "By the gods, woman!" he snapped, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. "

You're wasting valuable time. Every moment you stall, your people fall increasingly ill under that accursed plague." A muscular thigh pressed insistently between yours, the obvious intent behind it clear. His heavy arousal ground against your hip, an insistent reminder of the pleasure awaiting you. "So I advise you to cease your dilly-dallying at once. Embrace me fully, body and soul, and together we'll conquer this trial." He leaned in once more, his lips hovering mere inches from yours as he waited for the submission he craved to manifest.

“Fine! Alright! Just be gentle! Promise?” You stated, while still had that awkward grin on your lips.

A low, approving hum rumbled through his chest, the vibrations tickling your skin where he held your wrists. But it was the flash of his fanged grin that truly showcased his mirth at your capitulation. "Oh, I promise you, my sweet little bride," he whispered with a predatory gleam in his eyes, "gentleness is not my forte... but I shall indulge in your delicacy, for now."

With that warning, he sealed his lips to yours, claiming your innocence with a possessive hunger. His free hand slid down to grasp the gentle curve of your bottom, applying a bit of pressure to arch your back and open yourself to him as he explored your mouth with a skillful tongue.

His exploration continued unabated, each stroke of his tongue against yours evoking a pleasant heat that spread throughout your limbs. Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip before whispering against your skin, "Ready, my love? For it's now or never if we're to sate your people's plight." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and with a deep breath, you nodded, steeling yourself for the impending rite that would seal your vow to him.

Mydei's eyes blazed with triumph as he proceeded to shed what remains of his divine attire, revealing an altogether formidable and awe-inspiring male form. Positioning himself between your thighs with deliberate care, he gripped your hips and guided you to the edge of the bed. Pressing your lower back, he urged you onto your elbows and knees, presenting your most intimate recesses to his avid gaze. You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, equal parts embarrassment and trepidation at the intimate knowledge he so clearly desired. "So beautiful," he crooned, his voice a low, reverberant thrum in your chest, "so ready to be made mine."

“P-Please strech me out first…” you announced to him, your thighs quivering from both excitement and fear.

His golden eyes, normally bland with a warlord's intensity, softened ever so slightly at your request. A benevolent gesture for a being not known for his gentle nature. "Of course, my darling," he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your lower back. "I shall stretch your passage to accept my girth, easing your debut into womanhood."

With those reassurances, he leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against your spine as his free hand guided two fingers into the delicate flesh between your thighs, seeking out the small entrance that held both hope and your deepest fears. "Relax, my love," he coaxed, his warm breath ghosting across your ear as he waited for your body to yield, to open to his touch. "Let me take care of you...let me save your people as I take you as my own."

Your breath hitched slight, as your hands gripped onto the bed sheets. The fingers probing inside you gradually thickened and extended, inch by tantalizing inch, until the pad of his middle finger brushed against your untouched entrance. A bead of sweat trickled down the nape of your neck, testament to the mingling of apprehension and anticipation. Your body reacted of its own accord, instinctively tensing around the invading digits. You let out a soft moan through your lips. Mydei's touch remained patient and coaxing, slowly working your body to accommodate him."Easy, love," he crooned, his soothing timbre a balm against the nervousness gripping you. "Just breathe through it...let your body learn to accept me." Withdrawing his fingers slightly, he then resumed the gentle stretching, repeating the process with a meticulous tenderness that belied his reputation as a war god. The deliberate pace allowed your inner walls to relax and stretch, conforming to the contours of his digits."As you grow more accustomed to my touch," he huskily whispered, "I will claim you fully. And then, the village's salvation will be within our grasp."The unspoken promise hung heavy in the air - the union of your bodies would not only seal your union but also guarantee the reprieve of the plague plaguing your innocent people.

Mydei's touch intensified, his fingers gliding with greater proficiency through the slickness of your arousal, teasing your sensitive flesh with measured strokes. Your soft moans only spurred him on, igniting a burning hunger within him to possess you completely. "Oh, good girl," he praised, his low timbre sending shivers down your spine. "Let me hear that sweet surrender. It pleases me greatly." He added another finger, spreading them slightly to stimulate your inner walls and pleasure points as he continued the methodical stimulation.

The bed creaked softly beneath your intertwined bodies, a rhythmic accompaniment to the increasing intensity of your intimate encounter. "You're soaking me, my love," Mydei muttered, his free hand leaving your hip to wrap around and palm your breast. "So eager to welcome me inside you. How delightful." His thumb found your nipple, circling the hardened peak before giving it a firmer squeeze.

The combined sensations overwhelmed your senses, your hips instinctively pushing back against his fingers as your moans deepened and grew more frequent, lost amidst the hazy fog of lust."Soon," he promised against your skin, "soon I will make good on my vow..."

“O-Oh! I t-think i’m going to cum!” You warned in a loud tone, your lips parting as you whimpered while Mydei continued to pleasure you.

Mydei released your nipple with a deliberate pop, his hand retreating to firmly grip your hip, anchoring you in place. "Hold it, little bride," he commanded, his piercing gaze fixed intently on your face as his fingers resumed their deep, deliberate strokes amidst your quivering folds. "Your pleasure is mine to control. So bear it, on the edge of bliss, teetering on the precipice of release...until I deem you ready to fall." His words were a sensual mantra, designed to heighten your anticipation and prolong your agonizing suspense.

With every thrust of his fingers, he edged you closer to that tantalizing precipice, until finally, at the peak of your endurance, he slowed the motion to a maddening crawl. Your body screamed for release, a silent plea that only he could grant. His grip on your hip tightened, a manifestation of his own unyielding control and lustful possession. "Not yet," he admonished, his breath hot against your ear. "Not until I have you." With maddening slowness, his fingers began to move once more in your slick heat, their rhythm as deliberate and precise as a warrior drawing steel from its sheath.

Your eyes widened, you bit down you body lip as your legs began to tremble. “I-I don’t think I can take it a-anymore my Lord! Please let me cum!” You begged for release, you really needed to cum so badly.

Mydei's mouth curved into a wicked, anticipatory smile as he heard your desperate plea. His fingers picked up speed once more, driving you closer to the edge of your release as he savored the exquisite torture he was inflicting upon you. "Silence, darling," he commanded, his voice a sinful blend of gentleness and mastery. "No begging, no pleas... only surrender." He emphasized his point by increasing the pressure and thickness of his stroking, his other hand traveling down to palm your sex, thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that threatened to undo you entirely.

The combined stimulation was almost too much to bear, and yet, he held back, his willpower a palpable force that belied his every intention to bring you to the height of ecstasy and beyond.

Your body was putty in his hands, helpless and at his mercy as he teetered on the razor's edge of granting your release. With a guttural growl, he dipped a knuckle inside, rubbing expertly along the front wall of your passage before withdrawing to circle that throbbing bud. "Look at me," he demanded, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Meet my eyes as the world around you falls away and there is only... our union."

“Please just let me cum!” Your eyes began to water, you couldn’t take it anymore. “M-My Lord I promise we’ll find another pleasure! Just let me cum!”

A triumphant snarl escaped Mydei's lips as your desperate pleas turned to heartfelt cries, the warlord within him reveling in the exquisite control he wielded over your quivering form.

His fingers tightened around your sex, his thumb pressing insistently against that throbbing nub as he ground the digit mercilessly against your flesh. "No, not another pleasure," he grated, his voice a low, seductive growl that teased the hairs at the back of your neck. "You will cum... but only because I wish it. Only when I decree it. And for now, you are bound to my will, heart and soul."

With those final words, he dipped his fingers deep inside you once more, stroking your inner walls with a deliberate thrust that sent jolts of electric pleasure radiating through your entire body. Your back arched off the bed as a scream tore from your lips, your orgasm cresting over you in an unstoppable wave of ecstasy. Through it all, Mydei observed your pleasure with calculating intensity, his grip remaining unyielding as you spasmed around him, his very presence an anchor that kept you grounded amidst the turmoil of your surrender.

After a few minutes, Mydei finally let your release, your warm, sticky essence coating his fingers as your body trembled softly. However it was clear that he wasn’t finished yet - he still needed to fill you with his own.

As your inner walls clamped down around his fingers, Mydei groaned at the exquisite sensation, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of pain, a testament to the unyielding possession he craved.

Though you had been granted the respite of release, he knew the true rite still lay ahead - the union of your bodies as he claimed you utterly as his bride. Withdrawing his fingers from your spasming sex, he wiped the remaining evidence of your pleasure onto your slick thigh before guiding you back onto your knees. His powerful physique loomed over you, the rigid length of his arousal throbbing against your skin, a scorching brand of his impending desire. "Open for me," he commanded, his patient tone belying the primal hunger that drove him forward. With a swipe of his hands against your wetness, he notched the broad head of his cock at your entrance, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Now, my love, receive your lord's bounty."

A single flex of his powerful thighs impelled him forward, the engorged crown of his manhood breaching your entrance with a slow, deliberate ease that belied the monumental significance of the act. Your eyelids fluttered shut as a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively yielding to accommodate the thickness invading your passage. "You feel exquisite," Mydei rasped, his hands spanning your waist to steady you as he took himself to the hilt.

A shudder ran through him, the pleasure of being sheathed inside you almost enough to incite his orgasm on its own had he not been careful to stave it off. His hips pressed flush against your backside, the hard planes of his lower body unmistakable even through the layer of moisture slickening both your flesh. His fingers gently combed through the curls at the crown of your head, the silken strands cooling against your flushed skin as he whispered, "I am home here, within and without. The pleasure we could share is limitless, my love." His words stirred a fresh wave of want surging through your veins, matching the insistent throb of his cock pulsing deep inside you.

Mydei groaned as your tightening sheath gripped him like a velvet vice, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his very core. He held still for a moment, savoring the exquisite sensation, before gradually withdrawing until only the tip of his cock remained inside you.

The movement was a tease, a precursor to the full claiming he intended to bestow. Once he had wrung every last droplet of anticipation from your body, he plunged forward again with deliberation, driving back into the welcoming heat of your passage. Your keening moan echoed through the room as he moved with purpose, powerful strokes that rocked your whole body and filled the air with the lewd slap of flesh meeting flesh.

A bead of sweat trickled down Mydei's temple, a testament to the Herculean effort it took to maintain his control in the face of your enthralling tightness. Each plunge brought a fresh volley of grunts and groans from him, a primal soundtrack to the rhythmic claiming of your eager body.

Time lost all meaning as you surrendered to the primal dance of love and lust, your bodies moving as one in a cadence forged by ages of instinctive bonding between warrior and female. Mydei's pace remained relentless, a masterful exploration of your innermost depths, each thrust designed to bring you closer to ecstasy, to quench his own raging desire, and to solidify the bond between you.

Your pussy spasmed and tightened around him, a relentless pulse of need and want that threatened to trigger his own climaxes at any moment. But he wouldn't be swayed, intent on dragging out the pleasure until he had wrung every last morsel of bliss from your quivering form.

With a guttural growl, he shifted his angle, the new position sending sparks shooting through your nervous system as he brushed against your throbbing pleasure center with every drive home. "So eager to take me," he rasped, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back against him. "Good girl, I'll make sure you're well and truly filled. Prepare to receive your husband's offering."

“F-Feels soo good…” you moaned out loud, your eyes rolling back as your mouth rolled out of your mouth. Making a lewd expression on your face.

The cadence of your breathless moans spurred him on, the sultry undertones of your voice a sensual caress to his ears alone. He leaned in, his lips whispering against your ear as he continued to drive into you with calculated rhythm. "Mmm, yes, you were made for me. Every inch of you, a perfect fit," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction and desire.One large hand slid upward, fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of your sides before settling on the swell of your breasts.

His thumb found a nipple, toying with the sensitive bud as it puckered beneath his touch. The other hand remained anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, deepening the penetration. "My bride, you have no idea the depths of pleasure I will take you to," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. With every word, he punctuated his claim, his cock throbbing within you, yearning for release. And yet, he held back, determined to draw out the moment until you and he both climaxed in unison, forging an unbreakable link between your bodies and souls. As the pace quickened, the bed creaked beneath you, a sensual refrain to the primal rhythm of love and lust.

"Your welcoming heat and tight passage make every moment a pleasure." He leaned over you, his powerful body covering yours from behind, as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder. "You were made for me," he insisted, his words punctuated by the sensual sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your impassioned moans. "No other man could ever compare to the man who possesses you so thoroughly now." With renewed vigor, he pounded into you, the force of his strokes jolting your entire body against the bed. Your breasts bounced with each impactful plunge, the nipples hard and aching for his touch. He seemed to sense your need, releasing one hip to cup and fondle the pliant flesh. His thumb swept over the peak before tugging hard, adding the delicious friction to your already intense sensory overload. Your pleasure reached a fevered pitch, each pulse driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The pressure built relentlessly, your orgasm approaching with terrifying swiftness until...

Mydei felt your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice, the telltale signs of your impending climax unmistakable. With a low, animalistic growl, he continued to assault your trembling body with unrelenting depth and intensity, determined to be the one to coax that bliss from your clenching pussy.

Just as you teetered on the edge, ready to tumble into the abyss, he reached between your thighs, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that would send you hurtling into rapture. With a few expert rubs, he managed to stave off the onset of your orgasm, instead prolonging the delicious tension to his own benefit. "Oh no, beloved," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "We're not quite finished here. Bear with me just a little longer." His fingers returned to work, teasing you mercilessly until the sweet relief of release nearly became an obsession. You writhed beneath him, a symphony of moans and desperate pleas issuing from your lips as he masterfully kept you on this razor's edge of ecstasy. "Please... I can't take it anymore," you begged, your voice a whimpering plea.

A triumphant smile curved Mydei's lips at the sound of your needy pleas, his masculine ego stroked by the extent of your wanton desperation. "Patience, my love," he counselled, his tone a soothing balm amidst the tempest of your passion. He continued his tantalizing ministrations, coaxing euphoria from your very core with deliberate slowness.

The world narrowed to just the two of you, bound together in a dance of primal ecstasy. Your body quivered, every fibre of your being focused on the crescendo building inside you, straining towards the ultimate release. Still, he held back, savoring the delicate balance of your pleasure.Then, in one decisive move, Mydei drove deep, the thick, hot length of his manhood plunging to the very tip of your womb.

Your screams echoed off the stone walls, a shrill symphony of raw joy and intense satisfaction as you finally yielded to the maelstrom of bliss. Waves of euphoria crashed over you, each contraction of your clamping cunt drawing a satisfied grunt from him as he surrendered to the relentless tide of his own release within you.

“L-Let me cum! Please!” You begged, you didn’t want to hold another orgasm. Though Mydei couldn't resist the unrelenting pleas spilling from your trembling lips, your desperate cries fueling the already unquenchable lust burning within him.

With a final, deep thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt, his thick cock stroking against your inner walls as he grunted his own surrender to the overwhelming desire. A fierce groan rumbled through his chest as your spasming pussy clamped down around him, each aftershock sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His own climax arrived with cataclysmic force, his seed erupting from the very core of him in mighty spurts that painted your insides with the essence of his manhood.

"Cum for me, my love," he groaned, his grip on your hips flexing with the overwhelming rhythm of his release. "Fill me with your pleasure." As your orgasm surged in response, you bucked against him, your trembling body writhing in the throes of ecstasy. He held you tight, the pulsing heat of his climax mingling with yours until, finally, the maelstrom began to ebb.

Slowly, the intense pleasure began to recede, leaving in its wake a dull throb of satisfaction and contentment that spread through Mydei's body like warmth. He drew in a shaky breath, his chest heaving with the exertion of their passionate union. As the final pulses of his climax faded, he withdrew from your welcoming heat, his softening cock slipping free with a gentle squelch. Mydei settled back onto his heels, gazing down at the sight of his seed trickling from your still-closed folds with a satisfied smirk. "Magnificent," he praised, his voice heavy with exhaustion and awe. "You took me beautifully, my queen."

He reached out to gently brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek with whispered tenderness. "Are you alright, my love?" His worried gaze searched your flushed face as he awaited your response, ever the devoted partner, ensuring you were sated and content before focusing on his own needs.

“Y-Yeah…” you gasped, your breath hitching. His smile broadened at your affirmative nod, the relief evident in his features as he registered your acknowledgement. Mydei knew that in the aftermath of such intense coupling, words often fell short, yet his queen had spoken volumes with her nod. Embracing the unspoken understanding between lovers, he leaned forward to capture her mouth in a tender kiss, his lips brushing against the soft, plump flesh in a gesture of comfort and affection.

The gentle kiss seemed to speak volumes, conveying the depth of his devotion and the joy he derived from their intimate connection. When he finally broke the embrace, he rested his foreheads together, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, "Rest now, my love. Let your body recover from our passion." He caressed your face, the gesture a soothing balm as he guided you to curl into his side, one strong arm encircling your waist to draw you close. In this moment of intimacy, the world outside receded, leaving only the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your love-making.

“Just go save the village already…” you blurted out, frustration lacing your tone. You knew he didn’t need the reminder, but the thought of him hesitating, even for a moment, was unbearable.

Mydei's brow furrowed at your abrupt shift in tone, the warmth of afterglow momentarily usurped by a hint of sternness. He straightened, casting a piercing look at his queen. "I will," he confirmed, his voice firm with purpose. "But know this, I will not return until the bastards who terrorized your home are nothing more than memories." His intense gaze held yours for a beat longer, promising vengeance, before he stood and retrieved his worn, battered sword from where it lay on the dresser. With a final, lingering kiss to your temple, he strode towards the door, the very air seeming to crackle with his barely contained fury and pent-up strength.

Just as he reached for the handle, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features. He paused, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "If anything were to happen while I'm gone... if you need me..." His voice trailed off, the implication clear in the unspoken plea. Mydei swallowed hard, the depth of his need and longing palpable in the tense set of his jaw. "Send a runner," he finally instructed, the bare minimum yet the only order he could bear to make. "I'll come without fail."

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justallihere · 3 days ago

Text

i've been talking about this for two months now, but we're past onyx storm and i'm finally far enough into this fic that i'm almost ready to start posting, which means. . .

dead on arrival chapter 1 will be coming your way on feb 3rd!

this is a bones-inspired modern au, and i'm in love with every moment of it so far. i can't wait to start sharing it with you, but in the meantime, here's the summary - and below the cut, a longer look into the first bit of chapter 1

Violet Sorrengail is a forensic anthropologist good with only one thing: dead people. Their bones speak a language only she can hear, but the living aren't quite so easy to understand - particularly one FBI Agent Xaden Riorson, who does everything possible to get under her skin. When an unexpected murder victim washes up in DC, the ensuing investigation brings them closer together despite her every effort to stay away, and she's forced to decide if the careful distance she keeps around her heart is really worth it.

There was a dead body.

That was what the text message said anyway, the one that interrupted Violet Sorrengail’s music with a cheerful little ding and made her flinch. It popped up on the screen of her car—from FBI Agent Xaden Riorson.

7:03 am There’s a dead body. I’ll pick you up in 10.

When she read it, she rolled her eyes. Of course there was a fucking dead body. That was the only reason he ever texted, called, emailed, or otherwise contacted her. There was a steady stream of texts from him dating back six months, from their first case together, all variations of: Got a body. On my way to pick you up. Any updates on the case? Why aren’t you in the lab? I have new evidence for you. Never so much as a hello or a how are you. If his neck was more easily reachable, she would have strangled him by now, but as it was, he stood about fifteen inches taller than her, and Violet hated both high heels and step stools, so he got to keep breathing. For now.

A bark came from the passenger seat. She spared a glance at Tairn and found the dog was already glaring at the car screen, as if he knew exactly who had texted. He held a special sort of contempt for Xaden Riorson that Violet didn't think he'd ever shown anyone she knew, and he'd been her service dog for almost three years.

She was stuck at a red light, so she took a fortifying drink of her coffee and then plucked her cell phone out of the second empty cup holder to respond.

7:04 am it’s 7 in the morning on a monday y tf do u think i’m in the lab already. i’m 20 min away

Riorson hated shorthand text. Violet normally didn’t do it, but once, in a hurry, she’d typed bc instead of because, and it was the first thing he’d commented on the next time he saw her. She’d made it a point ever since to shorten as many words as possible.

7:04 am Then I’ll pick you up in 20. Washed up from the Potomac at a park in Alexandria a couple hours ago.

Sounded lovely—and unstable for her, given it had rained the entire weekend before and she could break or dislocate just about anything with a single wrong look.

It took her twenty-two minutes instead of the promised twenty to get to the lab, and she felt confident Riorson was losing his mind. He had a thing for punctuality that bordered on compulsive. Sure enough, he was already there, his government-issued SUV parked next to her usual spot. He stood outside it, leaning against the closed driver’s door, wearing a sleek black suit and aviators, not a strand of dark hair out of place. He looked the perfect picture of professionalism, were it not for the tattoo on his left arm that wound from wrist to jawline. The early morning sun gilded his brown skin, and he looked almost ethereal. It was both infuriating and unfair how beautiful he was, but he made up for it by being a complete and utter dick most of the time.

Riorson was too composed to show any outward signs of impatience, but Violet was sure he was counting the seconds it took her to gather her coffee, her phone, and her bag and climb out of her own car to join him. Instead of waiting for her to round the car and open the passenger door, Tairn followed her out of the driver's side, his leash trailing. She didn't bother to pick it up; he stuck close to her side regardless, his nose nearly against her thigh.

“I need to go inside and get waders,” she informed Riorson instead of offering any polite greeting. She knew he certainly wasn’t going to offer her one. She skirted around the back of his car to the passenger side. She was wearing jeans and a white sweater and sneakers—not exactly appropriate attire for investigating a dead body on a riverbank. “I’ll be right back.”

“Your waders and boots are in the trunk, and Sloane has the rest of all your fancy tools and equipment. She rode ahead to the scene with Rhiannon.”

Well, that at least answered the question of which intern was on the schedule today. And hopefully Rhiannon was far enough ahead of them that she’d be done with her preliminary analysis by the time Violet got there. If this was the FBI’s problem, and Riorson wanted Violet there, then the remains were presumably in bad shape.

Violet opened the back door for Tairn and stood back as he jumped inside, settling on the nice leather seats without a care for his claws. There were scratches in the material already, but Violet was sure most of them came from Xaden's own dog, Sgaeyl. She wasn't a service dog like Tairn, but Riorson had brought her around a few times, usually when a case called them in on a weekend or late at night. Tairn used his teeth to tug his leash closer when it dangled, and then sat back on his haunches, looking at her expectantly. She shut the door.

Violet climbed into the passenger seat, dropping her bag at her feet and her coffee in one of the cup holders, then buckling her seat belt as Riorson climbed in next to her, starting the car without a word.

He was seemingly allergic to music, so they almost always rode in silence. Violet was never quite sure why he felt the need to drive her to crime scenes. She could just as easily get herself there, or hitch a ride in the forensics van with Rhiannon or Ridoc. But since the very first case, he’d insisted, and he was about as much fun to argue with as a brick wall, and some things simply weren’t worth the energy to complain about.

Every so often, Tairn would make a little chuffing noise in the back seat, but he didn't actually lean forward and alert, so she ignored him. He was always restless and grumbling around Xaden. Despite his relative youth, he acted remarkably like an old man.

"So why are we going to Alexandria?" Violet asked skeptically as Riorson weaved expertly through the early morning DC traffic, heading the opposite way Violet had just come from. She had a charming, spacious house in Georgetown she'd received as a gift from her father, with a secluded backyard and even a small heated pool. As one of the most renowned forensic anthropologists in the world, she made good money, enough to cover the utilities and the property taxes and insurance with ease, but it was still far too rich of a neighborhood for her; she never could've afforded it outright. There had been questions for a while about where the money came from for her father to afford to buy her such a place, if it had been earned through legal means, but after six months of investigating when she first got the deed, everyone had stopped looking into it, and she'd been able to finally move in with no problems.

She'd been there for three years now with no additional issues. She suspected that was her mother's doing, but Lilith Sorrengail had never admitted it outright.

