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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

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6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.”

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?”

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door.

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega.

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know.

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door.

It’s going to be a long week.

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent.

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller.

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged.

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat.

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much.

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things.

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?”

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.”

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.”

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?”

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.”

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks.

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom.

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom.

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.”

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.”

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.”

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert.

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up.

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort.

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room.

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega.

Their omega.

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient.

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right.

Maybe they did need you after all.

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water.

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while.

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back.

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.”

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?”

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.”

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.”

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both.

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?”

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room.

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest.

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips.

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back.

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain.

You went into heat.

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark.

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over.

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs.

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears.

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week.

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort.

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this.

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence.

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?”

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb.

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.”

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure.

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.”

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks.

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.”

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.”

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done.

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.”

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all.

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him.

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.”

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could.

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks.

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again.

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks.

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame.

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days.

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?”

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.”

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall.

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw.

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside.

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.”

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent.

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases.

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through.

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in.

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-”

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.”

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.”

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh.

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.”

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still.

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-”

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face.

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.”

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it.

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta.

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.”

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees.

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha.

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.”

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it.

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s.

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks.

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole.

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass.

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.”

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.”

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either.

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before.

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets.

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again.

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again.

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.”

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.”

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank.

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again.

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further.

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.”

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise.

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more.

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!”

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is.

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!”

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done.

They’re both in for a long night.

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andvys · 11 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Warnings: angst angst angst! mean!Steve, bitchy!reader, slight allusions to unrequited love, mentions of Vecna and the upside down, argument, Steve being a dick to reader. and before anyone comes at me with the 'but your Steve is so ooc! he isn't mean anymore' this is a fic, this is enemies to lovers, you see the mean!Steve warnings, you know what you're getting yourself into.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had buried his past self, King Steve was dead, but all it took was a little push for him to make a small appearance again, to rain nothing but chaos upon his already weak 'friendship' with you. You pushed him, and you did it a little too hard.

Word count: 5k+

Author's note: Big big biggest shoutout to my bestie @hellfire--cult for helping me and writing those evil evil lines, you're the best

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

He regrets waking up that day.

He regrets saying yes to Robin and the kids to hang out.

He regrets picking up Max’s phone call.

If he wouldn’t have done any of these things, he wouldn’t be where he is right now.

Parked in front of your house so he can drive you both to Robin’s.

It’s been a week since the day at his place, a week since you had stormed out of his house, a week since he had last seen you. It almost feels weird. He can’t even remember the last time he had gone without seeing you this long. If you’re not hanging out with the group, he sees you going into the coffee shop across from Family Video every afternoon. Sometimes you even run into each other at Bradley’s Big Buy, but since last Saturday, he hasn’t seen you anywhere – it’s almost as though you had disappeared. Maybe he would have worried if it wasn’t for Max and El gushing over your shopping trip to Indianapolis the other day, he panicked when they told him that, thinking that you were driving again when you still weren’t allowed to, but El had calmed him down, telling him that you used the train.

With a sigh, he gets out of the car. He runs his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. He rings the doorbell and takes a step back, staring at the wooden door.

How will you even react to seeing him here?

You’re surely expecting Eddie, not him.

The door opens after a moment, revealing you on the other side, looking as beautiful as always – unfortunately. You’re wearing a white top, the soft pink stripes matching the color of your glossy lips, your skin looking soft and glowy as the sun shines into your house, the fading bruises are almost all gone, finally. The scent of your perfume, something sweet and flowery invades his space, and he can’t help but inhale it, feeling warmth blooming in his chest.

He takes you in, the way you look beneath the sun rays, the way your dainty necklace lies so prettily on your chest, the way your lashes touch your skin as you blink at him.

The smile on your face instantly fades away when you lock eyes with him, the usual grumpy frown takes over instead, that pulls him back into reality.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Yeah, you’re only pretty and cute when you keep your mouth shut.

He clenches his jaw, trying not to show how annoyed he is already.

“Picking you up.”

You furrow your brows at him, “what? Where’s Eddie?”

“He forgot about his Doctor’s appointment, he had to rush out. Max called me and told me to pick you up.”

“Oh,” you nod and you stare at him for a long moment before a smile appears on your face, “she told you, huh?”

Caught off guard by the smile on your face, he stays quiet, only nodding at your words.

You chuckle to yourself, turning away from him to pick up your jacket and your keys. Surprising him by not fighting him, you step out of the house and close the door. You look him up and down, eying the keys in his hand.

“Can I drive your car?” You ask, tilting your head, “I promise I’ll take better care of it than you ever could.”

He snorts at your words, looking at you with an expression that almost makes you laugh.

“With that head injury? Yeah, not a fucking chance, Blondie.”

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, already making your way over to his car.

“It’s been like what… a month? I’m all healed, I’m feeling peachy.”

“A month and you still get dizzy and don’t even lie about it.”

Once again, you keep quiet instead of throwing a smartass remark back, it makes him furrow his brows at you. Instead of opening the door, he leans his elbow on the roof of his car, looking over at you curiously.

You open the door and put one foot in before you halt when you notice him staring.

“What?”

“Did you fall on your head or something?”

You shake your head at him, scrunching your face up.

“You’re not fighting me, are you feeling okay?” He smirks.

Scoffing at his words, you flip him off before you get into the car without a single word.

He taps his fingers against the car, looking up at the blue sky with a smirk that turns into a content smile, he thought the bickering would start the moment you opened that door. Maybe today won’t be so bad.

Though when he gets into his car and he glances at you, you’re already staring back at him with that certain look in your eyes, the one that tells him everything he needs to know. Your eyes are glimmering with that smugness, the one that’s always there when you’re about to tease him with something that you know will annoy him.

“Is Nancy gonna be there?”

“Huh?”

You blink at him innocently as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Nancy, is she gonna be there? You know, since you only get the chance to be around her during these group hangouts,” you smirk.

He squints his eyes at you, biting back the bitter words that he was about to throw at you. He turns away and starts the car.

He backs out of your driveway and without a single word, he starts driving.

“Must suck being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, huh?”

He stares at the road ahead, blankly. He could swear there was a hint of hurt in your voice. He doesn’t look at you, despite feeling your eyes on him, he doesn’t look and only grips the steering wheel tighter.

“But what would I know,” you snort and he hears you leaning back in the seat, the leather squeaking a little as you try to get more comfortable.

Yeah, what would you know? He thinks.

You’re cold and you’re mean – he is certain that there’s not a single trace of love in your heart. How you care that deeply for Max will always remain a mystery to him.

“Are you a grandpa or something or where is the music!?”

“You make enough music for us.”

He turns to you for a brief second, to see you scrunching up your face at him, shaking your head in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lego head?”

“Your yapping and whining is enough for me.”

“Oh, so you’re saying my yapping and whining is music to your ears?” You smirk. “Just say that you love hearing my voice.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs, glaring at you. He clenches his jaw and flicks the button to turn on the music.

Material Girl by Madonna starts playing and he instantly feels his heart dropping, his cheeks start glowing red – at least, that’s what it feels like. He grows flustered underneath your stare the moment you start laughing.

“Oh wow, I knew you were a girly girl, Harrington.”

He changes the song, calming down when some Duran Duran song starts playing instead, but you are still laughing, and he can only groan in annoyance, pointing his finger at you, “shut up, Blondie.”

Your face only grows more amused, and this is where the teasing begins and the drive to Robin’s house becomes a torture for him and he practically starts counting down the second till he can finally get out of the car that he usually loves being in.

He bites his tongue, not saying a single word while you yap away the way you always do.

What a fool he was for thinking that this day could have been good, you manage to ruin every day of his.

He can only stay quiet for so long.

“Do you ever shut up or do I have to make you!?”

That seems to shut you up. At least, for a moment. When he glances at you with angry eyes, he notices the smug look on your face that still didn’t stray away from you, not even after his words.

“And how would you do that?” You ask, mockingly.

He stares at your lips for a moment, clenching his jaw and gripping the gear stick tightly. He looks away as he turns left, pulling up in Robin’s driveway, he parks the car.

“I have an idea or two,” he mumbles and gets out before you can question him. He almost thinks that his words have stunned you, when you take a moment longer to get out of the car, but when you do and your eyes meet his, you smirk again.

He starts walking backwards, taking in the sight of you as you walk towards him. Your jeans hug your hips and your legs so perfectly that he begins to hate them. He almost feels ashamed for wanting to see them from the back. His eyes move up to your top, without intending to stare at your cleavage but he does.. and fuck, he hates how attracted his body is to you.

“So cocky and for what?” You chuckle as you brush past him, not noticing his staring.

Steve’s cheeks are red, his eyes instantly fall down to your butt when he turns around to follow you onto the porch. You move your hips and he has to clench his jaw.

It’s really a shame that he can’t stand you.

You ring the doorbell and patiently wait for Robin to open, you don’t spare him a glance, you don’t even turn around to tease him any further, he doesn’t mind it though, it gives him the chance to keep looking at you. Your skin looks soft and he sometimes catches himself wondering what it would feel like to touch you, it’s glowing and he can’t help but ask himself whether it’s because of the body cream that you put on or if it’s just this pretty on it’s own – not that he ever imagines you putting lotion on your body after a shower, definitely not.

“Oh great, you didn’t kill each other!” Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

Robin grabs your hand and pulls you into her house, only throwing a glance over her shoulder at him, “come on in Dingus, you know the way.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he walks in, watching the way his best friend pays more attention to you than to him. Not only did you nestle your way into his friend group, you had also seemingly nestled your way into Robin’s heart. He watches the friendship between you slowly blossoming and he can’t help but feel jealous of that.

He stays back in the hallway for a moment, preparing for a long evening with you.

He hears Robin talking your ear off already, Max and Lucas are in the kitchen too. But no one else is around. Nancy and Jonathan are on a date, he knows that, Jonathan gushed about it to Argyle before he left the other day and Steve couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he heard them talking about Nancy. The other teens are off doing god knows what. So much for the weekly group hangouts.

He hears your laughter and he can’t help but roll his eyes. It’s not the kind of laugh that he ever gets, no, whenever you laugh with or at him, it’s like you’re mocking him or making fun of him – not that he cares, he does the same to you. It’s your thing.

But for some reason it bothers him to hear and see you laughing like this with the others.

You get along with Robin, you get along with Eddie, you get along with the teens – hell, you even get along with Nancy even though you glared daggers at each other that day at skull rock.

With him, you’re either grumpy and rude or you’re just a snappy smug brat – which seems to be the case today.

Steve walks into the kitchen, putting on a smile to greet Max and Lucas with.

“Hey,” Max mumbles grumpily, only shooting him a brief and very forced smile before she goes back to her deep conversation with you.

Another grump, he thinks to himself. It’s not a surprise that the snappy teen likes you so much, you’re both the same person.

Lucas greets him with a handshake and a friendly smile, something that two of the three girls in this room should learn.

“Are you coming to my game next friday?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nods.

“You can bring her,” Lucas wiggles his brows at him, gesturing to you with a wink, “as a date,” he whispers.

Steve scrunches his face up, as though he is disgusted by the thought of it – like he wasn’t just checking you out on the porch.

“You’re joking, right?” He mumbles as he looks over Lucas’s shoulder, glancing at you.

“No,” Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head, “you are awfully mean to her, which means that you must like her.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks over at you again, in sheer panic, hoping that you didn’t just hear the ridiculous words that have left Lucas’s mouth. You’re too distracted by whatever story Max is telling you though, looking back and forth between her and Robin.

He looks back at Lucas to see him staring smugly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t that what you said to Dustin when he asked you for girls advice?” He snorts, shaking his head once again, “‘the key with girls is acting like you don’t care’” Lucas mocks quietly, chuckling after that.

Steve sighs, putting his hand on his hip, “he told you that?”

Lucas leans closer, “he sure did,” he smirks as he turns his head to glance at you before her turns back around, “I remembered it the other day, and it had me thinking–”

“Alright,” Steve interrupts him, he places his hands on his shoulders, “stop that, Sinclair.”

Lucas laughs, eying the flustered look on Steve’s face, who shoots him another glare before he steps away. He clears his throat, looking at the kitchen island where Robin had already prepared all the snacks.

He grabs two bowls, glancing back at Lucas, “help me carry the snacks over to the living room, man. These ladies are too busy gossiping,” he says, expecting you to turn around and throw a comment back at him, but you don’t.

Robin squints her eyes, nodding at him, “don’t give us the sass, Dingus.”

Lucas chuckles at her, he walks over to the kitchen island, reaching for the bowl of sour gummies and the M&M’s, “when is Steve ever not sassy?”

At that, you finally turn to face them, a smirk tugging at your lips, you don’t have to say anything to show him that you agree with Lucas.

He only rolls his eyes at you, no further words needed as he leaves the kitchen, stepping into the living room with Lucas trailing behind.

“Wow, you didn’t even say anything to her.”

Steve has to roll his eyes again, the teasing in his voice isn’t very subtle. He opens his mouth to speak when the doorbell rings and Lucas rushes out of the room before he can even move or say anything.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Lucas says after opening the front door.

“Found him on the side of the road.” Steve hears Eddie’s voice.

“Oh you two are such jokesters. You think I’d miss out on game night?” Dustin’s voice sounds through the hallway. “What are we even playing?”

Robin replies enthusiastically as she walks into the living room with Dustin by her side and Eddie tagging along, greeting Steve with a grin.

“Oh boy, the board’s definitely getting flipped today,” Dustin laughs.

Steve raises his brows, “you mean you will flip the board?”

Dustin tilts his head as he looks at his older friend, his smile turning into a playful frown, “hello to you too, Steve.”

“Henderson.”

Dustin claims the loveseat before anyone else can, slumping down with a grin on his face, he reaches for one of the sour gummies in the bowl.

“What’s wrong? Did your phone date not go so well with your girlfriend?” Steve teases.

“At least I have a girlfriend,” Dustin winks at him.

As you walk into the room, Lucas faces Steve again, with a teasing grin, “what do you mean, he’s got one too, she’s right there.”

Dustin gives him a funny look before he turns around with furrowed eyebrows, confusion flashing in his eyes before they widen and he turns back to look at a very unimpressed Steve.

“What!? You two are dating?” He shrieks loud enough for you to freeze in your spot.

Steve closes his eyes, shaking his head at him.

“Huh?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Dustin, “Henderson, I think that Sinclair might have a little too much imagination over there.”

Lucas only shrugs, still grinning.

“You’re playing matchmaker with the wrong people,” Robin laughs, looking between you and Steve.

“Absolutely,” Eddie chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to her.

“Can we just play the game now?” You ask as both you and Max sit down on the ground in front of the board game that Robin had already put out.

“Ooh, we’re playing Ludo?” Dustin asks.

Everyone nods, everyone except for Robin.

“What?” She chuckles, cupping her cheek as she looks around, “that’s Wahoo.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, “Wahoo?”

“That’s what the game is called,” Robin says, pointing to the board.

