#things i will miss about here: fresh food and clean air and not fearing for my life constantly

[scaryvampirelady]

american things i miss but its mostly food/drink

mexican food like actual good mexican food

sidral mundet (apple soda)

IKEA FOOD

being able to buy cough drops/meds in bulk?? why so stingy, EU?? like im gonna need more than 9 cough drops obviously

my hometown boba place i would gut someone for a taiwan red milk tea with pineapple jellies rn

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 5)

(angel w/ angel daughter reader)

(caution!!!!!: mild descriptions of violence)

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hotel. angel reader resembles a fawn.)

(tags: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @just-here-reading @avitute @iam-d3ad-ins1de @des-deswain5621 @xephieeee @glowymxxn @potaturkey17 @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

My lovely editor<333: @kruncher

You were now in Rosie’s Emporium.

In Cannibal Town.

God.

In absolute shambles you were.. if it were in any other place it would be embarrassing seeing your state but considering the drastic circumstances and absolute 180 in the changes of temperatures, colors, smells, energy and even uncovered emotions that you haven't felt since you were a human finally coming out of the shadows and resurfacing, it all simply felt too much and was overwhelming your psyche.

Yet despite this— you knew you had to tough this out.

But here you were, gentle hands trembling and holding a cup of.. tea.

At least you really hoped it was tea.

“Now sweetie what in the unholy world are you doing down here? Hm?

Now now don’t keep me in suspense, if it helps any I’m not going to let anyone else’s filthy hands get on your pure little self!

Oh and me included, minus the filthy hands, mine are quite taken care of.”

This lady only made you cower a bit more simply by talking. Her sharp teeth and this confident air around her only intimidated you more.

If that’s the case.. how’d you even get in this building? Surely you had enough time to run from her in the middle of it..

Well, it's simply because she kept you from getting eaten by yet an oncoming crowd that saw the interaction with you and this apparent 'Susan' to which they seemed to have taken the old lady’s comment a bit.. too much to heart.

Their claws and baring mouths full of sharp bone, tongues salivating in wanting to try a taste of your fresh golden blood that gave off a sweet scent to them from afar.

She managed to scurry them all off with a few demands and a set of sharp words of her own, keeping you safe from becoming cannibal food for the day and honestly you'd rather be on this lady's good side if she had that kind of power to drive away the cannibals the way she did.

Your wing was even cleaned and bandaged by her despite your constant flapping in distrust and fear when she came near, feathers sprawling everywhere as if several pillows were ripped open in a kind of violent pillow fight. You were seated at a table with two chairs facing each other on each side, a bit farther back in the emporium.

“…Promise you won’t eat me, miss..”

The lady smiled fondly, her expression looking like she’s smiling towards a young child scared of the big wide world. She seemed to be genuine and true with her actions but you just really wanted to get to the hotel as soon as you could..

“Of course little thing, I promise I won’t.

Oh and where are my manners! The name's Rosie, sweetheart, I own the Cannibal Town and I lead the Cannibal Colony. Absolutely pleased to meet you."

You looked up at her with eyes full of fear and a hesitance to trust her, to give her any information at all about your circumstances.

But you weren’t raised to lie.. maybe twisting the truth wouldn’t hurt much? Keeping a few things under the rug?..

“Nice to meet you too miss Rosie..you may call me-- uh- ______.

Look I’m.. Im just looking to get back home. I heard Charlie Morningstar can help since she was in heaven awhile ago and she's the Princess of Hell, I must speak with her soon..”

The woman’s face brightened up like the sun with her sharp-toothed smile widening in remembrance. Spooking you out a tad..

“Charlie Morningstar! A real sweet thing that girl, adorable little blonde. Just a few months ago she came about and managed to convince my town of misfits to help her in preparing to defend the hotel against the angels! My goodness did she sweep them off their feet!

But yes, I know exactly where her hotel is! I can take you there as well, not a long stroll from here I'm sure. Oh but.. "

She paused with the back of her hand gently grazing your spread injured wing, it recoiling back at her touch.

"Wouldn't be surprised if any other wild sinner would want to hunt you down for sport, so maybe a nice stroll would be out of the question."

Her pale hand then moved to hold the end of her chin, the other resting on her hip as the gears in her heard started moving to find a safer passage to the hotel for you to get there.. her piqued interest in you has her wanting to see you advance a bit to see what potential you could have in this entire quarry between the both worlds at war.

"Aha! Perhaps we could have you hide inside one of those delivery carriages the townspeople have been taking in and out here to bring materials and food to the hotel. That way you avoid being seen by any potential eyes that could bring bad luck to you."

She walked up towards the large window illuminating the inside of the emporium as well as the two of you with light from Hell's pink and red hues that brighten the entirety of the realm. Her eyes now searching for a particular large object and... voila! She found it right across the town square and standing right in front of a local shop.

"Oh isn't this just perfect! There is one right there, the timing couldn't be more convenient."

You inhaled a quick breath and exhaled it as fast as it came, somehow still incredibly nervous being in a small space with this woman. Oh geez..

But you couldn't exactly complain since you did contribute in having yourself in this situation.

"So.. could we perhaps go.. now? I just.. want to head home as soon and safe as possible ma'am.."

She then suddenly turned to look at you, dress twirling and the feathers on her hat swaying in a way that indicates their movements could barley keep up with hers.

"Oh but of course! Considering half of the town's population is working on the hotel I must visit and check up on them as much as I can. I also must visit a dear ol' friend of mine, real gas that man is.

Well, then let's hop to it now shall we? We better hurry up while our tool of transportation is still here."

Your ears peaked up in slight delight at the fact that you're actually going to be heading over to the hotel now! So soon as well! This saves you so much more time, effort, and blood in trying to find the place you just knew you had to thank the woman in dark fuchsia and gray for taking you all this way. A little voice couldn't help but nag at you at how too convenient this all is.

Too bad you didn't think too much into that.

"Y..Yes! Yes ma'am!" You got up from your seat and set down your cup saucer on the table and scrambled to catch up to her and her pace with your heart pumping in your chest.

Both of you strolled across the Cannibal Plaza towards and up to the local shop with two large delivery carriages that seemed to lean on to a more older style, with them seemingly from the 1900s and were designed as if they were to hold containers like dairy and such and even people, it includeda large window on the driver's seat where they could peak in by turning their backs and looking down.. oh and it'd be a crime to not mention the horses! Although they seemed more undead and violently volatile like their cannibal owners they still were a nice touch.

Rosie and you approached them, Rosie with more confidence and you.. the opposite. "Walter, George," she spoke, an air of casualness persists "Good to see your faces alive and well! Hope you two got a minute to speak to two esteemed gals?"

The men, named Walter and George, looked up at the two of you with interest.

"Well if it isn't our Rosie! Good to see you as well madame, we sure hope you're enjoying this fine day with glee!" the man, seemingly the one called Walter spoke.

Rosie chuckled, "Oh I sure am, I even found myself a new little friend here! Which leads me in having to ask the both of you for a favor that is of most importance."

The other cannibal that goes by George focused his eyes on her and her words, "Why, anything for our beloved Rosie! What can we do for you ma'am?"

You hid slightly behind Rosie, feeling a strange comfort in just her status and power over rest of her people that made you feel at least a bit more safe from them. You would've continued listening to her conversation with the two men if the distant yet also near sound of explosions echoed across all of Hell which made you jump a little and stifle a gasp ever so slightly.

No one exactly noticed this or acknowledged the sounds too much which got you thinking if this is truly just an everyday thing.. of course it is it's hell but-- geez.. how can anyone live like this! Explosions, blood, guts, corpses, drugs, diseases, infections running rampant and indulged in the way pigs would at old farm food.

Just the thought of that damn severed hand being eaten by that little kid that you stumbled upon earlier just made you sick.. ugh.

Is this what Alastor indulges in as well?.. in his own sick way? Is he truly comfortable in a place like this?..

He must be, if he's murdered as many as he did when he was alive, you didn't dare think how many he's hurt and murdered down here as well.

He truly did belong here, in hell. He was a sadist and a psycho through and through.

And that's what disgusted you the most.

"You hear that dear! One of them is half near empty! Let's head on at once!”

Rosie finally snapped you out of your thoughts, you then just nodded as if you were present in the moment this entire time.

Rosie put a hand behind your back to guide you to the back of one of the delivery carriages and as one man held the doors open for the two of you, you both went in and sat down on the neat little benches on the inside and you couldn't help but to acknowledge the several boxes of nails and other unmentionables that you assumed was meant for the hotel and the people working on it.

Eventually after the doors closed you managed to get light by the large window that brightened up the darkness in your new much smaller environment.

“You know ______ darling, you remind me of someone I know.”

Rosie’s sudden voices spooked you quite a bit, it was a bit out of nowhere as it interrupted the awkward silence between the two of you.

“I.. do?”

She nods as her hands rested on the handle of her closed umbrella, sitting in a most elegant way.

Thank goodness she was versatile, considering the circumstances.

“You remind me of a certain friend I’m going to see when we reach the hotel, you see he’s a very powerful fellow. Charming and helpful but.. what interests me more is how alike you both look..”

It’s starting to click slightly once she said ‘he’.. god you just hoped she wasn’t referring to Alastor -- even though you knew how likely it is that she was.

"Oh? Really?.. " acting oblivious I see, but before you could properly respond to her the sound of a whip could be heard with the loud neighs of a horse following right after, making the carriage start moving.

The ride wasn't too bad, a bit traumatizing sure and you really got a good experience of hell.. more or so decent.

In the middle of your ride you seemed to have passed by a rival gang having a shootout considering the two flying bullets that punctured your vehicle which most definitely tensed you up, yet you tried to relax seeing Rosie's opposite reaction.

Then you heard many yowls and screams of ache and pain, all with their own sounds of bodies falling or the sound of wet and squishiness following the disgusting act of puncturing with some sort of weapon you couldn't even imagine can be heard despite passing by the sounds quickly.

The live murders made you feel queasy in ways that made you almost want to throw up but knew you had to keep your head up high.

God, knowing you can't see anything but still hear everything is absolute torture for your wild imagination.

"Miss Rosie, does this--" a loud boom from afar interrupted you, making you almost shrivel up "--does this.. amount of chaos truly...happen everyday?.. I know it’s.. hell but-- isn't there at least one day where this isn't happening?.."

"Oh it never stops darling. It's hell and it will keep going this way until the end of time. I do apologize though.. seems as if your pure little head isn't used to this kind of environment." Duh. "Oh but then that means you'll surely get along with the princess, if anything she seems to be more fit to be an angel."

You simply huffed as your hands trembled on your lap.

This place was downright unpredictable, and you truly hope you would be able to leave this place right after the war.

You miss home already.

----------------------------------------------------

Finally arriving at the Hazbin Hotel was a real treat.

Not really actually-- pfft.

At least not when you had to be around even more cannibals..

Now you knew why the town seemed a little.. empty. The rest were all here.

Charming of them to be helping out but thanks to 'Susan' you didn't want to interact with any of them.

Walking out of your carriage you felt your heart up in your throat and slowly start to beat at a violent pace. Your anxiety was rising.

Rosie lead you to the front of the hotel doors, seemingly dusting herself off fixing her hair and hat before her hand turned into a fit to knock at the door.

You did the same thing she did, except in a more nervous and trembly way. Alastor was in here.. you were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones and your veins wanting to pop blood from out your ears and nose was seemingly close to happening with how hard the beating of your pulse got once Rosie finally did what you were dreading slightly.

knock, knock.. knock.

'okay _____ stay calm. you knew this was going to be bad, but you're here now.. just breathe, breathe...' you followed your own advice and took an inhale but as you let your shaky exhale out the door was slowly opening.

your eyes were staring dead at the head of the door.

was it Charlie? Vaggie? Alastor?--

"Hello there, just came to deliver someone who was looking for the Hotel. Oh and I came to check up on my cannibals and on Alastor."

Rosie all but confirmed it.

She knew Alastor.

For some reason, your heart sank, not just because she knew Alastor very well apparently but because this feels like a sort of strange betrayal.

You really wished she would've told you.. but if she did you would've freaked out even more-- and maybe she could tell?.. wait-- how would she even know your connection to him anyway??.. looking like a fawn couldn't just straight up tell her..

Yet when you finally looked up at the now open door it was actually none of those three that you knew of.

It was a.. cat? A grumpy lookin' one.

He looked at you and up at Rosie, her arm proceeding to go behind your back to push you gently up closer to the door as if to tell the cat to let you in. His eyes widened at the look at you and your physical attributes.. your wings and halo catching his eye but your fawn like appearance only enhancing the tension in his face a lot more.

He eventually let out a husky sigh with the expression on his face relaxing, his voice being very low and his years were audible in his vocal chords he then turned behind him to loudly announce one single thing from afar:

"You've got company."

He turned back at the two of you and opened the door for you to go through, Rosie guiding you in first.

"He's inside talking to the princess, just walk ahead, take a right and you'll see him." He spoke straight forwardly and serious, it made you feel a little unwelcome. Yet as you walked in you couldn't help but feel those eyes of his stick to you like glue.. you couldn't really blame him-- you were sure they don't see an angel everyday the way you are with hell's environments.

The clicking of Rosie's shoes and the gentle pitter patter of your own gave you goosebumps up your arms, and the more you walked and the closer you heard certain voices the more your spine crawled.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four steps...

You could barley hear anything but the thumping of your own heart.

The small area of the hotel seemed to have been a sort of living room, sets of chairs and sofas surrounding a television box that seemed to be from one of the more later years after your time.

A calm Alastor and a stressed out Charlie were seated on the two different sofa while facing each other with papers and maps scattered around the table in the middle. Rosie lead you further to have you be in the view of the both of them.. you could've sworn her smile stretched as she did so

"Well if it isn't our beloved Rosie! What a warming surprise!--" Alastor's voice cheered until the end, where a sharp radio static interrupted his sentence and irritated those ears of yours.

"Rosie!" Charlie stood up from her seat in a polite yet frazzled state "Thank you so much for visiting!.. and I-- oh.."

The silence was deafening. You waved awkwardly as you avoided eye contact with your father and faced Charlie herself, her eyes basically ready to budge out and her jaws hanging slightly.

"Just came to visit and bring a little gift! I found this little bird during my stroll around my cannibal town and she seems to need your assistance! Isn't that right ______ darling?"

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more. You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class..

'oh dear.. "

—--------------------------------------------

It was yet another cold and dark night in the beautiful New Orleans, faint night music can be heard even in the dead of night from the nearby clubs. A fresh and gentle night,

Ah but.. Alastor wasn’t exactly getting his hours of much needed sleep, for he had been rudely awakened by the cries of a baby.

Yes, you were around ten months old at this time and Alastor was yet to get used to this. There wasn’t a day that passed by where he didn’t think of dropping you at an orphanage. But then again.. It wasn’t that hard to get you to stop crying so those heinous thoughts left very quickly. Except for this day, he was getting challenged by a ten month old you.

“Shh shh shh.. goodness _____ please just go to sleep..” he mumbled, definitely frustrated. Despite his pleas, you just kept on crying and crying while resting over his shoulder. He fed you, patted your back, rocked you to sleep.. nothing worked– unfortunately Alastor wasn’t thinking of one of the most obvious solutions to this situation since the poor guy was too tired to truly think properly.

He kept gently patting your back, shushing you and cooing softly in hopes to tire you out. Your small yet mighty cries continued to rage against his ear..

god he had no idea what to do.

That was when he held you, his hands under your arms as he had you held in front of his face. His glasses were sloppily slapped above his nose, eye bags under his eyes, and a small smile was threatening to turn into a huge frown.

“Little lady.. I don’t appreciate you keeping me up longer than usual tonight, what in the world could you want?” Alastor asked you despite knowing you couldnt understand let alone talk to him back. You simply looked at him with big innocent eyes filled with tears, your baby face stained with dry and wet tear stains and your mouth nibbling on your hand on the verge of crying all over again. Alastor couldn’t help but to look at you almost blankly, he just wanted to sleep.

Gahh but then your eyes started watering again, your little bottom lip curled up over your top one as it quivered and looked at him with these little pained eyes as if he just told you the worst thing ever.

“Oh don’t look at me like that..” he mumbled.. Dreading the feeling you gave him when you cried– it felt like your cries were hurting him, it pained him hearing you cry so hard.

He wasn’t exactly fond of feeling this.

Your loud crying resumed once again, Alastor let out a huge sigh.

“Oh fine- I apologize.. There, better now?” you cried harder, clearly.. no.

He groaned as he then rested you on his chest, your face over his shoulder once again. If your crying wasn’t going to stop he might as well listen to a song to calm his agitation. And so he did, he headed to the living room to then turn on the phonograph. With the device already having a disc in it he simply had to turn it on so it could play where it left off and the second it released the sound of bliss he let out a sigh of relief, that at least despite the crying he could at least go through this as calmly as possible.

The music wasn’t exactly loud, very faint in fact yet he could still hear it a little bit over your crying. He hummed to the tune of the song as he simply patted your back gently and waited for your cries to disintegrate.

This was one of his favorite songs as they were from a musician that is recently becoming incredibly famous in the music industry and Alastor was fascinated by their use of melody and sound.

Melodies that reminded him of the days of his mother when she was still gracing the earth, a real saint that woman was.

Sometimes he talks to her through a photo of her on the wall, asking her questions she’ll never answer, seeking advice and wisdom that he won’t ever be able to hear again.

If only her sickness didn’t overtake her as fast as it did, maybe she would know what to say to motivate him more in this moment of struggle.

He thought and thought and thought as if his head would burst if he didn't.. wondering how she would help him in raising you. What she would say, her suggestions, recommendations.. what would she do in a situation like this.

He knew he had to stay calm and stay in control, he had to keep smiling for that’s what his mother always did no matter what came her way.

She handled it with grace, poise, and with a smile.

It took him around an hour of overthinking about his mothers death, you, his future, his job, and his.. pff.. fascinations.. the lack of sleep seriously taking a toll on him as his want was slowly getting tired of patting you.

But most of all he was thinking about you. His future included yours.

How kind.. despite being so heartless.

Oh.. the song ended and all that was left was the soft static from the machine, blissful silence was all that was heard.

Wait..

Silence?

He looked over his shoulder to look at you, your little baby cheeks squished against him, your eyes closed and your breathing steady..

Finally! You're asleep.

Another sigh of relief released from his lips, continuing to loudly hum the same song that was playing earlier as he slowly walked out of the living room towards his room, now stopping at your crib.

He continued humming as one of his hands held the back of your head and the other held your back, gently placing you in the crib while humming the tune he kept you close while he set you down so you wouldn’t suddenly burst in crying again.

Once he gently managed to place you down with no fuss.. He was darn ready to sleep.

Oh but he took a moment to look at you, leaning against the railings of your ‘bed’ made specifically for you.

Your little baby fat and your squishy cheeks that made your little face even cuter– once again, he was never fond of kids let alone babies but hell if only you didn’t look at him the way you did on that rainy day he found you.. Giggling and smiling even when you didn’t have a single clue of what your situation was as a month old baby.

“You are definitely a handful.. If you kept crying I might have left you in an orphanage by now.” he whispered and joked to himself– no matter the cruel jokes he makes he’ll always find laughter in moments or scenarios of despair.

He’s too far gone now though, he’s bought all your necessities and his home basically screams of a baby’s presence, so even if he truly wanted to do that he knew it’s too late to turn back and you're stuck to him forever.. Well however long ‘forever’ is.

"Domestic life was never quite my style.. still isn't, but I can simply make a few exceptions."

“Well now.. sweetest of dreams, little dove.” he mumbled quietly before finally heading to his own bed himself.

Alastor finally settling in and finally getting comfortable and very slowly falling asleep himself.. glasses back on his nightstand and the noise around him becoming fainter and his mind seemed to finally start powering off for the night.

Finally.. time to sleep.. there's much work to do tomorrow.

Until he heard shuffling from the crib.

‘Oh god.’

(thank you so much for reading part 5 of my angel baby! the stakes are gonna get real high between the reader and Alastor! hope everything goes well for the two when one of them starts interacting!(alastor lmao) hope to see you all in part 6 if you are willing to stick around! Im really only planning to finish this series until the very end or until you guys stop wanting it but nonetheless I hope we reach the end of this story soon!!)

[melithril]

[Adar] Never Again

♫ - It Will Be Me - Melissa Ethiridge

A/N: For @marciamolitor13 on AO3. This is quite angsty and a bit long, but I hope its worth reading! Enjoy! <3

Every day began to feel the same. The same four walls, the same footsteps outside his cell. The same view of the wall before him, everything unchanging. The damp wood smell was not the most pleasurable of smells, either. His current circumstance was also less than desirable, but Adar's will was much stronger than the elves had perhaps anticipated.

They interrogated him every day, and every day he gave the same answer. They asked of Sauron's whereabouts, he would reply with ignorance. The torture grew each time, but so did his willpower. The elves would not believe him, but he was not lying.

Adar simply did not know where Sauron was.

In truth, Adar did not know why he was here in any aspect. It wasn't him that the elves were after. It was Sauron, he was the one they needed. But would they listen? No, they would not. The elves believed if they kept Adar and tortured him, that he would either tell them what they wanted to know, or Sauron would show up and save him.

What they had failed to realise, however, is that Adar and Sauron were far from friends. Even on his best day, Sauron would not save Adar from anything. Despite all of his protests to the elves about this very thing, they chose to turn a blind eye,believing entirely in their cause. Adar pitied them, more for wasting their own time than his situation.

There were things the uruk was missing about not being chained up like a dog. Fresh air, fresh food, the ability to walk more than five feet without metal binding him to a post. But, more than anything in the world, he missed you. Your scent, your arms, the soft kisses you pressed against his skin. Adar missed your beauty, the light you radiated in his dark world.

Now, he thought back to the first time you had met.

You had come to him in his hour of greatest need. He was alone, having suffered already at the hands of Melkor. You had found the uruk in the woods, quite wounded and leaning against a tree. Something compelled you to help him, and you were a skilled healer. You gave him some herbs from your satchel, and made sure his wounds were bleeding no more. Grateful, Adar allowed a small moment of vulnerability and let his eyes close. He was shocked to find you still sat with him against the tree many hours later.

"Hello," your voice was soft, like music to his ears. "I am glad to see you well."

"Why did you help me? We have not met, I could have been anyone."

"You still are anyone, elf with no name," you played, brushing a stray hair from his face. "I am a healer, it is what I do best. I could not just leave you here to die."

Adar simply stared at you, in awe of the kindness you had shown him. He wasn't used to someone being so gentle, without even knowing so much as his name. Still a little weak, he used up some of his energy and took your hand, graciously squeezing it.

"Thank you, stranger."

"You are most welcome, stranger."

Adar had joined you back at your home, a small hut in the middle of the forest. You offered him your bathroom to clean up, and clothed him in fresh linens you had lying around, albeit they were semi-ill fitting. After he had returned from the bath, he found a table of food and drink before him.

"You look fresh, you must feel it," you smiled, calm and welcoming. "Come, sit and eat, you most certainly need it."

Silently, Adar sat across from you and began to eat, feeling guilty for putting such a burden on you. His eyes had not met yours since he had sat down, a sign to you that he was nervous. You stood, kneeling down before him. Taking one of his scarred hands into your own, the uruk's eyes finally landed on your own, as you looked up to him.

"You need not fear anything here, mellon, you are safe inside these walls. I promise you, I will keep you safe as long as you need."

Adar went to sleep that night for the first time in so long, warm and comforted and with a sense of belonging. The last thing he thought of with his newly unclouded mind was that he never did tell you his name.

Commotion outside his cell brought Adar from his thoughts, though it didn't seem too loud. The feint sound of metal hitting the stone floors suggested to him, as a man who had heard his fair share of it, that it was armour and men inside it. Wondering just what had happened, Adar's head snapped to his door, eyeing the shadow that now had arisen on the wall just outside. A trip and curse from an all too familiar voice made his head spin.

Keys were inserted in the door keeping him trapped in the cold, stone walls, and as the iron bars swung open, your form appeared from around the corner.

"Adar!" you whispered, but with urgency behind your voice. You ran to him, though you did not throw yourself into his arms in case he had any injuries. He most certainly did, and the extent of which you were not expecting. "Oh Adar, what have they done to you?"

"Shh," he cooed, pulling you onto him, ignoring every searing pain that ran through him. "You came for me? Why would you risk your life like that, you could have been killed."

Adar's voice was raspier than normal, and you knew he had not been fed or watered properly in so long. You opened your flask, allowing him to drink. You stroked the side of his face, placing your forehead against his own once he was finished.

"I would not so easily abandon you, my love. I always said I would protect you, and I will keep to that word. I may be a healer, but I can also kill, too. They have harmed the man I love, and so they suffered the consequences. I am sure the elves will not take too kindly to their dead soldiers, perhaps we can make haste. Can you stand?"

"I can," he muffled out, as you helped him up and undid his shackles. Before you could do anything else, once he was free Adar's arms encased you, and he kissed you with a needy passion. You entangled your hands into his brown locks and kissed him back, stopping him from stumbling over.

"Come, Adar, I have a horse waiting. It is dark enough outside that we can escape undetected."

With that, you left, supporting Adar's weight as you went. You heard a chuckle come form your lover, and you looked up to question what was so funny to him.

"I find it humourous that you told me that the darkness would be the reason we were safe to escape, and not twelve dead elves that were at my guard."

You smiled, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, the darkness helps, no?"

Adar laughed again, a beautiful sound to your ears, as you made your ways across the field between you and the horse. Helping your injured lover up, you rode into the forest and headed for home. It did not take long, as your steed was among the fastest in the land. Perhaps two hours had passed and you were at your door.

The ride home had been silent, and you knew the experiences Adar had inside that prison would have taken its toll on him. You allowed him to sit, and fetched him some water and food. Gratefully, he began to eat. You headed to the bathroom and ran him a hot bath.

"Starlight," Adar spoke, beckoning you forward to him. You were pulled swiftly onto his lap, where he held you by the waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Silently, you held him. You knew that what he endured with the elves would have reminded him of his past, and for that you would not pressure him to speak. Instead, you whispered to him words of comfort.

"My love," your lips by his ear as you placed a kiss on his temple. "You are safe again. I told you when you first arrived here as a stranger that no harm will come to you in these walls. That remains true. I have you, and I will always protect you. There is nothing in this world I would fear enough to not follow through with my promise. You are my light, my love, and never again will I let you suffer in this life."