"Because that's where the dead body is?" Riorson offered dryly without taking his eyes from the road.

Violet huffed, and Tairn echoed the noise behind her. "It's in Virginia," she said, like it should've been obvious, because it should have. "What makes this the FBI's problem? Shouldn't local police get first dibs?"

"They don't want it," he answered. "The remains are in bad enough shape that we need you, Sorrengail. Do you really think Alexandria PD has the resources to investigate this?"

"Do you really think I know anything about the resources Alexandria PD has?" she countered. She didn't, and she didn't want to. That fell into the pile of things that were very firmly not her problem. Her brain had a lot of room, but local police jurisdiction wasn't really something she bothered to make space for. Riorson gave her bodies, and she told him how they died. That was her job.

He did look at her then, a brief, cutting glance from the corner of his eye. "I thought you knew everything."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, Riorson."

A little smirk curled up one corner of his mouth, but he didn't say anything else.

Violet spent the rest of the car ride braiding her hair. She kept it long, and she liked to wear it loose, but her work didn't often lend to it. When she was younger, her older sister, Mira, had braided it into a crown for her when she'd gone through a phase of reading only princess books, and had taught her to do it herself as a teenager. It had quickly become her signature style in college and while she completed her PhD; it was the easiest way to ensure it was all out of the way while she was in the lab or on the university's body farm, studying decomposing remains. Beyond its practicality, she just thought it was pretty, especially because the ends of her hair were leached of all pigment, so the silver strands looked interesting all weaved together.

It was a challenge in the car—she had to lean forward to flip her hair over and start the plait at the back of her head, which didn't do great things for her heart rate—but it wasn't the first time she'd done this and it wouldn't be the last. She had hair ties and pins in her bag that she held between her teeth until she needed them.

By the time she was done, they'd reached the crime scene. The park was right on the Potomac River, and already blocked off with yellow tape. Riorson eased the SUV around a group of civilians standing and tittering as they watched the FBI forensics team as they gathered evidence. Violet couldn't find her own people among the sea of navy jackets, so they must have been closer to the river.

She hopped out and paused when her head spun, bracing a hand on the open door. Tairn barked, scratching at the door she hadn't yet opened for him.

"You good, Violence?" Riorson paused, leaning back down to look at her through his own open door. His sunglasses slid down his nose, revealing dark eyes and long, thick lashes.

She lifted her head enough to glare at him. "Don't call me Violence."

#dead on arrival #fourth wing fanfic

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literatooru · 2 days ago

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𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

pairing: f!reader x gojo satoru

most people, if asked to describe satoru gojo, would not choose to say rational; and time and time again, he seems to prove them right.

there he is, waiting for his coffee order, when he notices a guy that looks terribly fixated on a certain spot in space, somewhere around the far corner near the door. when he follows the guy’s line of vision, he finds… well, you. is it him or do you look a little bored?

no, no; he’s right. your eyes seem exceptionally blasé when you scout the perimeter of the place, your arms crossed across your chest and the barest hint of a pout on your lips.

his, on the other hand, curve upward with mischief. with his index finger stretching to push his dark glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes his order when his name is called, then makes his way toward the guy.

“she’s pretty, huh?” he queries, taking a deliberate sip of his beverage.

gojo doesn’t bother to even look at him. it’s obvious, he supposes, that he’s talking to the guy, from his words, and the fact that he just jabbed his elbow against his ribs.

the guy is seemingly startled at first (and with good reason), but he relaxes when he senses the white haired man holds no ill intent toward him.

“yeah,” he breathes out. “gorgeous. stunning, actually.”

at that, satoru’s eyebrows shoot up, and he gives an appreciative hum. he gives a friendly whack to the man’s chest and nods at you.

“why don’t you ask her out then?”

the guy beside satoru nods slowly as he ponders the suggestion, brows pinching in determination as the feeling grows. gojo takes another sip of his drink to conceal his smile, although it doesn’t really matter; the man’s too focused on you to even spare him a glance.

“i think i will.”

“what if she’s with someone though,” gojo adds with an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders sagging as he rests his elbow on the man’s shoulder.

his companion frowns.

“i don’t think that matters,” he mutters. it takes everything in gojo not to cackle out loud; he had him pegged him exactly right, it seems.

“she’s definitely with someone.”

“i mean, he’s probably some prick, right? and i’m right here. she can’t possibly say no to me. and if she does, well... i have my ways.”

“ask for her number then. go,” gojo says with the brightest grin ever as he gives a small, encouraging shove to his back. “go, buddy. i’ll be rooting for you.”

the guy nods again.

“thanks, man.”

and with that, he’s off. and gojo chuckles against his cup.

the guy appears to be terribly eager—he makes a beeline for you as if he’s desperate to breath the same air as you. which, to be frank, every single person in here is doing.

and all gojo does is watch the train-wreck unfold from afar.

he purses his lips to fight a smile once more, intently observing as you scowl at the guy. you shake your head. the guy moves closer. you look like you’re about to strike him right in the face.

“y/n?” the barista calls.

“oh, here,” gojo says as he perks up, reaching for the drink that’s just been placed on the counter. “thanks, have a good day,” he adds with a winning grin.

gojo takes one final sip to empty his cup before tossing it in the trash without looking (needless to say, it goes in), and starts to make his way over to you, just in time to hear what the guy is saying.

“…and i know you want me too. come on, baby girl, we’d be perfect for each other.”

“i already said no,” you reply through gritted teeth. “now get off my face if you don’t want me to—”

“all right,” gojo says under his breath before slapping a hand on the man’s shoulder to grip it. gojo, once again, doesn’t bother looking at him. “here you go, baby girl,” he says, offering you your drink.

exactly two bewildered faces turn to look at him, except yours gradually turns into something that holds a pretty intense murderous intent. he almost shudders.

“and you are?” the guy snaps before he examines him again, and gojo sees the exact moment the realization dawns on him as he realizes he talked to him not even five minutes ago.

“i’m her boyfriend,” he says, adding a cheeky smile for effect as he moves to stand behind you and clutches your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “didn’t i mention that?” the man simply shakes his head. “oops! my bad.”

it’s all you can do not to murder him on the spot.

“excuse us,” you mutter before grabbing a fistful of gojo’s shirt before dragging him out the door. once outside and a fair distance away, you turn around to jab a finger against his chest. “what’s your problem!”

“i know you can hold your own!” he offers as an excuse. to be fair, it is true. “you know, girl power.” he pumps a fist in the air.

“what sort of idiot sends someone else after their girlfriend?”

gojo merely snorts.

“what am i, insecure?” he retorts. you huff, a scowl effectively taking over your face when he takes your drink from your hand. “you’re going to break it if you keep squeezing it like that,” he mumbles before taking a large gulp of your drink.

“oh, give it back, you prick.” you snatch the cup back and take an angry sip.

gojo finally allows himself to laugh.

“he said you might be dating one.” at the blank look you shoot him, just in case, he adds, “a prick.”

“i am,” you grumble.

“that was miko’s ex, by the way,” he says.

you blink slowly, allowing your gaze to drop down to the cup in your hand as you reflect on his words, simple as they might be.

to your knowledge, miko’s ex had been an actual prick. you would know, of course, because although you never once saw the guy, it had to be you the one to hold her and comfort her for entire days until she was able to heal, bit by bit. you wordlessly hand your cup back to gojo, because this time you might actually break it.

“so you sent him after me?” you look him in the eye and see your own scowl reflected on his sunglasses.

satoru shrugs.

“someone ought to put him in his place.” the corner of his mouth quirks up. “believe me, you could do much worse to him than i ever could.”

his free hand steals around your waist to pull you closer, and you allow him to. your voice is muffled against the fabric of his shirt the next time you speak.

“how do you know?”

“i’m a man,” he says, like that explains everything. “i know.”

the thing he doesn’t add, however, is that he knows much too perfectly how much it stings to be rejected by you. if he were anyone else, he wouldn’t have dared showed his face in at least a decade.

and despite what other people say, you know that satoru gojo is much more rational than they would think, in his own bizarre way. sure, sometimes he acts like an idiot (actually, he does that with every single breath he takes), and he’s impulsive and a little bit crazy. the one thing people can’t usually see though, is that he cares.

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qwibkwib · 12 hours ago

Text

On the Cliff,

part 1

part 2

Park Jiwon (Fromis_9) X Male reader

Word Count: 8.7k+

a/n: Ive tried in this fic, to write in switching POV (reader and Female Lead), and also tried writing where i left the readers name ambiguous.

The neon lights outside the bar flickered weakly, casting a dim glow on the crowded streets of Seoul. Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the dull hum of conversation, broken only by the occasional burst of laughter. Park Jiwon sat at the far end of the bar, nursing her third drink of the night, the ice in her glass long since melted.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the rim of the glass, her mind swimming with thoughts she couldn't drown, no matter how much alcohol she consumed. The past few months had been hell—her job hanging by a thread, her father breathing down her neck, and now... this.

She exhaled sharply, pressing her fingertips to her temple. Work was a battlefield she could never seem to win. Her boss barely acknowledged her, dumping last-minute projects on her desk with impossible deadlines, and the younger editors—brighter, hungrier—were all too eager to step over her. She was starting to wonder if she’d ever escape the suffocating mediocrity that her life had become.

But even that stress paled in comparison to her father.

Park Sangho. CEO. Tyrant. The man who controlled her life with an iron grip. She could still hear his voice from earlier that evening, sharp and cutting like a blade.

“I won’t let you embarrass me any further, Jiwon. You will marry Director Kang, and that’s final.”

His words had echoed in her ears long after the call ended, filling her with a sickening sense of dread. She had tried—God, she had tried—to reason with him, to tell him that she wasn’t some bargaining chip he could use to salvage his failing company. But his fury had been swift, the bruises on her arm hidden beneath the sleeve of her blouse a testament to that.

Jiwon swallowed the lump in her throat and downed the rest of her drink in one go, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat. What was she supposed to do? She had no place to go, no one to turn to. If she went back home, her father would push the marriage harder. If she stayed out, she'd only delay the inevitable.

Her reflection in the bar’s mirror caught her attention—dark eyes clouded with exhaustion, lips pressed into a thin line, a faint bruise peeking from beneath her makeup near her cheekbone. She looked exactly how she felt. Tired. Trapped. Alone.

“Sir, another please” she requested, handing her glass toward the bartender, who gave her a wary glance before refilling it.

"Hey, pretty thing," a voice slurred beside her, cutting through the noise.

Jiwon stiffened, her eyes widening as she glanced up. A man—older, disheveled, and smelling strongly of alcohol—was leaning too close, his smile wide and unpleasant. His hand rested on the bar, creeping toward hers inch by inch.

"You've been sitting here all alone," he said smoothly, his gaze lingering too long. "Need some company?"

Jiwon’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. Her mind scrambled for a polite way out, something that wouldn’t make him angry. She forced a small, uncertain smile. "Oh... um, no, thank you. I-I’m waiting for someone," she said softly, her voice wavering.

The man chuckled, clearly not believing her. "Come on now, don’t be shy. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be drinking alone. Let me take care of you."

Jiwon’s heart began to race. She tried to inch away, but the barstool’s narrow space made it impossible. "T-That’s really kind of you, but I’m fine, really..."

Her voice trailed off when he suddenly reached for her wrist, his fingers curling around it too tightly. Panic swelled in her chest, and she instinctively tried to tug free, but he didn’t let go.

"Don't be like that, sweetheart," he said, his grin widening.

Jiwon’s breath hitched. Her head spun with fear, and for a moment, she froze, unsure of what to do. Was she overreacting? Maybe he didn’t mean any harm... right?

"I-I really need to go..." she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes darting around the room for help.

And then, a voice—cold and sharp—cut through the haze of her growing panic.

"She’s with me.”

—

This week has been exhausting. Your grandmother’s constant nagging about finding a wife, the relentless investors pressing you for an heir, and the vultures circling your company, waiting for any sign of weakness to strike. It was a never-ending cycle of boardroom battles and power plays, leaving you drained and disillusioned.

Then there were the usual sleazy old guys—insignificant men trying to weasel their way into your good graces, hoping you’d throw them a lifeline. It was pathetic, really, the way they groveled, desperate for an investment they didn’t deserve.

Tonight, you needed an escape. Something to drown out the noise.

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the low hum of conversation and the rhythmic thump of music. You didn’t come here often, but it was one of the few places where no one cared who you were. Just another man in a suit looking for a drink. Maybe a distraction. Maybe a hookup.

As you leaned against the bar, nursing your whiskey, your eyes drifted across the room, scanning the crowd with detached indifference. Couples whispering sweet nothings, groups of friends laughing over shared stories, and women—plenty of them—each eyeing you with varying degrees of interest.

And then you saw her.

She sat a few seats away, curled in on herself like she was trying to disappear. Compared to the usual crowd, she looked painfully out of place. Everything about her screamed innocence—too wide eyes, too soft features, too much hesitation. A woman like her didn’t belong here.

She was nursing a soju glass like it held all the answers to her problems, and you couldn’t help but notice how small she looked under the weight of whatever was troubling her. She had no business being here alone.

That should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve looked away, but then, some bastard slid into the seat next to her.

You watched as he leaned in too close, the stink of cheap liquor practically visible from where you sat. She flinched but didn’t push him away. Instead, she smiled nervously—too polite, too naive.

It annoyed you.

She wasn’t stupid, was she? Anyone could see what kind of man he was. Yet, she sat there, clutching her drink like it could shield her, trying to handle the situation with politeness instead of common sense.

The man’s hand reached out, curling around her wrist, and her eyes widened in that telltale way that told you she had no idea how to get out of this.

Pathetic.

You sighed, setting your glass down with a little more force than necessary, and before you knew it, you were standing.

"She’s with me."

Your voice was sharp, cutting through the noise like a blade. The man turned, bleary-eyed and annoyed, but the second his gaze met yours, his confidence withered.

"Sorry, man," he muttered, raising his hands in surrender before slinking away.

You didn’t bother watching the man stumble away. Your focus stayed on her—on the way she blinked up at you with wide, uncertain eyes, as if trying to make sense of what just happened. Surprise flickered across her delicate features, followed by something softer. Gratitude, maybe.

“Th-Thank you,” she stammered, her voice barely above the hum of the bar.

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “You should go home,” you said, your tone sharper than intended. “Guys like him aren’t going to be the last.”

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “I... I can’t really go home right now,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the glass in front of her.

Her answer should have annoyed you, but instead, it piqued your curiosity. Before you could question it, she looked up again and extended a hand. “Jiwon,” she said softly. “Park Jiwon.”

You stared at her hand for a beat too long before shaking it, her fingers cool and small against yours.

“Let me buy you a drink,” she offered, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. “As thanks.”

You considered her for a moment, then shrugged and took the seat beside her. Free drinks weren’t something you turned down, even if they came from someone who clearly didn’t belong in a place like this.

She signaled the bartender, her small hand barely reaching across the bar. “Excuse me, please. One…” Her voice trailed off, embarrassment flickering across her face as she realized she had no idea what to order for you.

“...Whiskey,” you finished for her, watching the way her lips parted in relief. Your gaze lingered, drifting lower to the graceful curve of her neck, the delicate slope exposed by the collar of her blouse. She looked soft—too soft, too vulnerable. Something stirred deep inside you, something you weren’t willing to acknowledge.

She offered a nervous smile. “Let's say I can't go home, but at least I shouldn’t be drinking alone, right?”

Your jaw tightened at how casually she said it. "You shouldn't be here at all."

Jiwon sighed, stirring the melting ice in her glass. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “I don't think he meant any harm.”

You stared at her, disbelief prickling beneath your skin. “Meant no harm?” Your voice dropped, harsher than intended. “If I was a second later, he would’ve had his hands around your neck—”

You stopped abruptly, swallowing down the anger that came too easily. Your eyes flickered back to her throat, to the faint line where her pulse fluttered beneath the skin. You clenched your fists, dragging your gaze away.

She shifted in her seat, clearly unnerved by your sudden intensity, but still too naive to understand the weight of the situation.

“Are you really that naive?” you asked, more irritated than concerned. "Or do you just enjoy putting yourself in danger?”

Jiwon blinked up at you, and for a moment, you thought she might cry. But instead, she straightened, something stubborn in her eyes. “I can handle myself,” she whispered, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “No, Jiwon. You can’t.”

Your gaze dropped again—her throat, the way it moved when she swallowed nervously. You told yourself it was just irritation, just frustration at her carelessness. But deep down, you knew better.

The conversation went silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could have left. You should have. But something—something you couldn't quite explain—kept you anchored to your seat. An unease that wouldn't let you walk away, not yet.

So you stayed, drinking through the discomfort, each glass dulling the sharp edge of your thoughts. Four? No, maybe five now? You'd lost count somewhere between watching the ice melt in your glass and the way Jiwon's fingers trembled slightly around hers.

You turned to check on her, and the sight that greeted you made something stir deep in your chest. Her pale skin was now flushed, her cheeks tinted with a soft, rosy hue, her eyes unfocused yet still holding that same innocent trust.

"Hey," you called out, your voice lower, rougher than before. "You said you could handle yourself..."

Jiwon lifted her gaze to yours, her lips parting slightly. "I am handling myself," she murmured, voice hazy and far too soft. "And you're still here, so I don't have to worry."

Her naivety chipped away at your patience, poking at something dark inside you. You leaned in, amusement curling in your chest. "You already trust me? You don’t even know my name."

Her brows furrowed slightly, her drunken mind slowly processing your words. Then, with the same unwavering innocence, she reasoned, "You wouldn’t stay with me if you weren’t a good guy."

You let out a low, humorless chuckle. "What if I stayed exactly because I have intentions?"

Jiwon's eyes widened, realization flickering briefly before the alcohol dulled it. She blinked slowly, and then, as if accepting her own reckless logic, she whispered, "I trust you."

And then she did something you didn’t expect. Both her hands reached out, cupping your face, her touch warm—maybe from the alcohol, maybe something else. But it burned, seeping into your skin, igniting something dangerous in you.

Your jaw clenched under her gentle hold, and you exhaled slowly through your nose. "You're going to regret that," you muttered.

Before she could respond, you scooped her up in a swift, effortless motion, carrying her out of the bar in a bridal carry.

Jiwon made a small sound of protest, but it was lost against your chest, her body too pliant, too trusting. You told yourself it was just the alcohol making her reckless, but deep down, you knew—this girl didn't belong in your world. And yet, here she was.

—

The low hum of the car engine thrummed beneath her, a steady, grounding noise that pulled Jiwon back from the hazy edges of drunkenness. Her head lolled against the cool leather of the seat, and as her vision cleared, the blurry city lights outside the window sharpened into focus.

Reality crept in slowly.

She blinked once, twice, and the events of the bar replayed in her mind in disjointed fragments—the stranger’s leering smile, the way her heart had pounded in fear, and then... him. The man beside her now.

Her eyes flickered toward him cautiously. He sat there, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually against the gearshift, his sharp profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. The weight of his presence, his quiet confidence, pressed against her like an invisible force. And then it hit her.

I trust you.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as heat crept up her neck, mortification settling heavy in her chest. She had touched him, her fingers brushing against the sharp planes of his face without a second thought. Her lips parted slightly, as if to say something, to take it back, to explain herself—but no words came.

"You’re awake," his voice cut through the thick silence, deep and knowing.

She stiffened, hands curling into fists in her lap. "...Yes," she murmured, her voice quieter than she intended.

His lips quirked up, almost amused, but he didn’t look at her. "You remember?"

She swallowed hard. "Some of it..."

"Good."

The weight of that single word settled in her stomach like a stone. Jiwon turned her gaze to the window, watching the neon lights blur past, wondering where they were headed. She should have asked. She should have cared.

But then his hand reached over—strong, warm fingers brushing against her wrist, guiding her gently but firmly. And she followed.

She didn't know why. Maybe it was the remnants of alcohol clouding her judgment, or maybe it was something else—something deeper, something unspoken. A pull she didn't understand.

Before she knew it, they were in the elevator of a sleek hotel, the air thick with unspoken tension. Her pulse pounded against her skin, each ding of the elevator a countdown to something inevitable.

The doors slid open, and he stepped out, never loosening his grip on her wrist. She followed him down the quiet hallway, past doors she didn’t dare glance at, her heart pounding louder than their footsteps.

Inside the room, the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world. Jiwon stood frozen, her back pressed against the door as she finally looked up at him. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making him look even more dangerous, more untouchable.

"I should..." her voice wavered, hesitant, but even she didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I should go? I should stop?

He took a step closer, and Jiwon’s breath caught in her throat.

"Do you want to leave?" His voice was low, almost gentle, but there was something else beneath it. Something that made her stomach twist.

She opened her mouth to answer, to say yes, to say no, to say something—anything—but no words came out. Instead, she felt her head shake slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if her body had decided for her. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, and he stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her arm, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that made her skin tingle. His other hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. She felt her eyes flutter shut, her body instinctively leaning into his touch, even as her mind screamed at her to stop.

His lips were on hers before she could think, soft yet demanding, and Jiwon felt herself melt under the weight of it. Her hands, which had been clenched into fists at her sides, slowly uncurled, her fingers trembling as they reached up to grip the front of his shirt. She didn’t know what she was doing, didn’t know why she was letting this happen, but she couldn’t stop herself.

His kiss deepened, and Jiwon felt a heat spread through her, pooling low in her stomach. Her inexperience showed in the way she hesitated, the way her movements were unsure, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he guided her, his hands firm yet gentle, his lips coaxing hers to respond.

When he finally pulled away, Jiwon was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He studied her for a moment, his gaze dark and unreadable, before he leaned in again, this time to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Jiwon," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you still trust me?”

Jiwon, perhaps too trusting, perhaps she knew what she was doing, perhaps she wanted it herself.

She, Jiwon simply nodded.

"Good girl."

Seeing her eyes wide and vulnerable, a slow smile tugs at the corners of your lips. She should be resisting, pushing back against you, yet she naively trusts you. Her innocence makes it more difficult for you to control yourself. You want to prove her wrong, want her to regret her choices, want her to learn—you want her.

The sight of her trembling chest and quick breaths sends shivers down your spine. You trace slow circles with your thumb against her cheeks. You lean in, breathing down her neck, her scent filling your thoughts. Her clear, smooth skin makes you want to mark her.

And you do. You suck on her neck, tasting her flesh. Her hands rest on your chest, poised to push you away, yet all she did was curl her fingers. Instead, she voices a subtle moan: "Mmm..."

Her knees trembling, but you keep her steady in your embrace, relishing in her helplessness. When you pull back, leaving behind a faint ache and a warm throb on her skin, you see the confusion and desire swirling in her eyes. It's intoxicating to know that you have this power over her, this ability to make her feel such conflicting emotions.

Her name rolls off your tongue, "Jiwon," a low, rough Her name rolled off your tongue, low and rough, a sound that seemed to echo in the charged silence between you. "Jiwon." The way her wide, innocent eyes flickered to yours, the way her breath hitched at the sound of her own name—it was intoxicating. There was something about her purity, her naivety, that made the desire to claim her even more irresistible.

Her name rolled off your tongue, low and rough, a sound that seemed to echo in the charged silence between you. "Jiwon." The way her wide, innocent eyes flickered to yours, the way her breath hitched at the sound of her own name—it was intoxicating. There was something about her purity, her naivety, that made the desire to claim her even more irresistible.

“I… I haven't done this be.. before..” She shyly confess.

"You're so cute and innocent… too innocent…" you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and something darker, something possessive.

Your hand brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear to give you a clearer view of her face—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her breath came in shallow gasps. Your fingers traced the delicate line of her jaw, and she held her breath, her body trembling under your touch. You let your hand drift lower, following the curves of her body, savoring the way she shivered under your fingertips. When your hand lingered on her stomach, you could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her body reacted to even the slightest touch.