Steve watches the way you shake your head in confusion, slightly pouting as you stare at her. Fuck… you almost look cute.

As Eddie reaches for the dice, he throws it up in the air, catching it between two fingers, “this game is called Sorry! my friends,” he smirks, cockily. “We only need four players so who goes first?”

Lucas, who starts scarving down the snacks, waves a hand at Eddie, “I’ll sit this round out,” he says with a mouthful of chips.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth!” Max rolls her eyes at him.

“Red, Dustin, Robin and Steve go first,” Eddie says. “The master has spoken, now let the games begin,” he says in his deep voice.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, “this isn’t D&D dude, we don’t need a master.”

“Still.”

“Okay!” Robin claps her hands together, “let’s play!”

And as the game started, everyone laughed, everyone was having fun, everyone was joking around, it was all lighthearted. Dustin was throwing tantrums in his team with Robin, while Eddie snickered. Robin was a loser, and she accepted that she sucked at this game, competing against a bunch of stubborn teens. She was the first to sit out and stop playing. Max and Lucas preferred to stay out after the first few rounds, amused by watching the gameplay.

And then, Steve and you were outright competing as if it were a championship. Neither of you even noticed that it was only you two left, everyone else stopped playing a while ago, watching this intense competition instead.

While you took it all with ease, teasing him with a few jabs here and there whenever he was losing against you, Steve took it all a little more seriously. Because the moment he lost against you more than once, the anger in him started rising – not because of the game, but because of the looks you were giving him, those smug and cocky looks, the comments that weren’t even that bad – but everything, everything about you was pissing him off this day.

Your attitude this morning, your comments, your jabs, your arrogance, you’ve been getting on his nerves from the moment you got into his car.

And right now, he can feel his chest heaving, burning in anger and frustration.

His jaw is clenched, his eyes are hurting from the intense glares that you start giving each other.

Neither of you feel the eyes of the others on you two, the nervous glances, the warning ones because everyone knows what will follow after this.

You both want to win against the other so desperately and currently, it’s a tie between the two of you. He won three rounds, you won three rounds – this apparently will be the last one, this one will decide who will win this very meaningless, stupid game.

But Robin can’t take it any longer, she can’t keep watching the two of you getting angrier each passing second, knowing that this round will only lead to another, and both you and Steve could sit here all night, because you are both stubborn brats when it comes to each other – as it seems.

“Okay!” Robin throws her hands up, snatching the dice from Steve’s hand that he was just about to throw, “can you two stop? It’s a tie, move on!”

You and Steve look away from one another, raising your heads to look at Robin who glares at the two of you.

“We’ll finish and then we’re done!”

Steve groans at your words.

“No!” Robin shakes her head, “because one will win and the other won’t, and then it’s a fucking mess, so stop playing! You fought interdimensional monsters together, for fucks sake!”

“Right, that doesn’t mean anything.” Steve rolls his eyes before he looks back at you, only to see your face fall.

He almost feels guilty. You risked your life out there, not only for Max and Lucas but also for him.

“That doesn’t mean anything!? Well aren’t you fucking grateful, Harrington.”

“Everyone fought, not just you, don’t think you’re all high and mighty,” he mumbles through the anger that he is still feeling.

A part of him is begging to just move on and keep his mouth shut, but he is frustrated, not just because of the game, but because of you, every small comment from you reminds him of how much he can’t stand you.

“Hey, hey, hey, break it up,” Eddie says as he gets up from the couch, raising his hands up as he takes in the hurt but angry look in your eyes.

You shake your head, “no, no, let him keep going! I want to hear what this bastard with his hero complex has to say to me.”

Eddie can see the way Steve is fuming, the way the anger in his eyes gets stronger and stronger. He stands up, moving closer to you as you get up as well.

“You fought with us once. Once! And you think that makes you equal to us!? You have no idea what we all went through, you have no idea the people we lost along the way, you know nothing!” He snaps at you, ignoring the way you draw back as your eyes fill with something he can’t read.

Max straightens up in her seat, already reaching for her crutches as her eyes widen, seeing the way your lips twitch as blink up at Steve.

“Steve, stop!”

If he wasn’t so angry, he would have heard the fear in Max’s voice, something that normally would’ve made him draw back in an instant.

You glance at her, shaking your head, yet again. “No, Max, it’s okay.” You turn back to face him, looking into his eyes coldly – that’s the only look he knows, that’s the one he cannot stand. “What does Steve Harrington know about loss!?”

Steve feels his gut twisting, he clenches his jaw but doesn’t answer your question, he keeps staring at you.

“What? Mom and Dad left you the whole house to yourself, and you consider that loss!?” You frown, lifting your arm, you gesture to the people in the room. “I see Robin alive, I see Eddie alive, I see all of the kids alive, so who exactly did you fucking lose, Harrington?”

Behind the anger and the emptiness in your eyes, is sadness and pain, something he can’t see through the haze that he is in, right now. All he sees is something, someone he hates, someone who acts like she knows everything, someone who does nothing but bring chaos and anger into his heart and into a friends group that is so sacred to him.

He never felt this angry before, not even when he found Nancy with Jonathan, not even when she cheated on him and left, not during a single fight with his dad, nothing had ever made him feel such rage.

“You are so fucking horrible!” He snaps at you, not caring about anything, right this second. Everyone in the room disappears, Dustin, Max and Lucas are no longer there, and neither are Robin and Eddie, it’s just you and him now. “I hate the fucking day we ran into you at Skull Rock! You are the most despicable and cold hearted bitch I’ve ever met! I would be surprised if you ever loved somebody!”

He can’t see the shock or the pain that nestles into your features.

He doesn’t even hear the gasps from the others in the room.

“Steve!” Max yells, reminding him of the fact that she is there, that everyone else is here too.

The girl almost falls over when she jumps up. Lucas stands up as well, steadying her before she can fall. They both look at you, both of them see the hurt in your eyes, the way you helplessly stare back at the guy that you risked your life for.

Robin and Eddie stare at him in disbelief, not knowing the Steve that they are looking at, right now.

All that Steve can see is red though.

“No, Mayfield, let me fucking finish because she needs to understand how terrible she is.” He practically spits in your face, not tearing his eyes away from yours, at all. “I-I mean, don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did – even more, I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all. You’re not someone easy to fucking love, Blondie. Trust me on that.”

And the moment those words fall from his lips, the room falls silent, dead silent. His heart stops racing and his skin runs cold. Suddenly, he is brought back into the room, the haze fleeting away more and more and he can now see clear again.

And as he looks at you, really looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach and every trace of anger is gone, replaced by a guilt he had never felt before.

Your eyes are filled with tears as you stare at him with nothing but pain, not a single trace of coldness in them, not a single trace of anger or indifference or even hate for the man in front of you. All he can see is pain, pain, pain.. Your tears are welling up more and more, threatening to spill down your cheeks. Your throat bobbed up and down, like you are trying to gulp down the ball of nerves and sobs threaten to fall from your lips.

For a split second, he can see through you and he sees something there never was before – something that tells him that you would let him do this, until he’d get enough of hurting you, that you would let him break you, little by little. But, he had enough.

You look down as your bottom lip starts to tremble.

As he sees that, Steve feels like the most horrible person on the planet. Worse than his dad, worse than the monsters he had fought, worse than Vecna.

What had prompted him to throw such awful and vile words at you?

The guilt that takes over almost feels unbearable and the moment he wants to take back those words, to apologize, you are already gone.

Lucas calls out to you, but the slamming of the front door is all he gets back.

Before Steve can even look around the room, his back is slammed against the nearest wall and he is met by the sight of an angry Eddie, his eyes darker than ever, nose flaring as he grips the collars of his polo, pressing him harshly against the wall.

“I would fucking punch you in the face right now, Harrington. Don’t forget who was the first person to jump into the water to save your ass!” He yells at him, giving him one final push that knocks the breath out of him before Eddie lets go and leaves to go after you.

Steve looks down, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Steve… what the fuck?” Dustin mumbles, softly, staring at his older friend in disappointment.

Robin looks around the room, before her eyes lock on Steve, she looks at him in confusion, not understanding where all of this came from.

“Dingus.. what the hell was that? Why did you–”

“Everyone leave the room.”

It’s Max’s voice that sounds through the room, awfully calm. So calm that it takes everyone aback.

Lucas stares at his girlfriend, completely confused.

All it takes is a single look from her though and he and Dustin scatter out of the room. Dustin pulls Robin along who protests at first but follows when she looks back at Max, who only shakes her head.

It’s silent for a long minute, and Steve doesn’t know what to feel.

“That was fucked up, Steve.” Max says.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the tears that threaten to build up.

Not only did he hurt you, something he never thought was even possible. He also showed his friends a side of him he wanted to keep buried. A side that surely makes them feel less safe around him now.

“I-I know, I don’t.. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Max purses her lips, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact.

“She may not have been with us from the start, hell, I wasn’t either. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t experience it just the same. She may not have fought monsters, Steve. But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.”

You fought monsters, you fought the bats off of him.

He snaps his head up, staring at her with a frown on his face.

“Max I–”

The redhead shakes her head, anger and disappointment still on her face.

“I’m not the one you have to apologize to. I will not tell you her story, I’m not allowed to do that. But you are wrong, you are terribly wrong about everything you just said about her.”

She reaches for her crutches, giving him one final look before she leaves the room.

He stares at the ground with a gnawing feeling in his chest, hating himself more and more as the seconds go by.

The look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his life.

How could he ruin everything in the span of a few minutes?

How could he not see the hurt in your eyes after only the first words that he threw at you?

How could he not see the vulnerable side of you?

How was he so blinded by the act you had put on?

He judged a book by its cover, just like King Steve had done in the past. There is no excuse. No fucking excuse for what he had done to you.

♡

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington #stranger things angst

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ckret2 · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

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There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison."

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising.

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive.

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing.

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie.

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #stanford pines #grunkle ford #the axolotl #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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atomicami · 1 year ago

Note

cami would you write a sub abby? like maybe where she needs your help to get off?🤭🩷

my sweet dani, that mind of yours truly is incredible…i wrote this one just for you querida 🤍

close call

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: it’s the night before the annual bake sale, and abby needs your touch now more than ever.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are still alive (jerry is not a doctor in this), reader has a business degree, abby gets needy, sneaking out, oral & fingering (a!receiving), masturbation (r), abby whimpering and begging?? and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: well if i’m being honest i really did not expect to be writing another contractor!abby fic so soon, but this request gives so much desperate contractor!abby energy that i just had to do it. however i do have to clarify that this is not a part 3. i’ve stated this before in one of my asks, but part 3 is going to be more about the bake sale…this is just more of a little bonus chapter i guess.

anyways, this one’s for you dani, and for all of my contractor!abby fans out there that need a little pick me up rn. i hope y’all enjoy it 🫶🏻

You didn’t expect to be doing it again so soon.

After you had snuck your way out of work to go see Abby at her father’s contracting site, you have to admit that the rest of this week flew by surprisingly fast for you.

You had been keeping yourself occupied in the meantime, between doing customer calls at work and preparing for the bake sale, you’ve been quite patient with yourself and didn’t feel the need to have to sneak out again until the next time you’d plan to see Abby. It was almost as if you simply had just been sick that day, and Abby’s touch was the remedy that cured you.

Although…there might be a feeling that you’ve jinxed yourself in saying so when you receive a phone call the night before.

You spent the morning on your work shift as usual, and your dad was generous enough to let you go before lunchtime so you could start baking for the sale tomorrow. After spending the rest of your day prepping, mixing, baking, and decorating, you were left with a variety of fresh pastries by sundown, ready to sell the next morning.

By the time you finished cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed, the clock struck 10 p.m. Normally you’d stay up a little longer, but after the exhausting day you’ve had today, you genuinely needed to rest for tomorrow. You had to be downtown by 7 a.m. to set up at the farmer’s market for the bake sale. Given how weary you were, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

However, you were only able to get a few hours of sleep in before your phone began to ring.

The sound of your ringtone startles you awake. Letting out a tired groan, you muster up the energy to reach over to your nightstand to turn on your light and pick up your phone to see who was calling you.

“Abby?” you whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes to get a better look at the screen. Once you do, the phone call disappears and your lock screen shows with the missed notification, giving you a chance to look at the time.

It was barely past 1 a.m. Why the hell was she calling you this late?

Her contact name shows up once again in a second call, and this time you swipe to answer.

“Abby…what is it?” you answer groggily to her.

“Hey…are you awake?” she asks shyly.

You roll your eyes before responding. “I am now.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I did wake you up, but I really need you right now…”

Her words start to replay in your head. The tone she had in her voice…she didn’t sound like her usual, cocky self. She sounded desperate…kind of like how you were the last time you saw her.

“Abby, it’s one in the morning…what is it that can’t wait until later?”

You knew what she was asking for, you just needed to make her say it. Kind of like how she made you tell her last time.

“I um…I can’t get myself off,” she muttered back. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to where you couldn’t hear her.

You simply nod, soon remembering that she couldn’t see you right now. “Alright, um…do you have your boxers on, then?”

“No—I mean, yes I do, but I don’t mean this…I need you to come over.”

You scoff at her through the phone. She truly can’t be serious. Having to do this over the phone would already be difficult enough for you. But to sneak yourself out in the middle of the night to do so? It was going to be too much.

“Abby, you can’t be serious right now—“

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that…My dad isn’t even home right now, please?”

“Okay, but my dad is.” You reply to her instantly. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get out of my house without waking him up.”

You keep trying to tell her that it’s not going to work out, but Abby continues to beg about it. As much as you wanted to, it clearly wasn't the right time to do so. But eventually, you just had to give in.

“Okay, fine! I’ll come over…” you said, quickly lowering your voice down. “Just…just give me five minutes.”

After hanging up the phone, you get up from your bed, taking the time to stretch in the process. Grabbing the first pair of shoes you find, you quickly slip them on before grabbing your phone and keys and exiting your room.

Once you’ve shut the door, you begin to tiptoe down the hall as to not wake up your father. The door of Joel’s bedroom was slightly cracked open, and you could see that he was fast asleep. You quietly pass by his bedroom and make your way down the stairs, praying that the wood doesn't start creaking from the weight of your footsteps.

Before you know it, you’ve successfully made it out the door, and you begin to cross the street to Abby’s place. Once you’ve made it to her front door, your phone buzzes again.

“Abby: there’s a spare key under the mat.”

Jesus. The least she could’ve done was to have let you in her own house, especially since you had to do most of the work sneaking yourself out.

You reach down and slide your hand under the doormat, quickly finding the key that was hidden underneath before unlocking the door and letting yourself in. It’s the first time you’ve been inside Abby’s house, and you’re not bothered to even get a good look at it, you just needed to find her right now.

After wandering throughout her house for what feels like forever, you finally find her bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, you simply walk in to see Abby lying in the center of her bed, her long blonde locks draped over her shoulders, and her muscle tank covering her top half while the rest of her body was covered with her duvet from the waist down.

“Hey,” she pants out, propping herself up on her bed to get a better look at you. “I’m so sorry I had to—“

“Sit up,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence.