Tears fell from Adar's eyes in a moment of complete emotion, and you felt them race along your skin. Gently, you tilted his chin up to look at you, cupping his face with your hand and smiling softly. Your lips met his, pausing to give him time to reject. But, he closed the gap instead and rested his hand on the back of your neck. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever for him, and he pulled away to marvel at you sat before him. Taking the opportunity, you traced his features with your fingers and spoke.

"I love you, Adar. More than you could ever know, but I hope you feel it every day. Now come, let us bathe and rest, and as the sun rises tomorrow we can make this a thing of the past."

You would never know just how much your words meant to Adar. To have someone who cared so fiercely made his heart warm. To him, you were everything. He had found a new lease on life loving you, and vowed to love you to the end of his days and with everything he had left in his heart.

[crybaby-bkg]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝓮

Day two of gojober! Warnings: implied gojo x getou, faerie gojo x human reader, aphrodisiac through faerie food, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, smut, riding, unprotected sex, mating bond, public sex, orgy, come eating, bloody kisses, biting. please let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 7.7k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI Also available on Ao3 Masterlist can be found here

Growing up, there were loads of folklore about the faeries you coexisted with in the world. Tales of pixies giving haircuts for the price of your shiniest coin. Of selkies making trades for lungs to give one gills for an hour a day, something to switch places. Tales of brownies cleaning up your house in the night, as long as you left out cheese on the countertops. Of trolls and nymphs and goblins and sirens.

For the longest time, people liked them, learned how to coexist with them until—until they learned that the faerie king is dead. And with him went the peace treaties and the sharing of lands and fauna and kindness. Now replaced with unsettled feelings and unsure fear resting in humans bellies, a growing pit of hunger in the faeries.

But before things start to become unruly, the fae gave word of message with any and every mean that they could; from the awkward mouths of deer with too black eyes, written into the dust of one’s windows, carried in the whispers of the wind. They all give the same message; a new King is coming, and with him, comes change.

It leaves everyone unsettled, terrified, on edge. Will this faerie king bring back the violence that was bestowed upon humans centuries ago? Will they be hunted for sport again? Kept as slaves? As livestock to feed from and fuck and hunt and breed whenever they so desired?

It’s why the leaders of your village give all of you the warning to stay on guard. To be on high alert, to keep away from the woods that dwindle with the Folk, to make sure the strangers you meet have five fingers, no more, no less. (The changelings still have a little trouble with mimicking the depth of humans, but sometimes the soul sucking leers they give you are all the notice that you need.)

It’s why you know you should ignore the humming of saccharine sweet voices that glide through the air, slides against the open pane of your window. You know those calls, have heard them near the shores of lakes, accompanied by too sharp teeth and misshapen faces. Have heard the heart stopping music that makes you dance and dance until the soles of your feet bleed and you drop from exhaustion.

You should ignore it. The leaders of your village would tell you to ignore it.

And everyone else does, too. There’s not a single soul outside, wandering the streets, following the music and the food and the singing deep into the heart of the woods. Orders were to stay in after dark, to put fresh berries and pies on your doorstep to keep the Folk kind, less they change their minds about their appetites for human flesh.

So why does the music call to you so loudly? So enticingly, that you’re not even sure your head is on all the way as you climb from your window, sure not to wake your family in your venturing outside. It could be dangerous. There could be a boggart lingering in the high grass, ready to snatch you and take you back to Faerie, but the music calls for you too loudly to ignore. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to find the heart of the music, in the middle of the woods. You dance lightly on your feet all the way there, your eyes closed as you hum along to the enticing melodies, your body somehow knowing the path along the way. You don’t trip or stumble, don’t scratch your cheeks on leering branches, or find a boggart ready to snack on your bones and flesh. 

After what could be minutes or hours, do you finally find the heart of the festivities. There are no humans here, you remark to yourself as you scan the expansive area. However, there are all kinds of Folk here; small and huge, flesh colored and gray and green skinned, sharp teeth and gaping hole where a mouth should be, colorless eyes and unnaturally stained ones, all of their teeth ready to devour. You give pause when the attention is turned to you, and you wonder if they’ll at least knock you unconscious before they begin passing you around like an apple tart on a silver platter. You should’ve brought iron. 

But instead of tearing into you, one faerie grabs your hand and dances with you. Its an orc, who’s almost doubled your height, with slicked green skin and two sharp fangs that protrude from the bottom half of his mouth. He says something to you in a language you don’t understand, but it makes you laugh, for some reason, anyway. You’re passed off to a pixie next, who’s too small to properly hold, but she buzzes around your head, placing flowers too vibrant to be found in the human realms in your hair.

And the rest of the night seems to go that way; passed off from Folk to Folk, all welcoming, all giving you some piece of a gift you’re not really sure what to do with. But you accept it all anyway, feeling more at home than you have in a long time. 

You’re pulled into a faerie circle by the end of the night, winded and full of the foods that some have given you. You were always warned to never eat or drink anything from the Fae, but they offered it so kindly, how could you resist? How could you resist when the flavors of meats and pies you’ve never even heard of tastes like ambrosia? Like a sweet afterlife that you can dip your fingers into without the eternity of it all capturing you? 

So you dance and dance and laugh and laugh until your ribs ache and your feet begin to blister and your belly becomes full, but never quite full enough. You think you could die here, peaceful, happy, knowing that your last moments were spent so joyously, that to live another second without it, would be more painful than the death that followed. 

But someone pulls you from the circle, and it feels like time has suddenly caught up to you. The sun creeps over the horizon, despite the fact that when you had arrived, the moon still rested high in between the clouds. How could you have danced for so long, that a new day has begun? What will your parents think? Oh gods, you have to get back to them—

“Does my face scare you that badly, that you flee at the first sight of me?” A quiet voice pulls you from your thoughts, your head snapping to attention. You’re greeted by an almost ethereal kind of beauty; he’s a Fae, obviously, but one of the more…human, looking ones. He stands taller than you, his form lithe beneath the pure white linens and silks he wears, that drapes around his form. They match the purity of his hair, that seemingly glistens as the suns first rays hits the crown of his head. His face is pale, and the only thing that makes him obviously Fae are the pointed ears, and the lack of an iris; the entirety of his eyes where the white should be, instead glossed over with an oceanic blue that stuns you at the first sight of it. The fae grins crookedly at your gaping, placing a hand on his hip as he cocks his head at you. 

“Or has the wine run out of your system?” He teases with a wink. It brings you out of your stupor, and you can’t help but let out a little breathless laugh. You shake your head at him, before nodding your chin in greeting. 

“My apologies,” you say softly, knowing better than to ask him for his name. They were a sacred thing amongst the Fae, and just as sacred if you gave them out, too, as a human. But something about the otherworldly looking faerie made you want to give it all to him. You knew better, unfortunately for him. 

“Apologizing to a Fae? You must want to make it up to me, then.” He grins at you, pretty and scary all at once, his teeth too white, his canines too sharp. You could smack yourself on the head for forgetting. 

“All these word rules with you Folk,” you groan with a playful roll of your eyes. The faerie laughs, the sound elegant and soft, his sharp chin tipped back in mirth at the way you grin at him.   His laughter teeters out, the sound seemingly carried through the soft wind, rustling what you first thought was a tree, before it smiled and began walking toward the dancing circle. Your eyes slide back over to the faerie in front of you, a shadow suddenly casted over the brightness of his eyes, the corners of his lips upturned elegantly. 

“I’ll let you off the hook easily.” He promises you, holding a hand out for you to join. But you eye it warily, wiggling your own fingers in his directions. 

“Oh yeah? By only eating nine of my fingers, and not ten?” You inquire with a cock of your eyebrow, something deep inside of you screaming for you to not give him any kinds of ideas. But the faerie only smiles, easily sliding his lithe, cold fingers against your own wiggling ones. 

“Technically its eight fingers and two thumbs, but who’s counting?” He says playfully, to which you shoot him a look. He grins at you, all teeth, and it unnerves some deep, primal part of you that you try to smother. The faerie begins to lead you deeper into the party, toward a gray marbled dais that you hadn’t noticed before. It must’ve been for the Faerie King, who had passed on from—well, now that you think about it, you don’t really know how the old King died.

“No, I’d like you to make it up to me by dancing with me.” He stops short of the dais, where a huge circle rests in front of the empty throne. The middle of the circle has grass fresher than the blades just a foot outside of the circle, velvety purple flowers springing higher and higher the more faeries dance around it. It seems to bloom with every passing second, and you watch as some of the partygoers snatch a few up, either eating the flowers whole or crushing them into their wines. 

“If you insist.” You murmur under your breath as you watch the strange tradition. But the faerie only chuckles quietly at you, pulling you behind him as he walks toward the circle. Quickly, do the others in dancing along the circle start to peter off one by one, until only you and the blue eyed faerie are left. He holds you against him, chest to chest, your feet carrying you better than they ever have with the other boys in your village. You dance forward and backwards, spinning and dipping, laughter spilling from your lips all the while as you somehow keep up with this faerie who has to have been made for the purpose of bringing forth elegance into the world. 

After the sun has finally come up, resting high and bright in the sky, do you finally slow down. You know you should be leaving soon, should get back to your family, but the faerie slows his steps, his arms around your waist, his head ducked down to whisper in your ear. 

“So, why are you here?” He asks suddenly, making you purse your lips in confusion as you pull away from him. You still dance parallel to him, more of a sway of your hips as he stalks toward you, round and round the circle. 

“Oh, so you ask me to dance just to kick me out right after? I thought the Fae had manners.” You chide, folding your arms over your chest as you change the routine, now stalking toward him. The faerie smiles, bright, hands up disarmingly as he follows your lead, reaching out to lay a hand on your hip. 

“No, to both of those. Have you ever met a Dryad who’s hungry?” He cocks his head to one in the far corner, who bites at an elf who strays too close. You can’t help the snicker that leaves you, before you turn back to the faerie. 

“I meant, why are you the only human here?” The faerie returns your attention to him, his words soft, hushed, only for you to hear. He continues on before you can answer with a cock of his head. “I know your people have been scared, and are staying away from us for the time being. So why come?”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, stepping closer so that you can hold him around the neck again. “I can’t really explain it. The music just called to me, and nobody else. That’s when I knew I had to follow it.” 

You look up at him with such honest eyes, that his face settles softly from the tense expression he hadn’t even realized he’s been wearing. He stares at you, for an almost unsettlingly long time, his mouth curving up just the slightest bit as he dips his head at you. 

“Just the answer I was looking for.” He whispers against the curve of your cheek, leaving your face feeling heated, his hands skimming over the softness of you through your clothes. But the moment he pulls away, you get this suddenly sinking feeling in your stomach, like somethings not right. You knew faeries could be tricky beings, but what could you have said that could incriminate you? What could you have done for him to look at you suddenly, not like the human he danced with, but as the prey he now lusted for? 

“Thank you to everyone for the festivities.” He suddenly says, pulling you both from the circle, despite the fact that your feet wish to continue dancing. Its an unbalancing feeling, being snatched away from the circle that you knew had led to many deaths, and yet you wished for just a moment more. But you can’t focus on that, as you suddenly realize that everyone has turned to face you two, their eyes locked on where the faerie holds your hand in his own. 

“As your new Fae King, I will not bow to my people,” The faerie says with a shit eating little grin, makes a few chuckles and murmurs fall upon the crowd but—but you pause. Your body tenses up at the realization, at the sinking, dizzying realization that this faerie…the one you had danced with and laughed with and spent the majority of your night with…was the newly appointed King that had warned everyone in your kingdom. 

What the actual fuck was going on? Why the fuck didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t anyone say anything? You look toward the empty dais, wonder if he had sat there before you had been lured to the festivities, if he watched you up there while you were passed from fae to fae. How hadn’t you noticed? How could you be so foolish? This was all a trap; it had to be! A ploy to see which human would take the bait, any excuse to accuse humanity of trying to tip the balance, any excuse for them to go into town and slaughter and enslave all of your people. 

How could you be so fucking foolish?

“But I do tip my head to you, as your music has helped my new mate find her place amongst us. Let us welcome her to her new home.” The faerie smiles, wide and proud, holding a cup that an elf had handed to him while your mind raced and—wait. Wait a fucking second now. 

Your head whips to the faerie, who stares out at his people, proud, his chest puffed, his chin held high. You sputter, looking for words, where all fail you. You feel a primal sort of panic start to overcome you, and you’re not entirely sure that you’re breathing right now. 

“She’s taking this a lot better than the last one, that’s for sure,” you hear from a dry voice amongst the crowd, a black haired faerie with big pointed ears who tips his head to the other fae at your side. It kicks you into reality, your internal panic suddenly becoming physical as you gasp, ripping yourself away from the blue eyed fae. He only smiles at you, as if he were expecting this exact reaction, as if surprised it took you this long to push him away. 

“What the fuck?” Is all you can get out through your quick breaths, your chest suddenly feeling too tight, the open space of the woods suddenly feeling too closed in with all the creatures inhabiting it. “Your mate? My new home? What the fuck are you on about, you fucking—”

“Ah, I think it’s best that you not finish that sentence.” The faerie smiles at you, and suddenly its not so carefree anymore. Its strained, pulled tight at the corners, makes his dimples look like cuts from the last victim trying to claw their way from his greedy hands. “Don’t want to insult your new King, and fuck up the treaty between us and humans, now, would you?” 

It’s a threat, and an obvious one at that. You suck in a shaky breath, looking around for help, any kind, from anybody. But they all smile at the two of you, someone even raising a glass, toasting to the new king and his newly found mate. You think you might throw up. 

The faerie grabs your hand, but you snatch away from him with a shaky growl. Your eyes well with tears; this was a trap. This whole night was a trap, and you were to be the sacrifice for your people. Did everyone know, but you? Did you parents know? Did only these forest dwelling creatures know with their enchanted magical music? Are you just a pawn in the grander scheme of things? 

The faerie only smiles at you, though, like you’re some child that can be easily disarmed with a lollipop and a pat on the head. He picks you up before you can protest, holding you tight to his chest as you begin to wriggle around, screaming out in protest. But no one comes to your aid. They only watch, bowing as he passes them, leading you up, up, up to the dais where a single throne sits. 

“We’ll get one made for you after we consummate our newly formed bond.” The faerie whispers against your cheek. You can feel the leering smile, the sharp teeth that scrape your skin with every word. You flinch away from him, suddenly hot at the thought of having to be intimate with such a tricky creature. 

“I’d rather slit my own throat.” You growl at the faerie, who only pouts at you before he plops down on the throne with you over his lap. Your legs hang off the sides of the cold, expansive seat, your back propped up against his arm as he turns you to face him. 

“But its such a pretty throat,” he purrs, his eyes lidded, his smile feline. It would be an alluring sight if the gravity of the situation hadn’t settled in five minutes ago. Instead of swooning, you scrunch your nose at him, trying to pull away as far as you can but the faerie only holds you tight to him. 

“We had such a good time, just a minute ago. Don’t you want to continue it?” He asks, nuzzling his frigid nose against the column of your throat. It tips your head back the slightest bit, exposes your jugular, the way your heartbeat settles against the thin flesh there. You swallow thickly, pushing him away by the shoulders, and he lets you. (It’s important to remember, that as the Faerie King, he let you.)

“It was all under the guise of a trick, a lie.” You snarl at him, your faces suddenly too close, his eyes too blue. They only blink at you, faux innocent, his stark white eyebrows curving up ever so slightly as if in confusion. 

“You know we Folk can’t lie, sweetheart.” He chides you, softly, as if you were a mere child. The brush of his soft knuckles against the swell of your cheek is condescending, and you try to shake him off. He doesn’t let you. Instead, he palms your cheek and jaw in his hand, tilting your head toward him, despite how you try to crane your neck away. He watches the tears well in your eyes, the way your teeth grit in frustration, feels the way your nails dig into the skin of his arms, trying to pull him back. He sees the anger. He soothes it with a sweet, saccharine kiss to the tip of your nose as a single tear escapes the corner of your eye. 

“But you deceived me.” You spit at him, gritting your words through your teeth. “You knew I was the only human who had shown up, meaning I would be connected to you in some way.” He doesn’t deny it. Simply turns your head this way and that as if examining you, pressing soft, simple kisses in the wake of your salty tears. When he doesn’t say anything, you look out to the crowd of creatures who watch you with leering eyes, gathering round the dais, as if waiting for the show, as if hanging on to your every, crying word. 

“And you’re the fucking King. What the fuck?” You whisper, even though you’re sure the other fae can hear you with their stupidly good hearing. Some of them snicker, others baring their teeth at you for speaking to their king like that. But you don’t flinch, don’t waver, just sit in a shaking ball of fury as the faerie holds you to him even closer, until you’re sure that his very fingertips brush against the bone of your ribs. 

“Would it better if we had this conversation elsewhere?” The faerie asks against the curve of your cheek, his voice mischievous, his smile sneaky. Before you can answer, he stands with you in his arms, taking a step off of the dais, but time seems to move differently in those few seconds. 

One moment, you’re in the open forest with all kinds of creatures staring back at you, with tables full of wine and food to feed an entire village. And in the next second, you’re plopped down onto a bed too big for one person, too soft to be made in the human realm, and a blue eyed faerie grinning at you from where he stands beside the bed. 

You sit up jerkily, clutching your chest as you suck in breath after breath, looking around the room, trying to take in as much as you can. 

“Where am I? What the fuck did you do?” You ask him in a rasp, hair mussed from where he threw you on the bed. The room is huge, the bed barely even taking up half of it. It seems to be alive, the room, as things start to move the longer you look at them—the dresser begins to split into two, which moves an adjacent door down a bit to make room, the desk in the corner scoots itself over until its tucked in discreetly, the sheets on the bed roll down to welcome you under the covers—

“What the fuck?” You scream again, trying to jump off of the moving bed, when the faerie catches you in his arms. You stand on your knees before him as he holds you by the upper arms, his smile wide and infectious, but there isn’t much for you to find humor in, at the moment. 

“Just a little faerie magic,” he says nonchalantly, with a lift of his shoulders. You can only look at him incredulously for a moment before the tears begin to well in your eyes again. At that, his face falls, ever so slightly, his mouth pouting as he lowers you into a sitting position once more, tucking you in against his side. 

“C’mon now, don’t cry. I’m sure your life here is gonna be so much better than how you had to live before.” He says softly into your hair, wrapping you up tightly in his embrace, makes you feel suffocated. You pull away from him, wiping your face with the backs of your hands as you narrow your eyes at him in frustration. 

“I’m sure it will be,” you snap, aware of how the magic in Faerie improves the lives of so many, “but the entire point is that I didn’t have a choice.” Your words are spitting, your hackles raised like some feline ready to pounce. The faerie only frowns at you, his hands twisting against the other in his lap, seemingly unsettled by the distance put between the two of you. 

“You know, I didn’t either, technically.” He rebuts, his pink mouth set in a soft pout, the blue of his eyes dimming ever so slightly as he casts his gaze down to the silken sheets. They’re blue like his eyes, except for maybe a shade lighter, woven with white thread to create some sort of language you can’t understand. It would be prettier if you weren’t here against your will. 

“But at least you knew about this whole mate thing, in the first place. It blindsided me.” Your voice is pleading, cracking as you grip your chest in pain. You were enough of a dreamer to romanticize almost any and every situation and scenario. But it was always based on the consent of it all, the knowledge of what was to come. Maybe if you had known about this whole mate situation before tonight, you would’ve reacted better. Would’ve came dressed in your prettiest gown and nicest shoes, with your fingernails painted, and your hair woven through with the flowers from your garden. 

But you hadn’t known anything. You were just thrown into this entire situation without any care or regard of how it would make you feel, make your family feel. Did they even know that you were gone, unlikely to ever return to your home again? 

“Would it make you feel better if I told you my name?” The faerie says softly, breaking you from your train of thought. Your head whips up at that, your eyes wide in surprise as you take in his slumped over form. He looks childlike in the moment, with his pout and downcast eyes, despite the sinewy muscles you make out through the sheer fabric of his tunic. 

Faeries sharing their names, their true names, is something sacred. It gives the user a sort of power over them, the ability to control and manipulate however one sees fit. They do not pass out their names often, and when they do, it is a huge sign of respect and submission. 

“You would do that?” You ask him quietly, scooting forward until your knees brush against each other, hesitantly reaching for his hand. Its cold against your own, soft and clammy in the center. You have just met—does he know what kind of power he’s giving you, a mere human, supposedly his mate, by entrusting you with his name? 

“Satoru.” He says, gently, the word a whisper that carries through the stale air of the room. You suck in a deep breath, tilting your head at him—at Satoru—in astonishment. The softness of the name fits him, his unblinking eyes and wide gaze, the gentle slope of his nose, the curve of his top lip, the jut of his sharp chin. 

“Thank you.” You say truthfully, squeezing his hands in both of yours, feeling a little less intimidated at the seconds pass by. Satoru only smiles at you, gentle, the makings of a dimple deepening in his right cheek. He takes you in, waiting for you to command him to do something evil, wicked, to let you go and sever your mating bond with the use of his true name. 

But you only sit there in amazement, taking all of him in as if its your first time seeing him tonight. It makes him swallow thickly, the vulnerability of your gaze eating away at him. He speaks when the seconds tick on for entirely too long. 

“Now, have some wine. It’ll help you feel better.” Satoru murmurs, pulling his hand from yours, albeit hesitantly, and stretching it to the corner of the room beside him. You watch as a silver chalice seems to materialize out of nowhere, floating on the wind in the room that you hadn’t felt seconds beforehand, before it nestles in the grip of his palm. He offers the wine to you, and without a second thought, do you drink it. 

It’s too late when you realize that this wine isn’t like the other drinks you had at the festivities, of what you may now think of as your engagement party. The thought makes you giggle, before you slap a hand over your mouth, confusion bleeding on your face. You smack your lips together, and suddenly the taste of the wine that lingers isn’t enough. You have to finish all of it—now. 

You tip your head back, taking in gulps of the wine. Your brain yells at you to stop, warns you that something isn’t right, but you can’t listen to it right now. You have to finish, have to consume all of the wine that seemingly goes on forever and ever, the bottom of the cup never reaching the twinkle of your eye. It tastes like heaven; it tastes like ambrosia; a mix of lavender and dewy grass on a spring morning; a mix of the suns rays itself; a mix of the moon’s craters chiseled off and dumped into the cup; a mix of your mate’s kiss; of something otherworldly. 

The wine runs down your neck in rivulets that you cannot stop yourself from spilling. But your mate—gods, how that sounds so good, suddenly—cleans you up with a flick of his tongue against the spilling nectar. Your head tips back until it rests on your shoulders, your throat bobbing with every gulp until the chalice runs empty. Only then, do you sit forward, gasping for air, a buzz underneath your flesh, lingering in your skin, makes you feel—ethereal. 

“Why,” you start, smacking your lips as you heave in and out for breaths. “Why do I feel this way? Why does the wine make me feel like this, now?”

Satoru already knows what you mean, and grins against the column of your throat. He scoops you easily into his lap, where you straddle his thighs, sitting on your knees before you collapse into a heap onto his chest. Your body grows hot, your head fuzzy, a smile unable to fall from your face as your arms wrap loosely around his broad shoulders. There’s a buzz in your lower stomach, makes you feel almost a physical pull to your mate—your mate—as you whimper low in your throat. 

“Did you ever fill your own cup?” He purrs, pulling you away from the crook of his neck so that he can really see you now. Your face is flushed, your lips already swelling from the contents of the wine, ready to be kissed and nipped and licked until the wine runs from your system. Your eyes grow hazy with every passing second, and he can smell the arousal starting to pool between your thighs. You look embarrassed for only a second, before that dopey smile creeps back onto your face the longer you look at him—your mate. 

“At the ceremony, after I was crowned, I was told that my mate, a human, would find their way into the midst of our gathering.” Satoru tells you, laying back on the bed, softly, slowly, like some snake charmer goading you into its hold. You go willingly, feeling a burning sensation low in your belly, the primal part of your brain telling you that its something only your mate can fix. You wriggle on the soft sheets, suddenly burning up, suddenly needing all of your clothes off and away from you, suddenly needing to feel your mate’s skin against your own, his flesh between your teeth. 

“And to keep my mate from doing anything foolish, from ruining their purity with other creatures, only human-safe wine and food would be served.” Satoru’s voice is akin to a purr, his smile sharp. You let him undress you, help him pull the dress from over your head, your stockings from your legs, your undergarments from your sticky skin until you lay bare in front of him. He licks his lips at the sight of you, of your human flesh, so easy to corrupt, so easy to tear into. But he’s gentle where he presses kisses against your navel, travels down, down, down, until his lips hover where you need him most. 

“Kiss me there,” you plead for him, your body feeling scorched, engulfed in invisible flames that only he can lick away. Satoru hums at you, ever a loving mate, and follows your very command. He kisses you at the apex of your cunt, your clit throbbing almost painfully from the softness of his mouth. You keen, high in your throat, your back already arching from the bed, your nails tangled in the wispiness of his fluffy hair. 

“And once the sun rose,” Satoru whispers against your drooling lips, licking the wetness there with a flick of his tongue. “And the human stayed and danced and sung with my people, then it would be official; you would become my mate.” 

Its hard trying to keep up with what he says when the flames from inside of you only seem to alight more when he nuzzles his nose against the hair on your mound. You push his head to your hole, whimpering low in your throat when he laughs softly at your antics. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, angling your hips this way and that, desperate for him to kiss your clit again. And he does—presses kiss after kiss until his tongue comes out to play, until his lips suction around the swollen bud and you can’t help the cry that rips from your throat at the overwhelming feeling. 

“I gave you the faerie wine, just to help calm you down, you know?” Satoru hums, resting his cheek against your inner thigh, as he teases the pad of his finger against your dripping hole. You try to fuck yourself down on it, but he pulls away with a little tut, making your eyes water. 

“Please,” you whimper, looking down the length of your body at Satoru, who blinks big, oceanic eyes up at you, almost innocently. But you can see the way that his mouth curls up into a grin at the sight of your teary eyes, almost as if in anticipation of how much he could break you before you would beg. 