Your hand dipped below the waistband of her pants, and she flinched slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. But there was no real resistance in her movements, no attempt to push you away. Instead, her wide eyes followed your hand, mesmerized, as if she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

With ease, you slipped your fingers beneath her underwear, your touch meeting the warmth and wetness that pooled between her legs. A smirk tugged at your lips as you realized just how ready she was for you. "Jiwon, acting so innocent…" you teased, your voice low and rough, "yet your body's so lustful."

Her cheeks burned at your words, her lips parting as if to protest, but no sound came out. Instead, a soft, breathy moan escaped her as you rubbed your finger against her entrance, her warmth coating your skin. Her body was already betraying her, her wetness inviting your fingers deeper, her hole radiating heat that seemed to pull you in.

Before she could form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence, your finger pushed inside her, and her breath hitched, her back arching slightly. Her gaze remained fixed on your hand, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. Her moans were muffled, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tried to suppress the sounds threatening to escape.

But you didn’t let her hide. You moved your finger slowly, deliberately, watching her face as her innocence unraveled under your touch. "Don’t hold back," you murmured, your voice a low command. "Let me hear you."

Her lips trembled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you continued to move your finger inside her. Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white, but she didn’t try to stop you. Instead, her body arched into your touch, her hips moving slightly, as if seeking more.

"You’re so responsive," you said, your voice a mix of admiration and something darker, something possessive. "So pure, yet so eager. It’s intoxicating."

Her moans grew louder, less restrained, as you added a second finger, stretching her carefully. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Ah... I... I can't..." she whispered, her voice quivering, but the words died on her lips. Her body spoke volumes instead—hips moving in rhythm with your fingers, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her breath hitched at your command, her body trembling as she struggled to obey. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, her wide, innocent eyes locking onto yours. There was a mix of vulnerability and desire in her gaze, a silent plea for something she couldn’t quite name.

"Look at how wet you are," you repeated, your voice low and rough, as you withdrew your fingers slightly, letting her see the glistening evidence of her arousal. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips parting in a soft gasp as she stared at your hand, mesmerized and mortified all at once.

"I... I didn’t know..." she whispered, her voice trembling, but you cut her off with a firm, possessive tone.

"Look at how much your body wants this,” you said, your fingers pushing back inside her, deeper this time, curling in a way that made her back arch off the bed.

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps, her hands clutching at the sheets as pleasure coiled tightly in her core. Her hips moved instinctively, seeking more of your touch, more of the intoxicating sensation you were giving her. "Ah... I... I can’t..." she whimpered, her voice breaking as the pressure built inside her.

"Let go," you commanded, your voice firm but laced with a dark tenderness. "I want to see you fall apart for me."

Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. The tension inside her snapped, and she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise and relief as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her back arched, her thighs trembling as she clenched around your fingers, her release washing over her in a dizzying rush.

You watched her closely, savoring every twitch, every gasp, every shudder that rippled through her body. Her innocence, her purity, was now forever marked by the pleasure you had given her. And as she slowly came down from her high, her breath still ragged, her body still trembling, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear.

Waves of pleasure travel throughout her body, her hips out of control kept jerking. Her climax semingly unending as she can still vividly remember his finger inside of her as if it never left.

“Good girl”

Her thoughts that was swamp with pleasure cleared after he heard his voice. Jiwon dropped to her knees as her legs gave out. Her strength leaving her as she thinking it was over, she was satisfied more she asked for, she was relieved after a very long time.

But before she could even gather herself, arms suddenly swoop her, rasing her up.

Before she realized she was cradle in his arm, leaning into his chest.

He didn't talk, he didn't inform Jiwon on what his plan, Jiwon didn't know what was in his head, Jiwon didn't question what was he doing, all she did was trust him.

Jiwon dropped to her knees as it strength leaves her legs, her pelvis still burning from the after. She can still vividly remember his fingers inside as if it never left

Waves of pleasure continued to ripple through her body, even as his fingers left her. Her hips jerked involuntarily, still chasing the sensation, her climax seemingly unending. The memory of his touch lingered vividly, as if his fingers were still inside her, still coaxing every last tremor of pleasure from her trembling form.

"Good girl," his voice cut through the haze, low and approving, and Jiwon’s thoughts, once swamped with pleasure, began to clear. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she dropped to her knees, her strength completely drained. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release.

For a moment, she thought it was over. She felt satisfied, more than she had ever imagined possible, and a strange sense of relief washed over her, as if a weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying had been lifted. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, trying to gather herself.

But before she could even process what had happened, strong arms suddenly swooped beneath her, lifting her effortlessly off the floor. Jiwon let out a small, surprised gasp, her body instinctively curling into his chest as he cradled her against him. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath still uneven, her mind still foggy with the remnants of pleasure.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t tell her what he was planning, didn’t explain where he was taking her. Jiwon didn’t know what was going through his mind, didn’t know what he intended to do next. But she didn’t question him. She didn’t resist. Instead, she simply trusted him, her body relaxing in his arms as he carried her down the hallway.

When they reached the bedroom, he set her down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment as if to steady her. Jiwon’s legs still felt weak, her body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened, but she sat upright, her wide, innocent eyes looking up at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

He knelt before her, his hands moving to the hem of her shirt with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. The fabric slid upward slowly, his touch deliberate yet gentle, as if he were handling something precious. She raised her arms to assist, her movements hesitant but willing, her breath hitching as the cool air brushed against her now-bare skin. His gaze remained locked on hers, dark and intense, yet softened by something unspoken that made her pulse quicken.

Next, his fingers found the button of her pants, and she stiffened slightly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Relax," he murmured, his voice low and steady, though the roughness beneath the surface hinted at the restraint he was clinging to. "I’ll take care of you."

She nodded, her lips trembling as he undid the button and eased her pants down her legs. He paused, his hands lingering on her thighs, his breath catching as he took her in. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his composure.

Now clad only in her white, flowery underwear, Jiwon sat at the edge of the bed, her smooth skin glowing under the dim lamplight. Her curves were unveiled, her bra accentuating the gentle swell of her breasts, her panties still damp from earlier. She waited, her heart racing, unsure of what would come next.

He stepped back, hurriedly shedding his own clothes. Jiwon’s eyes widened, her gaze flickering over his body with a mix of awe and nervousness. When he finally removed the last piece of clothing, her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes fell to his shaft, stiff and swollen, and her mind flooded with questions.

Why is it so big?

Is it always like that?

Is it as hard as it looks?

Is it warm—or hot?

Why does it seem so full, like it’s about to burst?

Driven by curiosity, her hand trembled as she reached out, her fingers hovering just above him. But before she could make contact, his hand shot out, catching her wrist gently but firmly.

"Don’t," he said, his voice low and rough, his eyes dark with warning. "I can only hold back so much."

Though she didn’t fully understand his words, she quickly pulled her hand back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

He shook his head, his expression softening. "You don’t need to apologize," he said, his tone gentler now. "Just... let me take care of you."

"Jiwon," he said, his voice low and rough, "look at me."

She obeyed, her wide eyes meeting his, and he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks.

His hands guided her gently, easing her down onto the bed with a tenderness that belied the intensity in his eyes. He kept the intimate distance between their lips, his breath mingling with hers as he climbed onto the bed, his body following hers as he moved her farther into the soft mattress. The weight of him above her was both comforting and overwhelming, his presence enveloping her completely.

He leaned in, finally closing the distance between their lips, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both demanding and tender. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, seeking entry, and Jiwon hesitated for only a moment before parting her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, intertwining with hers in a slow, deliberate dance that left her breathless.

Their kiss seemed unending, each movement of his lips and tongue sending shivers down her spine. But as they kissed, Jiwon became acutely aware of the subtle shifts in his body, the way his hips pressed against hers, the way his tip brushed against her belly with every small movement. At first, she was surprised, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before she closed them again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But as the kiss continued, she found herself anticipating the sensation, her body reacting instinctively to the subtle friction. She began to notice which movements caused his tip to touch her skin, and without fully realizing it, she started to move herself in ways that would bring them into contact more often. It was almost unconscious, a natural response to the heat building between them, but each time she felt him against her, a thrill of excitement shot through her.

His hands roamed over her body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve, every inch of her. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Jiwon," he murmured, his voice rough and strained, "you’re driving me crazy."

She blinked up at him, her lips slightly swollen from their earlier kiss, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I... I didn’t mean to," she whispered, her voice trembling, her words barely audible.

In one swift motion, his hands moved around her back, fingers deftly finding the clasp of her bra. With a soft click, it loosened, and he gently slid the straps down her arms, Jiwon assisting with a quiet compliance. Her chest was now fully exposed, her nipples erect and sensitive to the cool air—and to his gaze.

He didn’t hesitate. Lowering himself, he descended to her torso, his breath hot against her skin as it brushed over her sensitive chest. She shivered, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he began to explore her with his mouth. His tongue flicked against one nipple, teasing it before his lips closed around it, sucking gently but insistently. At the same time, his other hand moved to her opposite breast, his fingers rolling and pinching the nipple with just the right amount of pressure, ensuring it wasn’t neglected.

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her back arching slightly as pleasure rippled through her. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping tightly as she tried to steady herself. The sensations were overwhelming—his mouth hot and demanding, his touch both soothing and electrifying. She could feel once more the heat pooling low in her abdomen.

"Ah—" she whimpered, her voice trembling as she struggled to process the intensity of it all. Her mind was a haze of desire and vulnerability, her thoughts scattering as he continued to lavish attention on her. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle tug of his lips, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.

But the sensation suddenly disappeared…

Before quickly reappearing in her belly.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as the sensations shifted. His tongue, which had been tracing lines across her stomach, now moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. She could feel his hands on her hips, firm yet gentle, as they hooked into the waistband of her panties and began to peel them away. Her womanhood, already slick with arousal, was exposed to the cool air—and to him.

She watched, her heart pounding, as he kissed his way down her thighs, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His breath was warm against her skin, sending shivers through her as he neared her most intimate place. When his head dipped between her legs, disappearing from her view, she felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering, as if he were studying her, memorizing every detail.

Then it happened—something warm and wet pressed against her, and she realized it was his tongue. Her breath hitched, her hands gripping the sheets as he began to explore her with a slow, deliberate precision. The sensation was foreign yet intoxicating, his tongue moving in ways that made her toes curl and her back arch.

But then something changed. His tongue delved deeper, more insistently, moving in unpredictable patterns that left no part of her untouched. It was wide and thorough, exploring her with an intensity that made her gasp. Her mind struggled to process the overwhelming pleasure, her thoughts scattering as he continued to taste her, to devour her.

When he finally pulled back, his head rising from between her legs, she saw him lick his lips, as if savoring the flavor of her. The realization of what he had just done—what he had just tasted—sent a flush of heat to her cheeks. She was utterly exposed, both physically and emotionally, and yet the way he looked at her, with a mix of hunger and reverence, made her feel something she couldn’t quite name.

Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "You... you—" she started, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, how to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

He didn’t speak, either. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her inner thigh in a soft, almost apologetic kiss, as if to reassure her. His eyes met hers, dark and intense, and in that moment, she knew he wasn’t done—not with her, not with this. And despite the whirlwind of sensations and emotions, she found herself wanting more, craving whatever came next.

“Jiwon, i can't hold back any longer” He stated. His eyes meet Jiwon, seemingly waiting for her confirmation.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as his voice broke the silence, low and rough, filled with a tension that mirrored the ache building inside her. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and intense, searching for her consent, her approval. She could see the restraint in his expression, the way his jaw tightened as he waited, giving her the power to decide.

For a moment, she hesitated, her mind racing with a mix of fear and desire. She had never been this vulnerable, this exposed, with anyone before. But the way he looked at her—with a hunger that was tempered by something softer, something protective—made her feel safe, even in her uncertainty.

Her lips parted, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I… I trust you.”

It was all he needed. His eyes flared with something primal, yet his touch remained gentle as he shifted closer, his hands sliding to her hips to guide her into position. She could feel the heat of him, the weight of his desire pressing against her, and her heart pounded in anticipation.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice thick with need but still tender. “Keep your eyes on me.”

She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his as he positioned himself at her entrance. The first touch of him against her sent a jolt through her body, and she gasped, her fingers digging into the sheets. He moved slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, his eyes never leaving hers.

As he finally pushed forward, a sharp, unfamiliar pain tore through Jiwon, stealing her breath and leaving her gasping for air. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, her back arching involuntarily as her body reacted to the sudden intrusion. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she struggled to process the intensity of the sensation. Her mind raced, replaying every choice that had led her to this moment, every step that had brought her here.

“Ah— it hurts…” she pleaded, her voice trembling, her body tense as she tried to endure the pain.

He froze immediately, his body going still as he felt her tense beneath him. The pause gave her a moment to catch her breath, her body slowly relaxing as the initial shock began to subside. The pain, while still present, became more manageable, and her focus shifted from the discomfort to the sensation of him inside her.

She could feel his warmth spreading through her, his presence reshaping her in ways she had never imagined. His throbs pulsed within her, a rhythm that seemed to echo in her very core. Her body heated further, a mix of curiosity and anticipation building within her.

Her thoughts raced, tumbling over one another in a chaotic flood.

Is this what sex is?

What happens after this?

How would it feel if he moved?

The pain that had consumed her just moments ago was now overshadowed by a growing curiosity, a yearning to understand, to experience more. Her passion ignited, her body responding to his presence in ways she couldn’t fully comprehend.

But before she could fully process her thoughts, his voice broke through the haze, his words pulling her back to reality.

Her blood trickles onto you before it stains the bedsheets, a vivid reminder of what just happened. The sight of it sends a jolt through you, a mix of awe and something primal stirring deep within.

“Jiwon… you’re bleeding.”

—

“I—I told you,” she whispers, her voice trembling, pulling your attention back to her. Your gaze shifts to her face, but her eyes are avoiding yours, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something vulnerable. “I’ve never done this before.”

The words hit you like a wave, and it all clicks into place. You remember her saying it earlier, but now, in this moment, the weight of it sinks in. She wasn’t just talking about the circumstances—she meant it was her first time. Ever. The realization sends a rush of heat through you, your body reacting in ways you can’t fully control.

You stare at her, taking in the way her hands grip each other, as if seeking comfort or reassurance. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, bitten nervously, and her entire demeanor screams innocence. This was her first time, and now… she’s no longer a maiden. Because of you.

The thought sends a surge of possessiveness through you, your excitement flaring as you realize what you’ve just claimed. Her first time. Her first everything. The heat in your body rises, your desire intensifying as you struggle to hold onto the last shreds of your sanity. She’s driving you insane, and she doesn’t even realize it.

“Jiwon,” you murmur, your voice low and rough, barely holding back the storm of emotions raging inside you. “…you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She blinks up at you, her wide eyes finally meeting yours, and in that moment, you see it—the trust, the vulnerability, the curiosity. It’s all there, laid bare for you to see. And it only makes you want her more.

You lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s both possessive and tender, trying to convey everything you can’t put into words. When you pull back, your forehead rests against hers, your breath mingling as you try to steady yourself.

“I’ll go slow,” you promise, your voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

She nods, her lips trembling, and you can feel her body slowly relaxing beneath you. You shift slightly, adjusting your position, and then you begin to move again, your thrusts slow and deliberate, giving her time to adjust. The way she feels around you is intoxicating—warm, tight, and utterly consuming. You have to fight to keep your movements controlled, to keep from losing yourself completely.

“Hmmmn…” she whimpers, desperately trying to hold back her moans, her voice trembling with restraint.

You can feel how tense she is, her walls gripping you with such intensity that it’s almost difficult to move. She’s holding back, both physically and emotionally, and you know she needs reassurance. You pull out slightly, feeling her body resist for a moment before you push back in, deeper this time. It’s still tight, but there’s a faint ease, as if her body is slowly molding to yours, adjusting to your size.

“Relax, Jiwon,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing as you continue to move against her, slow and steady. “You’re too tight… just let go. Trust me.”

Her hands grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clings to you. Her breath comes in short, uneven gasps, and you can feel her body responding to you, slowly but surely. Every sound she makes, every tremble of her body, only fuels your desire, and you can feel your restraint slipping. You pull out again, this time a little further, and when you push back in, you can feel her body yielding more easily, allowing you to go deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing control.

“Don’t hold yourself back,” you breathe into her ear, your voice a husky whisper. “Moan for me, Jiwon… let it all out.”

“Oh god… it feels weird, it’s—it’s… ah…” she moans, her voice breaking as she finally lets go, the sound sending a jolt of heat through you.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your voice rough with need but laced with tenderness. “You fit me so well, Jiwon.”

Her eyes flutter closed, her body arching slightly as she begins to move with you, tentatively at first, but then with more confidence. The way she responds to you, the way she trusts you, only makes you want her more. Her innocence, her vulnerability—it’s all for you, and it drives you wild. You pull out again, this time almost completely, and when you thrust back in, you can feel her body opening up to you, accepting you more fully. It’s as if she’s molding to your shape, her walls gripping you tightly but with less resistance, allowing you to push deeper than before.

“Ahh… it’s too much… I can’t… something’s—” she gasps, her voice trembling as her body tenses beneath you.

“Let go,” you urge, your voice a low growl, barely holding back your own climax. “I’ve got you.”

“I ca—can’t anymore… something’s coming—ahh!” she cries out, her voice breaking as her body shudders with the force of her release.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her, your voice strained as you feel your own control slipping. “I’m close too…”

Her body tenses, her back arching as a wave of pleasure crashes over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. You feel her climax around you, her walls gripping you tightly as she cries out softly, her voice breaking with the intensity of it. The sensation is overwhelming, and it pushes you over the edge. You pull out one last time, your body trembling with the effort to hold back, and when you thrust back in, you can feel her body fully accepting you, her warmth enveloping you completely.

With a low groan, you pull out just in time, your release spraying across her exhausted body. It lands on her smooth, pale skin, tainting her once more, marking her in a way that feels both primal and possessive. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

For a moment, you both lie there, breathless and spent, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You can feel her heart racing against your chest, her body pressed close to yours, her warmth seeping into you.

“Jiwon,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with emotion. With your fingers you set aside her hair, pulling a hair strand out of her mouth. “You… you’re incredible.”

The first thing Jiwon noticed when she woke up was the warmth—his warmth. His arm was still wrapped loosely around her waist, his breathing slow and steady against the back of her neck. It was a kind of comfort she’d never known before, and for a moment, she allowed herself to sink into it, to pretend it could last.

She doesn’t say anything, her mind clearly still reeling from what just happened. But as she lies there in your arms, her body pressed against yours, you know one thing for certain—she’s yours. And you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to keep her close. Because she’s not just anyone. She’s Jiwon. And she’s everything.

—

But reality was quick to creep in.

She blinked up at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the night before in fragments—the way he had touched her, not with urgency, but with a patience that made her chest ache. The way his lips had traced her skin with quiet reverence, his voice low and soothing when she hesitated. He had been so gentle, so careful with her, as if she were something fragile.

No one had ever treated her that way before.

Jiwon’s fingers curled into the sheets. Her father’s voice echoed in the back of her mind, sharp and unyielding. "You're to marry Kang, and that's final." It didn’t matter what she wanted; it never did. Love, tenderness—those were luxuries she was never allowed. Her life was a carefully laid-out plan, dictated by family expectations and obligations.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to move, slowly slipping out from under his arm. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake, and she took it as a sign. If she left now, she could convince herself this was just a fleeting mistake—something she could forget.

Standing by the bed, she watched him for a moment longer. In sleep, he looked softer, less guarded, and something deep inside her twisted painfully. She didn’t even know his name, and yet, he had given her something she had never received from anyone before.

She glanced around the dimly lit hotel room, searching for her clothes. As she quietly dressed, her eyes fell on the bedside table. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a few bills and placed them neatly beside his wallet—enough for breakfast, she thought. It was foolish, but it felt like the right thing to do, a way to show gratitude for something she could never truly repay.

With one last glance, she turned toward the door, hesitating just for a second.

Then, without looking back, she slipped out of the room and into the quiet hotel hallway.

As she stepped outside into the crisp morning air, wrapping her coat tightly around herself, she realized she didn’t regret last night.

For once, she had allowed herself to feel.

And maybe that was why, despite everything—despite the man waiting for her at home, despite the weight of expectations pressing down on her—she knew she had already fallen.

...

Part 2

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #fromis 9 smut #fromis #park jiwon #jiwon #fromis 9

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sirenpearldust · 12 hours ago

Text

Mating bond - part three

series masterlist ⋆ part two ⋆ part four

Pair: Eris x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2.007

Warnings: Angst, cheating?

The first month, Azriel was overcome with grief.

He cried endlessly and lost a significant amount of weight, as he couldn’t bring himself to eat or train.

His sorrow consumed him, he secluded himself in the cabin, drowning in alcohol.

Desperate for her, he tugged at the bond, only to feel a void at the other end.

Sometimes he would dream of her or smell her.

• •

The second month

“Azriel, come out! You’ve hidden yourself long enough!” Cassian shouted, his voice rough with frustration as he pounded on the cabin door.

Rhys stood beside him, his breath clouding in the cold air as he exhaled heavily.

“Azriel,” Rhys called, his tone softer but no less firm.

“We can help you. Tell us what’s going on. You’ve been holed up here for weeks, not writing back, not reaching out. We’re all worried.” He sighed deeply, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.

Inside the cabin, Azriel lay sprawled on the bed, his vacant eyes fixed on the ceiling. A half-empty bottle rested on the floor beside him, its contents a testament to his despair.

The bond inside him, once vibrant and unbreakable, now frayed to a single thread.

Azriel could hear his brothers outside, their voices muffled as if coming from far away. The shadows curled around him protectively, hiding his broken form from the world. He closed his eyes, letting their words fade into the background.

In the darkness, memories surfaced unbidden. He saw the moment he first met her, her smile, the way she felt warm and perfect in his arms, how her scent lingered, sweet and intoxicating. Her beauty, it was etched into his soul, a haunting reminder of what he had lost.

Cassian leaned heavily against the door, frustration etched into every line of his face. He turned toward Rhys, resolve hardening his tone. “I’m breaking down this door.”

“Cassian, wait-” Rhys started, raising a hand to stop him, but before he could finish, the door creaked open on its own.

A rush of shadows spilled out, tendrils of darkness snaking toward them with an urgency that set them on edge. The shadows tugged at Cassian and Rhys, insistent and frantic, as if demanding their attention. Without hesitation, the two brothers darted inside, following the shadows deeper into the cabin.

• •

The third month

Azriel searched for her up and down, he wouldn’t give up on her.

His hair grew out, his stubble brushing his chin, he was too busy to shave.

He got broader, training and throwing himself back into work.

His obsession with finding her left no time for family, he was constantly muttering, he was on the edge of losing his mind.

Nothing had truly changed, he only grew more agitated.

He skipped family dinners and while the others worried, they reasoned that he wasn’t drinking anymore.

• •

The fourth month

“What’s it about?” Azriel asked, his tone flat.

“I’ve already told you! Eris’s wedding,” Rhys said, clearly exhausted.

Azriel’s gaze shifted to Rhys, irritation flickering in his eyes. He was pissed, he had work to finish, not care about Eris and his godforsaken wedding.

He rolled his eyes.

“The bastard’s getting married. Why should I care?”

“You have to be there. Think about, she might be in Autumn.”

Azriel rubbed his temples. “Fine.”

He had searched every court up and down, except Autumn, their security was tighter than ever, probably because of Eris’s succession and wedding.

• •

A couple of days later, they winnowed into the wedding hall, already filled with guests. Helion, Thesan, Kallias and even Tamlin were in attendance. People they haven’t seen in centuries were there.

“Eris doesn’t seem to have a budget,” Cassian whistled, eyeing the opulence of the hall. It was far grander than the wedding he and Nesta had. Morrigan, Feyre, Nesta, and even Amren couldn’t hide their amazement, their eyes wandering.

Lucien walked up, flashing a dazzling smile.

“No expenses spared, just Eris being Eris.”

The group laughed in agreement.