“What?”

“You heard me. Sit up.”

You then walk your way over to the left side of her bed and kneel on the ground, causing Abby to scramble around and sit up from her bed. Once you’re settled on the ground, she’s got her legs hanging off the bed, and you can see that she doesn’t have anything on underneath.

“Thought you said you had your boxers on,” you told her.

“I-I did…I just couldn’t wait for you to get here…” she replies, looking away from you as she does so.

“And you say I’m the needy one…” you mutter to yourself. You then spread Abby’s legs open, revealing her pussy to you. Despite how truly annoyed you were that she made you have to sneak out in the middle of the night, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be touching her like this right now…because your mouth was practically watering at the sight of her wet pussy.

Without hesitation, you insert two of your fingers inside her. Her body jerks back for a moment at the sudden touch, before soon settling down, letting her pussy relax around your fingers.

It seemed like Abby was trying to compose herself right now because you could hear how hard she was trying to hold back her whimpers and whines as you kept slowly pumping your fingers in and out of her.

“M-More…” she whispers out to you, trying her best to not sound needy.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You asked, eyes still fixated on her pussy.

“I-I need more, please…” she responds, her voice just a little louder this time.

You look up at her as your fingers continue to move inside her pussy, your movements not stopping as you maintained eye contact with her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific than that, Abigail, or else I’m not giving you what you want,” you tell her sternly.

You can easily see her trying to hold back her frustration right now, and you were honestly enjoying it. The fact that you’ve put her in this state of submission outside of her usual cocky persona truly has you beaming with pride.

“I—fuck—I need your mouth, p-please…” she whines out to you, hands gripping onto the sheets as your fingers curl into her g spot.

“See, there you go…That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you tease back at her before leaning in and attaching your mouth to her clit as you continued to finger her.

It didn’t take long for the speed of your fingers to increase inside her pussy and for your mouth to suck harder on her throbbing clit. Between the pleasure you were giving her and the whimpers and moans that were escaping from her mouth, you can’t help but feel the need to take care of yourself down there.

As you continue to eat Abby out, your non-dominant hand begins to trail its way down into your shorts and slide below your underwear. You instantly feel a sense of relief once your fingertips reach your clit, rubbing it gently as you continued to give Abby the pleasure she needed.

You began to whimper and moan into her pussy, the vibrations from your mouth causing chills to rush through Abby’s body as she tried to chase her orgasm.

Her pussy soon began to clench around your fingers more than usual, indicating that she was close. You briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to speak to her, quickly replacing it with your thumb in the meantime. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?” you asked, looking up at her.

Abby nodded quickly in response. “Y-yes, fuck, p-please don’t stop…” she whined out, quickly grabbing your head with one hand and pushing it back into her pussy while her other hand grips onto the edge of her bed.

You were practically being suffocated in between her strong thighs right now, but you could honestly care less. You weren’t stopping until she finished. You continued to desperately moan and whine into her pussy as you kept rubbing your needy clit with your other hand, trying to chase your orgasm as well.

“Oh fuck, baby, right there, I’m gonna—Fuck!”

Abby tried her best to warn you, she really did, but before you both knew it, her release was already spilling out of her pussy and onto your fingers and mouth, causing you to greedily drink up every last drop of her before slowly removing your mouth and fingers out of her.

Once Abby had recovered from her orgasm, she looked down at you just in time to see you take your other hand out of your shorts. She kept her eyes on your fingers, admiring how they were covered in your release as a result of the pleasure you just gave to her.

She brings her hand down to your chin and lifts it to meet her eyes with yours. The deja vu feeling was hitting her now the second she saw your pupils blown out once again, just like how you were not even a week ago when you went down on her under her desk while she was sitting across from her father.

You hesitate for a moment before soon making the effort to stand up to her height, bringing your two fingers that were coated in your slick up to her lips.

“Clean them up,” you commanded.

Abby nodded as she held the hand that was put to her mouth before parting her lips and sucking your fingers clean. Her eyes were trained on yours, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

“There you go, just like that…” you mutter out to her quietly.

Once they were clean, Abby removed your fingers from her mouth, making a slight pop sound as she did so. You lean in to plant a kiss on her lips, tasting a bit of yourself from her lips and vice versa. You then reach down to grab your phone and keys before walking towards her bedroom door to leave.

However, you pause in your tracks for one moment and turn your head around to look at her fucked out self one more time.

“I’ll see you at the bake sale.” you reminded her, that same smirk appearing now on both of your faces before you turned back around and exited her bedroom, now leaving her by herself.

Well, it’s safe to say that Abby was going to have to return the favor for you real soon.

- a/n: i have to admit this one’s not my best work, it was my first time writing sub abby y’all believe me i tried my best 🙏🏻

also, i don’t usually self promote my fics but i did post my first dina fic the other day, it’s called overnight sensation and it’s a smau series. i’ve spent a lot of time and effort in making that fic so far so it’ll truly mean a lot to me if you guys could check it out 🤍

but other than that, i’ll see you guys in part 3!

tags 🏷️: @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @aouiaa @uraesthete @lia-winther @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @abbysfavewh0rx @echostinn @mochiivqi @floptron @totallyghostdgirl @swtsuna @bellaramslover @naomis-daydream @ur-fav-pixi @sirenbxby @paprikahoernchen @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @tohoko

(^ i think that’s everyone?? let me know if i missed anyone/if you’d like to be tagged in the real part 3 LOL)

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atzfilm · 1 year ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [5] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); san x reader, yunho x reader; 9.98k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore

Chapter 5:

The town is quiet as you walk down the road. Stores closed, streetlights beaming onto the pavement. Rarely does a car pass, light shining against your face before disappearing. You hold your bag close. Being here feels a bit strange, to say the least. Holding yourself together long enough to break down in your apartment. Soobin won't be there, that you're sure of. Something tells you you won't see him for a long while. Kicking a rock you turn the corner, your eyes on the apartment. Nothing had changed from what you can see – streets still silent, neighbors still quiet. You push your key through the lock and open. Even the eerie creak is familiar, rusted and lacking security. You shut the door behind you, looking around the room.

Nothing has changed. The books you left in a pile still sit in the same place, though a thin layer of dust rests on the top. The dishes you left in the rack sit, your coffee cup way beyond spoiled in the sink. You throw your bag to the side, chest tightening as you make each step. You said you'd be okay with entering this place again. You said you'll be fine. But all it does is remind you of how lonely you are. You glance at your phone that sits on the edge of the coffee table, plugging it in. You grab your gloves off the side of the sink and begin washing, the stream of water the only noise in the apartment.

You're over him.

You'll be okay.

Your fingers grip the cup tightly, scrubbing roughly. It is just not shiny enough.

He left you.

He won't be coming back for you.

The handle of the cup breaks, pulling you from your thoughts as it cracks against the framing of the sink. You stare at it, shutting off the water. Nothing you can do to go back in time, fix this. It's not your fault he left. It's not your fault he abandoned you like this. You should be over it now, it's been so long.

The sinking feeling only deepens.

You close your eyes, very much expecting Soobin to reflect in the darkness. Instead, your mind travels to the soft caress of Mingi's palm against your cheek; the sweet smile of Jongho as he adamantly discusses a novel he's reading; the irritated glare of San watching you eat; the loving look in Wooyoung's eyes as you scold him; the curious gaze of Seonghwa watching you silently; the very obvious avoidance from Yeosang; Yunho holding you delicately as you walk through the halls; the creepy grin of Hongjoong.

You open your eyes.

“Hell,” you murmur, throwing your gloves to the side of the sink. You don't bother picking up the pieces of the shattered ceramic, turning off the lights and roaming down the hall. Sleep. That will stop all of this. That would help you forget about the Unseelie. Maybe even help you forget that you killed a faerie yourself. Not that you remember anything from it.

Just the blood.

The one thing you can't forget.

—

“Sorry for not calling you in so long, I’ve been occupied.”

“It's been only a couple days, sweetheart. We just thought you were busy with the shop and all,” your mother says softly. The sound of dishes being washed echo in your ears, plates scraping against one another. “How are you feeling? Customers tiring you out?”

You hold the phone against your ear, stunned. It had to be over a month that you resided in your home. Or at least close to it. And you didn’t call your mother throughout that time. How could it only be a few days to her? What the hell did they do?

Slow down time?

You swallow, “Um, plenty busy Mom. Sorry I didn't call again.”

“No worries. We were just worried about you, you know. Soobin and all – we want to make sure you're faring well without him.”

You glance at the framed photograph on your desk. Soobin’s lips pressed against your forehead, your eyes shut in pure glee. His arms around your waist. You turn it away from you, leaning against the wood. “As well as I can be, it still feels fresh. Has his mother reached out to you about him? Anything new?”

“She told me he's still out and about. But nothing about him coming back. y/n, I hate to pry into this, but it might be time.”

“Time for?”

“Moving on. If he hasn't contacted you this whole time, you should let that settle in your mind. It's terrible, I know. But it'll soothe your heart. I hate to see you dwell on something that'll never come true.”

“Maybe I'll take you up on that.”

“I hope you do, baby. No need to dwell on things you can't change.”

You continue the conversation, love yous exchanged before ending the call. You stare at the front of the bookstore, the door slightly ajar. The sound of a crow loud enough to be heard in your store. You can remember the day Seonghwa walked in, head to toe in casual clothing, beauty unreal as he meandered around your shop. You were still in the early stages of mourning your relationship when he appeared. At that moment you thought he was strange, but it was a reprieve from your inner turmoil.

You wished you sent him away back then. Maybe things would be different now.

The bell rings, pulling you from your thoughts. An older woman from town enters, a few others just behind her. You thank them for coming in, distracted from your lingering thoughts for just a moment. As you’re helping her grab something off the top shelf, the bell rings again. Facing away from the door, you greet the customer.

“Welcome to my bookstore!” You say loudly, fingers gripping the spine of the book as you pull it down.

“Didn’t I tell you to be careful climbing up that ladder, you’ll hurt yourself moving around like that.” Hands wrap around the base of the metal, your body frozen, afraid to turn back. You can recognize his voice from anyone’s, soft but sure. The customer thanks you for the book, sending a greeting to the man holding you up.

You step down slowly, unable to face who’s behind you. “Why are you here?” You ask, your tone harsher than you planned it to be.

“I forgot to tell you some things.”

You try to calm your nerves, but your body is trembling, crumbling beneath your hold. He isn’t supposed to be here. You were moving on, you were going to be okay again. Why is he here?

“y/n–” His cold hand wraps around your elbow but you shove him away, eyes finally looking at his.

Soobin looks exhausted. Bags heavy beneath his eyes, the usual warm gaze of his a bit cold, off-putting. His clothing is wrinkled, loose against his body. You recognize the coat he wears, the same one he wore when he left you alone that night. When you cried as you held that note between your fingers. Neat hair combed back from his face, skin unusually pale. As if he hasn’t slept nor seen sunlight since he left. He takes a step away from you, glancing around the bookstore.

“You’ve kept it up well. A bit dusty, but you don’t have me around to get to the hard to reach places,” his finger drags along the top of a shelf, a thin layer of dust coating the surface of his skin. He rubs it between his thumb and middle finger, humming. “Maybe you should hire a part-timer. A tall one, preferably.”

You ignore his words, looking up and down the aisles of the store. Noticing no one inside, you lock the door, flipping your sign to close before looking back at him. There’s a mix of emotions, deep within you some form of yearning. You thought you’d never see him again and yet here he is. You didn’t notice it before — how well you’ve handled hearing his name without breaking down, falling to your knees. How easily you lied about your feelings, how people haven’t realized just yet that the thought of him makes you feel ill, makes you remember all that’s he’s done and has yet to do.

“Your mother has been looking for you.”

He pauses, nodding solemnly, “I know.”

“You can’t just disappear off the face of the Earth, Soobin. There’s people that care about you. What,” You rub your face, thoughts scattered. “Where the hell were you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shrugs.

The man in front of you now, expression cold, eyes uncaring. He’s not the Soobin you know. Even before he left, before he was upset with you, he never looked so ill. Like he hasn’t seen sunlight in months. Even the blush of his cheeks are gone, skin seemingly hollow. If he weren’t in front of you now speaking you’d think he was a corpse.

“How are you going to waltz in here to see me, and act so cold? What’s wrong with you?” you glance over his clothes. “Are you sick?”

He scoffs, the expression only making the pit in your stomach grow. “No. I called mother today, she’s fine. Spoke to the sibling too. I just came here to settle things before I go.”

“I thought you settled it with that little note of yours?” It’s long gone now, somewhere deep in your closet filled with gifts he’d given to you. You couldn’t bear to throw any of it away.

“No, it hasn't been settled,” he digs in his pocket, pulling out an envelope. He slides it across the table. You stare at it for a moment, a sigh echoing around the empty store. “Open it.”

You grab it, ripping the tap off and looking at what’s inside. It’s a letter, a legal document in fact. You look at the header, words in bold font.

Transfer of Deed of Land to Y/N, on Behalf of Soobin Choi.

“The bookstore will be solely in your name, and Choi Soobin will be removed from the paperwork, relinquish all rights to it. You won’t have to worry about it being taken from you. You’ll have it for yourself and own the property. Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care.”

You do care, you think. You’ve wanted this for so long.

“Think about it tonight,” Soobin says. “I can be back tomorrow. You probably would need someone as your witness and a notary. It’ll take you a bit of time, but there’s no rush. I’ll give you the PO box to send it to,” he digs in his pocket, taking out a small business card. He does not hand it to you, sliding it across the wooden surface between the two of you. “I’ll be around in the afternoon.”

“Is this it?” You look at the card, a firm’s name and office printed. “This is all you came for?”

“What else would I come here for, y/n?”

You’ve known Soobin for so long, enough so that you’ve never seen him this distant, this cold. Who is the man in front of you now? He is not the man you’ve known for over a decade. Something must have happened in the months he was gone. There’s just no possible way he’s the same Soobin that was angry with you. But pushing for answers would be useless, so you merely nod.

“Nothing. You don’t have to come tomorrow, I’ll sign and send it to your attorney.”

“Great!” A smile cracks his solemn features, hands clapping together. “Have a good life, y/n. I hope you take care of this shop well, or leave it to someone else. These people in this town are pretty fucking shitty towards you.” He moves himself off the bannister, swallowing. “And don’t bother his mother anymore, she’s been through enough as it is. Hearing you or your mother’s voice would only make her more anxious. The relationship ended such a long time ago.”

Your brows furrow. “Who’s mother am I bothering?”

“Hm?”

“You said his mother.”

His smile stays, “Must have been a slip of the tongue.”

You stare at him, his brow raised in waiting. He is just not himself. You can only wonder what happened in the time he has been gone. Still, you cannot help yourself. “We were going to get married soon,” you whisper. “You said it would be me and you to the end. You said you wouldn’t hurt me, but you did. You left me alone, and so much has happened since then–”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he stops you. “Don’t make this harder than it is, y/n. Just forget about it and move on.”

“You…” You close your eyes for a moment. “Get out.”