He eases a finger inside of you, eyes eating up the way your mouth drops open and your eyes flutter shut all the while. He kisses the apex of your thighs, before lightly flicking the tip of your clit with his tongue. He curls his finger inside of you, softly stroking the wetness of your walls, feels how you clamp down so tightly around him. He groans, his mouth vibrating against your skin as you throw your head back with the softest moan he thinks he’s ever heard. 

He rushes you to your orgasm, after that, done with the teasing, ready to solidify your bonds as mates. Satoru curls in a second finger, wraps hungry lips around your clit and licks you at the same time his fingers abuse that soft spot inside of you. You don’t know how he found it so easily, when the boys in your village never could after hours of trying, but you think you may understand why he’s your mate now. He works you as if this isn’t his first time touching you, tasting you, unraveling you on his mouth and fingers until your back arches from the bed, and you’re crying out from the pleasure. 

You cum around his fingers, walls tightening around him, clit pulsing steadily as you gasp for breath. Satoru doesn’t release you until you push at his head, whining from the overstimulation, and yet still so greedy to feel him inside of you. He pulls his fingers from your soft hole, sucks the nectar of your cunt from his fingers, his eyes fluttering shut, white lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he moans at the taste of you. 

He doesn’t have to pull you up before you’re on him, standing on your knees in front of him as you pull his mouth to your own. He kisses you, fervent and hungry, and you meet him with such intense fervor, that you’re not sure where your body ends and his begins. Your hands cradle his nape, and you can feel the rigidness of his cock brushing against your naked stomach. You grab his hand in your own, sucking the lingering taste of you from beneath his nails, from the grooves of his fingerprints, earning you a deep groan from the bass of his throat. 

He pulls away from you, breathless, and in the blink of an eye, his clothes disappear from his body. You take all of him in; the milkiness of his skin, the scars that decorate his chest and torso, the pinks of his pert nipples, the hard plane of his stomach, his long cock that stands at attention, the tip angry and red and leaking where it swipes against your skin. 

“I want you.” You tell him, unsure if the wine is still in your system, or if the pretty specimen in front of you overrides your senses that much. Satoru only grins, humming under his breath as he pulls you onto him, falling onto the sheets and the pillows behind him. You straddle him once more, his cock pressed between your bodies, and you can feel the heat radiating from the shaft. 

“Then take me.” Satoru whispers, his eyes half lidded, large, warm hands resting on the swell of your hips. He doesn’t guide you, merely holds onto your body as you position yourself over his cock. You swipe the head over your cunt a few times, mixing your wetness with his precum, your eyes fluttering at the sensation. His tip kisses your clit, and you can’t help but lean forward and take his mouth as you start to sit on his cock. 

Its thick, you think to yourself as you gasp against his mouth, feeling it split you open second by second. You don’t stop yourself, determined to feel all of him inside of you, desperate to be full of your mate, to have his tip kiss your womb, to be one with him. Satoru groans against your lips, his nails biting into your skin as you sink lower and lower, until your hips meet his own, the curliness of your pubes resting against his fluffy white ones. 

“My mate,” you whisper against him, head rolling at the thought of everything that happened tonight. Just hours ago, you were a regular human, doing your everyday chores, settling for human boys who would never truly love you. And now—and now you sit on the Faerie King’s cock, kissing him with such fervor, that drool slides from the corners of your mouth to pool in the divot of his throat. 

“Mine,” Satoru groans against you, unable to help himself from bucking inside of you when you sit for too long. You move, slowly, dipping your head down to watch how your lips try to swallow the thickness of him when you pull out, only to nestle him inside of you when you sit back down. You repeat the motion, watching how his hips shift this way and that from the slow pace, his thighs trembling when you clench around him. 

When you start to gain your rhythm, do you begin to pick up the pace, just a little. Its torturous for Satoru, but he thinks having you on top of him would drive him crazy, anyway. He holds onto you, his mouth gaping as he sucks in breath after breath, trying to keep from overwhelming you and taking over how he so pleased. You reach forward and swipe your tongue against his teeth, making his lips grit as he growls under his breath. 

“I know humans can be a little finicky about consummating their bonds, especially in front of other people.” Satoru says suddenly, holding you still when you sit back down on his cock again. He grinds himself inside of you, makes you whimper as your eyes flutter shut, biting at your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud. But he pulls your lip from your teeth with his thumb, desperate to hear just how good he feels inside of you. 

“It’s why I gave you the wine,” he confesses, pulling you close to him until your chest rubs against his own, burying his face into your throat as you throw your head back. He keeps a slow grinding rhythm inside of you, sneaks a hand down to fondle your clit between lithe fingers, before you feel a grin sneak onto his face. 

“To ease into this.” Suddenly, the quiet of the room is replaced by the sounds of laughter and music and—and moans. Your head whips around behind you, finding yourself seated on the dais once more at the ceremony for you and your mate. You begin to feel panic arising in you, but Satoru eases a hand down the curve of your spine, seemingly putting you under that same trance that the wine had with just the touch of his skin. 

As you start to look around the festivities, sure that you two would be the focus of the night, you find that the other partygoers are a little too…preoccupied with their own activities. The party has devolved into an orgy, it seems, and it hits you why your parents never wanted you to party with the forest creatures when you were a teenager. You would plead that the previous King had forbade the Folk from doing any kind of physical harm to humans, but you realize now, that they weren’t afraid of you being eaten or maimed. 

“It shows unity, between our people,” Satoru suddenly speaks up in your ear, nipping at the lobe when your attention strays from him for entirely too long. You watch as an orc throws his head back while four different pixies jerk him off at the same time, their bodies too tiny to do it alone. You switch to the nymph bent over a table of food, being pleasured by a Dryad whose back hunches with every thrust. You watch the black haired faerie from earlier, who winks at you when you look to him, sitting alone and touching himself as he watches you and his new king. It makes your face burn. 

“As the new King fucks his mate, his people fuck each other, to show that they approve, that there will be no hostility, that they will listen like the good Folk that they are.” Satoru hums, takes the initiative to hold you by the cheek so that you can give him all of your attention. He’s greedy like that, but you don’t seem to mind. 

Instead, you dive in for another kiss, let him lift your hips and drop you down on his cock until your ass smacks against the muscles of his thighs. It creates a resounding smack that echoes through the forest, even louder than the orgy that goes on behind you. You seem to forget about everything, everybody, except for you mate in front of you, inside of you. 

“Mate,” you repeat for the nth time tonight, holding him close around his shoulders as you lick along the openness of his mouth. Satoru groans, his arms wrapped tight around you, smothering, as he plants his feet on the cold marble of his throne. He pistons his hips inside of you, holding you still, as he leans forward to bite the expanse of your throat. You cry out as he breaks the skin, gripping his hair tight in between your fists until you’re sure you’ve ripped out a few strands. 

But he doesn’t mind, lets you use him and bite him and scratch at him until you’re tipping over the edge, crying out in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. Satoru fucks you through it, cooing softly when your head tips back, and your body goes taut in his grip. He holds you tight to him, ripping sharp teeth from your flesh, angling your head to his so that he can kiss you with a bloodied mouth. 

And you let him, moaning and crying against him as he uses you, uses your body, your cunt to help him reach his own high. Satoru stills, releasing a shaky groan against your red mouth, spilling his release inside of you with long, thick spurts. It leaks from inside of you, spills from around your swollen lips to his heavy balls, slides down the throne and onto the marble dais beneath you. It flows and flows until it mixes into the grass, and with heavy eyes, do you look over your shoulder, and find that black haired faerie dipping his fingers into it. 

He swipes up the mixture of you and Satoru’s cum, popping it into his mouth, maintaining eye contact all the while. It makes you shiver, and you can feel your mate’s cock throb inside of you at the sight, at the feeling of your cunt pulsating around him. 

“That’s my courtier, Getou,” Satoru whispers against the roundness of your cheek, stroking your cunt softly with his fingers. It makes you shiver, watching as the courtier nods his head to you before slipping away into the rest of the festivities. “I’m sure he would like to make your acquaintance very soon.”

And by the tone of his voice, you’re sure that Satoru isn’t the only faerie you’ll become close with in your time here. 

thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/likes/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! <3

[awkwardlyfangirly]

hiya!! I had a request for a fic?? Maybe flustered Casey jr x Y/N crush 👀💕

omgosh yeah-ima-nerd i love ur art!! I don't have much experience writing for casey but i GAVE IT A SHOT lol hope u like!

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rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Casey Jr. x female reader

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They’re at Walmart throwing must-have present-time snacks and treats into the cart, shoving brightly colored crinkly packages in front of Casey’s face.

“These are the best!!�� Mikey shouts, tossing a hard box of cookies into the cart. Casey smiles at him and glances around.

The light in the store is harsh and glaring, not like anything he’s used to from back home. Back in his own time. The air is artificial and the humans are calm and free and pick quietly at the shelves of plentiful food and it’s all so strange. It’s all so strange.

“Casey?” He feels April’s hand on his upper arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m good.”

He scratches at his chin and looks around again. No one is paying him a second thought. No one is paying any of them a second thought.

He feels cold. He’s wearing a jacket and long pants; he’s completely covered; but the coldness of this time seeps into his bones. It permeates him. He’s cold, cold, cold, always.

“These are a must-have treat!” Donnie tells him, gently placing another package of food into the cart. Casey smiles. He’s getting dizzy.

“I think I’m going to go get some fresh air,” he tells April, and she shoots him a thumbs-up.

The air outside doesn’t help much. It’s clogged up and cold and it burns his throat and lungs and he coughs and tries to breathe through the filter of his sleeve.

Sometimes he misses his own time. Sure, the world was ending and he lived in constant fear of the destruction of himself and everything and everyone he loved and he had to make do with limited food options but it was familiar and it was home. Now he’s… here. Wherever this is. Whenever this is. And his family will never, ever exist again. They’re gone forever.

And, much to his dismay, he starts crying in front of the Walmart.

He’s tucked up in a little corner, the sidewalk below him coated with black spots and debris, and he’s surrounded by cold stone instead of warm biogrowth and his entire family is gone and dead and erased and he’s angrily wiping tears from his eyes in front of the Walmart.

He hates this jacket. He hates these clothes. He hates his soft conditioned hair and his clean scrubbed skin. He hates these cold stones and the litter all around him and the oblivious humans just going about their lives like half of them weren’t Krang slaves in his own timeline. And he hates this stupid time and this stupid city and this stupid grocery store and the stupid snacks going in the stupid cart and the stupid stupid stupid everything everything stupid and he’s so mad and furious and guilty and he’s sucking in his breath tight and wiping his eyes faster and faster.

Suddenly he hears someone quietly approach him, their feet tapping on the concrete, and he squeezes his hands into fists and tries to wish them away.

“Hey,” the someone says, crouching down in front of him, “hey, hey, you good? You okay?”

He ignores her. Maybe she will go away if he ignores her. (Also he can’t speak. His throat is squeezed shut and he’s busy punching tears out of his eyes with his own two hands.)

“Look,” she says, “I get that you might want to be alone right now. And that’s okay. I’ll respect that. But I also know that you have to be at a pretty low point in your life to cry in front of Walmart. That’s like having a mental breakdown at a Denny’s. Pretty sad thing to do. So yeah. You good, bro?”

Ugh. She won’t leave until he addresses her. He grits his teeth. “Leave me alone. I’m great. I’m doing awesome. I just hate everything about this stupid place and I want to go home but my home sucks and it doesn’t even exist anymore, anyways. I’m stuck here. And I’m always cold.”

He feels her sit down next to him, back against the stone wall. He turns his face away, still swiping at his eyes and nose.

She pokes against his hand. He looks down sharply. She’s holding a packet of tissues out to him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking it and blowing his nose.

“Sorry you’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah. Me too.” He rubs at his left temple, right where he gets the headaches. It’s starting to throb.

She rummages in her purse and pulls out a shooter marble.

“Here,” she says, holding it out to him.

He stares at it.

“Whenever I really feel stressed or sad or bad,” she says, “I just kinda… roll it between my fingers. And focus on it, and how it looks. And it usually helps me calm down. I don’t know,” she says, embarrassed, her fingers twitching around the marble, “if you don’t want it, that’s okay, I just --”

Casey cups his hands, and she lets the marble roll into them.

“There ya go,” she says, awkwardly. “I hope it helps you. Sorry again, about your home. And being stuck. I’m really sorry.” She stands up with an oof and brushes off the seat of her pants. “Bye.”

She goes into the Walmart, and Casey rubs the marble between his thumb and forefinger and watches the light filter through it.

By the time his new family walks back out, their arms laden with plastic bags and snacks, he’s breathing evenly again. His eyes are dry and his nose is still runny and he’s thinking clearly again. He’s hungry, and his feet hurt.

“There he is!” April says as soon as she sees him. “I got worried about you!”

He smiles and pushes himself back up to his feet. “I’m so hungry. Let’s get home and try some of these snacks, eh??”

//

He has the marble in his pocket, always, and when it’s late at night and his mind is pelted with Leo’s last words and Mikey’s last look and the taste of roasted rat meat, he takes out the marble and feels its solid coolness in his hands.

He can’t stop thinking about her. Marble Girl. She sat down next to him and handed him tissues. Marble Girl. He can’t stop thinking about the random kindness she showed him.

Raph notices the marble one day.

“Hey, Casey,” he says, squinting at it, “what is that?”

“A marble.” Casey holds his hand flat and lets Raph look at it.

“Oh, pretty! Where’d you get it?”

“Someone gave it to me,” he says.

He can feel something. Heat, in his cheeks, on his neck. Persistent heat.

Leo leans over the table and gasps. “Ooh, he’s blushing -- Casey! Was it a girl?!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The heat deepens, spreads.

“Ahhh!” Leo crows. “I’m right! I’m RIGHT! Who is it?? What’s her name?? Do we know her?? How did you meet?? Wha --”

“Buzz off, Nardo!” Donnie cuts in, shoving Leo away from Casey with one of his mechanical arms. He immediately drops his voice. “Do you want me to run a background check on her? You can never be too sure these days. Even April started working with the Foot Clan once. Sure, it was an accident and she didn’t know any better, but --”

“You’re embarrassing him!” Casey hadn’t even noticed Mikey walk into the room, but here he was, tugging on Donnie’s arm. “Leave him alone! Look at how red he is!”

The brothers fall silent and stare at Casey.

“Oh my gosh,” Raph says. “He’s almost as red as me!!”

He holds the tails of his bandana up against Casey’s cheek. “See?”

“Whoa!! Is it hot to the touch?” Leo scampers over, pressing his cold scaly fingers against Casey’s neck. Casey yelps and swats him away. “Please! Please let me touch your red human skin!!”

Casey feels like he’s on fire.

.//

They’ve left him alone after that, for the most part, not really teasing him too badly about his ‘crush on the girl who gave him the marble.’ But he walks into the lair one day and they’re all clustered around the kitchen table and they look up and over at him with mischievous, mischievous grins, and he stops in his tracks -- what do they have up their sleeves today?

“Guys?”

They all step back, revealing Marble Girl, sipping a juice box at the kitchen table.

She waves and giggles, her cheeks nearly as red at his.

Casey feels his mind short-circuit.

“We found her for you!!” Leo grins and throws out his arms, framing Marble Girl for Casey.

“Hii,” she says. “Glad to see you’re not currently crying.”

He can feel his heart in his cheeks. Thumping.

Mouth open. No words.

“Talk to him more!!” Leo encourages. “He’s just shy!!”

She glances at the mutant turtles surrounding her, staring intensely at her and Casey. “Um -- wanna go grab a coffee?”

//

They sit outside. The air is frigid, sharp against their faces. But Casey doesn’t feel cold. He feels warm. In his face, in his bones. Just warm.

She sips her coffee and smiles at him.

“I like your hair,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says back, and his voice squeaks.

He coughs.

She giggles.

“So you liked the marble?”

“I like the marble.”

She sips at her drink.

He bites at his nails.

He can feel that fire on his cheeks and his neck again.

“So, um, what’s your name?”

“(Y/n),” she says, and smiles, and reaches out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, forcing his most-composed smile. “Casey.”

He grabs her hand. It’s soft, and warm, and he feels himself blush even harder, harder.

Oh no. She notices. She sees it.

He quickly gulps some drink and rests his chin in his hands, trying to cover up the red. His heart is pounding, his face red, his fingers trembling. She’s looking at him. Sweet, sweet Marble Girl -- Y/n -- is looking at him, directly and personally, from across the tiny table.

She folds her hands under her chin and stares him in the eyes.

He glances away and clears his throat, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously.

“What conditioner do you use?” she asks. “And where are you from?”

“Hmm?”

“Conditioner,” she says. “You have shiny fluffy hair.”

“No, no, um --”

“Where you’re from? Yeah, yeah, where you’re from. You said your home was gone. …Agh, that’s probably too personal, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I --”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay. Um. Yeah, it’s a little hard to believe, but I’m actually from…” he lowers his voice mysteriously “...the future.”

“The what?”

“The future.”

“Ooh! Good one.”

“No. I’m serious. I’m from the future. Well -- a future that no longer exists.”

“What? Really?” She’s staring at him, eyes wide and curious.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, given that your entire family is giant turtles, that isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve encountered today.” She laughs.

Casey smiles at her, softly. Gosh, he feels warm. The air is nipping at his nose and he just feels warm.

“So,” she says, leaning forward and wrapping her hands around her cup, “tell me: how did you get here? How did a boy from the future end up in modern-day NYC?”

She’s looking right at him, right right at him, and his heart is thumping in his ears.

He can’t talk for a moment, his brain buzzing out of commission for a few seconds.

“Hey? Earth to Casey?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, finally, surprised by the sudden sound of his voice. “Sorry. It’s just really hard for me to think when you look at me.”

“Ooh.” Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh my gosh,” he says, his cheeks darkening. “Oh my gosh.”

They just stare at each other for a second, their faces red, their eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Casey mumbles, blushing harder and harder.

And Y/n just covers her face with her hands and giggles and giggles.

[samanthamarkle92]

New chapter everyone! Lots of fluff! Shout outs for: @johnnymactavishlover @johnnymactavish @redravenarts @nsharks @shadow0-1 @deadbranch @salbei-141 @thiswomanhasissues @loonyundead @codfanzine @cravingcoldoreocake123 @ilovehotchocolate @sofasoap @loneghostwolf @mistyresolve @islenthatur @bittersw33t-lotus @m0chac0ffee @fictional-men-have-my-heart @ghostslillady @ghosts-bandwagon @soapxmactavish @mactavishwritings @sleepyconfusedpotato @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @halcyone-of-the-sea @rileyslibrary @ghostkinnie @mctvsh @macravishedbymactavish @mistydeyes @cowyolks @ave661 @clownfishenthusiast @lunarw0rks @summermoonshine @lundenloves @glossysoap @cheezbites @xintothewoodswegox @sighmurderbot @wolfieisacat @1-ker0sene-1 @oniiloma @castleninja @ghostslittlegf @fastleopard1521 @saltofmercury @blingblong55

If I missed anyone, feel free to tag others and reblog!

Chapter 10

He woke up to the sun filtering through the curtains. He blinked twice, trying to adjust his vision. He felt a soft warm breath against his neck and turned his head slightly, feeling the softness of Katie's head on his shoulder. He grinned, watching her sleeping peacefully. He brushed her hair away from her face gently. She stirred, and he kissed her naked shoulder. Her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Good morning." He crooned softly, smiling down at her.

"Mmm...good morning." She murmured, smiling sleepily up at him. He kissed her cheek,  then her lips.

"We should get some food in you," he said as he pulled the comforter up higher around her. 

"Sounds good." She smiled.

He made pancakes with the blackberries they brought back from Scotland. It was an amazing breakfast. It was  fluffy and delicious. She devoured her plate, licking at every crumb until it was empty. He laughed. She beamed at him happily.

“What do you want to do today?” He asked as she drank her milk.  She paused, and wiped her mouth on a napkin.

“I think we should go shopping,” she said.

“Okay, let's get cleaned up...up for a double shower?” he teased, wrapping her in a hug.

They showered together and got dressed in fresh clothes, heading outside. They strolled to the park, hand in hand. There wasn't anyone else in the park except a group of children playing in the sandbox. Katie laughed at the kids's antics. 

“Wait until you meet my nieces and nephews.” He smiled, chuckling. “God, they're adorable! You’ll love them!” she chuckled with him. He stopped walking, letting go of her hand. “Hey,” he said softly, catching her attention.

She turned to face him, looking at him curiously.

“You ever think about having kids?” He asked. She tilted her head, thinking about his question.

"Hopefully someday..." she thought for a moment. He nodded in agreement.

“Me too,” he said. “But right now… I just wanna spend time with you.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

A little smile crept upon her face. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him close. He hugged her tightly. “I love you, Katie.”

“I love you too.” 

There walked around a little longer, enjoying the fresh air. After a while, they went home. They cuddled on the couch,  Katie resting her head on his broad chest. She closed her eyes, listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat. The only thing on her mind at the moment was how much she wanted to stay home with him forever. This man had become her world; she would never know what she’d do without him. And if she had to leave him, she didn't know what she’d do, either. As he stroked her hair she sighed softly.

“What is it?” He smiled, glancing down at her.

“Nothing,” she smiled at him, relaxing into his embrace.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m just worried about the trial...will we have to go through it again? Will we be able to stay here?” She looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with sadness and fear.

“If you don't want to testify again, then we won't have to. We can move out and start a new life...away from this place. Away from all these memories. Away from this nightmare. I’ll stay enlisted, and you can lay low until you're ready for a new job. We can stay here in England, or we can go to Scotland to be closer to my family. Whatever you choose…we'll figure it all out together.”

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She closed her eyes, leaning in for another kiss. They ordered some Chinese take-away for dinner, eating on the couch and watched movies. It was late when they decided to go to bed. They snuggled together,  falling asleep almost instantly.

John awoke early the next morning. Katie was still sound asleep next to him. He smiled, looking down at her. She looked so peaceful and content. He moved her hair away from her face, brushing it gently with his finger. He kissed her temple lightly, watching her face intently. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she moaned softly. He smiled, watching her sleep. He ran his fingers through her hair, caressing her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. She opened her eyes, gazing up at him.

“Morning,” she smiled.

“Morning,” he replied, letting her rest her head on his chest. He held her tight against him, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his rough hands.

She reached up, pulling him down by his tshirt, gazing intensely at his handsome face.

“I love you.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

“I love you too.” He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose.

She giggled quietly, stretching and getting out of bed. He sat up, following suit. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“Want some breakfast, bonnie?” he asked. She nodded, pecking his cheek.

“Breakfast sounds great.” Katie answered, squeezing hishand. He smiled, kissing her softly.

They ate in silence, occasionally making small talk. They were stuck at home, so they binge-watched some movies and Katie made a batch of brownies for dessert. She made her go-to comfort food; grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Bonnie, if you keep cooking like this, I’m going to be very out of shape. You need to cut back on the carbs.” Johnny said, taking a bite of a sandwich.

She nodded, swallowing.

“Let me know if you want me to make anything specific; I love to try new recipes.” She said, smiling shyly.

He shook his head, giving her a quick kiss on her lips.

“You ’re too cute,” he murmured.

She smiled at him, cheeks turning rosy. He leaned towards her, brushing his lips across hers gently. Their lips parted after a few moments, and he rested his forehead against hers. She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, loving how bright they appeared under the sunlight streaming through the windows. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the rest of her life. If she was honest with herself, her happiness couldn’t possibly be more complete than it currently was.

[beyondspaceandstars]

“We Go Way Back”

Relationship: Yelena Belova x Reader Warnings: angst, attitude, possible vague Black Widow spoilers Summary: Your and Yelena's date night takes an unexpected turn when a surprise guest shows up at your shared apartment. A/N: So. I saw Black Widow on thursday....i loved SO much.......maybe even found a new comfort character..........and now here we are :) please enjoy

Masterlist

You were just finishing up dinner when two arms snaked around your waist. You giggled, staring down at the sautéed vegetables, as you leaned into your girlfriend’s touch.

"Smells good," she mumbled against your neck. Light kisses were beginning to litter your skin.

You sighed. "Thank you, love," you said, giving everything a final stir before turning off the burners. You went to start carrying items to the table, thinking your girlfriend would let up on her hold on you, but that ended up not being the case.

With a joyous laugh, you playfully scolded her, "Yelena, please," you smiled. "Do you want to eat or not?"

She hummed. Her hands drifted now to your sides and began creeping their way to your hips and thighs. "Depends on what you had in mind."

You let out a faux surprised gasp. "You’re shameless." You shook your head and peeled her hands away from you. She let out a little defeated sigh but you just shot her a playful look and continued with your initial mission of setting the dining table.

Thankfully, this time, Yelena lent a helping hand as opposed to lending her hands…elsewhere. The latter was a common occurrence, especially before date night dinners, such as ones like these. There had been one too many meals you were forced to reheat everything after you let Yelena get carried away.

After the food was placed — a nice spread of local meats, fresh produce, and bakery bread — you began working on getting plates and cutlery. Yelena had taken it upon herself to start breaking out the wine. She brought out two bottles you had just bought that morning based on the recommendation from the butcher. You maybe took cooking and dinners a bit too seriously, hoping everything was right especially when it was for your love.

You set out the cutlery just as Yelena finished pouring two (hefty) glasses of wine. You shot her a smile in thanks and began filling each of your plates. You did have to pat yourself on the back a bit, everything smelled wonderful.

Once you two had full plates and eager stomachs, you sat down and dug in. Yelena immediately let out an exaggerated moan as she practically devoured the meat. You blushed at her enthusiasm.

"This is wonderful, dear," Yelena praised and took a sip of her wine. "Very reminiscent of my momma’s cooking."

Your ears perked up at your girlfriend’s mention of her family. She did that every now and then, slip in random comments about them. You liked trying to explore it but knew the topic was a delicate one. You trod carefully.

"Yeah?" You asked, moving some vegetables around on your plate. "Did she cook a lot?"

Yelena shrugged. "We’d have dinners together, all of us, pretty much every night."

All of us. You had heard so far of a mother and a father but could there be more? Or were you reading too much into it?

Eventually, you settled on, "Family dinners sound very nice." That was enough, you thought. Just safe but still engaged. You eyed Yelena as she continued to eat. She hadn’t noticed you stalled or, well, she probably did, but wasn’t saying anything. You took large gulps of your wine, impulsively.

Just as your liquid courage was getting to you to maybe inquire further about your lover’s family, a hard knock at the front door disrupted the entire dinner. Both of your movements stopped abruptly. You looked between the door and your girlfriend.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked.