“Where’s the bride?” Mor asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“Elain is helping her get ready,” Lucien said proudly.

She had finally accepted the bond and even his family. That’s how you and her even became friends.

Meanwhile, far from the crowd and the grand hall, you and Elain were sharing a laugh as she helped you with your makeup.

“You look beautiful,” Elain said, admiring you after putting the finishing touches on your look.

“Future High Lady of Autumn! Are you excited?”

“I am, Elain,” you replied, though your voice betrayed your nervousness as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers, that trembled.

Elain gently took your cold hand in hers.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled gently.

“I’m just so nervous. What if I stumble and fall in front of everyone?” you confessed, your anxiety through the roof.

“Everything will go smoothly, I promise,” Elain reassured you.

“I didn’t see a vision of that happening.”

You managed a small laugh, but the tremor in your hands remained. The jokes helped, but the unease still lingered in the air.

• •

Azriel stood outside the wedding hall, his anger simmering. Everyone around him seemed to have found their happy ending, while he had let his mate slip away. He let out a bitter chuckle into the cold night air.

His date for the evening was Gwyn, but he could barely stand being near another female who wasn’t his mate.

Azriel’s breath clouded in the frigid air as he inhaled deeply, the scent hitting him like a punch to the gut.

His eyes widened.

He knew that scent.

The one he had dreamed of night and day.

The scent that had consumed his every thought.

She was here.

His rigid shadows stirred and without thinking, they moved towards a window high above the ground.

His wings unfurled, and with a powerful beat, he soared into the air, landing silently in the open window.

There she was standing, breathtaking, stunning in a traditional red autumn wedding dress.

Azriel’s heart stopped for a few seconds. His mind went blank.

She was wearing a wedding dress, to a wedding.

• •

You could barely breathe, your chest tightening as you rubbed your chest. You opened the window, hoping the cool air would help calm your racing thoughts.

Something in your belly twisted, unfurling with a strange, unsettling sensation. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Elain had already left and you were still waiting for Eris to make his entrance, for the first look.

You were lost in your own world when you suddenly felt the unmistakable presence of someone behind you.

The bond flared to life in an instant and the strength of it hit you strongly, bringing you to your knees, gasping in pain.

He was here.

Panic surged through you, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

Before you could collapse, familiar scarred hands caught you, steadying you.

Azriel’s presence flooded the new opened bond and though he sent waves of calm through it, you could still feel the raw undercurrent of anger and sadness beneath his attempt to soothe you.

Your whole body trembled, fear taking over as Azriel tried to soothe you, but nothing seemed to calm the storm inside.

He pulled you close, pressing your head against his chest, his heart. You could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, yet everything around you felt like it was spinning.

He seemed to whisper to you but his words were lost in a blur, your mind was screaming for Eris, reaching out desperately. The thought of being found like this vulnerable, with him…

It was too much.

“Shh, everything is fine,” Azriel murmured, his voice steady and soft.

He held you tight, his scarred, warm hands enveloping your cold, sweaty ones. Slowly, he felt you shaking less, the tremors subsiding as you clung to him, your grip unconsciously tightening around him. He was warm and smelled so comforting, so familiar, it’s as if something had finally clicked.

His fingers gently slid beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him.

For months, your eyes had haunted him and now, as he gazed into them again, his heart clenched. He was holding you, feeling the warmth of your skin against his.

You were real, not a hallucination.

His hand trembled as he softly stroked your cheek, his wings curling around him and you.

The door was firmly shut by his shadows, sealing it off.

You hadn’t yet noticed the muffled sounds from the other side, Eris’s pounding growing louder, frantic, but Azriel’s efforts to block the noise seemed to work.

You tried to pull away from his grip, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to let go. He held you tightly, yet gently, sensing your fear, your hesitation.

You still hadn’t said a word, only staring at him with wide eyes, your chest rising and falling with the unease that filled the air between you.

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours, a move that jolted through you like a shock. You shoved against him, it was not supposed to feel like this.

He released you, stepping back with a chuckle.

He knew what you felt.

“You are not going to marry him,” he said, his voice low and determined.

Confusion washed over you. Your body betrayed you, heat stirring in a place you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Your bond, that undeniable connection, urged you to surrender, to let him take you.

The pull was impossible to ignore.

You took a step back, shaking your head, trying to steady yourself.

“I love Eris. I am going to marry him.” Your voice trembled, though the words were firm, as if you were trying to convince both him and yourself.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, his voice rough.

He pressed you against the vanity, his body firmly against yours, his forehead resting on yours as his hand cupped your cheek.

“You want me. I can feel it,” he murmured, his voice low and intense.

“Simple biology,” you said.

Your eyes locked with his narrowed hazel gaze and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

You shared a breath, the tension between you palpable, heavy. His lips hovered dangerously close, but your mind screamed at you, Eris.

You loved Eris, not Azriel.

This connection with Azriel, this pull, it was just the bond, the biology of it. It wasn’t the same love, you felt for Eris.

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to turn your face away.

“I love Eris,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“This, this isn’t real. It’s just the bond.”

“Give me a chance. Give us a chance,” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking.

“Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you? How long I’ve been waiting to hold you like this, to kiss you, to love you in every way possible?”

Your breath hitched as the bond flared again, sending you a rush of memories, his memories. You felt his raw pain, the endless yearning, the nights he spent consumed by the thought of you. It was overwhelming.

“Don’t marry him,” he pleaded, his voice trembling.

“Please.” He was in pain, begging.

His rough hands were gentle on you, yet firm enough to keep you grounded as you stared into his devastated hazel eyes.

The bond between you ached, pulling you toward him even as your mind screamed against it.

He was pulling you in, and you felt the way he buried himself into your very soul, leaving you breathless and trembling. His presence consumed you, the bond surging with a force that made it impossible to think of anything else. For a moment, it was only him, his hands, his love, the bond.

But then you heard it.

Eris’s voice, screaming your name, breaking through the haze.

Your head snapped toward the door, your breath hitching as the reality of the moment came crashing down.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around the doorway, stifling the fire that Eris’s desperation had ignited.

“Eris,” you whispered, your heart twisting with guilt and confusion.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

Mating Bond - Taglist: @sidthedollface2 @bubybubsters @esposadomd @fightmedraco @cat-or-kitten @thisblogisaboutabook @stqrgirlies-blog @thegirlintheshadows101 @azrielsbabyg @bunnyredgirl @vanserrasimp

PS: I am supposed to sleep but I am sick and pissed.

Mating bond pt three had been for months in the working and now I decided to post it. I don’t like it! But is what it is😆🔫

I am still deciding if Eris gets to marry her or Azriel steals her away🤡

I will make a poll for all of my works (JJk included) you all want me to post next!

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crowsofdarkness · 1 day ago

Text

Soldat: Chapter Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox

Soldat Masterlist

“Steve told me you were a pilot,” I scoffed towards Sam.

We were sitting at a table outside of a restaurant, waiting for our target to walk out. Steve and Nat were a few blocks over, waiting for word from us when we would be moving.

Sam laughed, “I never said pilot.”

“Is it hard to fly?” I questioned with curiosity.

“You get the hang of it after a while. And no, I will not teach you how to fly it,” Sam said.

I faked pouted while I crossed my arms. “You’re no fun.”

He went silent only for a moment before he spoke, all jokes aside. “I know we just met and my opinions don’t matter but we’re bound to see him again. I just want to make sure you’re one hundred percent on taking him down. Like Steve said, he killed someone you all looked up to.”

I nodded. “Can I be honest with you?”

When Sam nodded, I continued. “I don’t know if it was because of how dark it was on the roof but when we saw each other, he acted like he didn’t even know me.”

“How long has it been?”

“Uh-a few years. Maybe I look different or something?” I muttered.

Our attention snapped towards the restaurant as our target walked out, Sam immediately dialing a number on his phone. I sat in silence, placing my sunglasses over my eyes and sat back in the chair.

Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t recognize me that night. It was dark and had been a few years since we saw each other but yet, my heart still dropped when the realization hit that he didn’t recognize me. Was I that easy to forget?

“Let’s move,” Sam said while standing up.

“Steve, do we actually have a plan here or are we just kidnapping this guy?” I questioned from a spot in the middle of the back seat.

We were driving along the highway, trying to make it to Shield Headquarters in time to stop the helicarriers. We had learned from Jasper Sitwell that Project Insight would be launching in less than twenty four hours and we suddenly found ourselves with a change of plans.

Hydra’s plan for the helicarriers was to use them to eliminate millions of people who were any sort of threat to them. All thanks to Zola’s algorithm.

“I’m thinking,” Steve said, not turning his attention towards me.

His eyes were trained to the road ahead of us as Sam continued to drive.

I had tried talking to Steve but he had ignored me; only saying that we would talk about this later.

“Hydra doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell informed us.

“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it,” Sam snapped before changing lanes.

“Insight is launching in sixteen hours,” Natasha pointed out leaning towards Steve, “We’re cutting it a little close here.”

“I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly,” Steve directed to us.

He finally looked over his shoulder to me, only briefly, and I gave him a small smile. The thought of my past with Soldat was still bothering him, I could tell by the way his jaw was clenched tight as he returned the smile.

We'll talk later, I mouthed, promising that I would indulge more about my past to him.

All he did was nod before looking out the front windshield again and I leaned against my seat noticing that Sitwell had an exasperated look on his face.

“Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea.”

Suddenly, a loud thud from the top of the car sounded and I couldn’t help the small scream that left my throat as I watched Sitwell being pulled from the car window and tossed to the other side of the highway, immediately being hit by a semi.

My eyes grew with horror as the quick flash of metal glimmered in front of me causing Natasha and I to jump towards the front of the car, her landing on Sam’s lap while I landed on Steve’s. Gunshots echoed through the small car and Steve wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight grip as he hastily put the car in park, causing the man to roll off the car. His metal fingers dragged along the pavement before coming to a stop a few feet away from us.

“That’s him?” Steve whispered in my ear.

My throat went dry, no words being able to come out so all I did was nod.

A car slammed into the back of ours, pushing it towards him. The Winter Soldier jumped over the hood of our car landing on top with a thud. Sam slammed on the brakes as my hand reached around for my gun and smiled in victory when I pulled it free. Aiming it to the roof of the car, I shot a few rounds.

“Shit!” Sam screamed when the metal arm busted through the front windshield and ripped the wheel off with ease.

It was Natasha’s turn to fire a few rounds and I looked over Steve’s shoulder as the soldier was riding on the hood of the car behind us. They slammed into us a few more times before Steve busted open the door, pulling us to safety as the car hit the median, rolling a few times and coming to a stop.

“Nat!” I bellowed as I watched her and Sam roll away from us while Steve and I were safely sitting on his shield that protected our fall.

She gave me a small wave, indicating that they were alright, and Steve helped me to my feet and I watched his face distort in pain.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“I’m fine. You’re bleeding, though,” His fingers gently grazed over my forehead before showing me the blood that covered his hand.

“I’ll live,” I shrugged and turned towards Sam and Nat who had caught up to us.

We all watched as someone handed the soldier a grenade launcher and without a second thought, Steve pushed me out of the way, blocking the shot with his shield.

“STEVE!” I screamed as I watched him fly off the bridge and straight through a bus.

Suddenly, hundreds of bullets cascaded around us, Sam and Nat taking cover behind a van while I hid on the side of another car across the median. The bullets ricochet against the metal of cars and my body shivered when one flew past my face, my hair flowing with the wind.

My eyes scanned my surroundings, trying to avoid any of the flying bullets, and after fighting with my consciousness, I ran out from behind the car and jumped over the median to the opposite way of traffic. Thankfully with everything going on, cars had decided to exit the freeway long before reaching us.

Weaving my way in and out of the cars that were there, I dared to glance over my shoulder and watched in fear as he launched a grenade at the car in front of me. The heat of the fire engulfed me as the power of the blast sent me flying over the bridge, me landing somewhat safely on an abandoned car.

“Fuck,” I groaned, feeling the wind get knocked out of me.

I laid there for a split second as the pain slowly subsided, wondering why he still couldn’t recognize me. My heart was breaking, realizing that the memories of us might have meant nothing to him.

“Now’s not the time to be a little bitch, Y/N.” I cursed to myself before rolling off of the car.

I ran with a small limp, knife clenched tight in my hand, as I waved people away from the scene.

“Get away! Get back!” I ordered. “It’s not safe!”

Seeing his shadow from the bridge above me, I came to a halt, aiming my gun towards him. I breathed as the bullet hit exactly where I wanted; his goggles.

Not daring to stay back, I scurried over to a fallen bus as I fired a few more rounds behind me, not sure if it was a direct hit this time. I continued to run as fast as I could, hoping I would find Steve soon.

“Fuck!” I screamed out in pain when I felt a bullet rip through my thigh, sending me plummeting to the hard ground.

Biting back the tears, I slowly but hurriedly dragged my limp body over to the car in front of me. I leaned back against it, allowing the coldness of it to cool down my warm body. Glancing down to the wound in my leg, I let out a few large breaths before a guttural scream scratched its way out of my throat as I plunged my finger in the wound, fishing out the bullet with little to no ease.

“Damn it, Steve. Where are you?!” I sobbed, tears brimming my eyes.

If anyone saw me crying right now they would be appalled. Big, tough, Shield Agent, former FBI special ops, former swat member, was crying over a man? I wasn’t crying over a man, per say. I was crying at the thought that Steve was in fact right. If this truly was him, what I had known about Soldat was just a lie.

Without warning, more rapid gunfire sounded in front of me and I watched almost in defeat as someone jumped out of the bus, my spirits lifting only a tad.

“Steve!” I gasped slowly rising to my feet.

He looked over his shoulder after blocking the shots with his shield and ran over towards me, immediately throwing my arm over his broad shoulders.

“Are you alright?” He cooed.

“For now,” I admitted.

The bullets continued to bounce off the shield as Steve and I tried to find safety.

“Stay close,” Steve ordered.

Obeying, I gripped his shirt as we started making our way towards the men that were shooting at us. One of the men to my right fell to the ground, gun clattering away from him. Looking up to the overpass, I gave a small wave of thanks to Sam who had clearly been watching our backs. Steve knocked the last shooter to his feet before coming to my side again. We both looked up to Sam.

“Go! I got this!” He yelled.

Nodding, Steve wrapped an arm around my waist while mine snacked its way around his neck and I tried my best to hold the majority of my weight as we tried to gain our surroundings, looking for Natasha.

“Over there!” I pointed when I saw the soldier had his gun aim at Natasha and was about to pull the trigger.

Steve ran towards him and I watched as the two fought. Shield vs knife. My leg dragged behind me while I used the last bit of my strength to help Natasha off of the ground.

“You’re shot,” she observed.

“No shit,” I groaned, feeling the sudden rush of blood run down my leg.

We both watched Steve as he tried to land punch after punch to the soldier, always coming up empty. We watched in fear as they continued to fight, Steve throwing the soldier over his shoulder, the mask rolling a few yards away.

My body went rigid as he slowly turned around, his unmasked face meeting ours. Blood flooded in my ears while my mouth ran dry, trying to find the right words to say.

He stood a few feet in front of me and he looked exactly the same. Those eyes that haunted my dream for months were suddenly in front of me and everything around me vanished. I wanted nothing more than to walk into his arms.

“Soldat?” I breathed.

“Bucky?” Steve questioned at the same time.

I snapped my eyes over to him, my heart getting caught in my throat at the mention of that name. “Bucky? As in best friend who you thought fell off a train seventy years ago, Bucky?”

“Y/N, this is Soldat?” Steve croaked, realizing that the man who had saved my life years ago was his best friend.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Soldat questioned Steve before his gaze softened on me. “How do you know me?”

“You don’t remember me?” I blinked, surprised. “Russia. 2009. Zola.”

Soldat’s eyes bounced back and forth between Steve and I.

“Y/N,” he whispered, “I know that name.”

I nodded, hoping he would remember, however, The Winter Soldier returned as fast as he had disappeared and raised his gun to shoot but Sam came flying in, literally, and knocked Bucky a few feet away from me.

He quickly stood and stared at Steve, something unreadable coming across his features. He lifted the gun again but was stopped when Nat got a hold of the grenade launcher, sending one off in our direction.

We all jumped out of the way in different directions, me rolling far away from Steve.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Hearing Steve’s voice, I looked behind me, my scream being muffled by a pair of leather gloves while my body was being dragged away from my friends. My wounded leg dragged along the ground as I tried to kick my captor with my good leg.

My efforts were useless as my body was spun around, eyes locked with one of the gunmen working with Soldat.

“Get in the van. Now.”

I continued to fight against him. “Let me go!”

“He wants you,” the gunmen struggled against my punches and kicks.

My fighting seized when I felt a blow to the back of my head causing my body to go limp against his chest.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes

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avifaunaa · 2 days ago

Text

these little regrets [ j.t. & s.s ]

Pre-Fic: Um. Hey. This is my first post on tumblr and have absolutely zero idea what I’m doing. Be gentle with me while I figure out the works of it.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jackie Taylor x Fem!reader x Shauna Shipman

Summary: Your university’s soccer team, the Yellowjackets, crash land in the middle of the wilderness and you must all learn to survive. Unfortunately, this means things get messy when everyone’s periods arrive and yours doesn’t. Especially when Jackie and Shauna learn the reason why.

Content Warnings: Buckle up, my first fic here is kind of dark: A very obvious hint of pregnancy but it is not inherently discussed at large, periods, a pre-established dubious situation ship ( r x j&s ), obsessive and manipulative behavior, non-con, predator and prey dynamics, praise and degradation ( r receiving ), vaginal fingering ( r receiving ), cunnilingus ( s receiving ), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.8k

men and minors DNI

The summer had started bleeding into fall and things were starting to get a little tense between the team. Nat was gone more often and returning with less — but Lottie insisted that they had enough to keep them all above water.

You weren’t so sure.

You were so nervous about the amount of food in the stores when you did the daily count — a job you’d been given by Shauna to do — and would return to her with your concerns.

Today she was in a bad mood, the knife stuck deep into the table and dripping blood into the same stain it had collected from in past months of use. She moved her gaze to you when you approached her, unreadable and detached.

But an eyebrow raised slightly, breaking the fortified stature of Shauna Shipman. She stood straight when you were only feet from her, the table keeping you both separated.

“You never look happy anymore,” you mentioned, breaking the ice as you glanced at the meat she had cut into sections. Rabbit this time — not large like the last one which meant less rations.

“Neither do you,” she replied, palms flattening on top of the surface to meet your gaze. “What’re we looking at?”

You swallowed, curling your fingers together in a locked embrace. “Not counting the rabbit you’re working on, we have the duck jerky left in five strips, two pouches of the berries, but they’ll need to be rationed with meals soon if we want to use them, some cut meats to cook, and three granola bars I found Krystal hoarding.”

“Where was she hiding them?” A dangerous twitch moved Shauna’s upper lip, her eyes getting a dark gleam.

You blushed. “She had them buried under a pile of — um - strips she’s using for her period. They were clean but —“

Shauna raised a hand, effectively silencing you to your great relief. You licked your cracked lips and unlocked your hands, rubbing your scraped up arm instead.

“Fine,” she finally sighed, pushing off the table. “I’ll ask Jackie to send Nat out again tonight. This won’t keep us for a week.”

“Okay,” you said, looking down and kicking your worn tennis shoe in the dirt. “I’m gonna go help Misty with the water bucket, but I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” You look up before you can turn around, and see Shauna watching you carefully. “Are you cramping? Hungry? I can . . . Offer a couple of extra rations. But only if you’re quiet about it.”

You tug your lip between your teeth, cheeks starting to burn slightly. This was Shauna trying to care for you in the only way Shauna could, you supposed. She was the more emotionally conservative between her and Jackie when it came to you when you had grown close over the last year.

Her way of showing it had been acts of service, or being overprotective as a way to communicate her feelings to you. It didn’t fix that she didn’t open up to you in the same way that she did to Jackie, though.

“I should be . . . I should be okay. I don’t want to take anyone’s rations. Fairness and all,” you told her.

“I offered it because I think you need it more, not because it’s fair,” Shauna stated, pushing off the table completely and grabbing the shirt-turned hand wipe rag as she smeared the fresh blood off of her palms and onto it instead.

You wanted to deny her offer, but the look she gave you was a warning. You swallowed hard, feeling trapped by obligation to accept but drowning already in the guilt of knowing you’d get extra while your teammates starved a little more.

“I don’t want to make anyone mad.”

That earned her the tiniest of smiles from Shauna. “Oh, sweetheart,” she crooned, “you let me take care of that. Your periods are really bad from what I remember. You skipped classes an entire week once.”

“You remembered that?”

“Of course. Now — don’t worry about anything anyone says. Just take the extra food.”

Something about the offer felt terribly wrong but declining a second time would flame the already short fuse Shauna had these days.

“Okay,” you agreed, demure. You adverted your gaze again to the side. “Misty’ll be looking for me, so . . .” You trailed off.

“Sure.” A dismissal, but you felt her watching even as you turned and high tailed it away to find the curly haired blonde, heart racing in your chest as you made your escape.

You got worried when everyone seemed to sync up but your period managed to evade you.

You got scared when the vomiting throughout the day started.

You had been so careful — the party before the team had left for their big game. It was a booze filled night of entertainment and fun and sex. The guy was lost in your memory — some frat boy who crashed the party with his friends but managed to snag your attention briefly.

You woke up the next morning and left before he could so much as stir in the sheets. You had been careful — you assured that even in your drunken lustful haze, demanding the condom before anything else further.

But now here you are weeks later, recovering from a spell of nausea and feeling the world spinning beneath your feet. Your breakfast was gone on the forest floor.

“Bunny?”

Jackie’s footsteps were loud as she approached you, a frown marring her freckled features.

“Hey, Jax,” you said, wiping your mouth and straightening up before your body was ready. “What’s up?”

“I was coming to find you, actually,” she said, rubbing her palms down her pants. “Shauna and Lottie said that today’s rag cleaning day if — y’know.”

“I’m — okay,” you quickly, too quickly, agreed. “Um, I’ve been throwing mine away, though.”

Jackie blinked owlishly at her, then pursed her lips. “That’s a waste, don’t you think, Bunny? Have you been ripping all your clothes up the entire week?”

Fuck.

“Mine are really bad. Super heavy. You’ve seen the tampons I have to use, Jackie,” you shoot back, hoping she’ll drop the matter.

She doesn’t. But she does stray closer. “I haven’t seen you ripping your stuff up, though, now that I think about it. You’ve only got the three outfits left. Not a piece torn off of them.”

You had nothing to say, caught foolishly in your own lie too quickly for it to have grown. “I-“

“You’re not on your period, are you?” she asked, arms crossing, eyes darkening.

You didn’t answer, a panicked heat coursing through you as you looked anywhere but at her face. “Please don’t tell anyone. I — I don’t know what’s —“ you broke into tears.

There was silence as you broke down, before Jackie sighed. “Oh, Bun,” and stepped into your space to wrap her arms around you. Soft hands carded through your hair, and despite yourself you curled deeply into the embrace.

“I think I’m —“ you choked, a sob echoing through your shattered heart and battered body. You didn’t have it in you to say it lest it be true.

“Mm, I know.” Jackie’s chin rested on top of your shaking head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. But we’ve got to tell Shauna.”

“No!” You wailed, face burying deeper into the jacket that smelled so starkly like Jackie and home. “No, anyone but Shauna.”

“Listen to me.” Suddenly, your comfort was gone and those hands fisted your shoulders in type grip as Jackie forces you back and stared hard at you, “You lied to my face and lied by omission to Shauna by not telling her you fucked someone before we left. You know how she is, Bun.”

“She’ll hate me,” you spluttered, thinking of the fury that Shauna can express at times.

“Hate you? Doubtful. She’ll be so pissed. I’m so pissed. We gave you rules that might, didn’t we Bun?”

“I don’t — I don’t know,” you sniffled. You don’t remember much of that night — most of it drowned in drinks and loud music and Shauna and Jackie before they left you to your own devices like they sometimes did.