He raises his hands, backing up away from you. Just as he begins to turn the knob, he turns around one last time. “I will always care for you y/n. In a strange, twisted way.” The door slams almost violently, the handmade sign you two made together falling to the hardwood. You flinch as it hits the floor, led shattering.

—

San hears a door slamming a bit down the hallway from his own room, quite aware of who it could be. Seonghwa slid by his room earlier and told him about Mingi. It was enough of a hint that he decided not to feed tonight, waiting for him to come back. He gets up off his chair, placing his journal to the side and walking down the hallway. Hongjoong’s door is shut, as well as many of the others. Including the one he’s looking for.

The closed door greets him. No one else has left their own dwellings, likely due to their leader's instructions. Mingi is not to be disturbed at times like this. He will recover on his own. San has learned to never take those words to heart; the last time they left him alone he was distraught for days.

He grips the brass doorknob, slowly turning it open. It creaks. Torn clothing scattered about. Human blood dripping onto the floor. If looked upon with an untrained eye you would see a human on the brink of death. All San sees is his Mingi, body twisted into someone unlike himself. He’s forced himself into the couch, back to the door. All he wears is underwear.

“One.”

San holds out his hand, staring down at Mingi. The large Unseelie seems smaller now, body curled up, shaking every few seconds. He hates seeing him in such a state, his heart aching at the pain he's under. It is something Mingi rarely does – shape-shifting into a human. It takes a toll on his physical and mental state, his physique unable to handle it for longer than a few hours. Though he did not stay long at the bookstore, it was enough to make him slip. Lose himself.

“One,” San repeats, arm still extended. He is in the middle of transitioning, deathly pale skin warming, brown strands fading into a darker green. “Repeat it, Min.”

“No,” his voice is hoarse, fingers digging into the soft cushion beneath him. Though the door is ajar, none of the others appear to help. It is something only San and Yunho can do well. With Yunho preoccupied, he is the chosen Unseelie to pull Mingi back. “No, no.”

San reaches out, forcing his thumb against Mingi's temple. He whispers as the Unseelie claws at his arm, flinching when his nails peel off the surface. He grinds his teeth, his other hand pressed into the cushion beneath him. Perspiration coats his forehead. Mingi's body slowly calms down, hands dropping to his side.

“One.” San murmurs.

“...One.” He says back, blinking slowly. None of them enjoy this. His mate is in pain, dire need of their assistance. The only aspect he enjoys of bringing him back is seeing life breathed into his skin. The iridescent eyes staring back at him. Mingi is not truly there yet, lids heavy, but he almost is. It is enough for San to continue.

“Two,” San says.

“Two.”

“Tell me your name.”

Mingi's brows furrow, tongue dragging across the cracks in the plush flesh. “Soob–” His jaw tightens. “Mingi.”

“Right,” San's cheeks indent, hand off his temple. “What is my name?”

Mingi blinks quickly. Eyes growing moist the longer his gaze settles. It is difficult for him to speak, lips opening and closing. He sighs. “My San.”

“Right,” San presses his lips against his skin, covering the mole just beneath his eye. “I am your San. Always.”

Without another word, Mingi's arms wrap around his body, pressing San deep into his chest. The remaining pieces of the human’s clothing peels away as he holds his lover, chest trembling after each breath. San lets himself settle there, knowing it may take him a while until he is himself. His fingers dig harshly into San’s skin, his grip rough enough to rip right through. San holds back a hiss, letting him continue. It grounds him. He will be upset with himself later, but right now all he cares about is making sure he’s okay.

“Don't leave me,” his voice is hollow, unnerving. “Don't let me slip away.”

“Never, Mingi,” San's voice is sure. “You'll always be yourself.”

—

“Everything is going too far,” Yeosang dips his spoon into his bowl. “Mingi can barely leave his room without his thoughts fading into one another. I greet him and his speech is slurred. As if he's still that human. We’ve prevented him from human shifting for a reason.”

“I know,” San holds his drink, gaze lingering on the doorway. “It’s not needed anymore though, the Soobin persona completed his duty. He will no longer awake from his slumber.”

“For now, until our leader finds another use for him.”

“I will not allow it.”

Yeosang stops gnawing on the slim branch between his lips, gaze glued on San. The smell of cinnamon wafts through the air, softening when he sees how terrible San looks. Nails bitten bloody, hair thick with dust and oil. Jaw tight. Burdened with the feeling of care. Very unlike an Unseelie, but do any of them fit the true embodiment of a wretched faerie? Even Hongjoong, as conniving as he can be, is still warm-hearted. Deep down beneath that scorned heart and thickened skin. Yeosang reaches over, stopping himself halfway. He is not one inclined to physically comfort someone. That type of caretaking is heavily given by Wooyoung or San himself, not Yeosang. He cares a bit differently.

Yeosang digs in the box in front of him, nudging San slightly as he hands him a smaller branch. Said faerie takes it without question, sincerity in his smile as he begins to chew. The smell calms him down a bit as he chews, throbbing headache lessening with each swallow of the tainted saliva.

“Have you spoken to him about it? About the toll it takes on Mingi? Yunho is barely himself these days, it will only hurt us all more if Mingi crumbles too.”

“I've attempted,” San’s smile is wiry, plush lips set in a pout. “Hongjoong doesn't want to hear it. He told me that Mingi could decide on his own and he does not dictate his actions.”

“In summary: Mingi does not want to let him down so he won't deny his wishes.”

“Right,” San agrees. “He will continue to appease as long as mentally and physically possible. He would be nearly on his last breath before saying no. It's in his nature.”

“Hongjoong is taking advantage of that,” Yeosang merely sighs, chewing the branch slowly. “Once Yunho finds out he'll be–”

“Once I find out what, exactly?”

The two turn, Yunho leaning against the entrance to the room. Yeosang closes the box in front of him, Yunho’s eyes catching the movement. He is not one to get inebriated and dislikes it when the rest partake, but he does not say much about it. His nose might wrinkle a bit, but that’s all. So seeing him stand there, without as much as a twitch of his brow, only worries them both. Seonghwa said it would take a little longer for Yunho to truly be himself.

“What’s going on? I went to the lab and Seonghwa wasn’t there. I presume the rest are out feeding?”

Yeosang shrugs, “Some may be, some not. There’s a bit of disorganization around here lately, with the Seelie and all.”

“You didn’t answer my question about y/n.”

Yeosang’s gaze shifts to San. They were told to hold that information until Yunho was truly well, and neither of them knew if that was the case now. He’s allowed to be upset about the circumstances, but finds out suddenly like this- it may only hinder his progress.

“I am fine, you can say it.” Sharpness beneath the words.

“How did you get out of your room? I was sure Seonghwa placed a spell upon it.”

“He didn’t solidify it again, which is why I went to his room first to see if he could. But not seeing him there and the house eerily quiet, I decided to walk around and see what’s happening. And since neither of you are telling me where y/n is, she’s likely removed from our land, no? Where did Hongjoong take her?”

Again, neither says a word.

This time, Yunho’s brow twitches. “Do you want me to be upset?”

“She’s not here,” San says. “She could be anywhere. But she is safe.”

“If she is anywhere how would she be safe?” Yunho’s jaw tightens. “We were to protect her.”

“Are you not the least bit concerned as to why you’re so infatuated with this girl?” Yeosang asks, taking another bite of the branch. He raises his brow, “She has left on her own. We’re leaving her alone.”

“We as in all of you?”

Again, another question they cannot answer. Yunho gives San a hard look, before turning on his heels. Yeosang makes no movement to follow after him himself, watching as San leaves after him.

His steps are close, slightly jogging to catch up to the lanky Unseelie. “You are not thinking clearly.”

“Neither of you will tell me what's happening so I'll gather the information on my own.”

“Yunho, stop,” San slips around him, blocking his path. He sees the familiar fury in his gaze, the onset of his clenched jaw. It makes worries continue to swim within him, the thought of Yunho further losing himself lingering. Despite the circumstances, San reaches for his hand. Yunho almost pushes him away until San rests his hand on his chest, gazing at the floor. “Please.” Desperation coats the singular word.

It's enough for Yunho to sigh lightly.

“You've hidden things from me, San. What else am I to do? Accept your silly explanations?”

No. San knows him better than that. And he knows Yunho would leave with the slightest hesitancy in his response. San lifts his hand, wrapping it around his waist. Yunho tenses up, but does not move.

“I'll take care of you. I'll take care of this.”

“How?”

San's head lifts. He can see the hurt in his pretty eyes. He loves him, dearly. There is nothing that could come between him and his spark. Nothing he wouldn't do to make them happy. It is his duty – to protect them from all the hurt and terrors. It is hard to be so entwined with seven Unseelie, unable to resist helping them in whichever way he could. It is not something he'd ever fail on. So if Yunho wanted the human with him, if he hurt in even the slightest way without you, San would scour the Earth for you. He would hunt endlessly, until his last breath.

“I'll get her for you.”

Yunho's hand reaches up, holding San's face delicately in his hands. Said man's eyes flutter beneath the faintest touch. A soft groan escapes his lips when he feels Yunho's brush against his. It is merely seconds between that and San gripping his waist tightly, his back pressed against the hallway wall. Wood cracking beneath the strength of their combined desire. Their hands are everywhere as San truly shows Yunho what he means to him.

Blind devotion.

—

This is foolish.

This is completely foolish.

In fact, you wonder why you’re even thinking of doing this, the act silly and stupid all in the same.

You stand in the train station, scarf wrapped around your neck, the holiday lights still up despite the season passing. A small clover growing in the cracks of the sidewalk. You grip your suitcase, fingers trembling from the breeze. You hold your train ticket in your phone. The Unseelie informed you that your home was protected from Seelie, that you’d be safe there. You’re far enough away that it’d be impossible for whatever spell was placed to work on you here. But you need to get away. You’re sick of being in that apartment, in that bookstore, surrounded by reminders of your ex-lover who left you. Seeing him only days ago just made everything much worse. The ill feeling in your body continues.

“Quite cold, hm?”

You glance to the side, a man much taller than you, a yard or so away. He leans on a nearby pole, hands tucked in his pockets. He shivers, blowing his breath into his cupped palms. “They didn’t say the temperature would drop this much.”

“It is cold,” you agree, giving him a quick smile before staring forward.

“Little humans like you shouldn’t be out and about alone,” he says after a moment. “Could get yourself into trouble out here.”

Your grip on your suitcase tightens. Humans.

Is he a Seelie? You barely left the perimeter of your town. How could they find you so quickly?

Your thoughts wonder, landing on the spark of Unseelies. Hoping that somehow, someway, one would come. One would help you.

“Surprised you left them,” he continued. “The source of your protection. And without telling them? Humans are truly stupid.”

“There’s people around, you-” You point, noticing the once busy station completely empty. “There’s…” The once full staircase of people waiting for the train was utterly empty, seats against the walls unoccupied.

“No one,” he shrugs. “What will you do? Call the police? Believe that they will help you?” He moves off the pillar, slowly coming into the light. With each step he takes, his body changes, growing taller and into the grotesque creatures that were in your bookstore not too long ago. You haven’t trained enough with Mingi to truly protect yourself against a Seelie alone. That one time wouldn’t be able to be replicated again since you haven’t the slightest idea how you killed it.

Will you finally, truly be helpless?

“Messing with what’s mine?”

The name gathers chills within you, mouth running dry. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer into his side. You do not bother to look up, his laughter enough for you to know who it is. Your heart, used to the fear that would run through at the mention of being his possession, almost warms when he presses you against his side. He smells of metal and plants, head tilted as he looks at the Seelie.

“Have they not told you to leave her alone? This is not your territory, Seelie.”

The Seelie pauses, gaze narrowing. “It is free of your protection spell.”

“She is our human and she is under our protection. Big mistake, coming here by yourself,” his tone is cheeky. “She has already killed one of you alone. It would be idiotic of you to come by yourself.”

The Seelie laughs, “A human killing a Seelie? I haven’t heard of that.”

“Beomgyu would say otherwise. Emphasis on would,” you glance at San, a slight pout on his lips. “Since he is very dead right now. Right, y/n?” San nudges you slightly. “Poor guy screamed for death.”

“Yeonjun said he was on a mission,” the Seelie grunts. “That is not possible.”

“I cannot lie, you know that well.”

The Seelie looks between the two of you, “You have forgotten yourself, San. There is only so much you can do before she knows as well.” The face distorts, a grin creasing each corner of its face. It looks at you briefly, before disappearing into nothing.

—

Sounds echo in your ears as the stations immediately increase in volume, travelers out and about. San holds you close as he walks through, fingers gripping your side. It's strange, feeling his touch on you. He is one of the Unseelie who hates your presence. Having him so close, hands desperately holding you, feels wrong. Wouldn't be much different from what you've been dealing with lately.

“Inconceivable,” he murmurs, stepping through the open doors. “Do you know what you were about to do? Have you been taking our words lightly?” The cool breeze bone chilling. San hands you his scarf, wrapped tightly around your neck.

“You found me.” You say.

He hums.

“Am I that easy to find?”

“No,” he says. “We just know when you leave town. I followed the smell of Seelie. It was easy to spot you then.”

“Did you all know that this would happen if I left?”

He pauses. “Yes.”

“Should I be worried now that one may pop up since we're not in town?”

“Why would you be? I'm here with you. No Seelie would dare to come near you with one of us around,” his eyes roam over your face. “You look tired.”

You touch your face at his words, feeling the thick bags beneath your eyes. You cannot see your face now, but you can only guess. After seeing Soobin you haven't slept. More tears than anything else. Body barely able to get out of bed some days. His visit rocked you to your very core. Having San confirm your haggard appearance only makes it so much more real. Soobin was here, and he shattered you again. And now knowing of him being somewhat okay without you while you struggled to hold on, crumbled your heart. But there is only so much crying you can do. The tears dried up days ago. Sleep still evades you, though. You look at him.

“I–”

“Mingi did not train you enough for you to run away on your own. You could have died. Or worse, they could have taken you. Humans with your abilities don't last long in faerie territory. They would torture you.”

“I don't care.”

He stops walking, hand dropping from your side. “I didn't catch that.”

“I don't care, San. I could give two fucks if they took me away, if they tortured me. I don't care,” Your words sink in. You don't. You're exhausted. Everyday takes the air out of you. You wake up afraid that you might go through something similar again. That you'll lose yourself and won't know what happened. That you'll kill, unable to control yourself. It hurts to even think about it.

San looks at you. Your sure resolve from before has worn down. Body struggling to hold itself up on two feet steady. You haven't known them for long and you're already breaking down. None of them have drained you and it looks as if it has already happened.

He should not care about your well-being. He should not feel sorrow the more he looks at you. He should not feel ill that he hasn't checked to make sure you were okay. So why can he not shake the feeling? Why does he want to move closer, hold you, whisper comforting words? No, he does not, of course. He has a much stronger resolve than he gives himself credit for.He thinks back to his spark. The hurt emitting through the walls.

“I'm not going to let you kill yourself.”