Yelena shook her head. Her fork dropped with a loud clang as she pushed away from the table. In quick, determined strides she collected the gun kept in the side table in the living room. You watched her, quite stunned by her response. You don’t think you ever actually saw any of her guns come into action. When you first moved in, she just explained they were a precaution. You never asked what kind of precaution. You feared you were getting your answer now as Yelena walked to the entryway.

Gun drawn, pointed dead on with the wooden door, she called out, "Who is it?"

"You can put the gun down." Surprisingly, that was a female voice answering your girlfriend’s demand. Your brows furrowed in curiosity. You watched for Yelena’s reaction but she was still so stoic and intense.

Yelena scoffed. "Are you sure?"

Probably a bit foolishly, you decided to chime in. "Love," you said, "is everything okay?"

The female on the other side of the door spoke again, this time with an element of shock in her voice. "Love?"

Yelena let out a dramatic sigh as she relaxed her stance and surrendered her gun, placing it on the little table in the foyer. What seemed to be a bit reluctantly, Yelena opened the door forcefully.

Despite the mystery woman finally being revealed, it answered approximately zero of your questions. There, in the doorway, stood a redhead whose unamusing expression mixed with a slight smugness matched your girlfriend’s. The two just stared at one another, neither dared to move, as if they were challenging one another to try it.

Curiosity finally getting the best of you, you stood from the dining table and slowly made your way to the front door. Your fingers fumbled in nervousness as you stepped with caution.

"Hi, there," you said with a weak smile and gentle wave. The redhead’s eyes flicked over to you only briefly. Still, you continued, "Are you alright? Do you need something?"

"Oh, do I."

Yelena shook her head. "The only thing she needs is to leave."

You turned to your girlfriend, "Who is she?"

"Natasha," the redhead explained. "Me and your love here," she nodded towards Yelena, "we go way back."

You didn’t know how she had the air in her but Yelena let out another ridiculous sigh and stomped away. Like some defeated child, she took her seat once more at the dining table. You had never seen her like this before, so unattached and dismissive. You wracked your brain on how to mend this.

You turned back to Natasha. "Please, come in." Natasha took the offer quite well and gave you a nod of thanks before entering the apartment. You followed her into the dining room.

"We were just starting dinner," you explained as you raced for the kitchen, grabbing Natasha her own set. "Sit, have some food."

Natasha mumbled a "thanks" as you began filling her plate now with food. You even offered up some wine despite Yelena’s weird look she shot you when you reached for it. You ignored her odd behavior and took your seat once more. Somehow, the tension from the situation just got worse. Neither woman was eating now.

You cleared your throat as you prepared to dig into your meal once more. "I hope it’s still warm. If not, I can pop everything in the oven to warm."

No one said anything.

"Alright then…" You shrugged. "If I may, how exactly do you two know each other?"

That was the question that opened the flood gates. Yelena turned to you abruptly. "She’s my sister."

"Sort of," the redhead quickly retorted.

Your jaw went slack. Your appetite completely abandoned you now as your interest was greatly piqued. "Your sister?" You asked and looked between the two women. Well, they didn’t really look alike…

"Not biologically," Yelena explained. "We just kind of…lived together for a while."

"I see," you nodded. You scraped your fork against your plate, awkwardly. "If I may again, what brings you here, Natasha?"

The question certainly made Yelena perk up as she stared down her sister — or, whatever they considered each other. You resisted the urge to grab her hand under the table, unsure of what level of affection she was comfortable showing in front of this woman.

"Some business to attend to." Short and sweet. You felt these two were definitely related on some level.

"This couldn’t have waited until the morning?" Yelena gritted.

Natasha shrugged. "I guess it could’ve but then, apparently, I would’ve missed out on this lovely dinner with you and your… your, what? Girlfriend?" She took a bite of food. "Hmm, tastes close to someone else’s cooking." A shrug. "Anyways, I didn’t know you dated."

"You don’t know a lot of things."

"Okay!" You explained, trying to salvage whatever was left of this civilized conversation. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before turning to your flustered state. "We’re very happy you dropped in, right, love?" You glanced at Yelena. "And you’re more than welcome to stay, Natasha. I’m afraid all we have to offer is the couch if that would be okay."

Natasha glanced behind you at the living room before nodding. "That would be great," she smiled.

***

It wasn’t until you were standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the dishes from dinner that Yelena approached you to talk. Natasha was off getting ready for bed and your girlfriend hopped on this opportunity.

"I’m so sorry," she said as she stood beside you, taking on the role of the dryer in your little dishwasher assembly line. "I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry she dropped by, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her—,"

"Love," you shook your head, giving her a sympathetic look, "it’s okay. I’m not really mad you didn’t tell me or that she’s here. From what I gather, it’s a complicated relationship."

Yelena let out an annoyed huff. "You have no idea." A beat. "But, still. I shouldn’t hide these things from you. She was a big part of my life and now you… you’re a big part of my life. It’s only fair."

Your heart warmed at her admission. She could be quite the affectionate one when she wanted to be. Quickly, you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She tried hiding her blush but failed beautifully.

"For what it’s worth, she seems very interesting," you shrugged. "I think she could be fun to get to know. Probably has a few embarrassing stories about you as a child."

Yelena gasped. "Don’t even think about it."

"Too late," you giggled, mentally marking that down as a subject for conversation. A brief silence passed over you two as you finished up with the dishes. Reaching the end of the chore, you said, "So, should I be on the lookout for any other siblings?"

Your girlfriend chuckled. "No," she admitted. "Natasha is it."

You let out a content hum in understanding. "One day we should have them all over."

"Them?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "your whole family. A nice, big family dinner. That could be exciting, right?"

Yelena rolled her eyes. Whether it was playful or not, you couldn’t quite tell. "That’s certainly one way to describe it."

[deepdarkdelights]

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview:  A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors ��� I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window. 

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow. 

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated. 

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods. 

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit. 

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious. 

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.   

If only you had known what was to come. 

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so. 

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move. 

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker. 

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first. 

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment. 

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen. 

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was. 

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over. 

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat. 

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room. 

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked. 

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself. 

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one. 

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands. 

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well. 

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes. 

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat. 

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner. 

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap. 

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste. 

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat. 

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door. 

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones. 

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well. 

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey. 

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied. 

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air. 

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you. 

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them. 

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated. 

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself  as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time. 

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you. 

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town. 

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold. 

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin. 

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety. 

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had. 

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed. 

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him. 

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had. 

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.  

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf. 

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while. 

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder. 

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable. 

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away. 

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself. 

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you. 

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath. 

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls. 

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place. 

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber. 

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more. 

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?” 

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash. 

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name. 

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made. 

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.” 

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form. 

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.” 

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried. 

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door. 

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.” 

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made. 

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting. 

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon. 

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth. 

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red. 

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees. 

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest. 

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home. 

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off. 

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly. 

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly. 

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them. 

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow. 

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you? 

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better. 

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people. 

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of. 

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience. 

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips. 

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace. 

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping. 

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat. 

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them. 

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice. 

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive. 

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight. 

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you. 

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other. 

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door. 

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother. 

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths. 

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders. 

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women. 

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more. 

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring. 

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots. 

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon. 

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills. 

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive. 

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather. 

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods. 

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop. 

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood. 

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one. 

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer. 

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever. 

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you. 

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice. 

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path. 

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you. 

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path. 

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said. 

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone. 

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?” 

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months. 

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds. 

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow. 

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket. 

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him. 

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you. 

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face. 

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound. 

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow. 

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar. 

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened. 

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it. 

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to. 

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door. 

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips. 

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter. 

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human. 

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you. 

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand. 

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess. 

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack. 

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!” 

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks. 

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist. 

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.” 

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth. 

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too. 

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon. 

And, without thinking, you ran. 

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees. 

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother. 

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather. 

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you. 

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location. 

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den. 

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths. 

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away. 

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood. 

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form. 

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him. 

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition. 

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection. 

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.” 

[wri0thesley]

omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

[marsbutterfly]

ymir x shy!reader

The Confident Girl's Delight

Summary: Ymir spends day and night teasing you so nobody will ever find out about your secrets meetings.

                                      Warning: NSFW!

                                           Wattpad! | AO3!

“Come on, Y/N” Ymir purrs, her fingers resting on your chin as she eagerly brings your eyes to hers.

The chilly breeze hits you but it is not the reason why your hands begin to shake. You desperately start to look for a way to escape her but her arms block any chances you might have.

“Stop it, Ymir.” You say, feeling as your cheeks burn hotter than the fiery pits of hell. You don’t mean it of course and she can tell by the tone of your voice.

“Do you really want me to?” She asks, placing her lips against your ear before biting your skin gently and you wonder how the hell did you find yourself in this situation.

It wasn’t unusual for Ymir to flirt with you, she did it as you were walking into the shower or even when you had some kind of food in your mouth. Her biggest delight was making your cheeks burn and you knew it.

Nothing too serious, always a compliment here, a smack on your ass there. You know if you ever told her to stop with a serious tone in your voice, she would listen without a second thought but the question was: did you want her to stop?

No.

The truth is that between training and Krista, receiving Ymir’s attention was a privilege not many people could have.

Of course, along with the flirting came a bit of teasing: about your accent from the interior of Wall Rose or the way your hair doesn’t stick to your ponytail for too long before turning into a mess.

During one uneventful night, you sat in the dining hall by yourself. The voices around you were loud and yet you somehow managed to tune them all out.

Your thoughts race through your mind, the images of Ymir’s sweaty face after exercising still fresh in your head. The drops of water that come from her bottle and drip down her abdomen contrast with the light from the candles.

Your face burns and you use your left hand to fan it, hoping to cool yourself down. You chug on the water as if your life depended on it.

Suddenly, you are pulled away from your thoughts when a pair of hands make their way down your shoulders stopping an inch away from your breasts. You gasp, knowing exactly who those hands belonged to.

You silently beg for her to never stop touching you but sadly she sits by your side taking a massive bite out of your apple.

“Why do you always eat my food?” You whisper while looking down at your nearly empty plate. You move your lips around, your fingers won’t stop fidgeting and you can’t quite breath anymore. Her face comes close to yours, too close.

“Because everything that comes from you is more delicious.” Ymir says, a smirk creeping on the corner of her lips.

“Ymir, leave her alone!” Krista says while pushing the taller one away from you. She can’t help but laugh at the state you find yourself in and you feel her fingers brush against your chin.

“Meet me in the closet by the Commander’s Office in one hour.” She says, pulling the petite, blonde girl alongside as they walk away towards the exit of the massive room.

You sigh, scared of what she could possibly want. But alongside the fear comes a brand new feeling: excitement.

The minutes go by slowly, almost as if the clock feels bad for you but eventually the time has come to face her in the closet.

The torches illuminate the otherwise dark hall and your steps echo quietly but to you it sounds much like a titan’s sprint after humans: ground shaking.

You knock on the door only to realize she isn’t there yet and a wave of relief washes over your body. Of course the feeling doesn’t last long since suddenly you feel Ymir’s hand on your back as she pushes you inside gently. In a more gentle manner than usual at least.

The lock clicks behind her and she pushes you against the wall, her arm wraps around your waist as she spins you around prompting you to face her. Her nose brushes against yours gently and you can’t hold back a little moan.

A delighted smile on her lips as she plants them on your neck, her hand moving up from your waist to your breasts underneath the shirt. When Ymir’s cold fingers brush against your nipple, you feel your heartbeat pulsating on your clit.

“I missed you.” She whispers before you feel the tip of her warm tongue tracing the outside of your ear. She pinches your skin and you cry out, squirming against her touch while silently pleading for more.

“I missed you too.” You say in response, your voice dying in your throat.

You cross your legs in hopes of keeping yourself from getting soaking wet but once Ymir’s hand enters your underwear, you are done for. You feel like at that moment you could melt faster than butter above fire.

“Ask for it, baby.” She says, her lips meeting yours for a split second before she resumes the attacks on your neck. Your body reacts to her actions immediately and you know the marks tomorrow will be bad.

“I…” You stutter quietly, “I want you to touch me.”

“Where? Here?” She asks, sliding two fingers inside of you barely in but deep enough to pull all the wetness you attempted so hard to keep locked in.

“Yes. Fuck.” You respond, digging your nails on her skin. Her now slippery fingers rub circles on your clit, dragging quiet sobs out of you.

“Oh to hear you curse is such a blessing.” She giggles and you hiss in response. “Hold onto me.”

You do as you are told, holding onto her for dear life in such a way not even a higher power would be able to bring you two apart. Her fingers slip past your clit making their way down towards your entrance. They slip in with ease and you gasp, biting Ymir’s shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.

With her free hand, she pulls your mouth away from her skin and brings it close to hers. She bits the right corner of her lips gently before going in for a sloppy kiss. The tip of her tongue brushes against yours as it asks for permission to deepen the action.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had a moment like this with Ymir, in fact she has fucked you in places you could never have imagined: during dinner with all the other soldiers around, in the showers after practice.

Ymir moves her fingers in and out gently while her thumb brushes circles on your clit. It doesn’t take long for her to find your g-spot and she takes full advantage of the situation presented to her.

Uncertain, you decide to be bold and with one of your hands you reach underneath her shirt. You can feel every little bit of her abs and you decide to stay there for a moment. Sweat drips down her skin as the room begins to feel stuffy.

Once you touch her breast, your hand shakes slightly as if you don’t know what to do from here on out. So she gently places her free hand above yours, never taking her fingers out from inside of you, in fact, she begins to speed up her actions.

“Squeeze it, like this.” She says, applying a bit of pressure to your hand. You do as you are told once again and your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Once she curls her fingers inside of you, it doesn’t take long for you to reach an orgasm. The tip of her middle and ring digits brush against your g-spot while her thumb never stops contact with your clit. She always knew exactly how to touch you to make you melt quickly so nobody would ever find you.

You moan against her lips, feeling as your body spasms and your legs close shut, her fingers still inside of you. It’s involuntary and you feel bad because you don’t want to hurt her but for once she doesn’t make a comment about how tight you are when you come so you simply stay quiet.

She pulls out from inside of you, gliding her wet fingers above your lips. You try to look away but in the end you open your mouth, tasting yourself on her skin. You make sure to lick it clean before she pulls it out, drying them on her shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” You ask with a bold expression on your face and she snorts.

“Sure.” She replies, planting one final kiss to your lips before opening the door. She looks over her shoulder one last time, shooting you a deadly smile and you can barely hear it but she says “I love you”. The air around you smells like your pussy and all you want to do is bury your face in a pillow, hoping no one would know where it came from.

After a few minutes, you exit the room only to find the hallway to be completely empty and you thank God for it. As you walk back to your room, you still dream of Ymir’s touch on your skin and how it feels good to have her undivided attention.

Once you pass through the doors to your dorm room, a voice enters your ears and someone’s hand grabs your ass.

“Why are you blushing, Y/N?” Ymir asks, knowing damn well she is the reason why. You don’t say a word and simply hurry to your bed, pulling the covers above your head.

Her words are still fresh in your mind, even if you didn’t get to say it back. “I love you.” First you think it’s because she is scared you won’t reciprocate her feelings, which is not the case but eventually you realize she left in such a hurry because she was trying not to embarrass you.

You hear Krista’s disapproving voice but the words are muffled. All you can make out of it is “Leave her alone.”

But Ymir will never leave you alone, she loves to tease you in every possible way and you are grateful for it. Even if it’s the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you.

[yoonia]

About Time // Part 20

➬ Character | Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 18,5k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | mentions of alcoholism, mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | This chapter took me forever to finish, but I’m glad that it’s finally out. I want to thank my girls, @randombtsprincessa and @softyoongiionly​ who have been hyping me out and yelling at me each time I came close to giving up and when I stop writing, and as always my second set of eyes, @theodea​. I hope you’ll enjoy this one as we slowly unravel the story between our characters. Please make sure not to miss the second note at the end of the chapter. Thank you!

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

Song Companion | Shah - Can't Leave You | Oleg Byonic - Wait For You

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

Subtle movements happening around me were the ones that had woken me up.

Whoever it was that had been moving around while I was still asleep, they had tried to do things stealthily, moving about carefully enough not to disturb my sleep.

But when a person had been stuck in one place for so long the way I did, their senses would easily become familiar to their surroundings the same way mine had. I didn’t need much to recognise the sounds that had been constantly happening around me, allowing me to identify the foreign ones when they appeared. I would be able to feel every movement, be it from any unanimated object or simply random movements that took place, and I could sense the changes in the air around me as it happened. So it was easy for me to catch their presence even before I had my eyes opened when they kept on moving, the low thud of their footsteps and the things they were moving around followed each move they made.

And then there were also the scents. It was his cologne that allowed me to recognise him without me seeing him. And it was a good thing too, because it allowed my heartbeat to settle down from its frantic pace and prevent me from waking up in fear, startled to find a random stranger invading my space.

I finally opened my eyes slowly. He was nothing but a blurry blob of a person moving around my room when I looked at him through my bleary eyes. The way he was still pacing back and forth around the bedside drawers told me that he had yet to realise that I was awake. So I continued watching him, blinking my eyes until the sight of him gradually grew clearer and I was finally able to see just what he was doing in my hospital room.

Of course, cleaning up my mess would be the first thing he would do the moment he got here, I wondered with a smile.

This man could never settle with a messy space. He could not even settle in patience without finding something to do, no matter how often he would complain or whine whenever he felt like he had been doing too many things at once.

I barely moved when Yoongi reached out to grab a bouquet of fresh flowers that had been left on top of the small table near the doorway. It looked new, and I had no recollection of seeing it before I fell asleep after my treatment this morning, so it must have arrived just a while ago. I saw Yoongi opening the card that came with it and tutted to himself, muttering low as he shook his head.

The moment I realised what he was saying, I could no longer stay silent. “Bastard? Did the sender really sign the card with that name?”

My voice seemed to startle Yoongi that he nearly jumped. He turned with his hand on his chest, looking almost ghastly grey that quickly faded when he chuckled. “Fucking hell, you scared me,” he said, tossing the flowers away. Though they only landed back not so gracefully on the table instead of into the trashcan placed on the floor right beside it, where he was probably aiming to throw them in before I caught him.

“Sorry,” I said, pushing myself up from the bed the best I could to sit upright while he handed me a glass of water and helped me drink. As I drank, my chest felt hollow. I had been in this place for too long that this simple gesture had become some sort of a routine. And that he had become so familiar with everything that he knew easily just what I needed. It made me feel relieved to have him with me, but I felt the guilt gnawing inside me just the same.

I hated feeling miserable and weak. And I hated it more to see the pitying look he gave me as he read me so easily. “Have you been here long?” I asked him before he ever had a chance to bring it up. Because there was no way he didn't notice it when he had grown used to my moods already. Thankfully, Yoongi had chosen not to say a thing about my condition and only shrugged.

“Not really,” he looked around, rubbing the back of his head as he followed my eyes to see the things he had been tidying up before I woke. “I wasn’t sure if it was alright to wake you up, so I tried to find some things to do while I waited. Sorry if I woke you up.”

I waved him off. “No, you didn’t. It’s just time for me to wake up. It’s almost lunchtime,” I told him, not that I was excited for lunch in any way. Not when I was not completely capable of eating properly. The blisters on my lips and inside my mouth had been increasing rapidly that I couldn’t taste anything without feeling pain. It had been coming and going, sometimes getting better after getting some vitamins or once I began drinking all those herb drinks Kara had been making for me. But whenever they came back, they always left me feeling miserable. And terribly hungry.

And hunger made me feel even more miserable.

If Yoongi had noticed the discomfort look I was making just by thinking about the food, he showed none of it. But he did scrunch his nose and gave a distasteful scoff. “You’re actually excited for the hospital food? Man, you’ve been here for too long.”

I scoffed. “Nope, I’m just excited for their pudding,” I said, without bothering to elaborate the fact that it would probably be the only thing I could manage to eat.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head almost too dramatically. “I was hoping that I could steal your pudding while you eat.”

I knew that he was only trying to make me feel better, but that was enough to have me laughing. But only for a short while, because any kind of tension happening on my torso gave me pain. As I winced, my eyes fell on the flowers he left behind. It was not hard to recognise them. Jungkook had known me for a long time to remember just what kind of flowers I loved most, and he had gotten me the same kinds ever since we had been together.

Fresh white roses, mixed with a handful of blooming white baby’s breath—just like the ones I had in the flower bouquet that I carried on our wedding day—and with a simple white ribbon wrapped around the footstalks. He had known me well enough to know that I only enjoyed simple things, and it hurt to know that he still remembered everything to the T.

I didn’t really need to ask, but I could not help it. “Those flowers—Jungkook sent them, didn’t he?”

Yoongi clenched his jaw and nodded. “I heard that he’s making amends.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, he just promised to stay around. Be a friend,” I told him, to which he gave me a sceptical look through his eyes. “He wants to be involved but not so much to disturb my life or to get in the way of my recovery process.”

Yoongi started shaking his head. I knew that I didn’t have to explain things on Jungkook’s behalf or to defend him right in front of my friend. But what Yoongi did not know was that Jungkook was not the only one making amends. If he was willing to try and make peace with everything that had been going on, then I should do just the same. It was the only way I could do to let the pain of his betrayal go away and to be able to look at my future without any resentment of the past.

It may have been far too late for me to realise it, and I hated the fact that I needed Jimin there to open my eyes, but the only reason why I have yet to be able to move forward entirely had been due to my anger. Letting my resentment grow freely inside my chest would only blind me from the beautiful things waiting for me in the future.

That is, if there was still any hope for me out there.

“I was almost sure you’re going to forgive that son of a bitch again,” Yoongi finally said with a sigh.

“Oh, I have forgiven him.”

Yoongi sat back with a jolt. “What?”

Chuckling, I waved him off. “No, I meant to say that I have forgiven him, just so we could move on. It has been too exhausting to keep being angry. If he really meant it when he said he wanted us to be friends, that he wanted to support me, then I should stop being so hostile with him. It’s actually pretty relieving to not be angry with him all the time,” I explained, and Yoongi slowly relaxed, while I had to clench my teeth together at the memory of all those passing moments we have had where we were too busy battling each other instead of moving forward. “Not to mention, the last altercation he caused had hurt Jimin. I don’t think I would have any more to give if I’m going to continue fighting him.”

Yoongi sat in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, he nodded his head after a while. “I still regretted not being here at the time to punch his face. Not to defend your boyfriend, but for stressing you out.”

I gave him a wry smile. Our relationship had always been a bit more cordial before this point, when we were just two people running a freelance business together. Back in college, he was nothing more but a stranger since we both ran with different crowds. He was more a part of Jungkook’s circle than he was in mine. But to have him on my side this time around, to have him as a part of my support system both as a friend and a second brother to me was gratifying.

“You haven’t been around much. I was starting to miss you,” I told him, making him chuckle. It was not a lie, I did miss him. His absence had never felt so strong before, but even with the overwhelming change happening in my life lately, I have missed his presence around me.

“And you really want me to believe that you actually have been thinking of me?” he jokingly asked me. “I thought you already have someone to keep you company. And I know that he’s been keeping you busy.” He said this while waggling his eyebrows, and I felt my face flushing with heat. He may not have fully supported my new relationship with Jimin at first, stating that I was risking my heart by being close to someone who was fighting the same battle as I was, but he seemed pretty okay with it now.

“What have you been up to?” I asked him. “Come on, tell me anything. I’m bored, and anxious.” Because the days were moving closer to the day for my surgery, was what I couldn’t tell him. Thinking about it only made me tremble in fear, so I tried to avoid bringing it up unless it was necessary. “Tell me that the world outside still exists.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Oh, the world outside still exists, all right,” he said, before he began updating me about everything that had been going on lately. Not everything in the world that I could keep up on my own through the news or the things I saw on the television, however, but the things around us that I had left behind. He updated on things regarding work, since I had left behind a bunch of unfinished projects on his hands when I got sick. I had tried my best to help him while I still could, until I had no more energy and he stopped bringing files on our projects to the hospital so he could stop me from trying to force myself to stay active.

Then he suddenly fell silent, just when I was asking him about what had been going on in his life. He looked a bit embarrassed for a moment, looking everywhere but my eyes until he finally took a deep breath and spoke.

“I’m seeing someone,” Yoongi finally admitted. “It’s new and nothing really serious yet, so Hoseok told me to take my time for myself with—you know.”

“No, I totally understand. I don’t ever want to be in the way for you or Hoseok on whatever is happening with your lives,” I told him, before realising something else. “Did you think I would say something about it? Is that why you never said anything to me at first? You know I wouldn’t, right? You’ve done so much for me. I already told you and my brother that I don’t want to have you both putting lives on hold for me. I know Hoseok is starting to.”

And I meant it. I have noticed it for a while but my brother had never wanted to talk about it. Hoseok was starting to look like he was stepping back from living his life, as he struggled to be there for me the entire time I was battling my illness, all while he was doing all he could to help me get out of my broken marriage completely unscathed.

Yoongi’s smile looked a bit sad when he looked at me. “I know you wouldn’t say anything bad. You’ve always been so great when it comes to dealing with my relationships. I think you’ve handled things better than I had,” he said with a chuckle. “As for Hoseok—He’s trying to make up for lost time. You know, for all those years he had made the mistake of cutting you off.”

Shaking my head, I refused to acknowledge it. “It wasn’t completely his fault,” I said, surprising even myself for knowing how I meant it. Through all those years we have lost contact, I did blame Hoseok for pushing me away and refusing to hear what I had to say. He was the one who had shunned me when I needed him the most, but that anger was gone now. Just like how I had forgiven my ex-husband, just how I had forgiven Kara and my father, and how I was just starting to forgive myself for all the horrible things which had happened between us in the past, I had forgiven my brother.

“Yet he still blames himself,” Yoongi said to me patiently, defending my brother. “He still thinks that he deserves to be punished for his ignorance in the past, for not being there for you until it was too late. He kept telling me how hard it has been for him to forget that fact how he had turned his back on you. That you had trusted him and he had only let you down. I think he instantly regretted it when it happened but he didn’t know just how to reach out to you again.”