“That’s alright,” Jackie said, hand reaching up to pet your hair again, “but you’re still going to have to answer for breaking them. A broken window can’t fix itself.”

Your brain was fuzzy with confusion and desperation as Jackie spoke. Why would you be punished for a set of rules set for one night weeks ago that you don’t remember?

“You told me nothing was —“ you began, than wisely shut your mouth before it got you into real trouble.

“What?” she asked, lips pulling into a thin line as she eyed you. “We told you . . . What?”

“Nothing,” you whispered and instead try to lean forward to seek out her comfort despite the unease that overcame you tenfold.

“Okay.” She let you back in, soothing your tears and promising you things you should have known would never have happened — mercy.

You didn’t eat.

Jackie had stayed miraculously quiet the entire time when you both returned to the cabin, only offering Shauna that sly little smile of hers as greeting.

The look Shauna returned was nothing less than scolding, but you didn’t dare to ask what over.

Shauna set you up with a meal double the amount everyone else had. Marina made a noise of protest while Van questioned why you got more.

“Because the Wilderness allowed her so,” Lottie said in place of their butcher, quiet but presently watching with a curious look. “It wants her to have more — so she will.”

“Fuck that,” Tai said, glaring between you and Shauna, “that’s not gonna happen. We need this to last, Shipman. Remember?”

Shauna met her glare with a steely gaze that could make, apparently, even Taissia Turner back down ( but not without grumbling ).

Your stomach suddenly flipped into your throat as conversation rose around you, everyone finding it wise to drop the matter as though it never happened at all.

You played with the scraps of meat, pulling it apart and squeezing it between your fingers but not taking a single bite. The juice from them soaked your fingers with grease, leaving behind an oily sensation.

Jackie leaned over from where she sat close to you, lips brushing your ear, “Eat it, Bunny. You’re going to need it more than you think.”

Your eyes flicked upward, locking instantly with Shauna — who was across from you by Lottie, leaned into her as the other girl murmured something.

A glint — and she gestured to your meal with just a couple of fingers. Eat it, went unspoken, but was silently ordered.

You ate it slowly as your teammates came to a finish with their own, trying in vain to stall the inevitable. By the time you had finished it all under Jackie’s watchful gaze, everyone else had gone and gotten ready to bed down for the night and were chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“Bunny.”

Your attention focused on Shauna while you wiped your fingers slowly on your pants, wishing you had things like napkins.

Or space.

“Yeah?”

“Jackie told me something interesting earlier, before dinner,” she said quietly, leaning an elbow on her criss crossed knees and laying her chin upon her palm. “I’ve been asking Lottie what we should do.”

Your unease creeps back in like venomous snakes into a cradle, twisting your guts and tightening around you.

“Can we — please can we um, go outside?” you whispered, fingers making grooves into your the skin of your arms you hadn’t realized you’d wrapped around yourself.

“I think that would be best,” Lottie agreed, moving to stand first. “The Wilderness must be privy to this change.”

You had no idea what Lottie was talking about and you almost told her that you only wanted it to be you, Shauna, and Jackie, but you were silenced by Jackie wrapping her fingers around your wrist and squeezing.

The cabin had grown silent as the four of you got up and began moving to the door with a direction to outside. You refused to look at anyone, at anything, but your shoes — which you’ve become rather familiar with in the last few weeks.

Outside was colder than it was earlier in the day. The sun hadn’t completely set yet, but it was shaded behind the trees and no longer had warmth to offer.

Jackie didn’t let go of your wrist even when the four of you found a spot near Shauna’s makeshift butcher’s corner.

“So, Bunny,” Jackie started immediately, smiling like she was about to express something good, “we agreed to talk to Shauna.”

You shuffled closer, almost behind Jackie, clenching your fists in her jacket and closing your eyes. “Jackie, please.”

“Now, Bun,” Jackie said, tone losing some of its joy and taking a harder edge. “This is what happens, remember? You don’t get to be a slut and get away Scot free!”

A shallow breath escaped someone’s chest. You guessed Shauna, because Lottie was still next to her and eyeing you and Jackie thoughtfully but without much interest in the situation.

A laugh followed the breathy sound, “Jackie you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Jackie pouted, nose turning into your hair, “She was taking so long to tell you.”

“She’s being punished.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to move to the fun part of the punishment sometime tonight.”

“You’re being a brat,” Shauna warned, but it held no merit. It was amused, if anything, in the way that Shauna always found amusement in Jackie’s antics.

Jackie’s eyebrows fluttered, “Then give me what I want and I’ll be on my absolute best behavior.”

Shauna snorted but turned her entire focus to you now. Your relief at being forgotten went down the drain and was lost as she regarded you with an icy stare. “So, you just bend over for anyone — is that it? Take what’s give to you?”

“N-no—“

“Because,” Shauna interrupted, stepping closer, into your bubble as if it didn’t exist in the first place, “I could have sworn that Jackie and I told you to go home when we did that night. We trusted you to listen to us and I don’t know — keep your fucking head on?”

“I don’t remember—“

“We know,” Jackie soothed, petting you again. The interrogation — the nice and mean — it was keeping you from thinking clearly. “But there’s still a price to pay, unfortunately. Right Lottie?”

Lottie blinked, jolting from whatever thought scape she was in. “The Wilderness senses an imbalance,” she stated, her head swiveling to look out into the darkening forest, “and it demands it be restored willingly before it starts taking it from us instead.”

“I — how does that have anything —“ panic began to rise, and your voice started to raise, but a hand slapped over your mouth as Jackie reeled around and pressed herself against your back.

“Shut up,” Shauna told you, lip curling, “and listen to us for once, you stupid little thing. Can you do that? Can you listen?”

Trying not to cry, you nod shakily. Anything to stay alive.

“Good girl. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to let you go and you’re going to run from us, yeah? Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” Shauna grins now.

Jackie hummed against you, hand still across your mouth, “Shauna didn’t want to, but I’m making her give you until the moon is all the way up — when it’ll be at it’s brightest. I think it’s more fun that way. To see you trying to hide in the shadows.”

Shauna tilted her head, seeing you tremble. “When we catch you — and we will — the balance will be restored. Now Jackie is going to remove her hand, and you won’t scream because then they’ll know about our game and I’ll have to cut your time in half. Deal?”

What choice did you have? With a nod so shaky that it barely came through, Jackie released you from her hold. The four of you stood there for a moment, and you blinked away tears as Jackie purred,

“Run, Bunny.”

You darted off into the forest, escape and fears of what happens if they capture you keeping you from thinking about much else.

You’d been running for hours by the time the moon offers a harsh glow on the forest floor. You’ve ran through a river and tried your best to cover your tracks — but you knew too well that Jackie had been learning things from Nat lately.

It’s all to be used against you tonight.

You needed to find a hiding place and quickly — you may have a better chance of making it through if you were able to find somewhere to wait the rest of the night out and hope they passed you.

With a racing heart and a knowledge of the little time you had left, you sought out anywhere that was tightly packed but able to contain you even if uncomfortably.

Your answer was a fallen tree log, dug out as a nest by some animal long ago but since abandoned if the materials inside were to go by. You did your best to shuffle around and use the old shrubbery as a barrier to make it harder for them to spot you.

Time continued to pass by and now it was a terrible waiting game that you had no upper hand in. The energy you had spent playing it was exhausting and you were losing the effort to try and stay awake the longer you hid.

You were cold, too, and you recall Misty once telling one of the girls that falling asleep while exposed in the cold could easily kill you. You weren’t sure how much of an expert Misty was on matters of wilderness survival — but she had been right on a lot of it so far.

It didn’t take much longer for them to track you down.

They’d been quiet amongst one another, but they didn’t want to spook you if you were nearby. Jackie had ordered silence when she noticed how frantic your tracks became and she grinned at Shauna.

“Bunny found herself a hole somewhere.”

And so the search for the hole began, footsteps trying to be light as they sought you out in the dead of night when the moon shone at its brightest.

A red sneaker flashed in your peripheral vision — and —

Fingers curled around your ankle and jerked you out of your hiding spot — not gently — and Shauna was waiting to grab you by the hair as you fought them.

“Hey, Bunny,” she crooned, uncharacteristically soft.

Jackie shoved you down face first and the impact of your nose and forehead hitting the cold frozen floor had you seeing white.

Your head was pulled up again and when your vision cleared, it was Shauna who was there. “Sorry, pretty girl,” she said, sending a look over your shoulder, “We can count that little bump as points towards your punishment.”

You groaned, head swimming. “Don’t hurt me.”

Jackie laughed behind you. Your legs suddenly split open forcefully and you could feel someone settling behind you. “We’re not going to hurt you,” she promised. “As long as you tell us who bent you over and fucked you like a bitch in heat when you could’ve asked us like usual.”

“I don’t know.”

A deadly silence replied to your answer. Then your chin was grabbed roughly, neck twisting at an upward angle so that you had nowhere to go but Shauna — who appeared back to normal very quickly.

“You better know. You let him breed you like a common whore.”

You cried out when your pants were roughly jerked down your legs, exposing you to the cold air. Jackie breathed in when she saw you — staring for a moment.

“You’re going to want to tell her, Bunny,” Jackie finally said when your sobs weren’t enough to deter either of them, “or she may get really pissed.”

“Please, please! I promise I don’t know! I don’t remember so much of that night! I left when I woke up!”

Shauna’s grip remained iron tight as she watched you plead. Your tears were flowing at a rate she otherwise would be enraged to see — but it was her causing it. Her and Jackie. Nothing was more perfect than this moment.

“Okay, we believe you,” Shauna decided after letting you sob it out a few more seconds.

“L-let me go, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the frozen earth underneath you in an effort to gain some form of control. “The balance. It’s fine now. Please.”

Jackie laughed. “Yeah, that might be fixed, Bunny. But this is something else now. We’re going to reclaim what’s been taken from us.”

You closed your eyes, drawing your arm into you and burying your face in it to muffle the sobs as your panties disappeared next. With Jackie between your legs and forcing them to stay open and Shauna raking rough hands through your hair, you had no true way to escape.

“Next time,” Jackie starts as two fingers spread you open and find the shameful wetness there, “you may not be so inclined to seek things out that you already have.”

“Hey.” Fingers snapped in your face and Shauna tugged on your hair. You looked up at her and in that time she stuck her thumb between your lips. “You’re so fucking slutty that you couldn’t wait a day? You just took it from the first person who looked at you right?”

“No! No! I don’t know! I was sad!”

“I thought you couldn’t remember,” Jackie reminded you, nails digging into your ass. “Are you lying to us again?”

“No!” you squealed, trying to wiggle away but had nowhere to go. “I only meant — I do remember feeling sad! Because you left without me! Again!”

“So you slept with someone else?” she reiterates, nails digging into deeper.

“Stop!” You cried, overwhelmed and wanting this to end. They ignored you, awaiting your answer, “I did it because I’m tired of the mixed signals you’re giving me! I was sad, and needed to feel somethin’!”

Shauna growled low in her throat, grip tightening so hard it had you squealing again. She loosened it briefly, “So instead of being a good girl and coming to us with your feelings like you’re usually good at, you whore around?”

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed, beyond comprehension and unable to even clearly understand the situation anymore.

Jackie and Shauna shared a look between them that you missed — it held a satisfactory gleam that gave them endless pleasure.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll prove it,” Jackie cooed when she finally released her nails from your skin and let them drift back down.

“A-anything,” you whimpered, “please just don’t be angry anymore.”

“We’re going to take back what belongs to us,” Shauna told you, leaning down and brushing her chapped lips against yours. It was a tender kiss and your addled brain was fooled into the false sense of security.

It distracted you until two fingers pushing into your heat pulled you away, a gasp breaking from your lips and causing Shauna to chuckle deep against you.

“You were so wet already, so ready for me,” Jackie mentions, leaning her body across your back as her knees pumped in time with her fingers in your pussy. “I could be forgiven for thinking you didn’t want this.”

You went to answer, but the strangled noise you made is all you could offer as her fingers twisted and pushed. Her breath was hot and quick against the back of your neck as she worked you up roughly.

Shauna tapped your jaw with rapt energy. “If you want to come, you’re going to ensure I do as well,” she crooned as she unzipped her pants and worked them down. She stayed on her knees but drew your head close.

“You know how to please Shauna, Bunny,” Jackie murmured, teeth finding home in your neck briefly, then releasing, “so do it.”

You did as you were told and started nosing into Shauna’s thighs, tongue licking a stripe upward first — she needed her clit stimulated first in order to be receptive to anything else.

It was more difficult when Jackie’s pace kept getting rougher and she found it necessary to work in a third finger. You cried out against Shauna, making your displeasure known.

“You’ll take it,” Jackie said, kissing the bruise she left on your neck, “because you want to atone for your sins and this is how you do it. But you can cry. We don’t mind.”

Shauna encased you between her thighs when you started becoming a little shifty — something she’s done since the minute she had you in her and Jackie’s bed.

“Fucking — tongue inside,” Shauna ordered, now digging into your scalp. You did as she said, moving away from her clit and focusing on eating her out instead.

“Good fucking girl,” she gasped, pushing into your face, using it to ride against for more stimulation. “Yeah — you could’ve been doing this instead of —“ you curled your tongue, not wanting her to insult you further, “fuck!”

Unfortunately for you as Shauna’s pleasure increased, Jackie would increase yours along with it. She was grinding herself roughly against you, and her thumb had finally began to rub hard circles against your clit.

And then she found your g-spot. She felt it, stuttered in movement when you let out a noise of near ferocity, and began thrusting deeper in earnest.

It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before — even with them. Your emotions were plummeting but your body felt entirely too good for you to ask for a reprieve you know you wouldn’t get.

So you let yourself be thrown into the pleasure you were given so you wouldn’t be forced to hurt at the hands of the two women you thought you knew and loved.

Shauna stuttered above you when you dragged your teeth lightly across her, not having meant to. She came with a low groan, shuddering through it as you licked until she finally came down.

Jackie had stopped inside of you to watch Shauna — and though you couldn’t see it, her eyes were glazed over with adoration as she watched Shauna in bliss.

When Shauna pulled away from you and pulled up her pants, eyes glazed over, she tapped your chin again.

“Are you going to make a mistake that horrible again?”

You shook your head. The moonlight reflected the wetness that remained on your face and it meant everything to Jackie right now.

Shauna looked up at Jackie. “Make her come.”

Jackie began anew, more forceful in her fucking than she was previously. She was brutal in pace and in effort: using all of her willpower to send all your nerves into overdrive.

You were a mess under her, crying out to stop, for it to never end, for —

Jackie rubbed your clit once, twice, three times and with a painful shiver that racked your entire form, the orgasm raced through you like a tidal wave coming to devastate an entire city.

You sobbed through the power of it, unable to handle just how much jolting waves were spasming through your body.

Shauna put your head in her lap and ran her hands across your shaking form as you rode it out, Jackie unrelenting and sending you straight into another.

Eventually, however, she slowed her movements until she was still above you. You shivered beneath her despite your shaded body heat and you were choking on your emotions.

“We love you, you know,” Jackie whispered into your back, closing her eyes to bask in the moment. “We love you so much.”

“I didn’t want this,” you whispered, but you sought out their comfort and their gentleness as it was given. You needed to flee from their cruel brutality and be welcomed back into their warmth.

“We know,” she said, pulling out slowly. She pulled your pants up. “But you needed to learn this lesson and understand that every action has a reaction that fits.”

“You did really, really good,” Shauna said suddenly, lifting your face again to kiss you.

“So good. Our good girl once more,” Jackie added.

They let you lay there for a while, soothing your hurts that they know to be the cause of but unwilling to accept.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” Shauna was the one to slide you into her arms once you were too exhausted to cry — too drained to protest.

You tucked her face into her chest, knowing that this was the truth: they will never let you go.

When they returned to the cabin around dawn, Lottie was still awake. You were asleep in Shauna’s arms and had been for a while. They let you sleep.

Lottie stood from the porch when the two approached. She smiled at them.

“The balance has been restored.”

#jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jackieshauna #the yellowjackets #jackieshauna x reader #content warning #dark fic

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witchygagirlwrites · 9 hours ago

Text

Broken Bonds-Part 29

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton, Coparenting Jay Halstead x Reader

Intelligence closes in on the crew behind the cop killer rounds when another shooting happens.

Your alarm blaring jolted you out of your sleep. The older Addy got the less she woke up before it. You reached out and slapped the button before it could wake her considering you’d left your bedroom door open the night before, nightmares were still raging pretty well considering there had been a third shooting and still nothing as far as leads. You felt like intelligence was spinning your wheels and the worst part was that not only was your unit at risk, all of Chicago was the longer the crew supplying those rounds was out on the streets.

You knew Mouse would’ve come across town in a heartbeat if you would’ve called him no matter the time but damn his job was just as dangerous as yours. The marshal service was called out on fugitive hunts across the nation. You dragged a hand over your face and kicked the blanket off. You just needed a cup of coffee and you would be fine.

You swung your legs out of the bed and the moment your feet hit the floor you heard Addy’s telltale giggle followed by her calling out “Mommy” the dark clouds of your mind parted with her voice as a smile slipped onto your face “I hear ya babygirl, mommy’s coming”

You walked out of your room and across the living room to push open her bedroom. She was standing up on the side of her crib and you laughed when you saw how her curls were standing up in every direction. “Oh baby. You do look like mommy right now” she used one hand to pat at her hair and smiled big “I pretty like mommy. Hayhay say so”

You shook your head with a laugh “Did she now?” and picked her up out of the crib. She wrapped her arms around your neck “You wanna get dressed and call Mou to see if he wants to meet for breakfast?” she grinned “I wanna see Mou” you nodded “Ok then, let’s go get mommy’s phone” you and her walked back across to your room and you grabbed your phone off the charger.

You hit Mouse’s number and held it between your ear and shoulder as you headed back to her room to find her clothes “Well good morning beautiful” he answered and Addy giggled “Mornin Mou” his voice softened instantly “If it isn’t my favorite little girl. What are you doing this morning, Miss Halstead?” she cut her eyes up at you and you nodded “Ask him baby” she leaned closer to the phone “Mou I want breakfast” he chuckled lightly “Ok sweetheart. Tell your mommy to get you dressed and meet me at the diner. I’ll be waiting” “kay, bye Mou. Love you” “Love you too sweetheart” he told her and she shoved the phone back at you. You pulled the phone up to your ear “See you at the diner?” he laughed “I guess so. I love you” “I love you too”

You hung up and she grinned at you “Love you mommy” you smiled “Love you too baby. We’ll call daddy and Hayhay too before we leave so you can tell them good morning. They’ll pick you up from Mrs Cruz” she nodded “kay”

You sat across from Mouse in the booth with Addy between the two of you. She was picking at a waffle and talking his ear off about the beauty and the beast since you, her and Hailey had decided on a disney movie marathon when he and Jay had gone out for a beer a couple nights before.

You weren’t sure what the impromptu night out for the two of them was about but you and Hailey were perfectly content with it being just the two of you with Addy. “He had books?” Mouse asked, a grin on his face broad enough his dimples were showing. Damn that man every time you thought “Ok, I can't possibly love him any more” he’d do something like show that much enthusiasm over a cartoon movie just to appease your daughter.

He cut his eyes up at you and winked before telling her “I think I need to be involved in the next movie night Addy” She nodded “Yeah mommy” you shook your head “Baby, the reason it was me, you and Hayhay was because Mou was with Daddy” she nodded “Oh, kay” and went back to picking at her waffle. He watched you for a second and the smile on his face made your heart flip, you felt your face warm so you nodded towards his food “Finish your breakfast Mou”

A small smirk slipped onto his face “Yes ma’am” and he started eating, laughing when Addy slipped a piece of bacon off of his plate. You loved seeing the two of them together just like you loved seeing her and Hailey together. You never would’ve dreamed when you first found out you were pregnant of a day like this getting here. You had solid footing, finally. She had two parents that would move heaven and hell for her and a Hayhay and Mou that would be right next to her parents helping.

Your phone rang and you glanced down to see Jay’s number. “Hello?” he took a breath “Sweetheart, I know you’re still at breakfast but can you go ahead and take her to daycare? There’s been another shooting?” you cut your eyes up at Mouse and he must have read your expression because he got Addy’s attention so you whispered “Same rounds?” “Yeah” Jay replied so you sighed “Text me the address. I’m right down from the daycare then I’ll be to you” “Ok. Be careful and vest up time you drop her off, please. While you’re at it tell Mouse to vest up until he gets in to his team” “I will” you promised then hung up.

Mouse held your gaze and you forced a smile “Ok Addy, we’re gonna pay then I gotta get you to Mrs Cruz cause that was papa Voight. I gotta get to work” she nodded “Kay”

_________________

Mouse followed you out to your jeep and after you buckled Addy in and closed her door you turned to him “There’s been another shooting with the same rounds. Jay said to vest up until you get to your team, please” He nodded “You do the same as soon as you drop her off” you smiled “I will. I love you” he pulled you closer to brush his lips against yours in a gentle kiss “I love you too” then he tapped on the jeep window before turning to head towards his truck.

You took a deep breath before walking around to climb in the driver’s seat. You couldn’t let her see anything was wrong. Your job was to leave it all at the door and not let it affect her.

You pulled up the address Jay had texted and parked right behind his truck. You climbed out and slipped your badge around your neck on the long chain that rested mid chest. You normally wore it clipped to your side but this was once you weren’t bothering with it. You needed to get to your unit.

You walked to the yellow tape and a uniform immediately held it up for you and nodded “Detective Kidd” you smiled slightly when you recognized him “Sterling” he motioned towards the corner “Intelligence is over there ma’am” “Thank you”

________________

You headed in the way he pointed and spotted Kevin first. He turned and saw you and his shoulders sagged slightly. That wasn’t good. “How bad Kev?” you asked when you got to his side. He tilted his head “Come on” you fell in step with him and followed him to where the rest of the unit was. You met Jay’s eyes before you spotted the two bodies

It was a T.O. who died trying to protect her rookie when the shooting started. This was on intelligence. “We should’ve already found these assholes” Hank muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. He looked around “Get the word out to your C.I.s the reward is worth the risk. We need information and we need it now”

“Yes sir” you all echoed. You cut your eyes at Jay and nodded towards the edge of the group.He followed you and once you were far enough away you stepped closer to him “This is turning towards cops” he nodded “I know” you swallowed hard before saying “Maybe Addy should stay with Stella and Kelly for a couple days until we figure this out” his eyes moved past you to the body that was being covered with a white sheet. You wondered if he was seeing you like you were seeing him laying there or if he was seeing Hailey like you had already seen Mouse laying there. “Yeah, that may be a good idea” he agreed, finally looking back at you. You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze “I’ll call her when we get to the precinct. You can still pick her up from daycare and just drop her off with Stel so it doesn’t throw her schedule off”

He nodded “Ok sweetheart. This is just..” he trailed off and you nodded “I know”

Somehow you ended up at Jay’s that night.You were curled up on the end of his couch with Hailey leaning against your arm. It was bothering all of you that Addy was at Stella and Kelly’s instead of either of your places. Every precinct was on high alert, Mouse was in the kitchen with Jay and you could hear him saying how the marshal’s office had also been informed about it.

If cops were becoming targets you couldn’t be sure the extent of that target and when it came to her? There wasn’t a limit to keeping her safe even if it meant making all four of you miserable. Jay’s phone rang and you and Hailey both almost jumped out of your seats.