You freeze at the words. You don't want to die, despite how peaceful it may be. You have too much to live for. You just cannot explain how little you care if something did happen to you? None of it makes sense. Nothing you can concretely say. So you look at San, his strong gaze looking back.

“I don't want to die.”

“I can help you. We can help.”

You swallow, “How?”

“Yunho–” his pauses for a second, notice how your heart quickens at the mention of his name– “is well enough. We can help you move your things into a spare room of ours. You'll be around us, so no Seelie will be able to hurt you. The barrier will remain intact since it is not just one of us around. You will be gone for an extended period of time, y/n. It may be a long time. You won't see home. But no one you know, no one you're related to will be in danger.”

“Is there no other solution?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Now that they know of you, and know that you've killed a Seelie, there is no going back. You will be in danger for the rest of your life. Everyone you meet, as such, will be in that much more danger. Including your parents. It will be more exhausting than it is now. ”

You never thought that the conversation you had days ago would be the last. You would have said more. Would have told her how grateful you are for being her daughter. The pain is too much to consider now, but you have no choice. You love her. You want her safe.

“Will they hurt while I'm gone?”

“They will remember you as you are, y/n. They will think you're okay, they will have memories of being with you all the time. You will remain in their life, they just won't be in yours. You will have to make this decision on your own.”

You don't want to say the next words. You don't want to leave your friends and family. But there is nothing else you can do. You let out a low sigh, “Okay.”

He nods, holding out his hand. You take it slowly, and he pulls you into his chest. You can tell he keeps himself in shape, but feeling how solid he truly is against your body – if you weren't feeling so down you'd be nervous.

“Wooyoung does not know how to move through the air with a human,” he explains softly. His breaths are steady, eyes closed. “He just learned. When transporting your kind, there needs to be permission given. Trust. Without it, it will be painful, disorienting. Can I touch your cheek?”

You nod.

“Words please.”

“Yes.”

His hand lifts, lightly cupping your cheek. You can feel how rough it is, though solid. No shaking. His eyes open. They look a bit lighter, brown focused on yours. “I ask that you trust me to help you. Let me pull you through to my home. Are you willing to come?”

“Will it hurt?”

He shakes his head, “Trust me and it won't hurt at all. Will you be able to do that for me?”

You do not trust any of them. All are conniving, cunning. Easily use their tongue to lie without explicitly doing so. San could be speaking between words, between your fears and comforts. But with this, you do trust him. You know how he practices his magic, how he protects his spark. You are not one of them but some do care for you. And you doubt San would let you get hurt, if only to protect their hearts.

“I trust you to take me there safely.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

Yours flutter close. His arm wraps around your center, hand still cupping your cheek as he molds your body into his. His lips are merely centimeters away from yours.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

His soft skin drags along your jawline, before pressing against the corner of your mouth. You shudder, the stroke of his thumb against your temple distracting you. Without another word, his lips cover yours. San does nothing more than that, pulling away. His hand moves off your face, touch gone from your body. You open your eyes, San several feet away from you. His eyes look around you.

“Home again, y/n. Yunho would be glad to see you around,” San steps around you swiftly, the sound of his steps crunching through the leaves. You follow him, the familiar home resting in the middle of the forest. You can feel how your stomach drops at the sight.

How your hands were tainted.

The front door is open. San pauses for a moment, looking at you. “Your bedroom has all of your belongings inside. It's the same as when you were here prior. There's a few of us home, and the rest are out. You don't need me to follow you around.” He does not mention the kiss, disappearing before you can say another word, specifically questioning what that Seelie meant by him hiding something from you. Your chest aches as you step inside, pushing that to the back of your mind. Trying to settle your thoughts about not seeing your family again.

The house is eerily quiet as you make your way to your room. Usually there's one or two meandering the hallways. But there's not one, not even a quick spotting of San. He did say some of them are around, but you can't spot one. You drag your suitcase up the stairs each knock echoing around you. Your door is already unlocked, swinging it open.

You almost freeze at the sight. All of your things are where they should be. Oddly similar to the layout of your own room. The books you’re currently reading stacked up next to the oversized bed. Obnoxiously oversized, close to two kings combined. Your closet with all of your clothes on hangers neatly. You place your suitcase next to your door, walking to the dresser. Peeking inside, your underwear is how you left it at your home. Dwelling on the thought that they've dug through your belongings will do no good. It has been done (though, fairly quickly).

“She is here?”

His delighted voice sings through the hallway, stomps louder than he has ever been. You step slightly away from the door, prepared to be hugged, possibly violently, in his embrace. There should be no joy with this situation, stuck under their gazes, but you can't help but feel excited to see Wooyoung. With your door ajar, he lands outside of your room, peeking in. Much different from the man who invited himself around you whenever he'd gotten the chance.

You can see how roused he is, body trembling in anticipation. His gaze glances around the room before meeting yours, grin wide. Nothing on him suggests that he was feeding, though his eyes are a bit darker. His hand grips the frame, holding himself back.

“Solaris!” He looks at the frame, the ghost of a pout on his lips. “Has someone placed a spell on your room?”

You raise your brow, stepping closer to the frame. You didn't quite notice it before, but you see small carvings around the borders, words you cannot understand. Your fingers brush against it, a whine escaping Wooyoung's lips as he leans on the outside perimeter.

Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.

Latin, maybe?

His eyes follow you, shifting each time you do so.

“Let me in?” He asks softly.

“I don't know how–”

“It was a simple spell,” you both look back at Seonghwa, a bit down the hall. His eyes are cold which you expect, but they seem to linger. Glance over your body before looking away. “To prevent anyone from entering without her explicit permission. It will activate again when the person leaves. Only she can enter.”

“Did you do that to stop me?” Wooyoung deadpans.

“Not only you but yes, I did. It is a precaution.”

“I’m not going to take her away while she’s asleep,” Wooyoung frowns. You watch as even his fingers struggle to penetrate the barrier, pushed back slightly. “And I wanted to welcome her.”

“As I have said, a precaution. For everyone.”

It’s strange, the way Seonghwa looks at you. He does not step closer, arms crossed against his chest. Gaze glued behind you. There is nothing there - you’ve checked - so you can’t really explain why he’s acting this way. And why Wooyoung doesn’t seem to notice the shift in his behavior. Though Wooyoung is Wooyoung, he’s easily distracted when you’re around.

“You can invite him in if you’d like, human. He won’t be able to sneak up on you anymore. See you,” he turns on his heel, leaving the two of you alone. Wooyoung ignores him, pouting as he meets your eyes.

“Let me in?” He asks again.

You really don’t have to now. He seems to read your mind, falling to his knees in front of the opening of your door. It’s humorous enough to make you chuckle a bit, watching the drama of it all. He lies on the floor, arms spread out as he sighs quite loudly.

“Come in, Wooyoung.”

He moves so quickly, you can barely blink before you’re enveloped in his arms. His hands gripping your sides, face in your neck. He breathes you in, fingers rubbing small circles into your skin. You wrap your arms around him as well, the sound leaving him odd in itself. “I’ve dreamt of your touch so heavily.” His lips move against the skin of your neck. His chest rises and falls, body trembling. “I want you to want me so badly, y/n. I think I like you a little too much," Wooyoung says, pulling back. You don't give him a reaction on the surface, but you feel your heart tighten, breath hitch. "It's nice to speak to you even when you don't utter a word. I hope you never leave me."

"You're so fond of me that I can't help but wonder how I look in your eyes," you admit.

"You are my sunlight, solaris. There is no one that shines brighter.”

"Wooyoung," you merely sigh, stepping away from him. It is a miracle that he moves back. "Half truths are annoying to listen to."

"I'm not lying. I can't."

"I know that. But I also know that you speak using words that aren't exact so you can slip them through as truths. It only makes you even more of a liar. Now let me finish unpacking so I can go to Seonghwa." You step past him, burying yourself further into the crevices of your suitcase.

He places his hand on the zipper, forcing your gaze on his. The teasing look in his eyes is gone, lips tight. You would be scared if it wasn't Wooyoung doing the gesture. He tilts his head slightly, watching you. "Do you like me too?"

Yes.

"You're a good friend."

His eyes narrow. "A non-answer. You've been around Unseelie too long."

"What do you want me to say, yes?" You frown.

He sighs softly. His hand reaches out, fingers almost brushing against your cheek. before pulling back. "I want you to say what you feel."

"Wooyoung, you're pulling me away from this,” you say, gesturing to the suitcase.

"I like you." There is no hesitance in his words, no stutter. He stares at you as he says it, blinking slowly. The fear is coming back, the sureness of his words too much too soon. You barely know him, know any of them. How could he like you so easily? And why would he confess something like that? What's his end goal? "And I want to know if you like me too."

"I don't," you whisper. "Now leave me alone."

"You lie so easily," a smirk easily forms as he slumps into a chair by the doorway. "At least I know you aren't a fae."

The night is quieter once Wooyoung leaves you alone after several hours of occupying your time. You’ve finally unpacked your things, rearranging your room. The familiar sight of things where you left them at your apartment felt too eerie. And though this is not what you want, you’d at least like it to be somewhat different. Not the same design that you had when you were with your fiance. You sit on the edge of the bed. Exhaustion flows through you.

“Ah, there you are.”

Your head whips up. Yunho stands outside your door. His gaze rolls over you. The soft gaze he holds each time he looks at you. His outfit is comfortable, long pants and a sweater covering his upper body. There’s nothing in front of you that shows what happened to him that night. How his body was dragged away from you. How you ran, not daring to look back. You’ve regretted that ever since, hoped and prayed that he would be okay. And here he is - a bit tired looking, but he’s Yunho. Not much has changed.

You stand up, and he shakes his head. “Just walking by.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry for running and leaving you alone, I’m sorry.”

“y/n, I didn’t come here for an apology. I came here to make sure you were okay.”

“I still want to apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for, just as there’s nothing for me to forgive. You are alive, and I am alive. That is all that matters,” his head tilts as he stares at you. Cheeks lifting, “You’re safe.”

His presence does not give you a hint of anxiousness. You’ve been wondering why he hasn’t entered yet, until your eyes move to the barrier around your room door. “You can come in if you want to, Yunho. No need to linger in the doorway.”

He smiles, slipping in easily once you’ve let him. “I didn’t want to ask.”

“You’re welcome here, Yun.”

Your response is all too quick for your liking. Easily showing him that you crave his attention. At least a little. Yunho is ever so kind not to point that out to you.

“Thank you,” he takes the chair that Wooyoung was sitting in, sliding it closer to your bed. He sits in it, height matching yours even as he rests below you. “I was worried you’d be sulking alone without anyone around. This transition must be difficult for you. Leaving all you know behind.”

You’ve tried not to think of it, mind focused on making sure everything was in order. “It is hard, yes. But I’ve been distracting myself,” you gesture around the room. “Still wondering how the hell you guys got everything I own into this room.”

“We are Unseelie, y/n. Our magic can easily do things like this,” he smiles. “Did you think that we’d place everything one by one? That would be an invasion of your privacy. Some of us wouldn’t mind…”

You can easily guess who he’s speaking of.

“...but we do want you to be comfortable.”

Ah, so your underwear is free from prying eyes. You could kiss his feet for this revelation.

“She should not be here.”

“Yunho needed her here. As did Wooyoung. It was the best choice at the time.”

“I told you to stay away from the hu-” Seonghwa’s mouth is unable to say the next word. “Her. Now we’ll have more problems coming for us.”

“She was in danger, hyung. Did you expect me to let her suffer?”

Seonghwa merely sighs, flipping through his journal. “No. She would have saved herself as she did before. Or have you forgotten how she killed that Seelie?” It is not something he’s forgotten. The name still rings in his mind each time he sees you. “She should not be here.”

“It will be fine. We can protect her now.”

“You’re not taking in my words.”

“She can’t even control when she can defend herself. She doesn’t even remember how she did it. Seonghwa,” San watches him walk around the room, avoiding eye contact. “Is there something else you’re not telling us? Is that why you’re so defensive about this?”

“She is a liability,” he says simply. “She killed a faerie, San. I do hope you remember that. If she can kill one without her killing herself in the process, what do you think is the outcome?” It is a simple question with an even simpler answer. San only sighs, fingers rubbing his temple slowly. “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” San sits on the edge of the table, ignoring the glare Seonghwa shoots at him. He’s fairly close to the set of blocks Seonghwa has been working on. “I don’t think she would hurt any of us. Not on purpose.”

“An accident is still possible,” Seonghwa points out. “I hope you know that she’s your responsibility now. If something were to happen, it is on you and you alone. Watch her.” Seonghwa glances at his set, “And don’t break anything.”

Hongjoong enters the room as Seonghwa exits. San tenses up at his appearance, knowing what he said to Yeosang not too long ago. He stands by it, of course. A direct command from their spark leader would make him sway, though. And with enough digging at it, he would be at the mercy of his words, just like the rest of them are. Hongjoong has only done that once, with Wooyoung, but never again.

"She is an experiment to you," Hongjoong says, eyes flicking over San's face. He leans against the table, candy between his lips. "Just as it is for Seonghwa. There is nothing more?"

"I…" San cannot help himself, his mind immediately sliding to just days ago. When you stood with the others not too long ago, rolling your eyes at something Wooyoung said. Yeosang watched you silently, but San could see it. He could see how he looked at you. He would have been a fool not to.

"You are quite devoted to us, have been ever since you left them. But the lines seem to be blurring now," Hongjoong continues in. "You know that this is temporary."

"It is," San agrees softly. "It is temporary."

"But do you want it to be?"

He is not sure how to answer that.

—

It’s been a little more than a week since you’ve arrived at your permanent home. The others have greeted you as if you’ve never left, aside from Wooyoung, often stuck on your side if he isn’t with Yunho. Hongjoong even, a strange look on his face as he spotted you, welcomed you with open arms. Oddly enough, San has rarely left you alone longer than a few minutes. He did not really sit by you, but he’s always in the room. What was at first a curious coincidence became quite obvious. The only time he didn’t bother you was when you were in your own room. Aside from that, he’s always around. The scowl has shifted a bit whenever you’re with him though.

Like right now, as you’re sewing up a small hole in your shirt. You began the conversation around a book you were reading, the genre romance. San surprisingly brought up Jongho, and how he enjoyed the same types of books as you.

“He’s a hopeless romantic,” San murmurs, eyes steady on yours as he watches you sew. You pause in your stitch briefly, before continuing. “The type to want to belong to someone since the beginning of time, breath in your soul, kiss the path you walk, type of faerie. It’s a little humorous to think of an Unseelie with an affinity for affection. They usually thrive off terror and distaste.”

“He doesn’t seem like the type,” you note, glancing at San. He hums, sinking further into the couch despite the glare you send him. You already told him that you didn’t need him around, and he insisted that it was only for a few minutes. Those few turned into over an hour now. “Do faeries love like humans?”