“Until he met you.” I gave him a wry smile, while deep inside, I was grateful for the fact that my brother had somehow met Yoongi by chance and reached out to him so he could become the bridge between the two of us. Yoongi had no obligations to do any of that, but he did. And he had made it possible for the two of us to reconcile, even if it had come a bit too late.

An orderly interrupted our talk by entering the room with my lunch. Yoongi stood up to retrieve the tray and took his time to set up my meal for me. After a while, I couldn’t help it, I just had to ask, “Why do you take such good care of me? I mean, I’m happy that you are here and to have you as a friend and a second brother. But you’ve done a lot more. Not just for me, but for Hoseok too.”

Yoongi avoided my eyes when he returned to his seat. “Because I really care about you, ______. And you also did a lot for me when I needed help and people were turning their backs on me,” he finally said. His eyes were dark, and his pain was visible when he looked up at me. “Back then, you knew my secrets and still didn’t run away,” he said, while my memory brought me back to the past, when I had met him again after a quite some time, after he had become distant to most of the people we knew back in college. None of the people around us truly knew then that his friends had left him when things were hard for him, and I had chosen to become his friend at the time because I knew what it was like to lose everyone because of all the choices we made.

“I would never turn my back on you,” I told him, while he only gave me a bitter chuckle.

“Well, most people did. They always said it didn’t matter, but then they couldn’t look at me the same way again.”

I bit my lip when I remembered those days. Those final days before I finally left college, when people were whispering things on campus. Bad rumours had always been easy to travel quickly, especially when it came to a person like Yoongi. “Did people ever find out? I thought nobody ever clarified the rumours that had been going around at campus.”

He scoffed. “No, but it happened around the same time I began cutting back from classes and partying, so I guess people took it as a confirmation to them being true. And I had no point or a reason to deny it. Especially since when the truth finally came out, it didn’t really help much to make a difference in the situation.”

I reached out to him and grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? It’s in the past and you have grown far from that. And you’ll have my back as long as you have me.”

Chuckling softly, Yoongi gave me a relieved smile as he gripped my hand tighter. “Good. Cause you’ll have mine as long as I can help it.”

My heart felt full and warm with the promise that we shared, but at the same time, I also felt the weight of guilt brewing inside my chest as I said those words to him. I was grateful and glad for our friendship and knowing that we would be there for each other no matter what cause, and I had meant every word I said. But I couldn’t help but wished that I had been able to do the same and keep my promise to someone else.

I still wished that I had been able to do the same to another person who I should have never turned my back on in the past.

—Present life. Year 2018—

Winter break had barely ended when I returned to campus at the beginning of the new year.

The cold breeze still felt so strong even though spring was right in the corner that I had to tighten my coat while I paced down the slippery sidewalk towards the rendezvous spot. Taehyung had to repeatedly look over his shoulder to make sure that I was still following him close behind and that I hadn’t slipped away without him noticing. It was partly my fault that he got worried. Simply because I kept refusing his help each time he tried to hold my hand as we walked down the icy sidewalk on our not so sufficient boots. But I also knew that he could barely hold his own, which had been the reason why I didn’t want to become a burden.

Not when I was supposed to be here to give him the support he needed.

I looked up to notice that we were getting close to the east side plaza, where the largest park in the campus’ vicinity was located and also where people were gathering for the event. Loud voices and excited chatters were heard just when we were coming up around the corner, while Taehyung’s gaze looked both amused and nervous when he looked over to me for the last time.

He waited for me right before we went there. This time, I reached out for his hand and held on tightly. “You okay?”

“Fine, just nerves,” he said, shrugging, acting like it was no big deal. But I knew him, both in this lifetime and in the previous one, enough to know that he was blanketing his emotions and thoughts from me. And yet, I only chose not to push him too much about it and tried to have him think of other things instead.

“Okay, now remind me again why we came all the way here? Classes won’t start until the end of the month,” I asked him, just when a series of laughter was heard from the plaza. “And why the hell did they choose to meet up out here anyway? It’s fucking cold.”

Taehyung chuckled as he watched me wrapped my arms around myself and tugged me to come and walk with him, huddling close to keep our bodies warm. “These people are volunteers who are interested to join the spring project. I heard that they wanted to gather as many volunteers as they could get before everyone gets swamped with classes and assignments,” he began talking as he guided the two of us to join the crowd.

As we came up to the plaza, the place had already been filled with students, all wrapped up in thick winter coats and sweaters, all rubbing their hands together to keep themselves warm. But everyone shared the same wide eyes and bright, excited faces as they waited for the event to start. Everyone was standing together, facing the stage at the center. I kept on watching the people around us as Taehyung led us to the middle ground, all while sharing everything there was to know about the event.

This project was held by the local social acts group formed by students from the Social Studies and Medical Faculty, with some of Taehyung’s seniors whom he had grown close to leading the group. They always held their annual community service to help children or elders in need, and Taehyung had been involved in them a few times through the past year that he had probably grown accustomed to all of this.

Most of the work that he had done had mostly involved children, since that had been his main interest for his studies. But early winter, he had joined the service to provide coals and firewoods for elders and poor families who lived in isolated areas. For the past year, Taehyung had enjoyed doing this service and charity work because it had made him happy, it had given him a purpose and new goals to achieve, while opening a way for his future career.

In a different lifetime, being involved with this cause had only served as a form of escape.

And it was what had brought him far, far away from me until the day the bridge between us finally burned for good. All driven from the hurt that I had caused him.

“What’s the goal for the spring project, then?” I asked him just when he found us an empty spot with the perfect view towards the stage. The cold didn’t feel as harsh now as we stood between these people, but Taehyung still wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to keep me warm.

“That’s what we’re all here for. The group always chooses their project from the ideas that they collect from their members or other volunteers, then chooses a captain to lead according to what kind of social service or charity they are doing. They haven’t decided what they were going to be working on this spring. Looking from all of these people gathering here, I’m guessing it’s going to be a big one. They’ve never had this many people being interested to join.”

“Maybe this is for the project that you wanted to sign up so badly before? The one they said they were going to send volunteers to the southern hemisphere?” I asked him, reminded of his wish to join the volunteer work that may give him a chance to travel to places while continuing his study.

Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be. They haven’t really announced anything for that one either.”

I was about to say something, asking him more about this group and the organisation behind its cause, when a few people stepped up to the stage. One of the female leaders took the microphone and began to greet everyone who was present, applauding people who had come even in the cold. But I barely paid any attention to a word she said when I followed Taehyung’s gaze and saw him standing there with the other members of the volunteer group.

“There he is. Namjoon is always there with them. He’s been made captain on the last few projects that we’ve worked on,” he said, sounding almost distractedly as he watched Namjoon conversing with his friends on stage. I had to admit, the man really was attractive. His whole presence oozed confidence and his demeanour showed me that he was a smart man. Smart enough to be extremely persuasive. A dimple showed on his face when he smiled, and his laughter echoed through the stage, almost rivalling the MC’s voice as she continued to speak.

“Has he approached you yet?” I asked.

Taehyung shrugged. “He’s been a bit friendly, but that’s about it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To make sure that you would have someone to remind you to consider things before signing up?” I turn to look at him, waggling my brow to tease him a little.

This time, Taehyung turned to me and snickered. “Well, you know what they said. The only way for someone to avoid getting swayed by a handsome looking guy who happens to be an extremely persuasive man is to have your childhood crush standing right with you.”

“Whatever you say,” I said, chuckling as he tightened his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Neither of us said a thing as we listened to the MC spoke, before she finally handed the microphone to Namjoon, who became the one to talk about the project and let the volunteers learn more about the system, the plans, and how to sign up.

We shared nothing more but a bittersweet feeling while we were entranced as we listened to Namjoon speak, holding each other the way we never could in another life we shared.

We didn’t only come here to admire this man or to only see what today was all about, but to simply find answers. To slowly connect the dots and put the puzzle pieces together to fill the blanks, just so we could lay down every part of that other lifetime for us to understand where did everything went wrong.

There had been parts of the past, faces and names of the people that had become a part of my previous life that I could not recall or draw from my jumbled memory so easily. I may have seen or felt their presence in those memories, but some of them had appeared in my dreams merely as blurry shadows, faceless figures, people whose voice only came to me as if they had been submerged underwater.

Kim Namjoon was one of the missing pieces of the puzzle that had caused a rift in my friendship with Taehyung in another lifetime. In my memory, he was nothing but a nameless shadow, one that I feared and hated almost as much as the painful parts I shared with Jungkook from the past life. It took Taehyung finding him to help me remember everything—who he was, what he had done, and everything that happened then—all the broken memories had been unravelled the day Taehyung had first introduced me to this man sometime last semester.

And the reminder of who he was had come in the right time, because he had already become a part of Taehyung’s life through these activities he had been involved in. Because just like how it happened in the past life, Kim Namjoon was the one who had convinced Taehyung to join their movement.

The only difference now was that Taehyung had me by his side. That Taehyung had not been wounded when they first met.

In the past life, Kim Namjoon had come into Taehyung’s life when Taehyung needed someone to look up to, when Taehyung needed a friend and guidance while I kept on pushing him away, leaving him in the blind and completely alone. In that part of our lives, the man had come in at the right time, right when my best friend was completely vulnerable. And he had eased his way in so easily, filling the void in Taehyung’s life, saying all the right words and showing all the right things to have Taehyung follow him wherever he would go. What had started as a good cause to give Taehyung a purpose in life, it had ended leading him to get involved with the bad crowd, to join the bad business that Namjoon was secretly building behind his gentle smile and manipulative ways of making people around him feel special.

Taehyung had loved him with his wounded heart, and he had given the man everything. Only to have Namjoon suck his heart and soul dry, before tossing him away once he was done with him.

And I was not there to catch him when he fell.

“So what do you think? Are you going to join this one?”

The gathering event had ended two hours ago, and now we were heading towards the coffee shop where I had been working part-time for the past few months. Taehyung had insisted to walk me there despite his dorm being located in the opposite direction, saying that he was worried that I would slip if I had gone alone. After all the trouble we had by walking through the icy road and the slippery sidewalks this morning, I had no reason to argue. And I also knew that he only wanted to spend some more time with me before he had to leave for his part-time job, so I just let him be.

Ever since we watched Namjoon’s speech, Taehyung had been left in a daze. He had always reacted this way whenever he saw Namjoon. I was never quite sure whether it was due to my warnings regarding the man or if he had truly developed some sort of a crush or perhaps grown the same hero worship that he had for the man the same way he did in the different lifetime.

“I’m not sure yet,” he finally said. “Even if the cause is going to be just around the city, I don’t think I can make it if they’re starting around the same time my classes are starting over.”

His reasoning had made complete sense. But deep down, I also knew that he was lying. He was conflicted. I could feel it. And he was trying so much to hold back from whatever it was that had been bothering him.

Once Namjoon was done with his speech and the event presentation on stage, he had come down to approach Taehyung while the other students had started lining up to join the cause. He had pulled us both to the side, persuading us personally.

“It wouldn’t be as tiring as the one we did last time. We’re only visiting some of the schools at the neighbouring towns. We’re going to give classes, lend some care for the kids, do some health check-up, while the group from the Engineering Faculty will be there to help with technicalities, like building new facilities or fix old structures that didn’t survive the winter,” Namjoon had told the both of us, pretty much summarising his own presentation on stage to make sure that he would point out all the compelling factors to appeal Taehyung. “You’ve always enjoyed working on any causes that involve children, so I’m sure this would be perfect for you. Not to mention, we’ll be getting extra credits for each movement we make this semester with the faculty supporting us through funds and getting us sponsors.”

I could tell that he was getting through to Taehyung when I saw my best friend watching him with wide eyes. But I had been focusing more on Namjoon, letting my own curiosity and wonder get to me. And for someone who appeared so open, so enticing, and one whose main job was to approach people, Kim Namjoon was hard to read.

My memories of him had been nothing but scraps. It had seemed that in my other life, I had no opportunity to know him in person as he was merely a part of Taehyung’s world once our friendship fell apart and we became worlds apart. This time, I had more opportunities to know this man in person. Still, the only things I had come to know about him had only come from Taehyung.

The only thing I knew about him was that he was a year senior from us, focusing on Medical Studies to become a neurosurgeon. He was a brilliant student, had always come with the highest grade in his year, and he had been active in great causes to help people.

None of that information had ever told us the reason why everything fell apart for Taehyung when they began doing all of their causes together. We only knew that in the past life, Taehyung had gone away with him to a place far away, never to return until everything had been much too late. We just never knew when and how, and I knew that this was the reason why Taehyung had been so afraid to take the risk.

“Remember what you said to me back then, before I met Jimin? Back when I was too scared to even go out and have fun?” I asked him as we continued to walk in silence. The coffee shop had appeared on sight, so I knew that this would be the only chance I could ever be able to say this.

“No, I don’t. What did I say?”

I turned to him. “You told me to be cautious, but not too cautious that I don’t get to live and enjoy the present,” I said. “I know you’re worried about the risk of getting close to him without knowing what exactly happened to you in the past after you got together with him, but I know that you enjoy doing these things. So just go for it. If you do it, I’ll be there to join you so you won’t have to be there alone.”

Taehyung smiled at me as he listened to my promises. I could tell that he was relieved to hear it. “You would?”

“Didn’t I promise that I would never let anything come between us? Not this time,” I told him, reminding him all the promises that I had made back then when we found out that one of the many reasons why our lives had fallen apart was because neither of us was there for the other.

I had made a promise that I would never let that happen again. That I would never let him stray away from my life. No matter what. In a different life, I may have left him to fend for himself. This life had to be different. This time, we had each other.

“Right, okay,” he said, nodding to himself while sighing deeply. The frown that he had carried with him ever since we left the campus’ plaza disappeared when he looked at me. In its place came a smile, and a pair of eyes so bright it made me believe that he would be able to conquer everything if he wanted to.

“Thanks for coming with me this morning,” he said, giving me a side hug as we continued our walk.

“You know I don’t mind it. We haven’t been spending too much time together lately,” I told him as I leaned to him.

For the past few months, both of us had been busy focusing on our own lives. While my relationship with Jimin was blossoming, Taehyung was busy tackling different challenges in his life. We haven’t been spending a lot of time with each other the way we used to aside from the time we spent when we went back to our hometown together during the holidays, yet another reason why I had wanted to do this with him.

Despite our busy lives, things had been completely different still.

At least this time, he was still there, and he had yet to disappear from my life. Even if we couldn’t see each other, all we needed to do was to pick up the phone and we would be there for each other even through the distance.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” he asked me just as we arrived at the coffee shop.

“Absolutely. Are you picking me up here once my shift ends?”

“Yeah. I might stop by at the library to drop some books, but I’ll come to get you right after,” he said, before giving me a hug as he said goodbye.

“Alright then. See you later.”

I stood in front of the coffee shop for a while longer, watching him walk away until he disappeared right around the corner on his way to the daycare center he had been working at. The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded when I walked in, with the majority of the students had yet to return on campus after the long winter break.

But that soon changed the moment my shift began, right when the rush of the lunch hour started. Students and workers from the nearby offices came in, forming a long line only minutes after I had taken over the cashier. The rush lasted for a little over an hour, much shorter than the regular hustle that would no doubt begin the moment the next term started at the end of the month.

Even if I had been out and active since early morning, I served the patrons with a smile on my face. Before I knew it, the line of customer started to dwindle. By the time I served the last patron, my back was sore and my legs were tight, but something was telling me that I wasn’t supposed to take a break yet. So I stayed behind the counter while my co-worker for the day—the only one there since many of the other staff had yet to return from their holiday—turned to ask if he could take a quick break while there was no customer coming in.

“I’m going to take a quick smoke break, is that okay? We can switch once I’m back,” he said, already in the middle of untying his apron to avoid getting some smoke on it.

“Sure, no problem. I got it handled.”

I turned back to check on my phone once he was gone, taking my time to reply to some messages that I got from Jimin who was asking about my day and my plans for the night. I had just pressed the send button when the bell at the front door chimed behind me, but it took me a few seconds too long to put my phone away before a deep voice called out.

“Excuse me. Can I make an order?”

I turned around to greet the new customer. But the moment I saw him, my body went frozen stiff and my head began to spin.

I had never met this person before. And yet, I remembered him.

Each time I tried to reclaim my memories, there was a void where someone was supposed to be a part of. There was a presence that was constant in almost every part of my painful memories. Yet aside from everyone that I had remembered so far, this person had always been nothing but a shadow, a faceless entity that was there, but never completely solid.

But the moment I saw him standing there, right on the other side of the counter, waiting for me to take his orders, his face brought all the missing pieces together. All the blurry images I had been seeing in my dreams came to me in flashing moments, so quick, so random, but far more clearly than how they all had been. His face filled all of those empty voids. His face, his eyes, his small smile, they replaced the faceless man who had been there by my side through all of the hurt, through all of my journeys.

In those dreams, in those flashing memories that I had been getting, I could never see the face of the man who was holding my hand while I was fighting for my life. And at that moment, as I was looking straight into this customer’s eyes, his face was all I see being there by my side.

He was there.

He was always there.

“Um—hello?”

The man waved his hand right in front of my face with an amused look, snapping me right out of my stupor.

“Oh, uh—yes, hi. Sorry, what can I get you?” I questioned him, unable to hold back the nervous chuckle that came bubbling out. Thankfully, he only smiled.

“I’ll have a cup of espresso and a bagel,” he said, only after taking a moment perusing through the menu placed above the counter.

My fingers were shaking when I was placing his orders into the cashier machine, so I kept my eyes down to make sure I wasn’t making a mistake. “Right. To go?”

He hummed softly and looked around. “Um—no, I think I’ll take them here.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a moment to finish up his orders. “Thank you. You can take a seat or wait on the counter. We’ll call your name once your order is ready.”

“Yeah, okay. My name is—”

“Yoongi,” I blurted out before he could even finish. For some reason, just like how his face filled all the missing puzzle, his name just came into my head as if I had known him my whole life.

When I saw his eyebrows came up to his forehead, I knew then that he was just as surprised as I was. “What? Have we met?”

“Um, well—” I began to stutter while my brain seemed to just stop working indefinitely. So I only said the first thing I could think of as an excuse, “You’re pretty well known. I mean, my friends know you. I just suddenly remember your name.”

Well, at least that was not a complete lie. I was pretty sure that perhaps some of my friends would know him, and I did just remember his name.

He looked at me with a frown, not looking entirely convinced, but he said nothing of it when he handed me his cash to pay for his orders. “Right, well. That’s me. I’m Yoongi.”

“Of course,” I said, avoiding his gaze as I put his money in. “I’ll call you when your coffee is ready.”

His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, filled with curiosity and probably a bunch of other questions, but he only nodded. “Thanks,” he said to me as he walked to the other side of the counter, leaving me feeling lightheaded.

Everything seemed to be colliding together right at the same time. The final missing pieces of the puzzle were coming to place one at a time. As if the whole universe was trying to shove everything to my face, though I really had no idea just what it was trying to tell me.

—Present life. Hot and Spicy Grill. Year 2018—

As promised, Taehyung had picked me up at work right the moment my shift was up.

There was nothing much to say between us as we drove away in his small city car from the coffee shop, since I was still trying to process the shock of having the unexpected meeting during work earlier while Taehyung seemed like he was having his own turmoil to deal with. He was silent during the drive, looking distracted but thankfully not enough to derail him from driving the car properly. But his silence had made it hard for me to question it when he suddenly started leading the car away from the campus grounds and he kept going further until the car entered the freeway.

It took a few turns before the sight around me changed, the suburbs getting further away behind us, when I finally grew wary and curious that I simply had to speak up. “Are you sure we’re still going to dinner? You’re not planning on kidnapping me, are you?”

Taehyung’s eyes grew wide before he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s a surprise,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t go crazy and take you to any place with no civilisation like what Jimin did.”

Smiling, I looked away from him when my face began to flush. I had told him once about the surprise trip that Jimin had taken me to—which I had to spill because I had completely forgotten to call him back that night after we had just parted way minutes before Jimin came to pick me up. I had told him about how Jimin planned out an outdoor picnic with a thousand stars above us and the view of the valley everywhere I looked, though I had to skip telling him about the ‘dessert’ Jimin gave me under the same stars which had sent me flying to heavenly bliss.

Judging from the sly smirk he was making now, I supposed he had made his own guess to what had happened on the date once the food was left forgotten.

As I looked out the window, I finally realised that he was right. He was not taking me towards the same area that Jimin had taken me to. On the outer lane of the freeway, I saw buildings and dense trees instead of hills and valleys. And to my relief, what I was seeing was the kind of trees I would normally see packed up in the city. The lanes were getting more and more packed with cars as we went further, so I wasn’t quite surprised to see him turning to the exit heading downtown.

“Sorry for the long trip,” he said. “I just found out about this place a while ago and wanted to check it out. I figured if I want to take anyone here to try it then it should be you since we haven’t done this for a while.”

“Aww—that’s so nice that you’re thinking of me. You are truly the best friend every girl needs. The man after my own heart. Or, in this case, stomach,” I teased him, earning his laugh.

It didn’t take much longer than fifteen minutes after we were out of the freeway before he pulled into a small spaced parking lot, and my gaze fell on the small restaurant that seemed like it had only opened pretty recently. “Is it a barbecue and grill place? Awesome!”

“Figured you’ll love it,” he said, turning the car engine off. “Let’s go before the place gets packed with the dinner crowd.”

It didn’t take us long to be seated. But Taehyung was right. Not too long after we made our orders, more and more people started coming in and the place was full within minutes.

“I hope this place is good. People keep talking about this place so I bet these people came from everywhere around the city. I don’t even doubt that we would see some familiar faces from campus,” Taehyung told me after taking a quick look around.

“I’m really hungry I can eat anything at this point,” I said, smiling at him. It really didn’t matter where we were or if the trip here had been worth it. It was spending the time with my best friend during all of the things that had been going on in our lives which I had been most excited about.

The tables around us had started grilling and Taehyung seemed giddy in his seat, looking excited as he looked at the meal with a deep longing in his eyes and he licked his lips at the roasted beef cooking beside us. This was something that I had missed, enjoying our time together and to see him loosening up. Each time we were together, I would look at him and wonder how we ever came apart.

How much different was it back then between us compared to us now? Would we still have this if I had never learned all the mistakes we made in the past life?

Taehyung was picking on the welcome snacks when I felt my phone vibrating in my bag. Remembering that I had promised Jimin to text him the moment Taehyung had succeeded in picking me up at work while he couldn’t, I pulled out the phone and smiled when I noticed that he had messaged me first.

From Jimin: Hey, babe. Are you out with Taehyung?

From Jimin: I’m taking a break atm and I thought about you. Hope he didn’t decide to steal you away from me :(

A smile came to my face as I was reading through his messages. I could picture him sitting down in the middle of his dance practice, all sweaty and breathless while he was typing these words. My heart jumped and it made me realise how much I missed him, even if we had only been apart for a day thanks to our schedules.

To Jimin: I’m safe. He’s not kidnapping me or whatever, but you did give him an idea of taking me far away from campus

From Jimin: Sorry, my bad :p

To Jimin: How’s practice?

From Jimin: These guys are relentless. I’ll probably wake up all sore and bruised tomorrow

To Jimin: But you love it

From Jimin: I do :)

To Jimin: What time will you be done?

From Jimin: We’re doing one more round of practice then I’ll be on my way home

Home. The way he had said it made my heart stir. Ever since we became official, Jimin had repeatedly asked me to move in with him. But I have yet to give an answer, thinking that perhaps things had been going on too fast. If there was anything that I learned from putting all the pieces from my other life together was that moving too fast could lead to a disaster.

Would I dare risk it and say yes? I knew that it was something that my previous self—the other ’me’—had wished for. I saw her dreams as some broken fragments of memories in my dreams, had even mistaken them as actual memories until I managed to decipher them as parts of imaginations instead, and many of those images had shown me various types of white picket fence houses. The settings and everything else around them would be a blurry mess and they had kept changing each time they came to me, but there had always been one part of it that had been consistent, an invariable factor from all of these dreams—Jimin.

“Is that Jimin?” Taehyung questioned me the moment he noticed the expressions I was making as I was messaging my boyfriend back, not realising that my mind had started to wander. “Is he still at practice?”

Putting away my phone, I smiled at him. “Yeah. That’s him. He was checking on me. Kinda. I told him that I’d be with you while he’s busy with his dance.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Doesn’t he bring you to his practices?”

“No,” I said, snickering to myself when I remembered how adamant Jimin had been to stop me when I insisted to come to his practice. “Jimin said it’s better for me to just watch the actual performance. I think he’s still a bit embarrassed to show me all the process behind his work.”

Taehyung chuckled. Shaking his head, he only commented lightly, “He probably didn’t want you distracting him. Or worse, have his friends coming on to you while he’s busy dancing.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Both of us knew that Jimin had a bit of a jealousy streak, but not so much that it made me feel suffocated just to be with him, or to feel like I was constantly walking on eggshells. The only way he had been showing it was to playfully complain or he would sometimes poke fun on me, acting sulky but never too much.

There was only one person in this world who could tick him off the wrong way. And honestly, Jimin was not the only one who was against this same person.

Looking up at Taehyung, I realised that he had never been kind to each time Jungkook’s name was mentioned. Out of everyone in my life, he was the only person who knew why I had to stay away from Jungkook. He was the only one who had heard all the stories, everything that I remembered from the other ’me’ and all that I felt when the memories returned.

Just like how I was the only person who knew what would happen to both of us if we would ever make another mistake.

Taehyung glanced towards the table next to us one last time, growing impatient while he was completely oblivious to where my mind had been wandering to. Watching him like this reminded me of how distracted he had been when he first came to pick me up, suggesting that something must have happened to him between the moment when we parted ways to the time he came by at the coffee shop. I had been waiting for him to talk about it, only to have him constantly acting as if I had yet to notice his odd behaviour.

“So how was your day?” I finally asked him when his gaze turned blank and he was suddenly becoming more interested in the paper napkin which he had placed on his lap. “You haven’t told me much about your work and your trip to the library.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

That got me raising my brows. It was becoming more obvious to me now that he was trying to avoid talking about it. “Really?”

Taehyung looked up to me, pressing his lips before he released a defeated sigh. “I hate you,” he said, catching me off guard before he suddenly chuckled. “I hate that I can never lie to you.”