“Hello?” you tried to listen but only caught his side of the conversation “Yeah” “She’s here with me and Hailey?” “Ten tomorrow morning?” “Ok”

He hung up and you and Hailey both looked at him “What?” he nodded towards the phone and took a deep breath “One of Voight’s C.I.’s got a tip. The crew is from Arizona. They’ve been selling out of a market on the north side. The next meet is set for tomorrow morning. Ten a.m. They’re looking for buyers.We’re going in as heavy hitters”

You nodded “Who’s we?” he pointed to himself then you then Hailey. “Why the three of you?” Mouse asked and you could see the anger in his eyes at the idea of the danger you were walking into “We fit the bill better as to their customer type apparently. We go in and set up the buy, if it goes well patrol and major crimes will be waiting to back us up”

You met Mouse’s eyes and could see the worry in them, especially at the word “if”

“It’s worth the risk” you finally said after a moment and Hailey nodded in agreement “We’re all at risk here. If this keeps going none of us are safe. If they start targeting off duties..how long is Addy safe? Or Makayla? Or anyone? We do this for the kids of the unit at the very least”

Jay and Mouse shared a long look before they both finally nodded “Ok” Mouse cut his eyes at you “Ok”

___________________

“I don’t understand how the hell it goes from you and Jay not being able to partner because you have a child together to lets send you two to buy from a crew selling cop killer rounds?” Mouse’s jaw was clenched so hard you were fairly certain you could hear his back teeth grinding against each other. You turned in his arms to run your hand down the side of his face, brushing some of his hair back behind his ear “It’ll be ok baby. We can handle it. I promise you. Nothing would keep me and Jay from crawling our asses home to Addy, you know that”

He nodded, eyes closing for just a moment before he opened them, the bright blue focusing on you “If something happens to you..” you cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “It won’t. You know Jay, You know me. Hailey is just like me. We can do this. We have to for everyone’s sake”

He nodded, pulling you closer to him “I love you” you smiled “I love you too, now come here and show me you love me before we got to sleep” he shook his head “You’re an insane woman Kidd” you grinned “And yet you would walk through hell itself for me Gerwitz” he nodded “About time you figured that out” and caught your lips in a lingering kiss.

You stood next to Hailey, trying not to pull at the kevlar that was under your clothes. It was lightweight pieces that would stop up to a handgun and slow down birdshot but that was pretty much it. Against the rounds these assholes were peddling it may as well have been cardboard but it was better than nothing. “Kidd stop fidgeting” Kevin’s soothing voice came through your com and you calmed just a bit hearing him.

Hailey reached her hand out for yours and squeezed it gently. Jay looked back at the two of you and nodded as he led the way through the market. The C.I. was to meet you next to the antique shop. Then he’d walk you to the sellers. You fell in step with Hailey, squaring your shoulders.

“C.I. is in place” Voight’s voice was next and you spotted a man leaning against the antique shop in a dark grey suit, fidgeting with his collar. “Someone should tell him not to fidget” you muttered and Hailey smirked. Jay shook his head so you knew he heard you too. “What’s the play Voight?” he asked and Voight said “You three know how to handle this. Call it if you need to but try to see the ammo first” “Copy that” you spoke, rolling your eyes.

You instinctively reached for your crescent ring then remembered considering the task you’d left it, your mother’s ring and the full moon pendant Jay had gotten you for Christmas on your dresser this morning. The only thing out of your usual jewelry you wore was the permanent bracelet on your right wrist that matched Hailey, Kim and Stella. It sold the story more that you and she were sister’s and Jay was her husband.

You just had to get through today,take these assholes down then you could get your babygirl home. That was what pushed your legs forward, regardless of any amount of danger that could be in front of you.

_______________________

You walked next to Hailey as Jay talked to the C.I. He was leading the three of you towards the back of the market. Your stomach was in a knot but you knew one yell from either of you and CPD would wrap this place up tight. When he turned the last corner you spotted a couple dark suvs. He patted Jay’s shoulder “These are the guys. Two brothers. They’ve got this whole setup. The ammo is just a part of it man”

You cut your eyes at Hailey as the four of you approached the buildings the suvs were parked in front of “We’re moving in closer” Kim’s voice hit your ears. You stepped closer to Hailey as a few men stepped out of the building. “Damn sis, didn’t know we could bring our guards” you laughed and one cut his eyes your way “What was that?” you shook your head “Nothing, just joking” then followed Jay in the door.

You hoped backup was as close as they were supposed to be. When you stepped into the building you realized this was the setup. The equipment around you could manufacture bullets. They were making these damn things under your nose this whole time” “Nice setup” you spoke and one of the men laughed “Isn’t it. Well let’s meet the men in charge”

Two men came walking out of the back of the building. They were a little taller than Jay but slimmer built. Kinda lanky really but they didn’t really need to be physically imposing considering they had human embodiments of grizzly bears behind them as bodyguards. One eyed Jay “You Jack Kingston?” he nodded “This is my wife Veronica and her sister Vivian” you both nodded in turn. The man who spoke nodded “Phillip Jones, this is my brother Eric. We hear the three of you are in the market”

“Looking to spend about two mil” Hailey spoke and Phillip nodded “Respectful for the first purchase. Let me show you the merchandise” you cut your eyes at Jay, knowing that as soon as the ammo was confirmed CPD was coming in.

Phillip looked towards one of his grizzlies and the man disappeared and came back carrying a large crate. He sat it down in front of Jay and pried the top off. “Armor piercing rounds. That’ll go through anything” Phillip bragged and you nodded “Impressive. Just what we needed”

Jay stepped closer to you and Hailey as Voight’s voice came across the radio “You three get clear” then a couple seconds later the call out of “CHICAGO PD” started to ring through the buildings.

_________________

You snatched your gun from your lower back and pointed it at the grizzly closest to you “Don’t” he eyed you and you groaned “You’re going to, aren’t you?”

The other went for Hailey and three decided to go for Jay. You fired a shot at your grizzly and cursed when it didn’t go through his chest. Of course the asshole selling armor piercing rounds would have good armor. You ducked his meaty punch and aimed for his neck. It hit and blood bubbled out so you spun towards Hailey in enough time to see her get a shot off towards her grizzly. The man went down, hard.

Cops were swarming the building. Jay was holding his own against his three but wasn’t like you could shoot. “Fuck” you cursed and glanced around, spotting pieces of pipe and nodded to them “Hailey!” you both grabbed a piece and smashed one of the grizzlies behind his knees. He went down and that was enough to even things out for Jay. When he put the other two down you three realized in the meantime Phillip and Erin had run.

“They’re running” cut through the coms so all three of you ran towards the exit. Once you hit the door you saw they’d taken separate roots. You ran right, hearing Hailey behind you. Jay started to go left then heard “I got Phillip, go behind Kidd and Upton” from Kevin.

___________________

Jay turned to run in the direction you and Hailey had run and the moment he came around the corner he saw you and her both being dragged into suvs, shock sticks being held to your necks and your bodies convulsing from the electricity. “CPD FREEZE” he hollered but they threw your limp bodies in the suv and fired towards him, forcing him to duck.

He rolled to his feet and barely saw the plates FDE245 as they squealed away with you and Hailey inside. “WE HAVE TWO KIDNAPPED DETECTIVES” he called across the coms, feeling his world fall down around his feet. He’d let down the two women that meant the most to him, the mother of his child and the woman he loved.

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@courty-courtz00

#greg mouse gerwitz x reader #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #greg gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz x reader #greggerwitz x reader #broken bonds masterlist

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ladysharmaa · 3 days ago

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Wild Hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Evelyn had taken the news that she and Jasper were mates surprisingly well. However, she had asked the vampire to take it slow and not to rush things. Jasper had accepted without a second thought; all he wanted was for Evelyn to be happy. He would wait hundreds of years for her if need be.

But the two had grown much closer. They exchanged small, innocent touches, were always glued together when they were together, and none of this went unnoticed by the rest of the school. The girls looked at Evelyn with envy, both for having caught Jasper's attention and for her mythical beauty, while the boys glared at Jasper with anger. The vampire was quick to return the glare and pull the dark blonde closer to him.

Evelyn had also spent more time at the Cullens' house. Jasper invited her over every day, and although he said it was because he always missed her, she knew that one of the reasons was also because he didn't like the conditions of her house. But she really liked her place, since it was the first time she lived alone. Always living in the demigod camp, she had to share her cabin with six other daughters of Aphrodite. Although they were very close friends, arguments always ended up happening.

Something else had also changed in Forks. Apparently they were going to receive a new student, Chief Swan's daughter. Once the man gave her a ride, he told her how happy he was to have his daughter living with him again after so many years apart.

That morning, it was Jasper who picked her up at home so they could go to school together. She was just putting on her boots when the doorbell rang.

"The door is open!" she shouted to the person on the other side, who she knew was Jasper as she heard his car pull up.

"Darling, how many times do I have to tell you to lock the door?" the vampire sighed and scratched the tip of his nose in exasperation. "It's dangerous, someone might come in."

"I knew it was you." She rolled her eyes at Jasper's protectiveness.

He saw her pull on her coat and point to the door, indicating that they should go. However, the boy motioned with his fingers for her to come closer to him. When she did, Jasper pulled her coat up tight, and grabbed a scarf from the coat rack and wrapped it around Evelyn's neck, making sure she was warm.

"We need to get you more warm clothes. Your cheeks are still rosy right now." he teased, seeing the demigod's gaze locked on him.

Their faces were extremely close, and Evelyn could feel herself blushing even more. Her eyes flicked down to Jasper's lips, which were forming a smirk, and back up to his eyes again.

She cleared her throat. "Must be the cold. We should go to school. And wipe that proud smile of your face."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

When they arrived at school, everyone was talking about Bella Swan. Evelyn hadn't had the chance to meet her yet, but she made a point of introducing herself. Charlie had talked about Bella so much that Evelyn felt like she already knew her.

After a tiring morning, where Evelyn luckily had a few classes with Jasper and Rosalie, she and the Cullen family headed to the cafeteria. Alice was telling her about a new one that had opened in Seattle, while Lucas complained to Jasper about Evelyn stealing Alice's attention from him.

The blond vampire just laughed and put an arm around Evelyn's waist. Lucas took the opportunity to pull the little vampire towards him and make her spin a little as they entered the cafeteria, where the other students of the school were already gathered.

At a table, Evelyn saw her friends with the famous Bella. From Jessica's position, all leaning forward, she knew they were in gossip mode.

"Who are they?" Bella questioned, watching the Cullens walk with an inhuman grace, their skin as pale as chalk and their eyes as amber. Beside them, a girl who was not so pale, with a healthy brown skin, eyes as clear as the sky and who had a natural beauty that made all the heads present turn to her.

"The Cullens." Angela answered. "And that's Evelyn, she's our friend."

"Yes, she moved here at the beginning of the year. She's very nice, you'll like her." Jessica continued. "But she attracted the attention of the Cullens, and since then she's glued to Jasper, the boy who's been sending glares to everyone who dares to look at Eve."

"Don't be like that, Jess. Eve is friends with them, but she always makes time for us. Just yesterday we all went out together." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, they're Doctor and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago. They're all together. Like, together together. The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're a thing. I'm not even sure if that's legal."

"I don't know how you get along with those people, Evie." Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"What are they saying now?" Evelyn sighed, grabbing Jasper's arm affectionately. As much as she adored Jessica, she had a tendency to get too involved in other people's lives.

"The little dark-haired girl, Alice, she's really weird." Jessica continued, pointing at the vampire. "She's with Lucas. They're very different, he seems to be more shy while Alice is outgoing. Then, you have Jasper and Evelyn. They're kind of the hottest couple, even though Eve tells us several times that they're not dating."

"Yet." Angela giggled.

"Yup, I give it like two weeks. Everyone is so jealous of them." she said, watching them pass by their table. Evelyn stood on her tiptoes, and gave Jasper a light kiss on the cheek, leaving him to go to the Cullens, who sat at the farthest table while Evelyn sat with her friends.

"Let me guess, you guys are gossiping." Evelyn interrupted their conversation, sitting down next to Bella.

"Obviously." Jessica nodded amused.

"Hi, I'm Evelyn. And you must be Bella?"

"Yes, it's nice to meet you." The girl stammered a little.

She had realized why she had captured everyone's attention. Her face seemed to have been carefully constructed, her lips were full and pink, and her eyes a very clear blue. In addition, she seemed to always have a smile on her face. Bella couldn't find a single flaw.

Evelyn smiled, Bella and her father were both socially awkward. "Nice to meet you too. Your dad talks a lot about you."

"You know Charlie?" Bella questioned.

Evelyn found it a little strange that the girl called her father by his name, but she decided to ignore it. "Yes, he gives me a ride every now and then so I don't have to walk to school."

However, Bella's attention was already focused on the last Cullen to arrive in the cafeteria. Edward Cullen walked confidently, he had bronze colored hair and an air of mystery that only captured Bella's attention more. "Who's that?"

"That's Edward Cullen." Jessica murmured. Edward walked past their table, leaving a kiss on Evelyn's head, and as soon as he started walking away Jessica and Angela broke down in giggles. However, when he glanced at Bella over his shoulder, he seemed confused about something.

"Eve, you are so lucky." Angela groaned, dropping her head on the table.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." Jessica feigned disinterest. "They only care about Eve here. So, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." Bella shook her head, but her gaze remained fixed on the boy.

Evelyn stared at the two with wide eyes. From the Cullen table, Jasper motioned for her to come over to them. The daughter of Aphrodite nodded, realizing they had something to say to her. "Sorry, girls, I'm just going to see a Jasper before we have to go to class."

"Young love, so beautiful." Jessica teased, Evelyn playfully tossed her a napkin and grabbed her things before heading to the other table.

"What is it?" she asked as she sat down next to Jasper, who immediately pulled her chair closer to his.

"Bella, the new girl, she's Edward's blood singer. And apparently he can't hear her thoughts."

"Like how you can't hear mine?"

"No." Edward shook his head thoughtfully. "It's different. I don't get static on her mind. I can't hear anything at all. It's silent."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

That same day, Evelyn had to go to work at the dinner, being dropped off by Jasper who promised to pick her up as well. Even though he told her that she didn't have to work anymore, Evelyn refused. There was no way she would depend on Jasper, whether they were mates or not.

So, she got ready for her shift. She was cleaning a table when Charlie and Bella Swan entered the dinner, their presence being announced by the bell on the door.

"Charlie, Bella! How are you? Come, you can sit on this table and I'll bring you the menu." Evelyn greeted, leading them to a table in the corner of the dinner, where they could chat freely.

"Hey, Eve. Have you guys met at school today?"

Bella nodded, letting an awkward silence settle in. Before it could get worse, Evelyn brought the menus, and let them choose. Until the end of her shift, she only had the opportunity to say goodbye to the father-daughter duo, as the other waitress took over their table. Everyone in the town was very happy to see Bella with Chief Swan, and they all wanted to see if she remembered them. Of course, the girl had no idea who they were, which only made her more embarrassed.

When she left the establishment, Jasper was already waiting for her patiently. His serious look changed to one of adoration when he saw Evelyn walking towards him.

"Hello, darling. Did your shift go well? Did anyone give you any trouble?" Now that he knew why Evelyn was bringing so much attention, Jasper had become very protective of her. Even though he knew she could defend herself.

"Everything went really well. How is Edward?" she asked, getting into the car when Jasper opened the door for her.

"He's going to Alaska for a while, to the Denalis, who are friends of ours." Jasper explained, making sure to turn the car's heater up to full blast. "The smell of Bella's blood is too tempting and he's afraid of losing control. Rosalie isn't happy."

"Seems like Rose." she chuckled, lifting an arm and running her hand over Jasper's cheek in a caress. The vampire smiled, and turned his face slightly, but never taking his eyes off the road, to kiss the palm of her hand.

"Are you sleeping over tonight? It's really cold today, Emmett and Lucas are in charge of taking care of the fire. I think you'll give us the chance to use the fireplace for the first time." Jasper asked. "Please."

"Fine. But you can't let those two paint things on my face while I sleep. Last time it took half an hour for the paint to come off."

"Sure thing, Lyn."

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #rosalie hale #twilight x reader #twilight #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x oc #jasper hale x y/n #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight saga #cullen x reader

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lillaydee · 2 days ago

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Head Over Heels Part 6

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11 @liciafonseca @senoratess @denisanoemi @lovefreylove @heartpatch

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

---

Ellie waited for about an hour outside your studio before giving up that day. She came back the day after and waited 30 minutes longer than the day before. She never waited longer than two hours, Joel would lose his mind if she wasn’t home by curfew. But she kept waiting, day in and day out, hoping you would even glance at her. You didn’t.

You didn’t want to be petty, but fuck, you’d discovered that you definitely were petty. PETTY. So petty you started having fun watching her stand around hoping you’d open the door and invite her in.

But then, after a week, you just felt cruel. Yet, you were not ready to give in, so you just went in and out of your studio via the library door.

You were just settling in bed one night, feeling a bit light-hearted since you didn’t see Ellie out your window that day, when you heard a scratch on the door leading to the library.

Shit, what was that? A rat? A ghost?

Took you a while to gather up the courage to go to the door. But when the scratch turned into a knock, you pursed your lips together and yanked it open, a sorry looking teenager falling onto her back as you did. She had followed you home from work one day and discovered the door from the library. The cheeky bugger had hidden herself somewhere in the library until Ike left and ambushed you.

You couldn’t help yourself and laughed out loud.

She got up, standing in the dark doorway, waiting for you to grant her access.

You jerked your head inwards, and she released a heavy sigh of relief before stepping inside. You walked across the room to switch the light on, but she begged you not to chase her away. She thought you were going to open the other door and make her leave.

You switched the light on and asked her to take a seat on your bed.

She smiled a teary smile and did as you asked.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at her, waiting for her to explain herself.

She twisted her hands together, finally taking a deep breath.

“Elena, am I the reason you moved out?”

You didn’t answer. Just cocked your head to the side a little, your eyebrows raised, your lips pursed together as if to say what do you think? She nodded, looking down at the floor.

“I’m sorry I said those things, Elena. I don’t mean them. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why did you say them?”

She shrugged. Her lips began to tremble, “I’m so sorry Elena, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did, Ellie.”

She nodded, sobbing a little now, and damn it, the stupid gender-related instinct in you lost and you went over and hugged her. She clung on to you, apologizing over and over again. I know, you said, kissing the top of her head, I know.

She explained herself when she had calmed down a little, telling you everything that was going on in her head, how Maria chastised her for hurting you, the words ‘I’m sorry’ repeated like a broken record. You made a mental note to bake Maria something as a thank you.

She knew you wouldn’t forgive her just like that, she said, but she’s willing to work for your forgiveness. She’ll do anything, she said. Please, Elena, she said. I’m sorry.

“That’ll do for now,” you said, “But you have to work hard to earn my forgiveness Ellie. I’m not an angel. I have feelings. Anger. Sadness. Pettiness.”

She laughed a little at your last statement, nodding, asking you if she could stay with you that night. Joel was out on night patrol. Of course, you said. The two of you spent the night talking, and you had to assure her she was not the sole reason you moved out. She finally asked you if she could ask you something. Sure, you said, anything.

“Bill and Frank, the guys you lived with, were they a couple? Like a romantic couple?”

You nodded.

“What’s that like? Loving someone of the same sex? Romantic love, I mean. Not like you love Maria or Liv or Diana.”

You shrugged, “It’s the same as loving someone of the opposite sex, I guess. It’s love, Ellie.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong? To choose to be in love with someone of the same sex?”

You laughed a bit, “Loving someone is not a choice, Ellie. You don’t choose to love someone. Not romantically, at least. That’s why you fall in love. Who you fall in love with is not something you consciously do. You fall in love because you do. Who they are, what sex they are, it doesn’t matter. You don’t choose Ellie. It just happens.”

“What if people hate you for it?”

“Then… I feel sorry for them for not having enough love in their life to not understand love is not a choice.”

She went quiet for a while.

“If I fall in love with a girl, would you hate me?”

“Why would I? If you’re in love, you’re happy, so I’ll be happy for you.”

“You don’t want to ask me who I’m talking about?”

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

She nodded. She looked contemplative for a while.

“But I can choose to love a boy instead, can’t I? It’ll be much easier.”

“Oh, honey, if who you fall in love with was a choice, I would choose different,” you told her, smoothing her hair out. “Believe me, my life would be so much better.”

She contemplated her next words very, very carefully.

“Joel?”

You didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what you think of him exactly, Elena, but I know you’re wrong. You should give him a chance. He’s just… complicated.”

“Unlike being in love, being complicated is a choice,” you told her. “Just like choosing to hurt people with your words.”

She nodded, telling you she was sorry again, and you hugged her to sleep that night.

It’ll be a process, you had told her, but you knew in your heart you had already forgiven her.

**********

You sat in one corner of the dining hall having lunch with the girls, the kitchen feeling a bit stuffy that day. You had been cooped up in there since five this morning, after spending the entire night there with Diana, making pasta. You needed to get out. Maria had come to you with an extra sack of flour from Ricky, the guy who came by every other month to barter his findings with the townsfolk, asking if the hall could indulge him by making pasta for him to keep that day. He milled the flour himself, the last of the season’s from his small farm. His wife had passed from illness a few months prior, and she used to make them for trade.

There was enough pasta left over for two trays of it when Ricky had taken his cut, and the tomatoes Liv planted were particularly juicy that week, so you decided to make some pasta for lunch, while the rest of the kitchen staff focused on garlic bread and salad.

You sat there as Maria rubbed your back, and Liv, Diana’s, the rolling and kneading the night before taking a toll on the two of you. You saw Joel, Ellie and Tommy walk in together, taking a helping of pasta and the sides, sitting down together, chit chatting before taking a bite of the pasta.

You saw Joel’s demeanour change. He stared at the simple pasta you made and began shovelling huge forkfuls into his mouth, his eyes closing, his free hand fisted on the table, head tilted back a little, very obviously enjoying the meal.

Something inside you recognized something that day. He had that pasta before.

Sometimes, when Bill was in one of his moods during Tess and Joel’s visits, he would refuse to cook for them, choosing instead to watch them from the upstairs window of your house. He would leave telling you and Frank about this decision of his to the last minute, so the quickest thing you could normally whip up was pasta. Joel would take a few helpings of them every time you served them, and sometimes, Frank would put some into Tupperware containers for him to take home.

You always figured he was another starving man who had just walked for hours to get there. Anything was good when you were hungry and tired.

You saw him say something to Ellie, who got up and ran out. She came back after a little while, two Tupperware containers in her hands, asking one of the kitchen staff to put some in there for her to take home. Joel got up and went to get himself a second helping. It was only then a thought entered your head.

But your thoughts got interrupted.

“Oh, he likes pasta,” you heard Vanessa coo from the table next to yours.

Your jaws clenched as she made plans to get groceries from the grocery store after lunch, pasta, basil and tomatoes among them.

You made sure he didn’t see you and slipped out to go home.

**********

You had the day off that next day. You were spending the day helping Ike catalogue a box of new books for the school – one of the patrol teams found some, miraculously in good shape. Lucy came to send him his lunch, and asked if you could help her grandson Luke at the chicken coop for a few hours. The kind lady in charge he normally worked with was out with the flu, her husband was on patrol and the other lady who helped them had a sick child, and the poor boy, having just turned 12, was rather overwhelmed, scared of picking eggs since he got pecked a few weeks ago. You didn’t need coaxing – you needed to pick up the eggs for stock and distribution at the hall anyway.

Luke was a sweet boy, hardworking, polite, a testament to his grandparents who had raised him since he was only eight. His parents had gone out on patrol one day and never came back, leaving poor Luke an orphan overnight. Thank God for Ike and Lucy.

That day, he swept the coop while you fed the chickens, deciding to leave the egg picking for last. He had asked you to help him ‘get brave’ again, he wanted to keep working there, and he was worried that India, his boss, would ‘fire’ him. Ike liked an egg or two with his breakfast, and Luke was worried he had to go without if he was ever fired. You made a mental note to tell Ike and Lucy of his worries, the poor boy unaware that the eggs were distributed to everyone daily; India only gave him extras as payment for a job well done.

So after the daily chores were done, you coaxed Luke to the back of the coop where the chickens usually lay their eggs, opening the lowered roof to the area to collect them. Just your luck, the chickens were too busy elsewhere to bother the two of you that day, and you held the basket while Luke collected the eggs, gently placing them in the four massive baskets you had with you.