“Not quite. If a faerie ever chose to love, it’s unlike humans. We can’t just stop loving or move on to a different partner. Desire is different when you are born to wreak havoc on poor souls. It is a luxury to be able to mate more than one. As for us,” he rolls onto his stomach, “We care for one another as a spark should. If one of us were to die, then it’d be physically detrimental to our beings. It’s less of an explanation of love and more of an obligation. We get to choose our family, but you don’t.” His lips downturn. “I do not pity you for that.”

“Are you not… born?” Is that the way to say it?

He laughs, “Not like you are. Our essence is created from the universe as well as our chosen destiny. I was more so created from matter than born from a biological relative. That is what I envy, just a little,” his brows furrow, thinking. “I know not all human parents are good, but a lot are. It would be nice to have a connection with someone without even trying. To have someone care for you without limitations. I can see why Jongho wants an affection so very deep when he has not ever or may never experience it himself.”

“So it is not just the books he likes to read, then?”

He agrees, “No. He has us, yes. But he is not truly a romantic mate. He loves us, but not that deeply. He is the last to join our spark. It makes sense that he does not feel as strongly as the rest of us.”

“Unseelie feel love?”

San's brows furrow, “Just because Unseelie are mischievous does not mean that they cannot experience happiness, joy and desire. Chaos is what drives their being, but there's always room for something other than that.”

“San.”

The two of you turn, Yeosang entering the room. He greets you with a light smile, turning to his mate. “Hongjoong wants to see you. I'll stick around her for a while until you come back.”

“Ah, so you are watching me,” you frown at San. “You think I'm going to chop you into bits or something?”

“The or something is what I am wary of,” San mumbles, standing. His hand brushes against Yeosang’s hip before disappearing from the room. You haven't spent much time with Yeosang on your own, so you don't say a word and continue to mend your shirt.

He rests where San once was though sitting straight up, a small book floating in front of his face, the air flipping through the pages as he reads. You do not mean to stare at him, but you can't help it. Seeing magic performed in front of you, real magic, is fascinating. You can't believe humans are so boring.

“It is a wonder any of us are interested in you,” Yeosang says, glancing at you. “Humans are boring.”

“You heard me?”

He shakes his head, low laugh escaping his lips, “No. But I heard your thoughts. A bit loud in there, I might add. You should keep it down.”

You blanch.

“You can hear what I’m saying in my head?”

A page pauses mid-flip. “Not exactly. I can only hear what you want me to. It’s quite complicated,” he glances at you. “No one but me can pick up on stray thoughts, if you were worried about any of the others somehow picking up on what you’re thinking. That one I heard just now slipped because you were so in tuned to me.”

Oh, you hate this. You definitely hate all of this. He drops his book on the table, body fully turning to look at you. “Would you like to take a stroll with me?”

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #ot8 x reader #san x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months ago

Note

Hiya hiya! Once again congratulations on 500! I was wondering if I could request a fic with Isagi and handholding! Idk hand holding sounds very romantic so I would love to see how you’ll write it!

── PATHWAYS

Synopsis: You go on a walk with your boyfriend while he’s on a break from the intense training of Blue Lock.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: fluff, isagi is lowkey a simp, slight rin and nagi slander (i love them though i promise)

A/N: EEK i’m sorry this took me a sec anon!! i’ve never written for isagi before so this was def smth new which is why it took me a bit to get in the right headspace. i hope it’s okay for you <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was colder outside than you had expected. Isagi, who was wearing a coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck, didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, but as for you, you were miserably trying to hide your shivers, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself to disguise it. He had told you that it was chilly, and you had ignored his warning, so it was now your burden to bear.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Isagi said, white clouds forming in the air from the heat of his breath. “I missed you a lot the entire time I was there.”

“I missed you, too,” you said. “I know we were able to talk a few times on your one friend’s phone, but it wasn’t the same.”

Isagi wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my own back. I really tried my best. I wanted to talk to you as much as I could, to make up for our physical distance.”

“It’s okay. The fact that you were willing to take care of all of your teammate’s sweaty, gross laundry just to get the chance to call me for a couple of minutes means more to me than anything,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked along the side of the dirt path connecting your house to the nearest park.

“That was definitely a sacrifice,” he said, gagging from just the memory. “I’d do it again for you, but it was really horrible, Y/N. It’s bad enough dealing with my own clothes after matches, but adding Nagi’s to the mix…it was brutal, to say the least.”

“My poor boyfriend,” you said. “I’m so lucky to have someone who’s willing to endure so much for me. I must’ve been a really good person in my last life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I was kind of scared you’d find someone else while I was gone. It would only make sense, right? How could a girl as beautiful as you not have a million other options? It would be pretty easy for you to forget about me and move on.”

“Would you forget about me and move on if the roles were reversed?” you said, your teeth chattering. Isagi’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing behind his dark hair.

“No way!” he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders. “I’d never, ever do that. I still can’t believe I’m dating you at all!”

“You’re so goofy,” you said. “Hey, don’t give me this. Won’t you get cold?”

“Nah, I’m tough. What kind of number-one striker gets defeated by some wind?” he said. You hummed appreciatively, zipping up the large jacket and rejoicing in the warmth it instantly provided you with.

“Number-one striker, and the hero of Blue Lock, I’m told,” you said. His cheeks turned pink.

“That, too,” he said.

“It’s all everyone at school talks about. One day, you just randomly disappeared, and no one but me knew where you had gone. Then suddenly, you were on TV, making the winning goal in one of the most exciting matches of soccer any of us had ever seen! I feel like the girlfriend of a celebrity,” you said.

“You should get used to it,” he said. “I’m only going to get better from here. I’ll be a World Cup winner next, and since you’re stuck with me, you’re going to have to deal with everything that that entails.”

“Stuck with you?” you said. He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly, holding up your interlaced fingers so that he could admire them.

“Do you see your hand?” he said, very seriously.

“I see it,” you said.

“And you see mine?” he continued.

“Mhm,” you said. As always, his were warm, compared to the iciness of your extremities. He liked to joke that it meant the two of you were made for each other, only able to reach the perfect temperature when you were together.

“That’s us,” he said. “We’re going to be like that forever.”

“Goofy and cheesy? What a lethal combination,” you said, shaking your head.

His palm was callused and rough against yours, a proof of how hard he worked. He was always like that, you had noticed even upon first meeting him, always doing the best he could in any given situation, making up for any disadvantages with the sheer force of his will alone. It was nice to have that tangible reminder of who he was pressed against you, so you made no move to let go of his hand even after his little demonstration had concluded.

“I know,” he said. “And my jokes are really bad. But you like that about me, right?”

“I do,” you said. “Your jokes aren’t terrible, though. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“They make you laugh, so I guess they can’t be that bad,” he said. “Although everyone in Blue Lock hated them. One time, my friend Bachira threw a shoe at me for being unfunny, and Rin Itoshi called me a lukewarm NPC for trying to cheer him up with a pun.”

“If anyone is an NPC, it’s him, just for unironically calling someone that,” you said. “They just don’t understand you, Isagi. It’s okay; true art is never appreciated by the masses.”

“That’s right. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind if they detest me,” he said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Should we get sour gummies at the convenience store? It’s been forever since I had some,” he said, his entire face turning red. It was funny — he would declare his love to you in the most cliched of ways and entirely on a whim, but if you ever reciprocated, he would shut down entirely. Like he said, he really still couldn’t believe that you both were actually together, that in fact you had been together for months now, and so he often acted like a little kid with his first crush whenever he was around you.

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ve been craving some myself,” you said.

“Okay! Let’s go. I’ll race you!” he said, taking off at a run, though contrary to his challenging words, he pulled you along, careful to keep your hands connected as you giggled and stumbled after him.

You had missed him, so much more than you could ever verbalize. You had spent every day that he was gone thinking about him, his spontaneity, his wide smile and his kindness, the gentle way he always spoke to you, how easily taking care of you came to him.

Running towards the convenience store alongside him, you held onto his hand tightly, as much for balance as because you couldn’t imagine letting go.

#isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #isagi x you #isagi yoichi #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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winchesterwild78 · 3 months ago

Text

Rekindled

Master List

Characters: Russell Shaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of sex, fluff, heartbreak, language

A/N: I haven’t written a Russell fic yet and with him coming back to Tracker I wanted to test it out. Just a quick story about him. Written fast and edited fast. Maybe a few chapters.

All work is my own, used characters from the show Tracker, but this does not follow the story

Minors DNI 18+

Russell had been a whirlwind, a force of nature that swept you off your feet. You’d met in high school, he was about 2 years older, but your shared love of literature sparked a connection that ignited into a wildfire. Your days were filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and the intoxicating thrill of young love.

You spoke of a future together, of building a life filled with laughter, love, children, and shared dreams. And then, one night, under the soft glow of the moon, your love deepened in a way that forever changed you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy that solidified your bond.

But fate had other plans. A cruel twist of destiny tore you apart when Russell's father passed away unexpectedly. He disappeared, leaving behind a gaping hole in your heart and a shattered future. You mourned the loss of the man you loved and the life you’d envisioned together.

Years passed, and you had learned to live with the pain. Then one night unexpectedly Russell came back into town. He was older, life had been hard on him, and his family was still ripped apart from that cruel night years ago.

You were working at the local bar, working your way through college and trying to make a better life for yourself. Who would have thought you, a straight A, honor student wouldn’t go to college right after high school. Like Russell, fate had other plans for you. After Russell left, your life spiraled. Your parents split, and then your mom got sick and couldn’t work. With Russell gone, you had nobody to turn to. So while your friends were going to college, you worked full time to help support the household.

Now that your mom was better, you were able to work and go to school. So here you were, thirty something, waiting tables in the local bar for a measly paycheck and tips. As you cleared a table you heard someone call your name from behind you. “Hey there sweetheart.” That deep, smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine.

Turning and looking in the direction of the voice, you were met with the green eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Russell, it’s good to see you. You’re looking good.” You offered him a soft smile. Russell smirked, looked you up and down, “So are you darlin’.”

You blushed, “What can I get for you?” You asked him as he took a seat. “I’ll have a whiskey.” You nodded and walked towards the bar. You bit your lip as you glanced back at Russell. His eyes were locked onto you.

When the bartender handed you the drink, you walked it over and sat it down. “Anything else?” You asked as your heart thumped widely in your chest. Russell’s tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip, “Maybe your number, so we can catch up.” Your breath hitched. You couldn’t fall for this man again, knowing he wasn’t staying in town. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you started to walk away. Russell gently grabbed your arm, “Sweetheart, I need to talk to you. I need to explain.” “No you don’t Russell, I get it. After your dad died it was easier to leave than to stay and face the pain. It’s okay, really.” Russell ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N, I want to talk to you, you deserve an explanation. I’ve hated how I left you. I was in love with you, and then dad died and mom told me to leave.”

Your heart ached for him, for the love you two shared. You didn’t know his mother told him to leave. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your pad of paper and a pen, jotting down your number, you slid it to him. “I get off at 10. Call me and I’ll meet you somewhere.” Russell took the paper and nodded. As you turned to walk away he called your name, “Y/N, I want you to know I never stopped loving you.”

You nodded and turned away quickly before he saw the tears that filled your eyes. Running to the back, the tears fell fast and heavy. Your heart was torn between the love you shared and the hurt that filled you when he left. Your co-worker Adam came in the back and saw you crying. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” You wiped your eyes and face, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just some old baggage I guess.” He nodded and looked at you with concern in his eyes, but he let it go.

A few hours later as your shift was coming to an end, you noticed Russell still hadn’t left the bar. You were clearing tables and wiping them off. You approached his table, “You ready to settle your check? I’m about to leave.” He nodded, and handed you a $100 bill. “I’ll be right back.” You went to pay his tab, walking back to his table with the change you handed it to him. Your hand brushing against his. A shiver went through your body. He smirked and you turned red. “Well, Y/N, I’ll talk to you soon. How about I call you at 11?” You nodded, “Sure, that will give me plenty of time to head home, shower and change.” He nodded and you walked away.

You noticed he had left the bar, and when you walked over to his table to clear it you saw his change, almost $60 on the table, with a note. Just a little tip for the cutest girl in the bar. -R You smiled and your heart fluttered.

After your shift you went home, showered and changed. At exactly 11pm, your phone rang and it was Russell. “Hey Y/N. I told you I'd call at 11.” “You’re very punctual, Russell.” You laughed. “Can we meet, Y/N? I really want to talk to you face to face.” You bit your lip, part of you was terrified of meeting him in person, but another part of you was screaming to be back in his arms. “Sure, where?” You asked with a shaky voice. “Our spot” Russell replied softly.

Your mind drifted back to the night you and Russell made love under the stars. He called it your spot, saying it would always be your spot. He’d carved yours and his initials into the tree that stood guard over the two of you. “Sure, I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. See you soon, Russell.” “See you soon, Y/N.”

Hanging up, you grabbed your jacket and purse. Looking in the mirror before leaving you felt the same butterflies you had all those years ago. You smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror. Seeing the young girl behind the tired eyes looking back at you.

About 5 minutes later you were pulling up to the lake. You noticed Russell standing, leaning against his gorgeous car. The top was up, he was standing with his arms folded over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles. You bit your lip, god this man was gorgeous. Knowing you were in trouble, because you were still deeply in love with him.

He smiled and pushed off his car as you put yours in park, “Hey Y/N. I’m glad you could make it.” He pulled you into his arms and hugged you. Inhaling deeply, he smelled heavenly, and like home. His arms felt like home, he was your home.

“Y/N, I have so much I want to say to you. I just don’t know where to begin.” You touched his chest softly and looked into his eyes, “Just start at the beginning. Why did you leave me?” Russell took a deep breath, “My mother told me to leave after her and I got into a fight that night. There’s a lot of things that happened with my parents that I didn't understand until recently. They were doing some really shady things, illegal things. That’s why dad was paranoid and had us living off the grid. I ran into a guy recently and got my hands on some files. I think my dad was murdered and I believe my mom knows who did it. I’ve reached out to Colter, and he’s supposed to meet me here in a few days. I came in early because I wanted to see you. I wanted to let you know I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I wanted that life we talked about.” Your breath hitched, “Russell, I don’t know what to say. I wanted that life too. I guess life, fate had other plans for us. You’ve moved on and so have I.”

Russell gasped softly, “I see.” His eyes filled with sadness. Your heart clenched. Being with him, in that spot. The spot where you both gave so much of yourselves to each other was becoming overwhelming. “Russell, I don’t know what to say.” You touched his face softly and he leaned into your touch. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never should have left you.”

“Russell, you didn’t have a choice. I understand.” He cupped your face just as the rain started to fall from the sky. He leaned in and hesitated. Stopping, to give you the chance to pull away. You leaned into him, your lips ghosting over his. The kiss was soft at first. Your lips trembled against his.

As the rain fell harder, Russell slid his hands in your hair and pulled you further into the kiss. Your tongues dancing and fighting for dominance. You moaned into his mouth and he smirked against yours. All these years, the love was still there. The two of you pulled away, panting and gasping for air.

Your clothes soaked from the rain. Russell pulled you flush to his body. The warmth of his embrace was a stark contrast to the chill from the rain. He leaned to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.” You nodded and he pulled you by your hand to his car. Getting into the car, Russell started it and headed towards his hotel room.