Smiling to him, I merely shrugged my shoulders the way he often did. “We’ve been friends since forever. If there’s one person in this world who knows you better than yourself, it would be me,” I said teasingly, before I added, “Second to Hoseok. Sometimes I wonder if he’s secretly your brother, not mine.”

Taehyung chuckled at that. There was no lie that he had come to grow close to Hoseok as we grew up together. Our friendship had started from a play date held by our Moms that happened when we were kids, only because our houses were located in the same block and I was the only one in the neighbourhood who was at the same age as he was. Then our friendship grew in elementary school when we promised to have each other’s backs, and we stayed close as we kept on going to the same school, doing the same things together growing up, then he stayed with me when I got sick and while I was recovering in the hospital years ago. But, as a boy, he had looked up to Hoseok as if he was his own older brother, and Hoseok had taken a liking to him especially because he had always wanted a brother.

“True. Though he wouldn’t be subtle if he wants to know stuff about me. He’d probably be snapping at me—Come on! Spill!” Taehyung jokingly imitated Hoseok’s tone of voice, which made me laugh when I saw his face and I could actually imagine my brother’s voice coming out of him.

“Seriously, though. What is it?” I asked again before he ever had a chance to change the topic around and avoid answering your question. “You came to the coffee shop looking like someone had just hurt your dog. And you’ve been pretty quiet when you’re not talking about this place and the food.”

Once again, he pressed his lips together. “Nothing much, really,” he started, though he suddenly grew restless in his seat and he began to look away, finding it hard to look into my eyes. He suddenly seemed nervous, yet I still felt a hint of relief when I didn’t see any guilt in his eyes, it would probably be worse if he was hiding something big from me.

“It’s just—” he said, clearing his throat. “I stumbled upon Namjoon at the library earlier.”

“You did?”

Are you sure that he was not stalking you? —Was what I had originally wanted to say, but I kept them to myself.

Taehyung looked down briefly before facing me again. “Right, so—he kept on asking me to join the cause and the rest of their spring activities cause they needed more people. Then he started asking me about my classes, the professors I’ve gotten this semester, before he suddenly asked if we could grab a coffee sometime.”

I blinked. He had spoken so quickly during the last part of his sentence that I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things right until it finally clicked for me a few milliseconds too long. “He asked you to go out for coffee?” I asked, to which he nodded. “Like—casually? Or—”

“Like—he just literally said, ‘Hey, why don’t we grab some coffee sometime and talk more?’, in a friendly kind of way,” he said, imitating Namjoon’s voice in his own way.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging sheepishly. “I was kind of shocked and he only patted me in the back and walked away.”

I blinked again. “Funny how he seems to insist having you around a lot,” I muttered, before looking at him suspiciously. “He even came to you this morning while the gathering was clearing up. And you said he wasn’t interested to make a move on you.”

The waiter came in just then to drop our drinks and Taehyung took his time to take a sip of his cold beer before answering, “I don’t know either. He didn’t seem like he even noticed me that much in the past year.”

“How did you feel about his offer then?”

He raised his brows. “How I felt? Well—I certainly didn’t have all the goosebumps, the fireworks, or my heart beating fast cause I have no jumbled memories mixing in between the good and the bad, so—”

“Hey, watch it—” I warned him while pointing a straw at him. “No, I’m just asking cause it seemed to bother you a little.”

“It’s not. It’s just—” he seemed to contemplate his answers for a moment, like he was trying to find the best way to explain his trail of thoughts even while he was having trouble understanding it himself.

“I guess I was just wondering, why me?” he finally said. “I mean, I kind of understand why he would be approaching me—another ’me’—in the alter life. It must have been compelling to come on to someone who seemed broken and lost and I had probably seen him as my saviour, the light of my life after the darkness, the white knight.”

His overly dramatic expression had you raising your brows. “He’s kind of a heartthrob too.”

“Yeah—” he hummed. “I won’t even deny the fact that he’s attractive. But normal me? This me? I wouldn’t have picked him as the type of guy I’d be dating if I would—” he stopped and started glancing around, as if he was afraid that someone might be listening in. “You know.”

And I did know what he was trying to tell me. For someone who had been open about his sexual preferences, he was still wary about the world around us, not too sure on how they would perceive him.

He leaned back on his seat when he added, “He seems so put together too. But after knowing what would have happened if I had just let things be, I can somehow look past his false act of composure and find him seem a bit unhinged.”

“Seriously?” I questioned him, laughing. “Unhinged? Have you been reading criminal fiction novels in your Psych classes?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I laughed at him, but then stopped myself as I watched him closely. While a part of me was relieved that he believed me enough to tread things carefully, I was also feeling the guilt for allowing him to build his own boundaries by giving him all the warnings on what was supposed to be our future. Even though he was giving it the best he could, I still worried that he might not be living his life to the fullest potential just because he was afraid to make any decision that could lead to the end of our friendship.

Taehyung looked at me when I fell silent. “What? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Sighing, I had no choice but to share my thoughts on this. “Just wondering if I’ve made the right decision on letting you know about your supposed future. What if my memories had been wrong this whole time and it wasn’t Namjoon that I saw? What if he’s just a good guy with his mind on his good cause who happens to have an innocent crush on my best friend?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder on it briefly before shaking his head. “I’ve been talking shit and making long speeches about you risking things by not staying away from this dude who had supposedly ruined your life and your trust to other human beings—”

I rolled my eyes. “His name is Jungkook.”

But he continued on, ignoring me completely. “—so I’ve decided not to risk mine. Second chances, remember?”

His words made me stop. I bit my lip and nodded. “Second chances.”

Taehyung gave me a grim smile when he nodded back, but it also appeared to me that there was a huge weight being pulled away from his shoulders. As if being honest with each other had been freeing for him, something that I was feeling too.

Noticing that our meal order had yet to arrive at our table, Taehyung looked around and pushed himself out of his seat. “The food’s going to be here any minute but I’m going to need the restrooms. I’ll be right back,” he said, before he left his seat to make a quick run to the restrooms at the back.

I watched him leave just in time for my phone to vibrate in my hand. I looked down, opening the messaging app immediately for thinking that Jimin had texted some more before his practice would start again, only to stop when I saw Jungkook’s name flashing on the screen instead.

From Jungkook: Hey, I hope I’m not texting you with your boyfriend around :p

From Jungkook: It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at the pub

From Jungkook: Is everything okay?

Biting my lips, I looked over to where I saw Taehyung had disappeared to and breathed a sigh of relief that the message had come in while he was gone. Taehyung would have only needed to take one look at my face before he would start asking questions, including why I had been texting with Jungkook from time to time.

To Jungkook: everything’s fine

To Jungkook: Been a bit busy, that’s all. How are you?

From Jungkook: doing okay

From Jungkook: I’m finally back on campus and I just got my schedules at the pub. Will be performing on stage next Friday night

From Jungkook: Will you come?

I lowered the phone to my lap, having no idea how to respond. While most of our texts had been about keeping up with each other’s lives, there had been a few times when he would invite me to his show at the pub. I had only come to watch him a couple of times, most of them without even saying hello to him directly and leaving before giving him a chance to sit with me. I knew it was wrong to keep in touch and talk to him like this after what I had promised my best friend before, but it had not been easy for me to ignore him.

And he was not someone who would give up so easily either that ignoring his text messages was never a choice. Not when he would often try to find me or even call me until he could talk to me.

From Jungkook: ________?

Another message came in, letting me know that he was waiting for my response. Biting my lip, I pondered over the options. What was I supposed to say? And would he be happy to hear what my answers if I had refused to come?

And why on earth was I already wondering what clothes to wear for the night at the pub?

To Jungkook: Sorry

To Jungkook: I’ll try to be there. What time?

From Jungkook: the second stage of the night. 8 PM

From Jungkook: I’ll be waiting :)

Reading through his response, my stomach turned and my chest grew tight with guilt. There was no way out of this now. And I really had no idea what I was doing either, knowing that Friday night would be the night I would usually come to stay at Jimin’s place so we could spend the weekend together.

“Fuck,” I cursed at myself, before tossing my phone into my bag to avoid looking through his messages again.

The meal we ordered had just arrived at the table when Taehyung returned, with the waiter apologising to the two of us repeatedly about the long wait, explaining to us overwhelmed they were as the restaurant was a full house for the night. As Taehyung returned to his seat, the waiter walked away from our table, and my eyes were drawn to follow him as he weaved through the floor between the tables to return to the kitchen area.

That was when I saw him. His head bobbing over the other seated guests as he walked across the room until he found the table that seemed to have been reserved for him.

“What?” Taehyung questioned me when he noticed, his voice drawing my attention when I was still looking far away. “What is it?” he asked again when he got no answer, then he began looking around the seating area to find what I was looking at.

“I saw someone. From campus. Though it seems a bit odd that he had come all the way to this place to eat,” I said, disregarding the fact that it had been the same case for us since Taehyung and I had driven far to be there too. “There, he’s on the table at the corner. Wearing a black shirt and a black cap.”

He followed the direction I was subtly pointing to, taking a few seconds before his eyes grew with recognition when he finally found Yoongi at the other side of the restaurant.

“You know him?” he asked, raising his brows at me when he turned to me again. “I thought the only people you know on campus are just me, Jimin, and his cousin.”

“Ha, ha, funny,” I sneered at him while rolling my eyes while he enjoyed having been able to mock me about it. But then my eyes went back to his table, seeing Yoongi with another man who looked like him, but a bit older.

“He came to the coffee shop earlier today on my shift,” I told him, finding him looking at Yoongi again as if he wanted to make sure. “You know who he is?”

He turned back to you with wide eyes. “Min Yoongi? Everyone knows him. He’s pretty popular among the frat boys. He’s always leading his friends on the stuff they always organise in their frat houses, though he hasn’t really been in the scene that much lately.”

“And you have?”

He scoffed at me. “Hey, unlike you, I still have a reputation to uphold,” he teased me, snickering when I gave him a scowl. “My dorm mate gets invited to their parties a lot and I always go with him when I can.”

I looked over to Yoongi again, noticing the broody look that he was wearing even as he was chatting with his companion. His brother, more likely, since they looked pretty similar from this distance. Except that when Yoongi was wearing a dark shirt, his brother was wearing something lighter and a bit too formal for a grill house. “So, why hasn’t he been around?”

“Seems like he’s graduating this year, and rumours said he had already taken a job at his brother’s company so he no longer spends much time on campus unless necessary,” he explained slowly before he began glancing around warily the way he did previously. “But, um—there’s also this rumour going around.”

I snapped my head to look at him. “What kind of rumour?”

Taehyung took another quick glance at Yoongi before leaning closer so he could whisper, “Someone said they caught him kissing a TA. A male TA. It happened at a dorm party.”

My eyes grew instantly wide and I had to lean closer as I whispered angrily, “And people just—what? Stay away from him?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it seems like his friends are beginning to dwindle. I don’t think it’s because they’re afraid of the repercussions from sticking around or if it’s because there’s a possibility that he’s queer if the rumours are true, it’s just—” he swallowed hard, looking sympathetic as he glanced one more time towards Yoongi’s table before looking at me again, and I knew that the look he was giving me was there only due to the fact that he had once been in his shoes. “He’s been hiding this for so long, if it’s really true. Maybe they’re just pissed cause he’s been keeping a secret. You know how those frat boys are, they hold secrets like a treasure.”

They sure did.

Because according to one of my strongest memories of all, one of the biggest secrets that had been painful enough for me to remember from my past life was how Jungkook’s friends had also had a hand in hiding his sins from me.

Shaking my head, I chose to look away from Yoongi. “Still seems so stupid to just turn their backs on him like that just because of some rumours,” I wondered out loud, when the bitter truth of how he was left abandoned by the same people who were supposed to support him through it truly sunk in.

“It makes you think. Doesn’t it?” he asked me, though it sounded more like he was wondering out loud just like I was.

“About what?” I asked him.

“How you can’t always depend on others to stay in your life forever,” he said to me with an as-matter-factly tone, though it also sounded bitter, because he had experienced it too. Meeting his eyes, I was suddenly glad that I had been able to show him that he deserved the kind of support he needed too.

As we continued with our dinner, talking about all the silly and mundane things from our daily lives, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought still hanging in the back of my head. Too many coincidences happening on the same day. Right at that moment, just when I recounted that I had met Yoongi coincidentally twice in the same day after not being able to remember him for so long, something in my head clicked.

I just didn’t know what to do about it. And I had no idea how I could make it all possible to even happen.

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

As the final weeks before the surgery slowly started creeping up on me, I was slowly becoming a complete nervous wreck.

The fact that I was having an on and off fever also did not help my case at all. I was feeling like crap, was constantly exhausted, without knowing if the reason I kept on falling asleep was due to the overwhelming dose of painkillers that still remained in my blood or if my body had succumbed to the lingering pain that had only been intensifying, as if the masses in my body knew that they were about to be torn to pieces and they were giving their last fight.

My family, which mainly included Hoseok and Kara with the additional help from Yoongi, had been coming and going to stay with me and nurse me whenever needed. I knew that they were trying to ease my mind by staying positive whenever they were around, lifting my spirit while distracting me with things that they knew would make me happy. They would do everything they could, from bringing me movies, books, sometimes food or snacks that I could take without breaking the doctors’ rules and ones that I could swallow easily, to telling me stories or life updates that would be able to stop me from thinking about all the negative things I was facing.

But as the days were coming closer to the day of the surgery, not a single thing could help ease my mind. It was then when I finally realised that the fear had never truly sunk in, and it was only then that my brain was finally processing the fact that I was about to face a high-risk procedure that—according to some of the things I had been reading while I was preparing for it—also had a high chance of failure. And every illusion that I had let itself grow inside my mind, the false hope and optimism shattered like a glass wall and I was faced with the reality that perhaps all of what I was about to go through would be nothing but a fruitless attempt of getting me out of my bind.

It was even worse because I also knew that the people around me were doing all they could to hide the fact that Jimin had been absent.

The emptiness I felt without him there had seemed like a void, a black hole that was growing larger inside me, as if it would be strong enough to swallow me from within. That was when I realised how much I needed him, and I could never imagine how life would be if I no longer had him by my side.

The last time I came to see him, he had been recovering from a long day of tests and treatments, and I had stayed in his room until he was feeling better, only after I had made sure that he was strong enough to go through the days without constantly being under watch.

Not too long after we parted ways, I was getting prepared for the surgery that I was no longer allowed to leave the room or to roam the hospital as freely as I had before. Though the reason why I had not been able to come and see him was not only due to the restrictions given to me, but also because my body had simply given up. I had no energy, and the pain was getting too unbearable as I was getting less painkillers to allow my body to take in more of my new meds.

The last time I saw him again was when I was under heavy medication. I was having a high fever that day and I heard his voice talking to my brother and the residing nurse to ask about my condition. I felt him holding my hand and kissing my forehead each time I woke up, barely able to speak, but seeing his face through my bleary eyes felt like a breath of fresh air. When I woke up feeling much better later that night, he was no longer there, but his warmth remained.

The only thing that had been making me worried was knowing that there had to be a reason why he had yet to come and visit me ever since. In other—more regular—days, he would appear in my room to each time I was unable to visit. He had also promised to stay by my side through this surgery, and yet, only a couple of days left and there was still no sign of him, letting me wondering if there was something wrong.

“I can check on him if you want,” Yoongi finally offered after noticing how anxious I had been the whole day. He must have caught me glancing towards the door even as we were sitting there, watching the movie playing from his laptop together. Perhaps he knew that my head had never been on the movie, just like it had always been.

I looked at him and sighed. “Could you?” I finally relented and asked him. “I asked Soyeon about him but she didn’t say much except that Jimin is still recovering. We text at night before bed, but he’d never answer when I ask how he’s doing.”

Yoongi simply nodded. “You know, it’d probably be easier if you guys just share a room together, huh?” he wryly said.

“I wish,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes before I realised just how tempting the idea had sounded. “Is something like that even possible though?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I’ve heard of family members or spouses with terminal illnesses being put together in the same room, but I don’t know if it’s possible on your case. I could have Hoseok or Kara to ask around. They’re the ones who are listed as your family.”

Shaking my head, I turned to look at the laptop again. “I don’t even know if Jimin would agree.”

“I’m sure he’s just as devastated as you are that he can’t come to see you.”

“You really think so?” I questioned him, finding him frowning when I looked up. “Thanks for trying to lift up my spirits. I feel like you’re treating me like I’m your teenage younger sister or something.”

Looking at me, Yoongi merely scoffed. “I never had any teenage younger sister to take care of so I wouldn’t know.”

When a visitor finally came by to my room later in the night, it was not Jimin.

Yoongi was putting his coat on to leave for the night after staying with me all day when Jungkook appeared in the doorway. There was another bouquet of white flowers in his hand—the same as the ones he had been sending me every day—and a deep scowl on his face when he exchanged gazes with Yoongi.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, obvious enough to show his dislike at Jungkook’s appearance. He didn’t even bother to greet my ex-husband as he turned to me. “Do you want me to stay a bit longer?”

I looked back and forth between them, only to have Jungkook looked away when I met his eyes, though his gaze softened just a little when he saw how uncomfortable I felt at the tension that was rising from them together. Sighing to myself, I could only choose to diffuse the situation by letting Yoongi go on his way.

“It’s okay. You have that date to go to and it won’t be long before Kara gets here anyway,” I told Yoongi, though it was clear that he didn’t exactly enjoy accepting my choice.

“You sure?” he asked again, to which I only nodded. He came to my bed while shaking his head, but he chose not to say a thing when he kissed my forehead aside from telling me to call him if I needed anything. “Promise me to let me know if anything happens.”

“I promise.”

He gave me a final nod before turning to the doorway, where Jungkook was still standing. Both of them stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before Jungkook finally stepped aside to allow him to pass without saying a word to each other.

The moment Yoongi left, the air between us rippled into a different kind of tension. When it was only between him and Yoongi, all I could feel was their rage, their hostility against each other. But now, as Jungkook was making his way slowly towards the bed, there was a sense of awkwardness that grew between us.

Only a year ago, he was the only man that I had ever loved. Though our marriage was not perfect, he was still a huge part of me that I called home, no matter how lonely that ‘home’ would feel like at times. Tonight, it felt like he was a stranger. There was still a pull inside my chest that felt so tight I could hardly breathe, but it was not enough to have me opening my arms to welcome him with a warm embrace.

Jungkook looked around the room with a wry smile on his face. “You’ve kept the flowers,” he murmured softly as he saw all the white flowers that still remained, finding each one being kept in different vases in all sizes before looking back at me.

“Kara and my nurse, Soyeon, took care of them. If the boys had been the ones who received them, they’d end up somewhere else,” I told him with a chuckle, choosing not to tell him that there had been some that had only ended being tossed into the trash. Mostly on Yoongi’s doing, because Hoseok had always opted on passing them on to the other female nurses who had slowly grown into becoming his admirers.

Jungkook nodded as he listened, and I noticed that his grip on the bouquet had somehow tightened. “May I?” he asked, pointing at the empty chair next to my bed which Yoongi had been using all day.

“Sure,” I said, as I watched him take his seat.

“Here, these are for you,” he said to me as he handed the small bouquet of white roses to me, forcing me to peel my fingers away from the sheets that I had been clutching tightly ever since the moment he appeared at the door.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My fingers felt cold when I took the flowers from his hands. My skin crawled when our fingers touched. It was an odd feeling, when in the past, each of his gentle touches would be able to send my heart racing and my body would shudder in pleasure. It truly felt like he was no longer a part of me, as if the years we shared together had been a distant memory that was no longer mine.

I instantly pulled my hand away and kept the flowers on my lap. I didn’t miss the way he flinched when I avoided his touch, nor did I miss the look of hurt and disappointment that lingered in his eyes when he saw me clutching the flowers tightly on my lap, as if I was using them as a shield to protect me from him.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked after a brief moment of silence. He cleared his throat and blushed when he noticed me looking up. “I, uh—I heard the surgery is in a couple of days.”

I nodded. “Two days,” I said, and my heartbeat accelerated almost immediately. He must have noticed it when my skin blanched, when the rush of panic came over me.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” I quickly told him. “It’s just that it feels surreal, dealing with it. I still haven’t completely wrapped my mind around it. It felt like a long time ago when I agreed to go through with it, so I’ve tried not to think about it too much. But then, suddenly it’s only days apart.”

Jungkook nodded as he tried to understand, and the concerned look on his face remained. “You’ll get through this just fine, I know it.”

I looked up, giving him a small smile. “How can you be so sure?”

Pressing his lips, Jungkook avoided my gaze for a moment. “Because you’re strong,” he finally said to me. “You’re always the stronger one between us. You’ve gotten through everything and still came out of it in one piece, whereas I could only burn things to dust and destroy everything I touched.”

Shaking my head, my words slipped out of me before I could stop them. “Not everything.”

His gaze found me, looking surprised to hear what I said, while I had to look away when once again all of the good memories that we had shared together went through my mind. My fingers clenched tighter around the flowers when I wondered just how everything fell into pieces, though what was left inside me was nothing but a numbing rage, when all the hurt he had given me had seized to give me pain since a long time ago.

Jungkook shifted in his seat, pulling my attention back to him. He was still avoiding my gaze, giving me a chance to finally take him all in. There were a lot of changes going on with him. He had always looked pristine, even when he was hiding his pain inside him. But there were also those moments in time, especially while we were battling for our divorce, when he looked terribly broken. He had stopped taking care of himself, leaving his hair constantly messy and his face looking dark and gloomy. I remembered seeing his eyes red and swollen, with deep, dark bags under them growing darker each time with all the sleepless nights he went through and all the drinking that he had resorted to just to escape from everything.

Now, he had looked much better, making good of his words to take care of himself while I was battling my own illness. His body had grown toned and broader, a sign that he had reserved back to working out and eating healthy again. His eyes were much brighter than how I had seen him last, as he had promised me time and time again that he would stop drinking so he could always be in his clear mind while he was supporting me. And then I caught the sight of his hair, looking thicker and longer as he styled them to the back of his head.

“You look good,” I said, making him look at me again. “Healthier. And you’ve kept your hair longer.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not on purpose,” he admitted with a shrug. “I used to have my wife reminding me to go to the barbershop. Sometimes she would do it herself, have me sit down in the kitchen as she would cut my hair for me. Now, I can’t even decide what style of hair to choose for myself because I’d never know what would look good for me.”

I looked down just as my eyes started burning. There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from building up, threatening to flow like a river.

“Sorry, fuck—” I heard Jungkook’s voice cursing at himself before he leaned forward, catching my wrist and holding it gently in his hold. His thumb began rubbing gently on my skin and the dam of tears just broke apart. “I really need to learn how to shut up, but I just cannot help myself.”

I laughed nervously, though they came out with a round of sobbing when I continued crying. It took a moment before I calmed down. As much as I hated to admit it, the way he was softly holding my hand truly helped put myself together.

“I do miss you. That’s not a lie,” he whispered softly, meeting my eyes when I looked up. He reached out with his free hand, brushing my tears away. “You might not see it, but it feels so empty without you. I tried. I promise you, I have tried. Not to move on by seeing anyone else, because other women always remind me of you, but I try to live my life the best I could, to take care of myself the way you would do it for me, but nothing could fill up the empty space you left behind.”

Shaking my head, I tried to pull away from him. “Jungkook—”

His grip tightened, and he refused to let me go. “No, I’m not doing this to beg you to come back. I swear. I just want to tell you how I feel before I’d explode.”

Drawing a shaky breath, I tried my best to calm my heartbeat before I looked at him again. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

Jungkook looked at me for a moment longer then nodded his head. “Sure,” he said, before he proceeded in telling me things about what he had been doing lately. He made me laugh when he talked about meeting up with his friends, reuniting with his mates from college and spending the whole night playing pool.

“No, I didn’t drink,” he said to me when I asked him about it. “Been sober for almost six months now. There’s no way I can break that promise to you now,” he added, making me smile wider with relief brewing in my chest. “Eunwoo got a bit crazy though. Seconds after he agreed to join me on the next AA meeting, he ordered a full bottle of a 12 years-old Macallan and finished almost three-quarters of it on his own.”

“And the only thing you drank was Coke?”

Nodding his head, he smiled proudly. “Yes, Ma’am. I was on my best behaviour the whole night,” he said, and I felt instantly proud of him. The feeling was bittersweet, however, because I couldn’t stop wondering what our lives would have been like if he had as much control back then when we were together.

“I’m glad,” was all that I could say to him. “I’m happy to know that you’re living a better life.”

Pressing his lips together, he reached out to grab my hand. “And you are going to be there to continue watching me as I make better changes in my life, so you can witness me as I grow to be the man that you can feel proud of,” he said to me, and another set of tears escaped from me. Tightening his hold on my hand, he reached out to my chin and turned my face so I could look at him.

“Listen to me. You’re going to get through this, be stronger and healthier. I know you would. I know it’s scary, but I’m here. As much as I want to beg for you to come back to me, the only thing I need for you is to fight a good fight. We’ll get through this, and we will both have a much better life. We’ll watch each other as we both move on and find our happiness, to make the most of the rest of our lives, whether we’re doing it together or apart. Okay?”

At this point, I was a sobbing mess. The fear was still clawing from within. But his words gave me a new strength that I never knew I could still feel. It probably wouldn’t be enough to make sure that I could make it through, but it was enough to help me look at what was beyond me with a different kind of light.

As I looked into his eyes, I found a new kind of calmness that I had thought I had lost. What I saw in his eyes then would never be the same as what I had seen from him in the past, when he was the reason for me to carry on. But for now, this was more than enough. Taking one last deep, shaky breath, I looked straight into his eyes and nodded. I knew it was wrong to take comfort from the same man that had caused me a lot of pain, the same man that had also caused all the darkest times of my life.

But I knew that he was right and I needed to engulf myself in the comfort of his warmth just as long as I could find strength in them. No matter how scary it would be, I knew that I had to fight it. I needed to. And I had to survive through this no matter what.

“Okay.”

Jimin finally came to see me on the last day I had before the surgery.

It only took waking up to his smile to feel like I was coming alive again, even though I had to take a moment to make sure that I was not dreaming, that he was actually there.

I looked over his shoulder, noticing that the sky outside the window was still dark. the sun had barely come up, which meant that he came in way before the first round of nurses started. On the couch across the room, I saw Kara still deep in her sleep. She had come around the time Jungkook was ready to leave last night, and she had stayed all night to keep me company.