The small squeak of the chicken coop gate drew your attention. Luke pulled you down to hide, as he was taught since infancy, in case of an attack. You indulged him, peeking through the chicken wires to see who it was.

Joel Miller.

“He comes here a few days a week, checking the chicken wires. He replaced them when you guys first got here,” Luke whispered. “Watch, he always does this,” he said, as Joel looked around, checking no one was looking, before taking a familiar looking Tupperware container, one you had seen him receive from and return to a certain besotted married lady, hidden under his jacket, opening it, and hastily emptying the pasta inside into the chicken feed. He then hid the Tupperware again before pulling absent mindedly at different parts of the chicken wire, his head swivelling around the way it would when he’s surveying his surroundings, leaving right away, closing the gate behind him.

“He’s been doing that for weeks,” Luke told you. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just eat them,” he said. “India said maybe the food is bad, the chickens don’t really eat them. I have to sweep them away the next day.”

You don’t know why, but as you watched the chickens peck around the discarded pasta, you felt very, very happy.

**********

Maria didn’t want a usual baby shower. It wasn’t as if the girls could go shopping anyway. She was getting hand-me-downs from the women in town, baby clothes, bottles, the likes. Instead, she wanted a nice, ladies only, fancy tea party.

You groaned out loud at the thought.

It meant you had to dress up.

Shit.

You told the girls you might just stay in the kitchen… you didn’t own a dress… you didn’t want to spoil the aesthetic of the evening. Maria was legitimately talking about wearing a fascinator. You had to look up the meaning in a dictionary. But the girls just told you they would take you ‘shopping’. You were not getting out of this, lady!

Oh, dear God.

You grew up a tomboy. With two very, very typical ‘manly men’ big brothers whose idea of fun was practicing their wrestling moves against each other on you. Your Mama gave up on telling them to stop just about the time Benny decided to climb on a cupboard and perform a diving crossbody onto you who he had instructed to lay still on the mattress. You remembered that day clearly. She was screaming, eyes scrunched shut, thinking this was it, her baby girl was gonna die cause her brothers saw her as a practice dummy. But you had the mind to roll away as he jumped off, causing him to dislocate his shoulder.

It was the day your Mama found out she didn’t have to worry about you too much, even if it meant she had to take her youngest boy to the ER. Oddly enough, neither Will nor Benny ever tried that move on you again.

On the days you had to put on your Sunday best, you never wore a dress. When Frank found a gorgeous dress at the boutique and told you to have your first picks before storing the rest away for barter, you blinked at him for a good ten minutes while Bill, who had known you all of your life, roared with laughter at the idea of you wearing a dress, to the point where he couldn’t breathe properly. Frank gave up after that, though he did suggest that you might look good in one every once in a while if you gave it a chance.

So two days before the tea party, the girls dragged you to the warehouse, announcing to the ladies working at the clothes ‘department’ they needed to pull out the perfect dress for you. Ellie was there, being on warehouse rotation that week as her after school activity. She laughed along with the ladies at your mortification when several supremely girly dresses were presented to you for the occasion. She laughed so hard, you had a lightbulb moment.

“Hey Ellie, remember when I said you need to work for my forgiveness?”

She stopped laughing, but her face morphed into one of excitement at your question. She nodded enthusiastically.

“You wear a dress to the party, make up, hair done, the works, and we call it even.”

Ellie froze at your words.

Well, well, well… who’s mortified now?

She looked stunned for a while, before turning to her friend Cat, asking her to take her ‘shopping’. Cat looked elated, pulling the teenager’s hand into a corner where the dresses for girls their age were.

Wow. She must really want your forgiveness.

But… that meant you needed to hold up your end of the bargain too. You took a deep breath and tried on the dresses, before choosing one and going home to wash it before the big party.

The day of the party came. You went to Liv and Diana’s to get ready, and they helped you get dressed, plastered some 20-year-old make up on your face, and styled your hair a bit. You felt like a ridiculous mannequin. There was too much breeze going up your legs. The dress was flowy, but the brisk summer night’s breeze was making them cling to your figure as you walked towards Maria’s. You went to Joel and Ellie’s first, having promised her you would pick her up – you two non-girly girls would face the shame of being seen in dresses for the first time together. Ride or die.

You didn’t need to knock, Ellie came rushing to open the door as soon as she heard your footsteps on the porch. She had her bathrobe on, but her hair was all styled up in some sort of a braided look, her eyes lined with eyeliners, and her lips with some really dark lipstick.

Cat and Dina were there, getting ready with her. They whistled when the saw you, grinning like Chesire cats at your grumpy face. They looked very pretty with their dresses on.

Ellie finally took her bathrobe off, standing there awkwardly, waiting for your approval. She had on a black dress, giving the whole emo look a new definition post outbreak.

“I saw those movies – the Addam’s family. I thought I could be Wednesday Addams for the night,” she said, sulking a little as you lost your composure and started looking like the darned cat yourself. When your shoulders started shaking from trying not to laugh, she laughed too. “Am I forgiven now, or what?”

You hugged her. She hung on to you, tight. “You look really pretty, Ellie,” you told her. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re the only person I would ever wear a dress for, just so you know. Love you Elena,” she added, hugging you again.

“Love you too, BabyGirl.”

She looked up at you, delicate tears in her eyes, smiling, before hugging you again.

The door to the basement opened, and Joel came up, carrying parts of a crib into the kitchen. He had been working on it over the last couple of weeks, Ellie told you. It was his gift to the parents to be. He laid the parts on the kitchen island and shut the door, turning around to get the parts back to assemble when he spotted Ellie.

The teenager’s cheeks turned pink as her father figure saw her in a dress for the first time. He looked impressed, but trying to hold in a laughter at the same time.

“If you laugh, I will smother you with a pillow in your sleep, old man,” she said before he could let out the laugh. He immediately straightened his face, reducing the smirk into a smile, telling her she looked nice, giving her a side hug.

When he noticed you, though, the smile disappeared.

If Joel was trying to hide the fact that he was ogling you, he failed. Miserably so. He couldn’t even close his mouth, his eyes giving you a once over from head to toe. You found yourself feeling a lot warmer than you had ever felt in your life, looking for anywhere else to look but at him, pulling the shawl you had brought around your shoulders, as if it would lessen the warmth you were feeling, wishing you could disappear.

If he laughed at you…

“Doesn’t she look nice, Joel?” Dina said, a sly smirk on her face. Cat and Ellie had to turn away to hide their smiles.

Joel looked as if he had just realized the girls were there. His hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes averted, mumbling to himself before finally saying something to you.

“You… erm… you look… *clears throat* very good. Erm… very nice,” he blubbered, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, come on Joel, she looks hot as fuck!” Ellie said.

“Language!” you and Joel chorused. Ellie rolled her eyes and went to open the door, beckoning to Cat and Dina to join her. You held the door open, waited for a flustered looking Joel to pick up the parts for the crib and went out the door before closing the door behind him, walking across the street as fast as you could, holding Maria’s door open for him to place the disassembled crib in the living room.

He chanced a glance or two at you before moving back to the door. As you made to close the door behind him, he turned and held the door from being shut.

“You really do, you know. Look hot… erm… beautiful… you look… really beautiful,” he managed to get out, eyes on the wooden dice necklace with your name carved into them around your neck.

God, Joel. Don’t hurt yourself trying to fake a compliment. You gave him a half-hearted smile and made to close the door again. He held the door still.

“I’ll, erm… I’ll see you back home?” he said, eyes shooting up to yours for a moment before looking at your bracelet, the one similar to your necklace. “Have fun tonight,” he said, before pulling the door shut.

Sheesh. Still had no clue you no longer lived there. Pfft. What a jerk.

It was only then that you noticed how quiet the house was, despite it being full of very nicely dressed, very chatty ladies. They were all staring at you, a teasing smile on their faces. Maria, Ellie, Liv and Diana looked as if Christmas just got there months early. Tommy just looked like he had a hanger stuck in his mouth.

For whatever reason, everyone looked super happy and excited to see you.

Everyone except Vanessa and Esther. Those two looked like you just killed their puppies. Vanessa huffed, put her drink down and rushed out. Esther turned away from you, muttering under her breath.

Tommy came to take the disassembled crib into the freshly painted nursery. He and Joel were going to get together the next day to assemble it, he told you as you helped him carry one piece upstairs.

“You and Joel… you’re talking again?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“You don’t have to worry, I didn’t tell him anything. Maria had to tell me, cause I suggested giving the studio to Jesse. He’s living alone in a four bedroom, you know, we could use the house should a family come in.”

You nodded. You didn’t know how to feel about him knowing you moved out, about him not telling Joel. One part of you was deeply hurt he still hadn’t noticed. But another part of you was definitely relieved. You turned to rejoin the party.

“Joel… he’s complicated,” Tommy offered. “He doesn’t hate you, Elena. Please know that. He’s just… I don’t know. But he doesn’t hate you. Just… give him time. He’ll come around.”

You gave him a smile, nodded a little and left.

What the fuck did that mean? Even when ‘complimenting’ you the man could hardly look you in the eyes. How the fuck else were you supposed to decipher that other than hatred?

You got downstairs and joined in on the merriment. You had to admit, you had a great time, although you did have to stop Ellie from taking her dress off in favour of the jeans and shirt she had managed to smuggle in. You watched as Maria opened packages with used items in them, tearfully thanking whoever they were from, despite knowing they were handed down to them in the first place. You kept thinking how different your life now was compared to a year ago, and how different this party was than it would’ve been if the world hadn’t gone to seed.

You were putting more sandwiches on the serving platter in the kitchen when Esther came in. She leaned on the counter, eyeing you as you did your task. You shot her a quick smile, asking her if she could pass the crackers that were just behind her.

As she did, she didn’t let go.

“Why is he so obsessed with you, huh?”

“Who?” you asked, puzzled.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. No single men in town has ever managed to resist me, save for Joel Miller. So what gives?”

You laughed disbelievingly. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Esther. But if he doesn’t want you, I have nothing to do with it. The man hates me,” you said, pulling the container of home made crackers from her hands, opening it and placing some on the platter.

She grabbed your hand instead, “Don’t play dumb with me, Elena. You have the man in a chokehold, and all I want to know is, how are you doing this when I’ve never seen you give him an ounce of attention.”

“Really, Esther, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, pulling your hand away from her. The bracelet snagged, and the dices with the alphabets to your name carved onto them clattered to the wooden floor.

Your heart went cold. Tears began to fill your eyes. Tess gave you that bracelet. Liv and Diana came in, asking you what was taking so long with the refill, only to panic seeing your emotional state, kneeling on the floor, searching for the dices, desperately trying to find them all to put back together. You could, right? You could find a string, or a piece of wire to string them back together?

Esther huffed out of there as soon as Diana gave her one of her dirty looks, the two sisters helping you look for the dices. But you had found them all. All seven pieces of the five dices, one of the Es and the A cloven into two from the wear and tear and impact from the fall.

You sat there, tears in your eyes, and suddenly the memory of Tess’s extremely delighted face as you put the bracelet on for the first time came flooding to your mind. This was not the first bracelet she gave you, there were three others, all simpler than this, but they had been damaged by time or wear, or in the case of the last one, an infected. She replaced them each time.

What you wouldn’t do to have her replace this one now.

**********

Joel sat on the couch facing the front door. It was almost 11, Tommy had come and gone. He was waiting for you and Ellie to come home. It was not often he had the time to sit around waiting like this. He was always either on patrol, or off fixing something, or down in the basement working on something or other; the crib, for the past two weeks.

He was nervous. Seeing you all dressed up like that fucked up with him big time. All his resolve, all his justifications for staying away from you disappeared, just like that. Tommy kept telling him someone was going to snatch you away one day, and he would regret acting the way he did. But he had always gone to his number one defence – denial. Why the hell not? He’s great at it. Been at it for 15 years. There was always a reason to extend the denial. Many, in fact. And being in an uncertain world, being on the road, among other things, were great rationalizations, he felt.

He's settled now, though. Took him a while to realize that, to feel completely safe, but he was. And he felt ready to maybe open up a bit. To you. Tell you things. Tommy knew, of course, and maybe Maria. Ellie, possibly, he didn’t really remember how much he told Ellie when he did. His mind was too clouded by the bottle of whiskey she had found for him to remember.

What he knew was, no one who knew had told you. If they did, you hadn’t cared enough to react to it. So, as he sat there, waiting for you to walk in through that door, he coaxed his thundering heart to be brave enough to ask you if you knew. He’s gonna start there. If you did, he’ll ask if you felt the same way, although to be perfectly honest, he’s probably not gonna want to know the answer. If you knew and did nothing, that was his answer right there.

But if you didn’t, he was going to tell you. Tonight. He was gonna tell you tonight.

He felt as if he was hot and cold and hot again all at the same time. He squirmed in his seat, feeling the butterflies in his stomach, feeling like he wanted to pee at all times, a cold breeze creeping up his back as he sat there listening to the goodbyes from across the street and the sounds of the ladies leaving for their respective homes.

Someone finally stepped on the porch, and Joel stood, hands nervously placed in his pockets. His stiff shoulders slumped when Ellie came in, tearing the black ribbons holding her hair in place as she shut the door behind her.

“Where’s Elena?”

“She’s helping Maria clean up.”

“She say what time she’ll be home?”

Ellie stood there, looking at him with frustration.

“Dude, she moved out like seven weeks ago. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

What? No. No you didn’t.

He ran upstairs and burst into your room, immediately clocking in the dusty floor and the open, empty closet. His body went cold. His head frozen.

He ran across the road, opening the front door without knocking, startling you and Diana who were picking up the last of the cups in the living room.

“You moved out?”

His eyes were on yours. Fixed on yours.

So, this was what it felt like to have Joel Miller look at you.

In that one minute of complete silence, you felt seen. He saw you. And you, him.

You had wanted this for 15 years. For Joel Miller to look you in the eyes and noticed you. And yet, here you stood, not knowing what to say to him, choosing instead to look at your own feet.

Your eyes found a compromise and you stared at the broken watch he wore instead of his eyes and nodded.

“Why?”

God, you were seething. Why? Was he serious? Was he really asking you why?

Why?

“Elena, what’s going on?” Maria’s voice interrupted you.

Before you could answer, a splashing sound disrupted the uncomfortable silence, and Maria looked at her feet in shock, before looking back up at you.

You, Diana and Joel stared at the puddle around her feet.

“Shit, I peed myself,” she said.

“No Maria, your water just broke. You’re in labour.”

---

Part 7

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #Jackson!Joel

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tiny-maus-boots · 1 day ago

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A/N: i know its been so long! I'm sorry! I hope anyone still is waiting enjoys! Also as always thank you thank you thank you to @chloes-yellow-cup and @kimmania for always encouraging the wording. I love you awesome nerds.

Beca

“Now I've never played dress up before but I'm pretty sure it actually involves putting on clothes at some point…”

Not that she was complaining at all. Beca was firmly of the belief that a no clothes rule should definitely be enforced. Chloe trailed a fingertip down her spine as she circled around the necromancer. It made Beca’s knees weak and she had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound that would likely embarrass herself for all eternity.

Which could potentially be a thing when dealing with vampires. She wasn't yet sure how that worked exactly. She knew something was different about her now. And she wanted a second to process and explore the newness but what with the trauma, and the drama and the imminent doom, and all the sexy times it just didn't fit into her busy schedule.

“Just trying to decide what would look best on you.”

“Considering everything you pick out ends up on the floor I'm thinking you might not be the best judge.”

“It’s not my fault you look best naked in our bed, Beca.”

There it was again. Our. Beca tried to fight the smile that crept across her face but gave up when the cool length of Chloe’s body pressed against her back and arms wrapped around her.

“This is different when you're not using me to bait Aubrey into feeding.”

Chloe hesitated a moment before she dipped her head to brush a soft kiss over her bite mark. The brunette’s knees finally gave out on her and she probably would have collapsed into a puddle of Beca on the floor had Chloe's arms not been wrapped so securely around her.

“I can never express how deeply I regret the way that played out. I hadn't ever meant for her to feed on you, I just needed her to wake up and save you. Save all of us.”

“It’s okay, I don't mind taking one for the team on this. It was the right thing to do. Plus…I kinda liked it. Which makes me question all kinds of things about myself now so that's fun times to unpack.”

Chloe’s eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement and Beca had to blink past the heart eyes she knew she was giving. She cleared her throat and pointedly kept the vampire’s hands from roaming. If she let Chloe get handsy now Beca would happily let the world burn around them.

Chloe pouted at not being allowed to explore Beca’s lithe body. ”You’re no fun.”

”I’m fun. I can be lots of fun. I can fun your ass off. But also we kinda sorta have a rebellion to execute and an ancient vampire to heal. It’s the pits but on the other hand freedom is pretty amazing.”

”Chloe…are you certain this is in fashion? I know things have changed but this seems an obscene amount of exposed flesh.”

”I’m standing here almost naked and she’s the one complaining about being exposed?”

Chloe chuckled softly in her ear which helped her hormonal issue be exactly zero percent better. Beca lightly slapped at the vampire’s grip and extricated herself entirely so she could sift through the pile of discards for something she liked.

“Let’s see it Aubrey.”

”If you’re sure…”

They both turned as Aubrey stepped out of the closet in a dark red deep V halter dress that was slit to the hip on each side. She was bare from neck to navel and hip to ankle. Whatever article of clothing Beca had been holding fell from her suddenly numb fingers.

”Boobalas…” Beca’s eyes zeroed in on said target instinctively.

Aubrey looked down and covered her chest with her hands in an attempt at modesty. Chloe’s fangs lengthened and she stepped forward to gently tug blonde’s hands down.

”Oh I’m very sure about you in this dress. But you should take it off. For comparison reasons.”

Aubrey gave the redhead an exasperated look and turned toward the full length mirror with a critical eye. She turned back with a slight flourish and nervously fussed with the gauzy front panel of the dress.

“What do you think, Beca? Should I change?”

”I love leg.” Truthfully she loved everything Aubrey was showing off. “Chloe’s right, you should take it off and we should get in bed. Doesn’t have to be in that order of events.”

”You two…thank you. But we have work to do.” She let her own gaze drift over Beca’s mostly naked body and smirked. “I like your outfit.”

”Yeah I’m really rocking the wanton hussy sex slave vibe. But I still fail to see how this will help us in any way.”

Chloe held out a pair of tight low slung leather pants and a matching vest for her. Beca hummed a soft approving noise and held the pants up to her waist. They were more her style than anything else she had tried previously and she wondered how long Chloe had that outfit in mind for her despite making her try on everything else.

“Did you save these for last so you could watch me undressing?”

Chloe gave her an impish grin and shrugged innocently.

“It’s important because everything we do, say, and even wear means something. Aubrey isn’t dressed in fighting leathers, her heart is exposed. This says she either trusts the company she is in or she doesn’t view them as a threat. It will be the same with you exposing your neck and arms. I too will wear something revealing by vampire standards to show solidarity and unity with you both.”

”So it’s a power play?”

”Partially. Also it’s just hot. Very very hot.”

”So what are you wearing?”

”You’ll see.”

It intrigued Beca and she made a small sound of interest when Chloe ducked into the closet to change.

“Okay then. So question, what do we do if the Great Clans don’t want to join our Country Jamboree?”

Aubrey looked helplessly at the pile of makeup on Chloe’s vanity. She picked up a jar and sniffed tentatively at the contents before pushing it aside and picking up something else.

“Face paints have come a long way, I hardly know where to begin.”

“Yeah they no longer contain lead, wild concept, right?”

Beca smiled softly at the scene before moving closer to help. She had difficulty remembering that the vampire was still learning to adapt to modern times when she seemed so confident about who she was. But times like these, where she was unsure and vulnerable…they hit Beca right in the feels.

”Don’t worry. I got’chu, Horny.”

It was oddly intimate, applying makeup on Aubrey. It made it hard not to lean forward and kiss her and keep kissing her. Which would completely undo the work she was trying to do. Luckily Aubrey picked up the conversation as she sat patiently for Beca.

”In answer to your question, I don’t think it will come to that. They come here in search of their queen. They will follow you where you lead.”

Beca paused in the process of applying. She knew they were coming here to defend and protect her but it didn’t seem real. So much of her life had been solitary and not by choice. And now people she never met were riding to her rescue. What if some of them had doubts? What if some of them were as scared of her as the vampires were?

”Yeah…but what if they don’t?”

”It doesn’t matter if they don’t. I will follow you, Beca.”

Having the support of the queen of the vampires. What an insane thought. Beca put down the lip liner slowly and gently bumped foreheads with Aubrey.

”As will I and the rest of the free vampire nation.”

Beca and Aubrey turned at the sound of Chloe’s voice and froze. Chloe looked ethereal in a strapless deep blue gown of layered gauze embroidered with a delicate pattern of silver vines. She looked like an actual princess and Beca was robbed of the ability to speak.

”Well?”

”Wow…”

”Is that a good wow or a bad wow?”

“That’s a you look amazing wow. You look like a princess.”

Aubrey was too silent and Beca glanced at her trying to gauge her reaction to Chloe’s dress. Chloe smoothed the front of her dress nervously at the blonde's lack of response.

“You're starting to worry me, Bree. Is…is my dress not…”

“It’s perfect. You Chloe, are perfect. In every way.”

There was a soft look shared between them that held centuries of love and adoration. Beca didn't feel a part of it but she didn’t feel excluded from it either.

She thought that might feel awkward or out of place in a relationship with two people that had been in love with each other long before her ancestors were even born but she didn’t. It was comforting and she realized it was part of the reason she had fallen in love with them. If they could love each other that much, after everything they had been through, maybe they could love her forever too.

“So this is it? We're ready to face the Clans?”

“Not quite. Chloe, do you have my lock box?”

“Of course. It's in the safe behind Sal.”

Beca snorted of unsurprised amusement. “Of course you have a wall safe behind your minotaur's head. That's so Dracula campy.”

Chloe gave her a squint eyed look and went to retrieve the box. Aubrey watched the minotaur head warily, her lip curling slightly on reflex every time Chloe touched it. Beca couldn't help but chuckle at it.

“You really hate that guy.”

“He put a mark on Chloe. I would end every minotaur that walks for the insult.”

“Yikes. While I don’t disagree on the insult part we could maybe talk about this whole genocidal streak ya got going here. Turning over a new leaf, remember?”

Chloe placed a heavy metal box on the vanity between them and handed Aubrey a key. Beca reached out and touched the scarred, battered texture of the hammer marks and engraved runes.

“How old is this thing?”

“Old. It belonged to my mother. A gift from my father upon learning of my birth.”

Beca yanked her hand back immediately and gave the demon box a wary look. Aubrey fit the black glass key in the lock and twisted it. It clicked and popped easily as the tumblers dropped into place. Beca made an interested sound at the smooth movement even after all this time.

“Demon craftsmanship, am I right?”

The vampire lifted the lid with a reverent grace and removed a small leather pouch. Chloe inhaled sharply at seeing it and Beca wondered what she was missing. Aubrey shook the contents out and kissed the two rings that fell into her palm.

“When Harun and I joined and I was cast out of the Council, we created a new crest. One meant to be a symbol for a new way in a new world. I thought these ideals had died with him. But they live in you, Beca, because you, Chloe, kept them alive. It would mean a great deal if you each bore them now. Until we can create a new crest to symbolize our union.”

Beca reached for the larger of the two rings, surprised when it felt tingly and warm in her palm as if it recognized her. She traced a fingertip over the stylized M set in the top right corner of the shield design. M for Michile, her Clan of one. She couldn’t explain why that felt so significant now. She had been alone her whole life and it had bothered her, but now, now she was part of a legacy that had started with a man that shared her blood and wore this ring. Now, She had something to live up to. Now, she had a purpose.

Aubrey’s soft voice shook her out of her thoughts and she raised her head to look at the other women.

“Perhaps something of Chloe's choosing will complete the coat of arms?”