When he pulled up, the neon No Vacancy sign was casting a red glow over the car. You looked over at him, “Russell, what are we doing here?” “Just talking. Trying to bury the past, Y/N. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.”

You took a shaky breath in and let it out, “What if I want you to invite me in?” Russell turned and looked at you, “Then I’d ask you in.” You smiled softly and touched his arm, “I’d like that.”

Russell turned off the car, got out and walked to your side. He opened the door and led you inside his room.

Once inside he closed the door with his foot, locked it and took you in his arms. The heat between the two of you was undeniable. As the wet clothes you were wearing were shed, whispers and confessions of love were shared. The two of you tumbled into the bed and tangled your bodies with the sheets.

By the end of the night, the two of you were breathless and fully satisfied. You laid in Russell’s arms as he held you tightly. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I left you.” “I know you are, Russell. I love you too.” He pulled you closer and kissed your head, “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” You drifted off to sleep in his arms.

The next few days you two spent making up for lost time and being back in each other’s arms. You never stopped loving him. After his meeting with Colter, you felt something shift between you. He seemed distant and angry. You tried to get him to talk to you, to open up to you.

“Russell, please talk to me. What happened with Colter?” “Nothing! Don’t worry about my families, troubles.” He snapped, catching you off guard. Tears filled your eyes. “I think you should leave, Y/N. This isn’t going to go where you think it will.” You gasped and quietly looked at him, grabbing your bag and stepped into the crisp air. Russell sat on the bed of his hotel room and watched you walk out. Everything in his body was screaming at him to go after you, but he just sat there.

As you climbed in your car, you sat there and sobbed. Your heart breaking all over again. How could you be so stupid to think he would stay again. Just a means to an end, to help him pass the time until he met with his brother. You hit the steering wheel, and screamed. Fuck you Russell! You selfish bastard.

*Time Jump 3 years*

You’d built a new life after graduating with your degree, but a part of you remained forever tied to the man who had stolen your heart and swept you off your feet again 3 years ago. Partly because of the child your passionate nights together had created. A son, who looked just like his father, and was a constant reminder of the joy and pain left in Russell’s absence.

Then, one day, Russell returned. You saw him across the street, his presence sending a jolt of recognition through you. As he approached, memories flooded back. The way he used to laugh, his infectious smile, the softness in his eyes. You realized that despite the years, the love you felt for him had never truly faded. And as he looked at you, you could see the same longing in his eyes. Your heart was torn between the love you still felt and the hurt left in his wake.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice is deep and smooth like whiskey. “Hey, Russell.” You replied, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer to you, “Can I hug you?” He asked. You bit your lip nervously, and shook your head yes. He pulled you flush to his chest and his strong arms wrapped around you. Sending your mind reeling and your heart racing.

When he let you go, he looked into your eyes, “You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” “Thank you, Russell. How have you been?” You asked him. “I’ve been okay. Just doing some private security, I’m helping Colter on a case. What about you? Are you married, have any kids?”

You bit your lip and looked up into his green eyes, “No, I’m not married, but I do have a son. He’s almost 3.”

“Wow, sweetheart, 3?” Russell asked with wide eyes. Then it was like a moment of clarity washed over him. His green eyes meet yours. Tears filled your eyes. You hadn’t told him or even Colter that you were pregnant with Russell’s baby.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t risk him breaking your heart or your son’s heart. When you found out you were pregnant about a month after he left you weighed your options. You weren’t sure you could finish school and have a baby, but your mother offered to help so you could.

You had your son and finished your degree, now you were working at your dream job, had a place of your own and an amazing son.

You fidgeted with your hands and shifted. Looking back into his eyes, you saw they were full of questions. Taking a shaky breath you decided to tell him.

“Russell, he’s yours.” Russell’s eyes went wide, “What? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back for you, for both of you.” “Would you have, really? I clearly remember you telling me this wasn’t going to go the way I thought it would. I thought we would be together, have children together. I guess those few nights we spent together was just a means to an end for you until Colter came to town. You so easily walked away from me, threw me away. Why would I put my son through that?! He deserves so much better than that!”

Your chest was heaving and tears were streaming down your face. Russell’s eyes softened and flashed with a mixture of embarrassment and regret. He stepped closer to you and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, again. After my meeting with Colter, I got scared. I didn’t want to pull you into this shit. It’s crazy and complicated. Fuck! I have been in love with you since we were teenagers. I never married because no one ever compared to you. You have always and will always be the love of my life, Y/N.”

Without warning he placed a soft kiss on your lips while he cupped your face. You moaned into his mouth. As the two of you pulled apart, he wiped the tears that stained your face. “Russell, I’m scared. I don’t want him to be hurt. He would love to meet you. I’ve always told him his daddy was away helping people and one day he’d come home. I don’t want you to come into his life, into my life again and break our hearts. I can’t go through that again, and he shouldn’t have to.”

Russell nodded, “I know. All I can say is if you let me into your lives, I promise I won’t leave you again. I love you, and I want to meet our son. It’s your choice. I’ll wait for you to make the decision, text me when you decide. Either way, I’m going to help you support him. Can I at least see a picture of him?”

You nodded and pulled out your phone showing Russell a picture of the spitting image of himself, sandy brown hair, big green eyes, dimples and a mischievous grin. Russell smiled softly and looked at you, “He looks just like me. What’s his name?” You chuckled softly, “Russell Jr., I wanted him to have your name and yes he looks just like you. He’s definitely wrapped around my finger for sure.”

Russell couldn’t take his eyes off the photo. The photo of your son, of his son. He’d always dreamed of having children with you, but seeing your son took his breath away.

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Sorry I made you leave and that I left you alone in all of this. I can’t imagine what you went through to have him and finish school.” He stepped up to you and took you in his arms again, “I promise you’ll never have to do anything alone again. No matter what you decide, I’ll always be there for you and our son. I love you.”

You swallowed hard, “I still love you too, Russell. I never stopped. Please don’t make me regret this, but I’d love for you to meet our son.” Russell stepped closer, face inches from your lips. “When?” Russell asked softly as his hot breath ghosted your lips. “What about tonight?” You replied as you leaned closer to him. “I’d love that.” He said as he kissed your lips. You knew right then your heart still belonged to Russell, and his heart belonged to you.

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

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@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

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@spxideyver @reignsboy19

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@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part ten)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I really love this chapter. Let's see if you can find the reference I made in here. I honestly make so many references in the fics I write, but no one has noticed them.

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The tension in the air could have been cut by a blunt knife.

The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian was staring down one of the most feared man in Prythian, the Spymaster of the Night Court.

They were nearly chest to chest, and Y/n feared that if someone didn't step in, this place would be bathed in blood. So she cleared her throat.

Azriel looked at her, brows furrowed.

"I– can we go back? Can you take me back?"

"Sure–" As he began to turn to her, the High Lord's hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulders. Azriel glared at the hand and then it's owner.

"Cassian can take her back. Or if its him you want to go with, please wait for sometime." Rhys glanced at her while saying the second part. "My office. Now." He threw at Azriel before stalking out of the room.

Everyone watched him go, a muscle feathering in Azriel's jaw as he turned to her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be there soon." With that, he turned and followed Rhys.

Y/n's stomach turned as she thought about what could happen to Azriel. The high lord was said to be ruthless and cunning, and even though he hadn't seemed like it when they first met, she didn't know if she could sit still until she was sure that her husband was safe. The urge to follow him and make sure he wouldn't be harmed was overpowering any sense she had, but before she could take a step, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder.

He tilted his head towards the door, and she nodded. Glancing back one last time to where Azriel had disappeared, she followed Cassian outside.

She stayed quiet the whole time, muttering a thanks to Cassian when they landed before locking herself in her room.

She couldn't stop thinking about Azriel and what he'd done today. Allegedly done today.

She changed into her nightgown, climbing into bed hoping to sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop trying to find some meaning in his actions. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.

•○🌑○•

It had been almost more than an hour now, and Y/n couldn't sleep no matter what she did. With a huff of annoyance, she threw the covers aside and stood, stomping to the balcony and leaning against the railing. Her minds inability to just shut the hell up was frustrating.

As her mind drifted through the plethora of thoughts in her head again, she couldn't help but think back to where Azriel might be right now. Was he back yet? He would come to meet her if he was, right?

As soon as she had those thoughts, she heard the familiar scuff of boots coming near, and her chest started loosening. From the sound of it, the door opened and closed behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and slapping him at the same time. She wondered which she would prefer.

She could feel him coming closer, and she gripped the railing tightly.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, having stopped a little distance away.

She shook her head. "Did you really do it?"

A pause. "Yes."

She nodded, not knowing what to say to that. He took that as a cue to step forward. She knew he did because one moment her back was cold, and the next, she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her gown. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed, considering the thing she was wearing barely reached her knee, and it was only held up by thin strings.

She inwardly cursed Nesta for this. Y/n had never worn something like this, and when she and Nesta had started to become friends, Nesta was appaled when she realised Y/n did not sleep half naked.

"Do you have nothing to say to that?" Azriel asked, his body like a furnace behind her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How– how do you feel about all of this?"

"I don't know..."

"Does it bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, it does not. But what about the women and children?"

"They were evacuated to safety. And your brother, he's here."

At that, she finally turned slightly to look at him. She hadn't even thought of her brother who lived in the camp. She didn't have to worry about Velda as she lived in a different camp.

Azriel towered over her, studying her.

"What?"

"He is living in an inn across the Sidra."

"Really?" When he nodded, relief spread through her. She mumbled a thank you before turning back to the view in front of her.

"Your....your father is alive."

She stiffened. "What?" She whispered.

"He burned in the fire, but I just felt like he didn't suffer enough for his crimes." He stated casually, as if he was telling her about the weather.

She blinked at the night sky before asking the same question again.

"I bought him here. He is where we keep all the prisoners and I... interrogate them. He is badly injured and won't be able to escape. I wanted to ask you before I did anything to him."

She knew exactly what he meant with that.

"What did you want to ask."

"You were the one who suffered from his ministrations. You deserve the right to punish him however you want. You can either let him live, give him a quick death or let me handle him."

"What would letting you handle him entail?"

"I'll go all Spymaster on him. I'll do all the things I do to the prisoners to get information out of them."

She nodded. Thinking for some time, she finally decided. "Then I'll let you handle him."

He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

His hands landed on either side of her on the railing as he leaned closer. "Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach as he kissed her shoulder before straightening. "Come, you should sleep."

She turned to him, and ignoring her mind, she followed her heart's urge to wrap her arms around her husband. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using the other to cradle the back of her head.

"Thank you. You didn't need to do this." She mumbled against his chest.

"I absolutely did." She pulled back from him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before tugging her back into the room.

As she lay down and he arranged the covers around her, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Azriel? Your father and brothers lived in the camp too. What happened to them?"

He gave her a smile, and honestly she should have been scared of it. But she wasn't, and that scared her more than anything else did.

"They're dead."

"Did you see them?"

"Yes. And it gave me immense satisfaction."

"Wish I could have witnessed it."

He blinked at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. He pushed her hair back from her face as he straightened. "Hmm. Next time I do something like this, I'll make sure to take you with me."

She grinned, just a little bit, shaking her head. He stared at her for a few moments before nodding his head and turning away. "Good night."

She didn't want him to go. Atleast, not yet.

She had only a moment to make her choice, and she did.

Her heart danced with joy while her mind screamed at her that this was a bad idea.

"Azriel." She burst out before she lost her nerve.

He paused, turning back slightly. "Yes?"

"Can you– can you stay?"

He stared at her. "What? You– you want me to stay?"

Instantly, a blush was climbing up her neck. What if he didn't want to stay? She kicked herself mentally. "Only if you wish to–"

"I do." His eyes shone. "Um– do you want me to sleep on the ground? I have no problem with it."

She shook her head. "Stay next to me. Please."

The room was dark, the only light provided by the moonlight filtering in from the doors of the balcony. She almost couldn't see the flush on his neck and face as he rounded the bed, where a few clothes had appeared. He took them and walked into the bathing chamber to change.

When he walked back out he was dressed in loose pants and shirt. He slowly climbed into the bed. He was as stiff as a plank with tension as he lay as far as he could from her.

She smiled and turned on her back. "You can relax you know. You'll never get any sleep if you're that tensed up."

He sighed. "I know."

She bit her lip. "I don't bite...much."

His head whipped to her. And honestly, she agreed. She wasn't bold in any way. She didn't even know where that came from.

"Tell me about something interesting."

"Velaris was built by Rhys's father." He supplied.

"Really? Wasn't he..."

"Cruel? A monster? That he was. But he did build and protect Velaris. The only good thing he did, honestly."

"What was he like?"

Azriel began telling her about the previous High Lord of Night Court, and she listened, her attention rapt. As moments passed, his voice filling the room, he relaxed gradually. He also told her about Cassian's past and his mother.

When he was done, they stayed silent. She processed all the information that had just been dumped on her. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Would you accept an olive branch?" She nodded and he pulled her closer. Now she was as stiff as a board.

"Relax. I don't bite...much." He murmured against her hair.

She sat up abruptly. "Was that a joke Spymaster?"

He grinned, pulling her back to his chest. "Maybe." After a pause, he went on. "Sleep. I won't try anything. No funny business unless you ask for it."

"Shame." She mumbled under her breath.

"Did you say something Y/n?"

Of course the bastard heard her. "No."

"I feel like Nesta is a really bad influence on you."

"Shut up." She shoved his chest lightly. He just kissed her head and wished her a good night.

As she drifted off, she felt safer than she had felt in her whole existence. She knew he would protect her always, no matter what.

And maybe that should have scared her, but it just made her feel warm and happy, making something in her chest sing.

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Part 11

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tired-truffle · 23 days ago

Text

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Part 11/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

Warning: Dream sequence involving dead body

Masterlist

Be back soon, stay calm.

-M

You’d spent hours - had it been hours? You could no longer remember - thinking of what to write before you’d settled on the simple sentence. He’d written it to you when he’d gone to get medicine from Piltover, and now you’d written it to him as you left to seek an answer to your…predicament.

You’d only gotten worse, every second spent in fear, your magic reacting accordingly. It was a small miracle that you hadn’t seriously injured anyone, but you knew you couldn’t stay locked in your room forever. You needed to regain yourself before your baser instincts consumed you completely.

Heimerdinger had helped you the first time you’d needed it, had given you information on Motus Mages and provided you with a safe place to stay. He was a genius with centuries of knowledge, maybe he could find a way to tame your wild magic and bring it under control. Or, if there was no solution, he could construct a cage to contain you. Viktor would never resort to such measures, even if it was necessary, even if you begged him. But Heimerdinger was less emotionally involved and had always been pragmatic. He would see it as a mercy. Better to lock you away than put you down like a rabid dog, right?