Out of everyone, Kara had been the one who would stay with me overnight. She has admitted once that she was worried that I would feel lonely should I ever wake up in the middle of the night without anyone by my side.

Another reason for her to stay was because of the memory we shared about my Mom. At one of the conversations that we have had where we talked about my mother, I had told her about the late-night phone calls that my Mom made while she was ill. Her eyes instantly lost their light, knowing that one of the many reasons why my mother had been left in the hospital all by herself during those times were because of her. Because my father had chosen to spend the night with his mistress instead of staying by my mother’s side.

“I would remember her whenever I think about you sleeping alone at night in this lousy hospital, afraid and lonely,” she said once after she had asked for a cot and an extra blanket for her to sleep in. “I won’t be able to sleep well at night when it happens. Take it as my redemption. I can’t change the past, but I sure as hell won’t let the same thing happen to you.”

Gentle kisses along my knuckles brought me back to the man sitting next to my bed. Jimin smiled at me when I looked at him. He had my hand in his grip, his lips pressing on my skin as he trailed soft kisses that sent delicate shivers through my body. His touches were enough to warm me up against the cold air conditioner blasting in the room.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, making sure to keep it down so he wouldn’t wake Kara.

“Morning,” I answered him, still completely in a daze as I took in the sight of him. “You’re really here.”

His gaze softened as he gave me a wry smile. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to come and see you again,” he said, and only then did I realise that his voice was hoarse and weak, hidden in his whispers.

And then it took him pulling away for me to notice everything that I had missed—the wheelchair he was sitting on, the thinning hair under his beanie hat, the bags under his red-rimmed eyes, the sunken cheeks, the blisters on his lips—and my heart dropped.

“Jimin—” I choked, to which he quickly pressed a finger on my lips to stop me from talking.

“Sshh—I know, I look like hell,” he said, chuckling softly. Though the sound immediately turned into a set of coughs until he managed to take a deep breath and hold it in. “And I’ve been through hell.”

My eyes burned with tears, but I did all I could to stop them from falling. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from questioning him, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone—”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry about me when you already have so much to worry about on yourself,” he said to me with a sad smile. “I asked the nurses to not tell you anything. I couldn’t leave my room and let you see me when I was at my worse. You need to focus on yourself, on what’s happening tomorrow. I should be the last thing in your mind to worry about.”

Shaking my head, I leaned towards him and let him took my hand in his once again. “It’s not fair.”

He smiled at me and said, “It’s only fair. I shouldn’t be in the way of your recovery.”

“You never were. I need you, and I want to be there to support you too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here now. I’ve done all I could to get strong enough to be here today so I could see you,” he said, pulling my hand in his so he could place my palm on his cheek, giving me a chance to feel him. “You know that I will always be here to support you.”

“Always? Promise?” He only answered me with a nod of his head, but it was enough for now. “Can you stay here with me?”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder and tipped his head. “Will your guardian let me?”

I looked over to Kara’s sleeping form and smiled. “She has to.”

And indeed she did. Kara knew how much I had missed Jimin and how his presence helped make a lot of changes that she even let Jimin use the cot that she had neglected the night before so he could rest once in a while. Even the nurses had come to let Jimin take his medicines without him returning to his room.

“Told you that things would be easier if we had just been placed in the same room,” Jimin joked at Soyeon when she came into the room while shaking her head at him. His comment surprised me as I had never thought he would even consider it.

“You asked them for a room transfer?”

Jimin shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Hey, I tried. I’ve thought about it ever since you got sick from your trips down the halls at night to see me.”

I looked at him, not believing what I just heard. Never once in my mind I had considered it possible for us to share a room that I had pushed away every hope of making it happen. I was completely speechless that all I could do was hold his hand. It was Soyeon who spoke next, breaking the moment we were sharing.

“If you want, I can submit another request once you’ve gone through the surgery,” she said, while Jimin and I exchanged looks.

“Can you do that?”

Soyeon glanced at Kara who was now giving her a hopeful look and smiled. “I can ask your doctor to have permission for transfer,” she answered me with a wink.

“If Doctor Kim agrees, then it’ll leave only one last hurdle that might get in the way,” Jimin said, breaking whatever spell we were in before either one of us even had a chance to celebrate the possible good news.

“What is it?”

Jimin gave me a sad smile and said, “Your ex-husband.”

It was finally the day of the surgery.

Everyone had been here with me since this morning, waiting in the room with me. While my anxiety had peaked through the roof the day before, I was surprisingly calm ever since I had woken up this morning. Meanwhile, everyone else seemed to be on the edge since the moment I woke up and it even got worse when the nurse came in just one hour before I was supposed to be taken to the operating room, handing me the last medicine for the day.

The frown on Hoseok’s face kept on slipping out no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his smile. Even the years that had passed during the period of time when we fell apart couldn’t change the fact that I knew my brother. That I would be able to catch on to his emotions so easily despite his efforts of hiding them from me.

He was not the only one who was restless, as Yoongi kept fidgeting in his seat. He had been silent all day, tension continued to roll out of his shoulders as he sat with Hoseok across the room.

As I was forbidden to consume any food or water, Kara found nothing to do to distract herself and she had opted to stay by my side. I had to respect her for trying her best to stay calm, though the moment she held my hand and she started praying for the two of us, it almost felt like I was the one calming her down until her fingers stopped shaking.

“It’ll be okay,” I finally said to her when she gave me yet another forced smile the moment our eyes met. But everyone in the room knew that I was speaking for all of us, especially myself, when I added, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Jimin came to my room just when it was almost time for me to go. He came in on his wheelchair, with Nurse Soyeon pushing him into the room. Everyone instantly stepped aside to give us space, allowing Jimin to settle down next to the bed, where he took my hand to hold and he could lean in just close enough to give me a kiss.

“I’ll be here until the moment they come to pick you up,” he whispered to me between his gentle kisses, then gave me another promise before he pulled away, “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

After that moment, time seemed to stand still. Neither of my family dared to speak, afraid that any word they said would burst any bubble that we found ourselves in, to allow the reality to sink in and take over the serene feeling we were having. But they kept hovering around me, making sure that I was calm and ready, though I felt more numb than I was probably supposed to.

It wasn’t until the moment when Soyeon returned with another nurse from our floor, pushing a gurney into the room with the help of an orderly, when the silent tension in the room broke apart.

“It’s time,” Soyeon said to me with a calm voice that did nothing to stop my heartbeat from pacing rapidly in my chest. Jimin must have sensed the change in my mood, because he immediately pulled me to him and held me tight, whispering sweet words to calm me down.

“It’s okay, baby. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes and focus on me,” he kept telling me, making sure that I followed his words until I was breathing calmly again.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I nodded at Soyeon after giving Jimin one last kiss and sending one last smile to my family.

As everyone stepped back and I was carefully transferred from the bed to the gurney, the numbness returned to me and I let myself to be engulfed in it. Even the pain that came piercing through my spine during the transfer couldn’t snap me out of it. The sense of calm felt even stronger as Jimin grabbed my hand and gave me one last squeeze only moments before the orderly began pushing me out of the room.

“I’ll come with you,” I heard Hoseok said, as if watching me leave the room had snapped him out of his trance and he quickly rushed to walk alongside the gurney as we left our family behind. The last thing I saw when I took one last glance was Yoongi placing his arm around Kara’s shoulders as she cried soundlessly, and Jimin smiling at me as he placed his palm over Kara’s hand that was resting on his shoulder.

The trip from my room towards the operating section on our floor felt like an eternity. I barely paid attention to our surroundings as we made a few turns down the hallways, focusing more on my breathing pattern as I kept myself calm, until I suddenly saw him standing not too far from the doorways leading to the operating area.

“Jungkook,” I called out to him as the gurney slowed down to a stop right where he was waiting for me. He nodded briefly at Hoseok before he turned to me, giving me a warm smile despite the way his eyes were watching me closely as if he was afraid I would disappear.

“You came,” I said, and he nodded.

“I decided I’d wait for you out here so you could have a moment with your family,” he told me, and my eyes moved to his hands, where I found yet another bouquet of white flowers, and his smile widened as he followed my gaze.

“These flowers will be waiting for you in your room to greet you once you return,” Jungkook said, before he leaned down, pressing his lips on my forehead as he whispered. “You’re going to be alright.”

His eyes were glassy with tears when he straightened up, but he forced himself to smile as he brushed gently at my cheek for one last time before he stepped back, allowing the gurney to pass. I kept my eyes on him until I could no longer see him, and Hoseok pulled my attention right before he had to let me go.

“We’ll be waiting for you out here,” he said to me while squeezing my shoulder gently. I could tell that he was trying his best not to cry in front of me, so I put on my brave face and smiled.

“Make sure to buy me some of my favourite ice creams when I come back, will you?”

He nodded and chuckled softly. “I’ll fill up the fridge with them for you.”

“Ready?”

The nurse that was going to assist the surgeons was the one I was not familiar with, but she was friendly and nice that I stayed calm despite the complicated preparations that would have scared me away. I already felt slightly intimidated just minutes ago, when I was pushed into this room with only strangers standing around me. But the thought of my family who would be waiting right outside those doors, and knowing that Dr. Kim would also be here to assist the procedure, all had done more than calm my nerves that all I had to do was wait until this moment would come.

“I’m going to put this mask on you. Just breathe in normally, and you will feel sleepy in no time. Just don’t panic, and focus on counting down or just think of good things, okay?”

“Okay,” I told her, nodding my head before I let her put the breathing mask on my face.

She gave me a smile that was hidden under her mask as I settled back down on the bed, while she carried on with the preparations, helping the surgeons and welcoming Dr. Kim as he came into my line of sight.

His voice was calm, but I barely paid attention to any word he said to me as he introduced the other doctors that had come in with him. I only responded with a nod to each time he spoke, until he instructed me to continue breathing as the only thing they needed to do was to wait until the anaesthetic drugs they had given me would take effect.

Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion afterwards. It felt as if I had left my body and I was watching things unfolding from the outside looking in. I followed the nurse’s instruction as I began breathing normally, taking deep breaths while counting down slowly, until I started to feel heavy with sleep. It didn’t take long until I finally gave in as there was never a fight in me to stop me from getting under, and I felt myself drifting away merely seconds after.

That was when everything happened.

They had all said that when you went under, your whole senses would not be able to tell you about anything happening around you, leaving you completely oblivious to what they were doing to your body.

That was not what seemed to be happening to me.

My senses were completely numb, but I was still there. I was still present. My body was no longer moving, but I was terribly aware. A thick blanket of darkness folded around me, cloaking me from the world that still existed around me. I had lost the ability to feel a thing. There was no pain, not a hint of the slightest of touches they made on me, but I knew they were all there.

My mind registered their presence in the form of shadows. Looming, hovering, moving around me while I was rooted as their center. I could feel their movements even through the fog of darkness, but I could feel none of their touch. I heard nothing but a steady hum, drowning me deeper into the darkness, though some of the voices I heard made it seem more like I was drowning underwater.

And then it happened, and suddenly, I could hear it all almost too clearly.

It started with a steady beep, before it began to rise, sounding louder by the second, and then it went faster. The humming sound around me began to rise as well, growing steadily intense. They sounded almost similar to voices of people shouting, only that everything was muffled, like everything was happening under the current of water. The beeping noise grew louder, breaking through the fog, and then louder, turning into an alarming sound as the shouting continued.

An odd feeling of chill washed over me.

And then everything went still.

Author’s note:

I’m sorry this took a long time, and I know that you must be hating me for that ending lol

Don’t worry, every single question you may have at the moment will be answered soon. We’re so close to the final chapters and I am terribly nervous about it, not going to lie. But, before we can finally get there, we’ll be having an extra chapter coming in the way.

Yes, your requests have been answered. We’ll be getting into Taehyung’s side of the story on the next chapter before we can find more answers to what had happened to all of them in the past.

Stay tuned for the next update. Thank you for all of your support!

—  © 2021 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

[fatefulfaerie]

A Century Apart Part 1/2

Kakariko without the stench of blood in the air was frankly sickening to Zelda’s lungs. 

She had trouble breathing in the air that took so long to clear, that had forgotten the war of a century prior, that was normal to an entire country of people that had become accustomed to a post-apocalyptic Hyrule. 

When she had first arrived here, Link draped as best as she could manage over his horse, she was frankly overwhelmed with nausea, some of it due to her worry at Link collapsing moments after an unanswered question, some of it due to the blood caked on his tunic, and some of it due to her terrible, terrible, stomach twisting guilt for making it here alive. 

It was night now, and the twelve hours that Link spent recuperating in his slumber had felt to Zelda like an entire week. She tossed around a circular slice of orange carrot as she sat with worry twinging her heart. Normally sitting on the floor to eat as the Sheikah were accustomed to would have made her back hurt, but she paid little mind to her back.

Impa cleared her throat, and so Zelda looked up and across the table. The noise was so familiar that she almost expected to see the Impa she knew, in her twenties and incredibly agile.

Yet this Impa had eyes that had aged, eyes that had faded from a red as bright as cranberries to a hazel, a common side effect of Sheikah aging.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Impa said, wrinkles and all, her face more spotted and much more round nowadays. “I know the carrots aren’t your absolute favorite but you always used to love when I made Seafood Rice Balls.”

Zelda nodded, and faked a small smile, although it came off as a simple pursing of her lips.

“Yeah, I…I remember,” she muttered quietly as she tore away her glance, looking back down at her plate. The scientist within her knew that she was, in fact, hungry and needed food to sustain herself, yet the princess with her wasn’t quite ready for such indulgence, for such luxury. 

She began with a carrot.

It was soft, obviously well-cooked as her teeth bit upon food for the first time in a hundred years. It was buttered and salted and spiced with something she didn’t recognize, something they wouldn’t have typically served at the castle.

She almost forgot how to swallow as the chewed-up orange mush threatened to trail down her throat, but she gulped the single slice of carrot down nonetheless. 

It felt strange, eating, and it felt strange that it felt strange.

She could tell Impa was watching her eat, especially as she dove the chopsticks into the Rice Balls that, over a hundred years, she forgot she missed.

“When was the last time Link was in Kakariko?” Zelda asked, reacquainting herself with the texture and taste of the white rice, the seasoned fish on top of it, the leafy seaweed around it. She didn’t dare to meet Impa’s glance.

“About a week ago,” Impa said. “He came to restock, as he does occasionally. It wasn’t a long visit, though. I suppose he had places to be.”

Zelda nodded, using the cloth napkin on her lap to wipe away any stray particles of food from her mouth. It was almost an instinct, the way she was trained to always be proper, the way her back was straight were she sat, the way she refused to let herself be and just put her elbows on the table. Paya obviously had no problem with it when she ate earlier. Zelda envied her casual manner, living decades upon decades away from a kingdom.

Zelda didn’t expect Impa to reach out and grab her hand, and thus she almost ripped her hand away she was so unaccustomed to it. Zelda looked up.

“He is going to be okay,” Impa insisted slowly and calmly with eyes aged with wisdom. Zelda had no choicest to truly trust them. “He pushed himself very hard to save Hyrule and to bring you back. I would wager he hasn’t slept in days…and the injuries he ignored, well, it’s about time they caught up to him.”

“S-sorry to interrupt,” Paya stammered. Zelda didn’t even hear her come back down the stairs. “It…it’s Link.”

“What’s wrong?” Zelda asked standing up completely panicked. “Is he okay?”

“Oh gosh I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Paya said. “He’s fine, he’s just stirring. You said you wanted to be there when he woke up?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding, her hand lightly fisted at her chest. “Y-yes, of course. Please lead the way.”

He didn’t look any different when Zelda finished the last steps of the stairs, Link coming into view. His face was still terribly scratched up and bruised. The only difference now was that Paya had-and she would have to ask later how a Sheikah could be so stealthy as to wrap a person’s chest without waking them up-dressed Link in bandages to brace his broken ribs. There was a fair amount of blood on the bed from the gash on his leg, but it seemed to be well-sewn up now, the wound cleaned and covered with a fresh bandage. There was also a half-empty bottle of a familiar dark purple elixir, a common painkiller among Hylians. Zelda used to use it for headaches.

She could she the way his blue eyes had begun to shine through eyelids. The room was dark, lighted only with candles that smelled of lavender and honey. It seemed so long ago that they had brought Link in, Zelda suggesting they keep the main lanterns in the room doused so that Link could perhaps sleep sounder.

“Link?” She asked as she stepped forward, the combination of her lack of stealth and her thin brown sandals making the wooden floor creak.

She knelt at his bedside and repeated her query.

“Link,” she said. It was now a whisper, like she was pretending to be the lover she never was to him.

The fatigued hero hummed as he blinked open his eyes lethargically.

“Zelda,” he said, softly in his half-awake state with a small smile. The former princess assumed it was because he knew of her presence before his head rolled over to her and he flipped out with wide eyes. It was as if someone had put smelling salt underneath his nose, the way he bolted upright.

“P-princess! I…” Zelda watched with equal parts awe and glee as he ignored the extremely likely pain in his ribs to fix his messy bedhead. Not to say he was in any way successful. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Link,” Zelda said, in such a soothing way that Link froze immediately. It may have also been because she placed a hand on his cheek. Zelda gently guided him back down to lay on the pillow.

“You look fine,” she assured him. “And you are in no condition to do anything but rest.”

Link’s icy blue eyes pleaded for something Zelda couldn’t place. They looked at her, studied her in a way Zelda wasn’t used to.

“Princess, I…” he began, but his words faltered, as if his intended sentence just walked off a cliff, accidentally ran out of room on the ledge and was now falling and forgotten. “I would like to call you Zelda,” he finally said. “Is that all right?”

Zelda nodded, and had to keep from tearing up.

“Yes,” she said, water making her green eyes shine like emeralds. “I would actually prefer that.”

It looked as if Link had something else to say, and yet he hesitated with a hitched breath. Zelda hesitated too, not what to say, but whether or not it was fair to reveal that she could read him like a book. It was a byproduct of their time together a hundred years ago, a time he may not have any recollection of at all, a time he may even be scared of. It was for those reasons that she demonstrated her patience instead, taking his hand and fooling herself that she was conveying her care with her eyes.

“I remember you, by the way,” Link said.

Zelda shifted slightly. There were so many memories between them and so many things that could be assumed between the memories that she couldn’t help but fear what story he had construed.

“I remember you not liking me,” Link continued, Zelda sighing, opening and closing her eyes with a slight cringe. Of all the things for him to remember. 

But he didn’t stop there.

“I remember you warming up to me and us becoming friends…at least I think.”

Zelda had looked down at her hand, the way her thumb ran up and down his palm.

“Do you remember anything else?” Zelda asked, tilting up her head. Link seemed genuinely out of answers and that’s what broke her heart the most.

“Is there something I should remember?” Link asked. Zelda shook her head.

“No,” Zelda said quietly, detaching her hand from Link’s. “It’s nothing of consequence.”

She moved her hand to his forehead, brushing aside a lock of his dirty blonde bangs. 

“I’m glad you’re recovering well, Link,” she said softly. “I’ll leave you to your rest. We can talk more later if you’d like.”

She stood up to leave but didn’t get far, Link’s hand grabbing her wrist and seizing her heart.

“Wait,” was the word he spoke to explain himself. Zelda turned her head to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but be surprised that Link had indeed, meant to grab her, was entreating her with those soulful blue eyes, deep as an ocean and filled to the brim with conflicting emotions.

“There’s more to it than what I remember,” he said. “There’s…well there’s how those memories make me feel.”

“What do you mean?” Zelda said, turning her body but refusing to kneel at his bedside, her cautious heart already shattered enough to not risk being broken even more.

“Whenever I remembered something that happened between us,” Link began. “I would try to draw you, would try to capture your beauty, but the image of you was always fleeting. Sometimes I forgot whether your hair was truly blonde, whether your eyes were brown or green, whether or not freckles dotted upon your nose, your cheeks, what the shape of your face was. But each time I tried to draw you I felt like I was getting both closer to and farther away from perfection.”

“Link,” Zelda said as she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either at first,” Link continued. “I didn’t understand why I was so enthralled by your beauty, why the sound of your voice twinged my heart, why the thought of your touch made me feel the warmth of my blood.” 

Zelda knew what he was describing, and she knew it well. It was for that reason that she couldn’t believe his words, that she searched within her lungs for the ability to breathe.

“Link,” she said breathlessly, finally kneeling down. “A-are you saying…?

She couldn’t even finish her question but Link nodded nonetheless.

“Once I realized it was a crush,” he said. “I tried to ignore it, telling myself that nothing in my memories indicated anything more than an obligatory friendship, that it was disrespectful to think in such a way of someone who was royalty, but…” He bit his lip. “No cliff was as easy to descend as the one that dictates love. I fell quickly and I fell fast. It felt familiar too, like something was in ruins inside me but this time, it was simple to salvage, to rebuild and to…” Link chuckled. “I can’t think of another word.”

Zelda was speechless, her mouth slightly parted and her eyes frozen. Link didn’t expect his declaration of love to be so paralyzing.

“I-I guess I,” Link said, continuing in the absence of Zelda’s words. “I kind of got the feeling that you also have similar…” Link looked for another word, but it didn’t exist in his brain “…feelings…” He inwardly cringed. “So I figured I would bring up the subject...but maybe I...shouldn’t...have?”

Zelda was quiet, almost too quiet, before she stood and finally said five words, five words that left Link in the dust of such an anticlimactic response.

“You never talked this much,” she said, before shooting him with green eyes filled with conflict and pity and turning around to walk back down the stairs.

[jawritter]

Where The Green Grass Grows

Chapter 3

Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow.

Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager.

He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Warnings:  Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, fear of moving on.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word  Count: 1652

Dividers: @firefly-graphics​

A/N: This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work. Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

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“Ugh! Is this day ever going to end!” you groan as you flop down onto the unoccupied stool that was sitting in front of the bar. Old country music was blaring overhead and the chatter of customers filled the room. The smell of fast food was always so thick in this place that sometimes you felt it was suffocating, and today was one of those days. 

You wanted nothing more than to go home and sink into a hot bath with a glass of wine and a book. You only had one more hour, if you could just make it one more hour, then you could go home. 

“You’re getting out of here before closing at least,” Jess said as she came to drop some ones and fives into the cash register beside you. “I’m stuck here until closing tonight.” 

You were just about to point out how she would at least get good tips with it being a Saturday, but the sound of the door chiming alerted you both to the incoming customer, and you could tell by the grin on her face who had just walked in without even having to turn around. 

Jensen had been coming in every day since he’d come in that Sunday after church with his family. At first, he would come in and not say a lot, just sit at the bar or back corner booth and order his meal. He would try and make light conversation with you, nothing too alarming or out of the ordinary of what any other regular does. 

Then about a week in he started to try and make more in-depth conversations with you as you worked around him, either cleaning tables or waiting on him specifically. 

Jess had been running around you for days now insisting that Jensen had a crush on you. You yourself were not as convinced as she was. Sure, he was devastatingly attractive, and sure, he was an absolute sweetheart; but that didn’t change the fact that no matter how attractive you found him you were not in his league. 

“Hey ladies,” he said, flopping down next to you, and giving you a soft smile that seemed to make your knees weak every time he did that. 

“Well, well, look who’s back already,” Jess quips to him with a smirk of her own. Jensen laughs a little and shakes his head before taking the drink that she was handing him from across the counter. He’d been in here so much that you both could just about guess his order before he even got around to telling it. 

“I had to see my favorite girls,” he said, throwing his arm around you playfully, and causing a blush to burn deep in your cheeks. You were slightly thankful for the bell ringing that told you table three’s order was ready. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jensen, and if he saw you blushing you were sure you would literally die on the spot. 

You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you as you grabbed the tray of burgers and fries, and made your way over to the table where your customers were waiting. You were hoping that it would give you enough of a moment to collect your nerves before making your way back over to the bar where Jensen and Jess were still sitting. 

You had been doing some research on Jensen since you’d met him that day he’d left you the note and the large tip. Some things he’d already told you. Like his long-running show ending, the divorce he’d recently gone through, he’d told you about his three kids. The thing that bothered you the most, aside from why the hell he was hanging out here with you, was why they divorced?

He had still not told you that much, and you didn’t want to just out and out ask him, but the tabloids seemed to think it was because he was a cheater, and then some think it was because she cheated, which leads to a whole new set of rumors that go from Jensen being an abusive husband, to Danneel being a whore, and it was impossible to tell what was true and what was false. 

You knew it shouldn’t bother you, and you were in no way going to ask him what happened with his last marriage, but you wanted to know all the same. Your eyes drifted up to meet his piercing gaze as you grabbed the empty napkin holder from the table to replace it with a fresh one, and he sent you that same soft smile.

He was so contradictory to everything you had ever heard about celebrity men. He seemed so kind. He listened when you talked to him, and seemed legitimately to care about what you were saying. He was so self-sacrificing in everything he seemed to be involved in, and whatever he was doing, he seemed to put his all into it. He was passionate and caring, and everything any girl ever dreamed of getting when she was grew up.

The only problem you had was the fear that these feelings were one-sided and that you were mistaking his kind personality for something more, even though you knew you were nowhere near this man’s type. 

You had seen the pictures of his ex-wife, and you knew there was no way you’d ever be able to measure up to someone as beautiful as she was. So you knew that you had to get these emotions, this crush, under control before he comes in one day with another pretty girl on his arm, and it was all over for your heart. 

Why did you have to have a crush on someone so completely perfect, and at the same time so completely out of reach as soon as you decided to try and put yourself back out there? It was unfair at best, and tragic at it’s worse.  

Taking a deep breath you make your way back over to your current seat, and look up at the clock. Jensen didn’t miss the small glance and turned on his seat to face you fully, his gorgeous bowed legs spread and his knee touching yours, but he didn’t seem to mind or at least notice. You, on the other hand, you noticed, and it took a lot to concentrate because of the small contact his body was making with your own. 

“So, when do you get off today?” Jensen asked, grabbing a fry and shoving it in his mouth as a plate of food was placed in front of him.

“In about thirty minutes,” you tell him with a deep sigh, it had been a long shift. 10 am to 7 pm was the worst because it took up most of your day, and you got the bad end of both shifts, lunch and then dinner rush. 

“Oh,” he said, his handsome face falling a bit. “I was hoping I’d have a little longer to talk to you before you got off. I would have come in sooner, but I was on a Zoom call with my agency,” he said, some stress returning to his shoulders as he busied himself with his fries again. 