“Oh! Wait…I have…”

Chloe gave the ring she had slid on her finger another soft look of wonder and flipped open a satin padded jewelry box on the corner of her vanity. The vampire removed a small silk pouch and spilled the contents into her hand.

She smiled and lifted a delicate platinum herringbone link bracelet with a minotaur head charm with matching necklace and pendant. It was a perfect offering to symbolize Chloe.

“Can I fasten this on you?”

Beca blinked in surprise and nodded quickly. The necromancer handed her ring to Chloe to thread on the chain and lifted her hair out of the way. The new weight settled comfortably against her chest and she touched it with as much reverence as Aubrey had displayed.

Beca frowned slightly when she realized she had nothing to offer them in return. No token or symbol of who she was or what she may have accomplished in life. Aubrey felt the slight shift in her and reached out a pale hand to hers.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t have anything to give you guys. I never had something like this…I mean. I've never done anything to commemorate or anything. I'm only known for running away and the only things I own are that pile of clothes over there and a rusted out Chevy I bought off a redneck for half a bottle of Wild Turkey and a box of shotgun shells. I don’t have anything precious to give you.”

Chloe cupped her cheek gently, her thumb brushing over Beca’s jaw in a light caress.

“Beca, you are the gift you've given us. Your trust and love mean more than gold and jewels.”

Jewels. Beca reached up and touched the small stud in her ear. The only thing of real value she actually owned. A pair of diamond studs she had purchased from a real fancy jewelry store and not out of the trunk of someone's car. She had been so proud selecting them from the display and laying out her carefully arranged and smoothed bills on the counter. It had felt like she had purchased a toehold into a world she could only observe from the outside. It had taken two years of saving every cent she had but she had earned her wealth such as it was and wore it with pride everyday.

“Wait…” Beca removed each stud and held them out nervously. “I know it's not fancy or life altering but they're a part of me. A part of my struggle I guess.”

Chloe smiled softly and took a stud to pierce through her lobe without hesitation. Beca had to smile when the other woman sat down next to Aubrey at the vanity and started styling her hair in braided sections tight to her head on one side to display her earring openly.

Aubrey chuckled softly and took the other stud from Beca’s hand.

“Harun once made a similar speech to me. Only his fortune included a three legged goat named Hoppy that head butted him incessantly even as we exchanged vows. He traded from a butcher for a new cleaver because he couldn't bear to see Hoppy harmed.”

Beca rocked on her heels and laughed. Okay at least she was doing better than a three legged goat.

“Guess it's a Michile thing to be a broke bitch.”

Aubrey looked at her and blinked in surprise.

“I was going to say it is a Michile thing to share all that you have without restraint. That is who you are Beca Mitchell. That you give of yourself so willingly, down to your very blood, that is the most precious of gifts any could ask for. Chloe and I will wear this token of your bond with more pride than a bejeweled crown.”

“She’s serious about that. There's an actual crown in that demon box.”

Beca couldn't stop herself from the quick peek in the box despite the heaviness of the conversation.

“For real?”

Yep. That was a crown alright. It didn't look like anything Beca would ever wear. Mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a torture device. It was a delicate circlet of thorns from the same black glass the key had been made of, set with deep red rubies like fresh drops of blood.

It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. Beca could feel an aura of magic around it that made her a little uneasy. She took a step back from the box and curled a hand around the ring around her neck. It pulsed coolly against her palm as if reminding her it was there with her. Beca focused on the faint tingle of energy and pushed it gently with her power.

The energy swelled and slid over her fingertips and settled into her skin with a familiar throb. Power rose in her, unbidden and unchecked, making both vampires start and stare at her. Beca could feel them all again. Every necromancer and elder from the Michile line, she could feel echoes of all of them. Magic she had never known or experienced filled her mind and body in an overwhelming and painful burst and she cried out seconds before her body locked and she dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks.

The pain ebbed as quickly as it had surged and she found herself cradled in Aubrey’s arms seconds before she passed out.

#darkes of nights #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #maus writes #triple treble #pitch perfect au #pitch perfect #vampires and necromancer

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knnichs · 23 hours ago

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my eternity

young love, loyalty, and admiration. a gentle reminder from your dear friend that he will stick with you, even after you've gotten sick of him.

c. kingdom messenger sethos x royalty gn!reader

t. character(s) are friends with reader but have romantic feelings, mutual pining (ish??), royalty au obviously, friends to something more but less than lovers LOL, reader is the princeps/princess/prince of the vehero kingdom, dehya obviously knows about readers crush on sethos & sethos' crush on reader, fluff, not proofread we die like bamoun, POSSIBLY OOC SETHOS ??? wc: 4.1k WOOHOO

taglist. @thestarswhisper @honeyney @pneumosia @tragedy-of-commons @gl4di0lus @ariadnehelx @azuresaqua @mikashisus @yuomizuu-> join the taglist here!

author notes at the end !

The sun had already begun to set, but your day was far from finished.

Being the future ruler of the Vehero Kingdom, you had quite the list of responsibilities. It wasn’t as simple as attending your classes on time and doing homework once you got back anymore–despite being homeschooled your whole life. No, you now had to help with managing the events, attending meetings, and political discussions. You have to watch your every step as even the smallest mistake may lead to war.

Now is a time where you truly had to be aware of everything you say. The annual banquet was just around the corner and you had prepared a hefty bit of it. So, safe to say that you have put in a ton of effort just to make this event possible this year. It’s not that your parents didn’t trust anyone to do it for them, or they didn’t have the time to manage it–you were of age now. Maybe it’s time you take part in these events, they said to you.

You’re tired of it, though. Incredibly tired.

In between your duties–you caught glimpses of a familiar dark brown haired fellow come and go in the palace; talking with the maids, laughing while playing cards with the guards, and leaving once more with his bag filled to the brim. Sethos, your kingdom's beloved messenger.

You remember telling him to deliver the invitation letters in the port's post office after the last group of messengers failed to bring it as they ‘lost’ them (they really just went to the tavern and completely forgot about it.) He’s quite efficient with his work–usually a quick trip to the port would be around 30 minutes by foot, yet he manages to come back 15 minutes earlier.

Ah, yes. His “secret power,” as he loved to say. Especially when the king, your father, compliments him for his diligent work and asks for his route–he simply shrugged and said “I just move fast.”

There he is, in the flesh, several doors away from you; your best friend of many years now. He’s come to teach you many things about the palace. Secret doors that lead to underground tunnels, hidden doors in the library… You wonder why he knows all of this.

You lean on the wall, shoulders shrugged as you crossed your arms and sighed. You couldn’t wait until night came around–changing into your silk robes and lying on the soft mattress while reading a book you liked, or falling asleep immediately.

“Your highness,” Dehya coughed, seeing your prolonged stare at the window. You hadn’t noticed you zoned out already–no wonder your eyes felt heavy. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head as you faced the girl, greeting her with a small smile. “Nothing in particular, Dehya.”

She glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of Sethos immediately. And she grins. “Boy problems? Why don’t you go talk to him?”

For some odd reason, the idea makes you a little excited. After a really long day, a good talk with your… friend, would be pretty rewarding. Sethos is quite an entertaining person–you thought to yourself many times, questioning if he could possibly feel the same way to you.

But again, it probably wouldn’t happen at all.

“Ah, yes! Let’s go bother someone who is clearly busy. Great idea.” You roll your eyes.

“Come on, your highness. I don’t think he’ll mind,” Dehya takes a few steps closer to you, hand pointed at the window as she looks at you encouragingly. “See? He’s wavin’ at you right now.”

You went to look at the window–watching what was going on. “No, he isn’t.”

“Oh my god–just go approach him!”

“And I’m telling you, I’m doing something.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Dehya puts her arms up in defeat, eyes closed as she looks down at the floor and grinned. “I’ll see you later, your highness.”

She walks away, leaving you alone in the hallway filled with tiles and marbles and old paintings that look almost alive. You stare as she opens the doors and goes to the many living rooms in the palace. A part of you thought that she was right–maybe you should. But you somehow couldn’t get the courage to.

“He’s busy.” You repeat–mostly for yourself.

“We both don’t have the time.”

It’s been a hectic day. You’ve walked maybe ten thousand steps today from preparations alone, you wonder how it would be like on the event itself. You’ve talked with the maids, told the band what to play during the dinner, you cleared the menu your parents created as they weren’t appropriate at all for a banquet, so you ended up creating another menu and checked with the chefs if they were possible. There were just so many more that it’s hard to list them all in your head.

Now, you were fresh out of a hot bath, some chamomile tea on the side of your nightstand. You were laying in your bed, wrapped in the softest blanket, dressed in loose clothing, and you had just finished reading your book. The night was cold, so your balcony was halfway opened to bring some air into your bedroom. The moon is shining on the carpet, it’s comfortable, it’s nice.

But you can’t sleep. Not at all.

Some thoughts are rushing in your head–and there are no thoughts at all. The blanket is soft, but you feel too hot, and when you take it off you feel cold. Your head sinks into the pillows but it makes you dizzy, your tea was too sweet and now you wonder if you somehow added too much sugar and ended up getting the energy to do things. You’re tired, but not at the same time.

Does that make sense?

On nights where you find yourself restless, your first thought is to go to the gardens. There, you’re alone, only with the moon's gaze and the flowers you tend to when you have the time. Tonight is no different. Once again, you’re looking up at the sea of stars above you to find comfort.

If being an heir to the throne was this stressful, you wonder how much worse it’ll be when you do eventually become their leader.

“In deep thought, your highness?” A familiar voice calls just behind the bushes, to where the swing is. Usually you’re all alone on these nights, but it doesn’t necessarily mean a certain someone joins you from time to time.

“Sethos,” you push a few stray vines from the tree, ducking down from the branches and looking at the white swing. “Apologies… for the silence. I didn’t notice you were here.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t say anything anyway.” He pats down the space beside him, moving a little to make more room. You smile, taking a seat and nodding a thanks to the boy.

Silence wasn’t uncommon when it came to the two of you. He understood your duties drained you socially and physically—which is why he usually fills the silence with his voice. Talking about his day, what he did, or reminiscing a little on memories from the past.

“You’ve been out and about, what brings you here at this hour? I’d be too tired to even make the trip.” His voice had a raspier edge than usual—proof of his exhaustion from the day as well.

You look at the sky again, “I don’t know, actually. I felt too tired to sleep. Quite odd, isn’t it?”

He laughs, the sound bringing a certain warmth burst in your stomach.

“I’ve got just the idea then.” The boy stands from the swing and it sways the slightest bit from the sudden movement. He reaches a hand to you, offering to help you up. “Wanna join me, your highness?”

“Sethos, my friend—I trust you, but… is this okay?” You held the ends of its saddle. With a huff, Sethos successfully brings the two horses you got for your 16th birthday out of the stables. Without alerting anyone at that.

He blows the flame in the lamp, leaving the room dark as you two head out to the streets. “Yes, yes. It’s fine, completely fine.”

Although, you're not the least bit assured. If your parents catch you sneaking out late at night–without a small group of guards with you–the scolding would last weeks. All Sethos is doing is taking your hand in his, nodding as a promise. We won't get caught, and you won’t have to suffer through their endless yelling.

The sounds of their hooves tapping against the stone floor echoes throughout the streets. It’s a sound you pay no mind to in the morning–especially during events, where there are more horses to count. But at night, everything just seems to be louder. But you push forward, seeing as your little friend is exceptionally confident that nothing would go wrong. Oh, to see the look on his face when he does get caught sneaking out with the heir of the royal family this late at night–it makes you curious. Would he feel guilty, or would he feel playful and try again another time?

“This way,” He whispers, redirecting the two of you into an alleyway. You know this place, you often head through here when you need to reach the gatehouse quickly.

Which has you wondering, where is he even taking you?

There are not many places in the kingdom that would require you to pass by this specific alleyway to the gates. Well, there are none at all. The gates have only one use, and it’s to exit and enter the walls of your kingdom with ease–so why is he bringing you there with not one–but two horses?

Is he planning an escape? There is that possibility, the only problem being that he never told you in advance–how were you to get clothes and daily necessities without any mora on hand? You didn’t even fill a single pouch with the coins, like what they do in drama plays when the main character elopes with the love interest!

If that’s the case, then is this some kind of proposal? It’s true that you find Sethos attractive–you liked the way he carried himself in conversations… his smile, the way he urges you to do the most random things. Like, five years ago when he asked you to play in the mud with him after a storm. Who even offers to do that as a pastime? Your clothes would’ve gotten stained with the dirt, but he insisted otherwise.

So he’s seriously asking you to elope with him, this is just insanity!

“Sethos–wait!” You stop in your tracks, holding your palm up to his face when he turns around. “Is there… something you want to say?”

He pauses for a moment, blinking in surprise. What, had you finally caught on? Did you figure him out, with the way he’s acting right now? Holding your hand, guiding you through the kingdom–gods, he hoped not.

He laughs, “What are you even talking about? Read too many fantasy books?”

“I just–”

“No, I’m not trying to kidnap you–or anything of the sort. We’re going out to a spot I know that could help you relax.” Sethos takes a few deep breaths, no doubt trying to calm his heart from exploding at that very moment. He puts your hand to his chest, looking at you with those bright eyes of his. “Trust me. I won’t do anything to harm you, your parents would kill me if I did.”

That, they would. But you don’t say it outloud. Instead, you gently nod your head and he smiles.

“Aren’t there any guards around?” You ask, hiding behind a crate–you can’t say the same about your companion, on the other hand, and the horse you’re with right now. (Her head is peeking over the tall crates stacked on top of another, but she looks adorable doing it.)

Sethos has his arm raised in front of you. “Well, yes. But look closely.”

You squint as you do, but you see Cyno–the highest ranking knight–lead the other guards stationed by the gates to a game of TCG. It was just a sight to see, truly, you knew Cyno loved playing the card game–but not this much.

You try to hold back a chuckle but Sethos catches on, nudging you with his elbow, his lips curving.

“Let’s go, before they come back.” The boy says, holding the lead rope and leading the three of you to the gates.

“Did you pay Cyno to do this?”

“Maybe.”

The first thing that greets you outside of the kingdom walls is the familiar blow of the cold night wind, the earth's somewhat comforting dirt smell, and the deafening sounds of crickets around you. Sethos helps you up as you hop on your horse, gesturing for you to follow him into the forest.

The air only gets colder as you move, racing through the trees as Sethos speeds up. If anyone would pass through the woods now, the first thing they would hear is the laughter you two are letting out. One moment Sethos is in front of you, the second you turn he’s already behind you, preparing to scare you.

You slow down when you realize you were all alone. The trotting of Sethos’ horse can’t be heard, and no matter how loud you shout for him, he wouldn’t pop out of nowhere. You thought this might just be an elaborate set up for another scare he was going to give you, but you’re shocked to see that even after a few moments pass by, he still cannot be found.

Great. It’s the middle of the night, you’re stranded in a forest and you have no clue how to get back to the kingdom, and you have no knight with you. You don’t even know how to use a dagger. This is exactly a plot for an assassination, based on the books you’ve read.

After some seconds of struggling to get off your horse, you pat her back as a thank you. You’re not sure why you did that, exactly, the gesture just seemed nice.

Then, the sound of rustling reaches your ears.

It was from behind you–as you turned, you saw nothing but bushes. It was quite dark–so except for the moonlight shining on the field right now, you could barely see anything past the trees. Maybe it was just a rabbit, it always is. So you turn, paying no mind to the potential danger that could lie beyond it.

Suddenly you’re tackled on the ground, rolling over the patch of grass as someone has their arms around you. You’re tense, trying to break free from their hold–but once you had opened your eyes, you found out it was just Sethos who had, once again, scared the soul out of you.

“What is wrong with you?!” You yell, though playfully–you try to get him off, but he wouldn’t budge. Not at all. In fact, he impossibly hugs you tighter.

The boy doesn’t respond, instead letting go and helping you sit. You try to brush off the grass on your clothes, and once you look up, a yellow-orange glow surrounds the both of you. Fireflies. There are about a handful of them around the field, they look like stars from afar, it’s a mesmerizing sight, really.

“How do you like it?” Sethos whispered, sitting beside you.

You smile, “It’s beautiful.”

“I’d hope so. I found out about this place when I was out delivering the letters,” He plucks something from the ground, then reaches for your chin. He gently makes you turn to face him, and you notice the orange glow reflected in his eyes as he does. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, placing a flower right on top. “Is it to your satisfaction, your highness?”

The action makes your heart skip a beat–you almost think that the two of you were having a moment until he ruffled your hair playfully and looked away. You don’t answer the question.

“Dehya told me you saw me this afternoon lazing around near the guardhouse,” He muttered, his voice softly muffled since he kept his hand on his mouth. “I was actually chatting with them. A lot of the guards seem to like you now that you’re running around the castle more often.”

“Really?”

“They kinda look forward to seeing you now,” He hummed, “I guess the same could be said for me… Except–I was first, of course.”

“Oh, so you only liked me now, is that it?” You reached over and poked his sides teasingly, the boy laughed in response, trying to get your hand out.

“No–no! Of course not! I mean… I’ve always liked you, you know? But in like–not in a weird way.” Sethos looks away once again, but you catch a glimpse of the red dusting his cheeks. The boy was a liar, and you knew that.

He cleared his throat before speaking up once again, trying to clear up the awkward tension in the air.“A-anyway, how’s the banquet preparation going?”

The banquet was the last thing you wanted to talk about, if you were being honest. You came here to relax–not to talk about this again. You groan when you let yourself fall into the grass, Sethos turns his head from the sudden movement. He laughs, “Well, not a fan of the topic?”

“Talk about something else. I beg.”

“Okay then,” He reaches for something in his leather bag, he doesn’t take his hand out yet. “My friend, Tighnari. Oh, not to talk about it again but, you guys should totally invite him–well, his kingdom, to the banquet.”

You roll your eyes when he mentions the event once more, “I don’t think that’s talking about something else.”

“Anyway,” The boy grinned, trying to continue the topic anyway. “He’s a botanist, so he’s great with flowers. One day, he told me that if you pressed flowers, you could get a pretty good bookmark.”

He gives you said bookmark, smiling. “So, here. White roses in resin, since you like to read.”

Your lips curved as you received the box, sitting back up and muttering a thank you. A singular flower could be seen in the middle, its petals made to look as if it was still blooming. There were a few scattered branches around, and some leaves on the side for decorative purposes. The translucent resin only added to its beauty, it wasn’t too thick–nor too thin, definitely a bookmark you could use for your reading. You struggled finding random objects to mark the page you were on anyway.

“Thank you, Sethos.” You muttered shyly, “You just know everything, don’t you?”

You still held the bookmark in your hands, admiring the details of the flowers–the placement alone is already something to be amazed about. Everything fits perfectly, right to your preferences. You wondered if the flowers itself represent some sort of meaning–Sethos may not look like it, but he says things with hidden hints most of the time.

“How did you meet Tighnari?” You asked, glancing over the bookmark once more. “You mentioned he was from another kingdom, I’m wondering how you got to know him.”

He leans back, hands supporting his weight from behind his back. “Pure coincidence,”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Cyno and I got assigned to a mission, we were just going to accompany the King and the Queen for their afternoon tea time.” He continued, “Asked Cyno to come with me and walk around, we were bored to death. He refused and just stayed put. I walked around and saw the guy in their garden fiddling with the plants.”

“He was complaining about the placement. ‘The flowers won’t get any sunlight from here, and it’s way too unaligned!’ ” He imitated, you chuckle at his horrible impersonation.

You smile, “I’d like to get to know him someday.”

“Oh, you should! His skill is just impressive. Once you’re done chatting, you’re bound to know a thing or two about plants.” He grins.

“You know, you always seem to bring people like that into your life.” You say, “People who are really good at what they do. Tighnari with his plants, Cyno with–whatever he’s doing, and you with your… well, everything.”

Sethos turns to look at you, a look of disbelief and playfulness. “What? My charm? Come on, your highness. I’m honored but–”

“No, I meant more with your ability to just… click, with anyone. You’re not charming, not one bit.” You reply softly, seeing the way he looks almost sad with what you said–even if you knew he was just acting.

“Okay, maybe add the charm, too. You do have a way of making people comfortable.”

The boy chuckles, clearly flattered–but deflects the compliment with a shrug. “It comes natural to me, nothing impressive.”

“If you say so. I think otherwise,” You lay back down, looking at the stars. “But you are lovely to be around.”

Sethos is quiet for a moment, looking down at his hands–pondering your words. He had known you for many years now, but still, moments like this are… uncommon. Very rarely does Sethos open up to you, and the reverse. He thinks it may just be the exhaustion letting you speak freely. At the end of the day, you have a reputation to keep up as royalty.

He tilts his head, giving you that easygoing smile of his–a slight red still visible on his cheeks. “Someone’s gotta look out for you, your highness. I know Cyno or the other guards may just be more capable than I am, but–”

The boy finds a place beside you, laying on his side and turning to face you. “I have certain things that they don’t have. I’ve certainly known you for longer, I think that’s a plus.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, “I’ll hold you to that. Now you must follow me when I go to the market early in the morning.”

“Don’t I already do that?”

You hum, “Oh, I guess you do. You’re even more fitting, then.”

A silence, once again fills the air.

“I have much to do tomorrow,” You mumbled, eyes slowly closing with your fatigue. “Will you have some free time during the afternoon? Let’s eat lunch together,”

“I doubt it’s appropriate for a messenger to be dining with royalty alone.” He says.

You yawn, subtly stretching your back before rolling over to lay on your back, where you wouldn’t face him. “Don’t worry. It’ll just be like… friends eating together.”

Friends. The word is unfamiliar in your throat–It’s something more than friends, what you two have. Definitely not lovers, despite the feeling you get in your stomach when you see him look at you in a way anyone else couldn’t. You weren’t just friends either–assuming that the softness in his tone whenever he speaks to you was only reserved for you.

He nods, saying why not? You smile in response, falling asleep in the bed of flowers. It’s oddly comforting, actually, and quite cozy. You’ve never slept on the ground before.

“Your highness,” Sethos whispers, checking if you were awake. The sun had already started to rise, and the kingdom was starting to get lively once more as he heard the chatter of the guards just a little beyond the forest. He smiles, realizing you indeed have fallen asleep. He’s glad that you somehow found comfort, even if you weren’t at home.

He reaches to carry you in his arms, gently raising you up–careful not to wake you when you’re sleeping soundly. “Come on, highness. Hold tight.”

When he reaches to call for the horses, he wonders if you’ve ever stopped to think about what he truly feels towards you. It’s the saddest thing ever, that you don’t know his heart is full of you. He adores you more than words could express–yet you don’t have a clue, only because he never had the guts to tell you, not once.

Sethos walks towards the kingdom, you in his arms, and the lead ropes wrapped around his wrist. The sun shines on your face, and he wonders if you’re bothered by the sudden brightness, especially after spending the night in the woods.

As much as you hate it–he’s proud that you’re now the person organizing the yearly banquet. He knows how much you dread the event the day it comes, you hate socializing with people you barely knew. But he wishes that maybe you’ll change your mind this time around now that his friends would be coming along. People from the Akademiya, even if you don’t know them, he’ll be the one to introduce you to the people he also treasures.

Being the future ruler of Vehero, you certainly do have a longer list of responsibilities than he does. Although… he hopes that one day, his name wouldn’t be something on an endless list of chores.

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

wow this was an eyesore to write. dawg i AM NERVOUS ABOUT THE DIALOGUE THERE ARE SO MANY IM SO SCARED ITS REDUNDANT i hate dialogue i say i hate it. this was so hard to write but i lowkey enjoyed it too (no1 party anthem on loop I WAS SO LOCKED IN) this took so long too .... ong i am GLAD its finally over hell yeah :pray: i MIGHT do a part two (keyword MIGHT) where they finally get together . .. But probably not im too lazy thank you goodnight

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin impact x reader #sethos #sethos x reader #sethos x reader fluff #sethos fluff #sethos genshin impact #sethos genshin #wow knnichs posted i cant believe it

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