“Well, I’m here for a little bit,” you tell him, giving his knee a playful nudge with yours and earning a cheeky chuckle from him. “Are you getting ready to go back to California anytime soon?” you asked him, more than a little afraid of what the answer was going to be. 

You had gotten used to him coming in every day, and you didn’t like the thought that he might be leaving again. 

“No, not now anyway. That was just check-in and updates, more a waste of time than anything.”

You hoped the amount of relief you felt didn't show on your face as much as you thought it must have, and you had to bite down on your lip to stop the smile that started to creep up there. When you looked up at him you wondered how it was possible that his eyes could sparkle like that all the time.

“Well, what are you going to be doing then Mr. Ackles. You’re going to get tired of being here every day after a while. Texas doesn’t have as much to offer as L.A. I’m sure.” 

Jensen hummed and you could have sworn that his eyes traveled down to your lips before looking back up to meet your eyes again. 

“That’s a matter of perspective sweetheart.” 

You thought that you heard his voice dropped a whole octave, and you had to suppress the shudder that wanted to roll through your body. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had been gravitating closer to one another while you were talking until Jess came and cleared her throat loudly from behind the bar. 

“You two love birds better be careful now, Y/N is still on the clock, and table six needs a refill.” 

Jensen clears his throat and sits up quickly, grabbing his drink as if his life depended on it, and you turned towards the counter as if you had been shot. 

“I’ll just go get that,” you mumble as Jensen chuckles and watches you run off to refill the drinks.

“Keep trying Jensen, she’ll come around,” Jess told him, and Jensen gave her a tight smile in return. 

“Oh, I don’t give up so easily on something I want,” Jensen said as he took a healthy bite from his burger, his eyes still trained to you as you talked to your customers. 

He didn’t know how, but he had to get you to open up to him. He thought he’d never feel this way about someone again after his world fell apart, but you were just the breath of fresh air that would keep him from drowning.

@deandreamernp

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[newathens]

in honor of everything that happened on aug 18th the good and the bad here is a scene from secrets that has been collecting dust for a year and may never get its moment but it is where luke castellan gets a chance to speak and it deserves to b seen at least once

LUKE:

     Fresh donuts sat up on the counter, the sweet smell of frosting wafting through the space. The place was warm; their air conditioner busted. It was a random Wednesday at eleven in the morning so there weren’t many bystanders, though the few that were around kept stealing glances towards me. A mother lost in thought touched her cheek and when she caught me looking back, ducked her head. I kept tapping the tabletop with my knuckles, wondering how hard I’d have to whine to get the waitress to give me a chocolate glaze. She’d already passed by three times out of worry.

     The shining, silver bell shook and rang as the diner door opened. 

     He stood in the entryway for a long moment, taking in the length of the diner. It took him two tries to notice me, but when he did, the neutral expression he’d worn shifted into a deep frown. He approached the booth slowly and held my gaze all the while.

    “Not funny,” Hermes said. I smiled with all the gusto of a fourteen-year-old.

    “Sorry,” I said, voice dropping several octaves as I aged ten years. “I couldn’t help myself. Too soon?” He took a seat without another word. Blonde hair, blue eyes—nothing much had changed; in fact, there wasn’t a trace of greying hair to be found. He seemed fit, youthful. “I thought we’d leave some mark on your complexions.” He gave a tight smile and said nothing, but in the silence I noticed it. An airy presence, circling around me much like the scent of the pastries. It wasn’t threatening, just curious, like a snake amongst the forest floor.

     He was checking me.

     I did the same to him and watched, rather gleefully, as his eyes widened in recognition. It felt strange, kind of annoying. Is this how gods’ felt? Striped raw, bodies vibrating like giant batteries next to one another?

       His search turned up short, but mine didn’t.

      “Jean pocket, out with it.”

      He sighed and placed a gold iPhone in the middle of the table. The caduceus shimmered on its back. 

     Oh, look who it is! Martha said.

     “Nice to see you,” I said.

     I didn’t say this was nice!

      “And you too, George.”

     Hey, Luke, he said, if you take over his position, will you get to keep us?

     “I’d hope so, you two are a riot.”

     “Comical,” Hermes said. “Both of you keep quiet.” We looked at each other again, ready to speak but unsure how to start. The waitress beat us to it.

     “How can I—oh!” She nearly snapped her pencil in half. Her eyes were wide on me, then on the next booth over, then to the other side of the diner. “Wasn’t there, I mean, there was a child—”

       “Can I have three of those delicious looking donuts, miss?” I asked. The waitress bit her lip absentmindedly.

        “Sure thing,” she said, “And you?”

        “Nothing,” Hermes said, then his eyes glowed. “Thank you, and apologies.” The waitress stared blankly, then walked off without another word. The donuts from the counter disappeared and reappeared at our table. 

      “Thanks,” I said.

      He let out a tired breath, “Lukas—”

      “Yes, father?”

     His expression soured, wind rattled the windows, but then it softened, his eyes shut. I stared at the caduceus, quiet now. He sat back in his seat, placed a steady hand on the wood, and stared out towards the street. Towards the shops and sidewalks familiar to us both.

     “We’re here to talk, correct?”

     “Yes.”

     “Then explain.”

.

     Hermes had the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers, eyes closed. As the silence stretched on, the conversation played over in my head. Again and again and again. The whole time he barely said a word, not unlike him. . .but not all that comforting. The diner was empty now, though I hadn’t realized when it happened. No weapons, those were the terms, but it would be a lie to say that my palm wasn’t itching to call Backbiter to it. Martha and George slithered around the staff mimicking some sort of animated phone case.

     I should run.

     He stood without warning. I followed.

    “Let’s go for a walk,” he turned and left. Again, I followed.

     Late summer heat wrapped around us like a blanket as we exited into midday. The area was lively, busy shoppers and cyclists, joggers and freshly-washed cars. Sun shone down heavy on their exteriors and I squinted against the glint. It was way too bright—

     “There’s no one here,” he said. I turned. He was waiting on the sidewalk, body facing north, towards the path that would take you further inland. Away from the main strip, closer to the suburbs. “Just you and me.”

     “Right,” I said and shoved both hands deep into their pockets. I knew where we were going.

     Higher up the heat wasn’t as oppressive. Hot winds blew now and then, rustling dry leaves and pushing the scent of saltwater up from the bay. I breathed deeply out of reflex. We walked in silence. I kept our strides in rhythm. That was until I saw it.

     The beat-up white house with green hinges that had fallen into disrepair from neglect and misfortune was almost unrecognizable. A new coat of paint covered the siding, the chipping front door had been replaced, and curtains blew out of wide open windows. A lush, green lawn surrounded the property, split in half by a clean walkway bracketed with a rainbow of flowers. There wasn’t a single discolored, mildewed, decaying stuffed monster to be found. I jogged forward in spite of myself.

     “What did you. . .” I turned back. Hermes had slowed, taking in the scene much the same as I. He looked at me. “What did you do?”

     “Luke, this isn’t,” he stared at the house and his face twisted, “I haven’t done anything.”

     I swallowed a dry mouth and ran up the walkway, all caution lost to the innate yet unearned fear for a loved one. The door rattled under my fist as I knocked repeatedly, frantically. Hermes took his place on the tiny porch beside me.

     “Hello,” I shouted. “Hello, is anyone home? Hello!”

     “Coming! Just a moment,” a gentle voice rose from the depths of the house and a few moments later, a woman opened the door. Blonde hair, not frizzed, interrupted by streaks of gray. Green eyes; forest green, not neon. Healthy skin, not sickly. A warm smile that only grew wider as she took us in.

     “Mom.”

     “Luke,” she said and pulled me in to press a kiss to my forehead. I went as rigid as ice; she didn’t notice. “And look at you,” she said to Hermes, who hid his shock well. He had a smile on, pressed a kiss to her cheek, but I could tell somehow, that he was as clueless as I.

     The spell.

     “Come on you two,” she ushered inside. “I’m baking.”

     “Cookies?” I guessed. It was the wrong thing to say. She stopped midstep, hand on the doorknob, and stared at me. Both eyes open, mouth in a frown. For a moment, nothing happened. Then she blinked and shook her head, as if pushing away a stupor. 

     “No, pie. Do you like cookies?” She led us into the house. It was quiet, a television played low in the front room. Varied, jewel hues covered the walls, hiding the dirty eggshell they used to be. Tarps covered some furniture, though they were clearly being used. The wood floors shined from a polishing. The entire space smelled of pastry. Hermes followed faster than I. “Luke,” she called. She was leaning out the kitchen archway. “Lemonade?”

      “Sure,” I said but couldn’t move. Then Hermes called my name and I scoffed. 

      The kitchen was different too. All the grime had disappeared. All the appliances updated. The old, retro table had been replaced with a long wooden piece, and on top of it, were strawberries. Buckets and buckets of strawberries, contained in plastic, straw, wicker; anything that would hold them. The sweet scent was nearly overpowering here. My mom held out a full glass and brought my hand to it to make sure it didn’t drop.

     “Strawberries?” I asked.

     She looked at the table, “Oh! Yes, I’ve grown quite an affinity for them,” she shrugged. “Not sure why but. . . they’re pretty aren’t they?” A beep sounded.

     “May,” Hermes said as she pulled a tray from the oven. She looked over her shoulder. 

     “Yes?” 

     “May, are you alright?”

     My mother smiled—with a gorgeous set of pearly whites. Not possible, her teeth had yellowed and rotted years ago. “Of course, I am. It’s a beautiful day and I have two of my favorite people right in front of me.”

     “May,” Hermes said a third time, this one pained. I realized where I felt confusion, he felt hurt. My mother noticed. Her smile dropped and her eyes along with it. “May, the last time I saw you. . .it didn’t look like this.”

     She placed the tray on the stove and took a heavy seat at the table. The towering strawberries seemed to suffocate her figure. “I was very different, wasn’t I? But I don’t like to think about it. Why not have some pie and then you can go? I don’t expect you to stay very long.” She looked at both of us. “You never can.”

    Hermes huffed in misery. He came to sit by her side. I felt like I was watching a television show. This couldn’t be mine, this couldn’t be my parents. 

    He took her hand, “I don’t mean to put you through pain but I’m a little shocked. Your condition. . . wasn’t exactly fixable. I’d like to know what happened.”

    “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “About a year ago, I woke up. . .at least it felt like that. The presence of that thing disappeared, mostly. I could think straight again. I started cleaning up, there wasn’t anything else to do. The calendar on the wall was from the nineties. Found out someone had been paying the bills all this time,” she touched Hermes cheek and he smiled. “One morning I started working on the lawn. . .” she gave a sad, little laugh. “Apparently, I’d gained a reputation. The neighbors were so worried they tried to take the shears out of my hands, but once they realized. . .they helped me. People helped me fix up the house, gave me food, took me to the dentist, taught me how to use these new phones. They were so kind,” she sniffled. “I really didn’t deserve that much kindness.”

     “Of course you do,” Hermes said but she lifted her head towards me.

     “I don’t remember much. I get glimpses, pains even. But what I can recall, none of it is good. The memories. . .and the visions. Luke, honey, I’m so sorry.” The air was so thick I could’ve cut through it with Backbiter. I scuffed my boot against the linoleum. Silence snaked its way through the kitchen, like Martha and Geroge slithered on that phone.

    “There’s nothing to apologize for, Mom,” I said finally.

     “But there is,” she tried. “All that happened, the things I did, and then I just let you—”

     “There’s nothing you have to apologize for,” I said and the air shifted from thick to frigid. Hermes’ jaw tightened, but he didn’t move his gaze from my mother. Whatever. “So did you chuck all my old stuff? Not that it matters, I’m a little too old for Power Ranger pajamas.”

      My mother wiped at her eyes, “Oh no, I haven’t touched your room. Go take a look, it’s all there.”

.

     The tiny, off-white carpeted room with one square window was exactly how I’d left it a long, long time ago. The bureau had one drawer open. Angry crayon marks covered a low corner of the wall. The small, twin bed was made, but wrinkled. I walked up to it and ran a hand across the blanket. 

     I had the sudden urge to stay.

    It hit me like a brick to the solar plexus, knocking the wind from my lungs. Anger followed soon after. What are you thinking? I thought to myself.

    You could go to college.

    You lost your right to a future.

    You don’t get to leave, Annabeth’s voice echoed.

    Through the window I could see the road; children playing across the street; a man starting up a lawn mower. It felt surreal, freakishly abnormal.

    Maybe this was a type of punishment.

    “What are you thinking?” Hermes asked. I hadn’t heard him enter.

    “I’m thinking I’m too big for this bed,” I said and turned towards him, hands in pockets. His cadecaus was out now. The snakes slithered the length of it, restless. “Not that it matters.”

[manianart]

Unlikely Alliance pt2

He woke up due to light shining into the room he was in. His first reaction was to sit up fast and look around, fearing he had overslept and the light had been turned on by someone to get him. But nobody was there-

That’s strange. Why was there light if nobody had used the light switch, he didn’t have a window in his room after all.

Then it hit him, he wasn’t in his room at the facility.

This was a different room. Memories of the previous day came flooding back into his mind and he took a deep breath. Oh, right!

He changed his position, letting his legs hang over the edge of the bed, and looked around the room some more. It wasn’t a bad room. A table with two chairs, a heater, a small carpet, two doors leading to different rooms and a window. The window looked big but when he looked again Sheriff saw that it had bars in front of it. Not that he would really know where to go anyway even if he got the chance to escape. And with the chain around his ankle even the thought of fleeing felt ridiculous. 

Sheriff looked out the window for a bit. It was nice to see the sun rise again. When it went missing the first time he had felt something missing but somehow they had gotten a second chance. He didn’t know how it happened or why but he was happy for it.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the bed staring out when one of the doors suddenly opened and Hank stepped inside.

H: “...you’re awake early.” Sheriff gave an uncertain half smile at that. Sh: “Yeah...I’m used to not sleeping much.” Hank stared at him for a second or two after that. Did he say something wrong? Before he could ask any questions Hank sat down in one of the chairs at the table, motioning for him to come closer and sit as well.

Sheriff swallowed, not sure what was about to come. He quickly got up to follow the others orders, too quickly. Grabbing his middle fast as the stinging signaled the wounds on his stomach opening back up again. Looking down he saw some blood start soaking into his clothes and suddenly Hank was there, holding onto his wrists with his hands and looking at the blood.

H: “What did you do?!”

Sheriff blinked a few times, the harsh tone of the other bringing tears to his eyes.

Sh: “N-nothing! I’ve had these for a while! I think I just moved too fast.”

Hank stared into his eyes with an intensity that made Sheriffs knees feel weak. Would he believe that? It wasn’t a lie after all but what would he do if Hank didn’t believe him?

H: “How?”

Sh: “Wh-what?”

H: “How did this happen?!”

Sh: “O-oh...uhm...remember when...your friends, the rebels, stole that crate? I was tasked with keeping that… there was a locator chip in there that was...pretty important. When Phobos found out I had fucked up...this...this was part of the punishment.”

Hanks eyes showed a huge amount of disbelieve at that, giving Sheriff a few slow blinks before his hands let go of the others wrists and moved down to his shirt so fast Sheriff couldn’t even get out a word of protest. Two of the cuts had opened back up again, seeping out blood and stinging as fresh air hit them.

H: “You didn’t even bandage them!”

Sh: “They were doing okay up until right now! Something must’ve rubbed up against them to cause this…”

Hank sighed, a pang of guilt hitting him in the back of his head as he thought back to the way he carried the Sheriff. Over his shoulder with the others stomach rubbing against his shoulder pads.

H: “This will need to be cleaned and bandaged.” Sheriff felt his face heat up before swiftly covering his midst with his arms. Sh: “Didn’t you just tell me the other day that you don’t want to waste any medical supplies on me?” Anger was leaking out of that statement and Hank stopped for a second. Sheriff was looking away, not able to look at the other at the moment, until Hank started to stand up. He looked unhappy, his eyes cold and his stare and voice leaving no way for discussion as he spoke again.

H: “I said that so you wouldn’t do something stupid! THIS needs to be attended to and you WILL comply with what is about to happen, Un-der-STOOD?!”

Sheriff gave a whimpered response, nodding to show he understood.

Hank nodded as well, leaving the room after staring at the other for a few seconds longer to see if the point really was made clear.

When he was satisfied with the resulting shiver he got from the Sheriff he left and got back inside the room a few minutes later, a medi-kit in one hand and Sheriffs beloved hat in the other.

H: “Forgot to give this back yesterday. Here.” Hank swiftly placed the hat on top of Sheriffs head, covering his eyes with it by placing it wonky.

A snicker came from the taller man as Sheriff grabbed for the hat, a bit disoriented at that since he was under the impression he’d never see it again. Rearranging his hat so he could see again he sucked in some air as Hank was really close now, staring at the cuts and getting out some cotton balls, a flask with some liquid and some bandages.

The moment the flask was opened the room was filled with the strong smell of the disinfectant.

H: “Hold still and it’ll be over soon.” Sheriff nodded and bit his lower lip as a cotton ball doused in the disinfectant was pressed to one of the cuts.

The coldness of it hit him first and then the bruning started. Fucking damn this hurt.

Hank worked fast, making sure all the cuts were taken care of before taking the bandages and putting them around Sheriffs mid section. He pulled them a little too tight for Sheriffs liking but the smaller man didn’t dare say anything. Once done Hank looked at his work, making sure nothing looked out of place or bad. When he was happy with it all he packed away the left over supplies, recapping the flask and putting away the clean cotton balls before grabbing the bloodied supplies to discard of them.

H: “You can close that now. I’ll get some food.” Sheriff quickly got to buttoning up his shirt again before halting his actions.

Sh: “Wait. Food? How did you get that? I mean...if medical supplies are so low HOW do you have food?”

Hank turned around, looking at Sheriff for a second or two, probably contemplating on if he could tell the other or not, before deciding that there was no danger to it.

H: “Your organization likes to raid peoples homes, right?”

Sh: “Don’t...don’t call them my...uhm… yeah I guess.”

H: “When you guys kidnap these people your underlings always take most of the med supplies in the house or apartment they raid but they never take the food. We just have to wait a bit and then there’s basically free food just sitting around.”

Sheriff nodded, that made sense.

He felt kind of bad now, hearing how careless the foot soldiers of the Nexus were truly being.

Sh: “Oh...okay.”

With that the other man left the room, leaving the Sheriff sitting at the table to ponder what he had been told.

About 10 minutes later Hank reentered the room with a plate and a glass. Sheriff was lost in thought, looking out the window again and holding his midriff while looking like he was having a conniption.

He flinched away when Hank placed down the plate and glass, looking up fast and wondering how someone so tall and big could be this silent.

Sh: “Th-thanks.”

Hank nodded.

Looking down Sheriff saw a piece of bread with a fried egg on top and a glass of water. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a while, not being able to stomach much while inside the Nexus headquarters.

He picked up the water first though, happy to have some liquid for his dry throat before turning his attention to the food. His first bite felt heavenly. The food was good.

Everything was gone in no time and Sheriff looked to his side to see Hank was watching him with a strange look on his face.

Sh: “Uhm..thank you. It was really good.”

H: “You looked like a starving dog eating that. Do they not feed you or what?”

Sheriff felt himself shrink a bit, his shoulders moving up to somewhat hide his face.

Sh: “We get food, yeah. Just...wasn’t hungry in a while so I never got any from the mess hall.”

Hanks eyes became slits at that, making Sheriff shrink in on himself even more.

H: “How long did you not eat for?”

Sheriff had to think about that for a second.

Sh: “About..two days plus yesterday..I think? I didn’t really think about it at the time. Just drank a lot of water and juice.”

Hanks eyes went wide at that.

H: “Three days?! Did nobody notice you not eating?!”

Sh: “Nobody cared.”

Hank felt himself tense, breathing out hard and giving a growl.

H: “Fucking hell those idiots are incompetent.” Sheriff felt himself smile but it was a bitter smile.

Sh: “Perfect for me then, isn’t it?”

Hank looked down at the other, self deprecating humor the last thing he thought would come from the other at a time like this. Sh: “Where do I put the plate?” H: “I’ll bring it to the kitchen.” Sh: “A kitchen?” H: “Yeah, normal apartments tend to have one of those.”

Sh: “Can I see?”

Hank looked at him for a long moment.

H:”The chain isn’t long enough.”

Sheriff sighed.

Sh: “That’s a no...fine. I get it.”

Hank sighed before grabbing the plate, leaving the glass with Sheriff. Sheriff looked back out the window, nothing else to do really getting lost in his own thoughts again but right as he was slowly turning off the world around him Hank suddenly put a hand on his shoulder.

Sh: “Wuah!”

H: “Calm down, it’s just me. I’ll need to get in contact with the others now so I brought you a book and something to write with. Just be quiet and don’t disturb me for the next few hours, okay? The chain is long enough to go to the bathroom or the hallway and the hallway closet if you need anything to clean if you want to. We haven’t used this hide out in a while so you might need that. Just be quiet, okay?” Sh: “Y-yeah, sure.” Sheriff held his chest as his heart was racing. Hank really did surprise him.

He felt the taller man hold onto his shoulder a little longer before leaving the room again, leaving him with the book and some paper and pens.

The call to his comrades took about 3 hours, explaining what happened, his situation now and what he had done or more specific, who he had taken along and why. 2B was skeptical and so was Sanford, with Deimos alone giving the benefit of the doubt. They couldn’t get to Hank any time soon sadly. He was rather far from their normal headquarters, too far into the city for them to not be noticed. Hank nodded, understanding their stance and started to make more plans with them.

Once everything was said and done he decided to go take a shower. Feeling refreshed after that he looked over to the door that lead to the room Sheriff was in. He had kept quiet alright. Maybe Hank should check up on the man.

Walking over he knocked on the door, halfway out of reflex after hearing 2Bs voice and halfway because he didn’t want to catch Sheriff off guard again. The man looked so pitiful when he got startled and it messed with Hanks head.

Hearing no answer from the other Hank opened the door to look inside the room. He found Sheriff sleeping at the table, his body hunched over some drawings and his hand still somewhat holding onto the pen he had been using. Hank felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, being reminded of 2B or Deimos when they’d make plans for the team.

His curiosity somewhat peaked at what the other was drawing. Slowly walking up to the table and peeking over the others shoulder he saw a picture of the room Sheriff was staying in. It looked...good. Real good actually. Hank grabbed at the paper, waking Sheriff in the process.

Sh: “Hmh? Is your meeting already over?”

H: “Yah...you draw this?” Sh: “Yeah, already finished the book so I thought that that could keep me busy.”

Hanks eyes went wide at that.

H: “You already finished the book?”

Sh: “Yeah, I always was a fast reader. It’s one of the reasons I moved up the ranks so fast. I could remember about anything you gave me to read so the work I did was almost always good if it was just paperwork.”

H: “Huh. That...weirdly makes sense.”

Sheriff gave a half smile at that before turning to the table again, grabbing his glass to drink but finding it empty. Hank saw it and silently took it from him, going away and returning with a full glass and a plastic bottle with water in it.

H: “Here you go. This should make it easier.”

Sheriff looked up, his expression unreadable to Hank.

Sh: “Thank you. ....what is going to happen to me now?”

H: “Well, 2B wanted me to kill you right away before you cause trouble-”

Sheriff flinched at that. His heart beginning to pick up it’s pace he swallowed hard.

H: “But Deimos and Sanford mentioned that you could maybe help us out with some things so 2B let it slide and just told me to keep an eye on you.”

Sheriff sighed, releasing the breath he had been holding.

Sh: “Yeah sure, I can try.”

Hank gave him a funny look now.

H: “Just like that? I don’t even have to torture you?”

Sh: “Please no. I mean...what else can I even do? If I try to do something stupid you kill me. If I were to escape, Phobos will probably get me and then...I don’t really want to think about that possibility to be honest. And if I were to set you up you either die and I slowly starve to death or you get hurt and come back and kill me then. So...my best option...my only option really, is to help you guys to end this whole mess.”

Hank listened to the other man, noting how broken he truly sounded. Once the other stopped talking Hank thought about what he said. It was true, the best thing to do would be to help out and end this chaos. Still, Hank didn’t fully trust the man in front of him yet. He’d start asking questions he already knew the answers to for now before relying on the info he got.

“Okay, then lets talk a bit.”, Hank said, grabbing the other chair provided and sitting down opposite of the other.

For the next half hour they talked, Hank asking questions about menial stuff he knew already and Sheriff answering everything truthfully up until one question.

H: “What circuit do I need to short to get the east door to building deta to open?”

Sh: “...upper left in the control panel.”

Hanks eyes lit up for a second, knowing that the right answer would be the lower left panel.

H: “Wrong! That was a test.”

Sheriff looked at him confused for a second before he flinched back and brought his hands up to shield himself from Hank as he stood up slowly.

Sh: “NO WAIT! The plans for that building were updated after one of the techs found traces of a hacker in our system viewing the plans to the building! I told you the truth I SWEAR!”

Hank halted in his movement, cocking his head to one side.

H: “What?”

Sh: “We recently updated some of our plans as well as some codes and passwords after a hacker attack was detected. That was about 2 weeks ago. I got the new plans memorized the moment they were given to me. Please. What would I get out of lying to you?!”

Hank thought back to the time he watched 2B hack into one of the systems of a branch of the Nexus organizations. How long had it been since then?

Right, two weeks. Looking up at the others' face he looked for traces of guilt or manipulation but all he found was fear and uncertainty.

H: “What else was changed?!” Sh: “U-uhm...17 different passcodes, 3 door panels, 9 groupings of guards were updated on their weapons and the main door to Phobos quarters was reinforced so it could withstand weapons up to the strength of a grenade...w-why? Do you...believe me?”

Hank ran a hand over his face and head.

H: “Not sure yet, but if what you are saying is true it complicates things.” Sheriff looked down, looking somewhat defeated now.

Sh: “Oh..okay.”

H: “I’ll have to talk to the others again. Don’t try anything while I’m gone. We’ll talk again later.”

With that Hank walked out of the room leaving behind a scared and uncertain Sheriff.

Sheriff wanted to say something, to try and get Hank to believe him, but he knew better than to try, so all he did was look after the other with a dejected look on his face, a single “okay” leaving his mouth before the door to the room he was in was shut and he was alone once more.