The only problem was that you had no idea where he was. He’d disappeared when he’d been ousted from the council, and you haydn’t a single clue as to where to begin looking for him. Luckily, your visions did. Night after night they showed you; Heimerdinger surrounded by a group of small children as they eagerly displayed their homemade gadgets to his delighted surprise, Heimerdinger with a young dark-skinned boy, his hair styled in stark white dreads - concerned as they stared at a leaf splattered in a pastel rainbow-coloured pattern, a bat-like man stood off to the side, watching them with thickly muscled arms crossed over his chest.

All your dreams took place in a clearing, sunlight streaming through a thick canopy of leaves, a massive tree trunk spiralling up the centre. Art adorned the walls, a mural of those lost and symbols of the Firelights - Zaun’s freedom fighters. You’d heard whispers of them from the newcomers at the commune - when you’d been able to be among them - and an understanding tickled at the back of your mind. They were important, and the people spoke highly of them. Yet their whereabouts remained a mystery, leaving their supposed connection to Heimerdinger feeling inconsequential and irrelevant.

That was, until that morning, your magic-addled mind providing yet another vision as you paced your room. A crowd gathered around a weathered stone statue of a man long dead; Vander, a fighter for Zaun’s separation from Piltover. A woman with a metal arm concealed beneath her cape stood at the front, dark hair crowding her tired eyes, her jaw set with fierce determination. But it wasn't her that captured your attention. It was the bat-like figure lurking within the crowd, surrounded by several others dressed similarly. Firelights.

This vision would happen today, and you needed to be there. How hard could it be to find such a unique statue, especially if there was a large group of people heading that way?

Escaping the commune wasn’t particularly difficult either. With a cloak disguising your form and the sparks snuggled in the folds of your clothes, the hood pulled up to mask your features - and hide the commune members from your vision lest your mind decide to conjure up more hallucinations - you walked out of the front entrance without any issue.

Your cloak billowed behind you as you navigated the labyrinthine alleys. The acrid scent of chemicals and steam filled your nostrils as your feet carried you swiftly, driven by desperation and the fading echoes of your visions.

As you rounded a corner, you caught sight of a small group moving with purpose. Their faces were set with resolve, and you hoped they were headed to the rally. You fell into step behind them, careful to maintain a discreet distance. The group weaved through increasingly crowded streets, the buzz of excitement growing louder with each block.

There it was - the weathered statue of Vander, looming large and imposing - so familiar from your vision yet startlingly real.

Remaining at the back, your magic pulsing beneath your skin like a living thing, you scanned the gathering crowd. There was no sign of the bat-like man you sought, but that didn’t stop your brain from filling in the gaps.

Sky stood at the centre, her chin raised in defiance, her messy bun spilling down her neck. She’d been from Zaun, and though you’d only known her as a Piltovan, the Undercity never really left any of its citizens. As she turned her head towards you, you were taken aback by the faint white scars crisscrossing her face, adorned with silver hoops and piercings that gave her a sharp edge. Her usually subtle makeup was now bold, with thick black streaks framing her eyes and accentuating their deep, earthy colour. A mischievous grin spread across her face, like a cat who had just caught its prey, as she waggled her fingers at you.

Had she stayed in Zaun, would this have been who she’d become? Hardened by the harsh reality of living in the Lanes, but still unwilling to give up the fight for what she believed was right.

“It’s no secret we’ve got history. Blood spilt on all sides,” the woman from your vision began her speech over the murmur of the crowd, scattering your vision of Sky and sending a pang of longing through your heart. It wasn’t her, not really. She had died, and her spirit…well, you didn’t really know what happened after death here. You’d freed her from the Hexcore, and even though warmth bloomed in your chest whenever you thought of her, your guilt over not saving her in the first place threatened to tear apart every good memory of your time together.

“Focus,” you hissed to yourself, drowning out the mechanical-armed woman’s speech. You had a goal to accomplish, and as much as you wanted to help with their plight, you were no use to anyone like this. If anything, you were only a danger.

You scanned the crowd, heart pounding in your chest, until you spotted him. His bat ears twitched where he stood, alert and watchful at the front of the crowd. Relief flooded through you, tinged with a spark of hope. This was it, your chance to find Heimerdinger and maybe, just maybe, find a way to control your magic.

You started to make your way over, gently pushing through the throng of bodies. "Excuse me. Sorry, just trying to get through." Your magic hummed beneath your skin, responding to the heightened emotions. You clenched your fists, willing it to stay dormant.

As you navigated the sea of faces, a flash of blue caught your attention. You stopped, tilting your head to see where it had come from. On a balcony overlooking the square, a young girl stood proudly on the railings, arm outstretched, holding aloft a torch wreathed in vibrant blue smoke. Despite her size, she radiated a fierce determination that seemed to captivate the entire crowd.

The girl raised the torch higher, and all around you, people thrusted their fists skyward, faces alight with passion and hope. The cheer swelled, a tidal wave of sound that washed over you, threatening to sweep you away in its fervour.

You were caught in the middle of it all, your senses overwhelmed. The sharp smell of the smoke mingled with the press of bodies and the cheering. Your magic pulsed in time with the crowd's energy, and for a moment, you were terrified that you'd lose control.

You blinked hard, trying to focus through the sensory overload. The woman with the metal arm raised her fist triumphantly, but as she opened her mouth to speak, time seemed to slow.

A glint of sunlight off metal caught your eye. Your gaze tracked it instinctively, breath stuttering in your throat as you realized what it was. A spear, its wicked point gleaming, arched through the air with deadly precision.

Before you could even think of shouting a warning, the weapon found its mark. With a sickening thud, it pierced the woman's upraised metal arm, the force of the impact driving the spear clean through and embedding it in the statue behind her. The sound of metal scraping against stone made your teeth rattle.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. The woman's eyes widened in shock, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. Then chaos erupted. Screams tore through the air as people scrambled in all directions, a panicked tide threatening to sweep you off your feet.

Your magic surged within you, responding to the fear and confusion that saturated the space. You spun around, heart clamouring in your throat as enforcers - shields raised and weapons brandished - started closing in.

“You’re all under arrest,” a burly man clad in red clothes and silver-hued armour announced, straightening to his impressive height.

The enforcers advanced, and magic crackled at your fingertips.

The burly man cut all who ran or attempted to fight down with a lazy swing of his big fist, the enforcers catching the rest and pining them to the ground.

You backed up, but there was nowhere for you to go. An enforcer, his shield held sturdy in his grip and his face hidden behind his gas mask advanced on you, resolution in the strength of his strides.

“Please,” you begged, raising your hands, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But he didn’t hear your words. All he could see was the darting lightning of your magic jumping between your fingers, and the pink shimmer that ran through your veins. You were a threat, and he would take you down.

He lunged, and you tried to hold your magic back, but you were terrified, and your control was almost non-existent. It had been the whole reason you’d come here, to find a solution to your fraying restraints. Instead, you’d been plunged into the very situation you’d been trying to avoid.

From your palms came a wave of force, your arms raising to cover your face as you braced for an impact that never came. Breathing hard, you watched in horror as the enforcer was thrown across the courtyard, his body colliding with a stone wall and embedding in the rock. He slumped, dropping his shield and baton.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the motionless enforcer as he slid to the ground. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What had you done? Time seemed to slow as your mind raced, panic clawing at your throat. Had you just killed him? The thought made your stomach lurch violently.

You stumbled backward, magic crackling wildly around your trembling hands. Pink light pulsed beneath your skin, your power threatening to break free completely. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The world spun around you as guilt and terror battled for supremacy in your mind.

A flash of movement caught your eye, dragging your gaze away. And there, standing in the middle of the pandemonium, was a sight that made your blood run cold. Singed. The man who’d used Shimmer to bring you back from the brink of death and trap you in this cycle.

You froze, rooted to the spot as his piercing gaze swept over the square. What was he doing here? Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of his presence. Was he behind this attack? Connected to your predicament somehow? The questions swirled, each more horrifying than the last.

As if sensing your attention, Singed's eyes locked onto yours. He tilted his head, studying you with a detached curiosity that made your skin crawl. You wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but stand there paralyzed by his gaze.

You never got the chance. A sharp pain exploded at the base of your skull, and the world tilted sideways. Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. The last thing you saw before consciousness slipped away was Singed's impassive face, watching your fall with clinical interest.

Merciful oblivion claimed you, and you knew no more.

Flames rose from the desecrated grounds, flickering their malcontent as they consumed more and more of the commune. Smoke obscured your vision and tightened like a noose around your throat. Coughing did you no good, unable to catch your breath, you waved your hand in a useless attempt to clear the air. Eyes watering, you squinted into the inferno, arm raised to shield your face.

What had happened here?

Taking a careful step forward, the blurry outline of a figure amongst the flames came into view. As you got closer, the unmistakable soft brown locks, slim shoulders, and metallic limbs had relief filling your chest. Viktor, thank the gods, he was alive.

“Viktor,” you called to him as you headed his way, coughing as you breathed in yet more acrid smoke. “What’s going on?”

His head bent as though he heard you, but he did not turn around, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You abandoned us,” he spat like the words were poison on his tongue.

Your foot caught on a jagged beam, sending you lurching forward. Your lips parted in surprise and your eyes blinked rapidly as you tried to comprehend his words.

“What? No, I didn’t, I came back. I-I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

He raised his hand, and your heart pounded in terror as you heard the deep scorn and disappointment laced in his voice. “You left when I needed you most, when we needed you.”

With a single flick of his hand through the smoke, he dispersed it like a macabre curtain. Bodies materialized all around you, emerging from the haze like ghosts made flesh and blood and sinew. Your eyes darted frantically from one fallen form to the next, recognizing faces and names. The virulent stench of burning flesh assaulted your nose, making your eyes water.

But nothing could have prepared you for what lay at your feet.

Charlotte's lifeless eyes stared up at you, her face frozen in an expression of terror. Her greyed hair was matted with blood, splayed out around her head like a gruesome halo. The delicate fingers that had once knitted for hours on end now lay limp and useless at her sides.

You stumbled backward, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. Your knees buckled and you hit the ground hard, hands scrabbling in the ash and debris. Bile rose in your throat, your body shaking.

Charlotte, who had always greeted you with a warm smile and a kind word. Charlotte, who had nothing but patience and kindness for everyone. Charlotte, who had shared you with stories of her daughter.

Charlotte, who lay dead on the burning ground because of your absence.

“This is your fault.” Viktor had only ever been gentle with you, sweet beyond what you’d ever hoped for. Never had he spoken with such hate for you, his words cutting like daggers.

"You did this," Viktor snarled, finally turning to face you. His muted-rainbow eyes, once so warm and full of love, now burned with an icy fury that chilled you to your core. "Your cowardice, your weakness - it killed them all."

You shook your head frantically, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks. "No, please, I didn't mean to—"

"Didn't mean to what?" he cut you off, his voice razor-sharp. "Didn't mean to abandon us? Didn't mean to let your fear turn you into a liability?"

Each word was a dagger to your heart. You crawled towards him on your hands and knees, leaving smears in the ash and soot. "Viktor, please," you begged, your voice cracking. "I love you. I was trying to protect you!"

He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that bore no resemblance to the gentle sounds you’d once cherished. "Protect us? Look around you! This is what your 'protection' has wrought."

You reached for him, desperate to touch him, to make him understand. But your hand passed through him like smoke, and he dissipated before your eyes.

"No!" you screamed, clawing at the empty air where he had stood. "Come back! Please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

You collapsed into a sobbing heap, your body wracked with ugly, heaving cries. The stinging smoke filled your lungs, choking you, but you welcomed the pain. You deserved it. You deserved it all.

With a jarring jolt, you were ripped from unconsciousness and forced back into reality, gasping for air. As your vision cleared, your surroundings came into focus - a large, metal container with walls pressing in on all sides. The air was thick and oppressive, filled with the pungent scent of sweat and fear. Bodies were crammed together, the space feeling more and more suffocating by the second. You were among them, slumped against the wall like a discarded doll, your limbs limp and weakened.

The container swayed and you realized with a stomach-churning clarity that you were moving. To where, you didn't know. But as the faces of your fellow prisoners swam into focus - their eyes wide with terror and resignation - you understood that wherever you were going, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Your head throbbed, and you tasted blood in your mouth. The events in the square came rushing back - the speech, the attack, your loss of control. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing it all to be another nightmare. But the press of bodies around you and the ache in your bones told you this was all too real.

The container swayed, and nausea built. There were no windows, and the smell of sweaty bodies cramped together was not helping.

You pressed your palms against the cold metal wall, trying to ground yourself as panic scraped at your chest. The container lurched again, and bodies swayed around you like a human tide.

This couldn't be happening. You squeezed your eyes shut, your magic stirring within you, responding to your distress. The pink light of your Shimmer pulsed beneath your skin, growing brighter with each ragged breath. You clenched your fists, desperately trying to keep it contained. "Please," you whispered, "not now. Not here."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Your power surged, crackling along your arms like lightning. The people nearest to you flinched away, their eyes wide with terror. You wanted to reassure them, to tell them you meant no harm, but the words stuck in your throat.

You curled into yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from the storm brewing inside you.

A light, almost imperceptible tap on your elbow jolted you from your thoughts. You lifted your head slowly, trying to suppress the waves of nausea and panic that threatened to overtake you. Your eyes landed on a young girl, no older than ten, with vibrant blue hair tied back in small double braids. Her small helmet was askew on her head as she knelt before you, her amber eyes wide with curiosity. You frowned, recognizing her as the same girl from the rally.

Having caught your attention, she pointed at the sparks that swirled around your body, buzzing with agitation. Your frown deepened, eyeing her warily, but she only watched them move with such child-like wonder, unconcerned with the magic sparking over you. A knot of tension uncoiled from below your ribcage began unfurling, calmed by her innocent fascination. But your magic was still restless, and it surged, filling your lungs and crawling up your throat, begging to be released. Flinching, you exhaled deeply and squeezed your eyes shut until the pressure abated slightly - though never completely.

The girl pursed her lips, glancing around her like she could find the answers she needed in the pockets of the adults who were doing their best to stay away from you.

You watched, transfixed, as a wayward spark drifted from your fingertips, lazily floating through the stale air of the container. The girl's eyes widened, tracking its meandering path with rapt attention. As if in slow motion, the spark alighted on the very tip of her button nose.

She went cross-eyed, trying to keep the glowing spark in view, her face scrunching up in concentration. You giggled, small, though unexpected given your dire situation. The girl's eyes darted to yours, a mischievous glint sparkling within them.

Quick as lightning, her hands shot up, cupping around her nose. When she pulled them away, you saw the spark nestled in her palms, pulsing gently like a tiny, captured star. She carefully transferred it to a small, clear container hanging from a cord around her waist.

The spark bounced and ricocheted off the walls of its new prison, leaving trails of light in its tracks. The girl held it up to her eyes, peering inside with amazement written across her round features. For a moment, you forgot about the danger, lost in the simple joy of her fascination.

A prickling sensation at the back of your neck shattered the moment. You looked up, your eyes locking with Singed's cold, calculating gaze. He stood at the far end of the container, watching you with predatory interest.

Without thinking, you reached out and gently grasped the girl's sleeve, tugging her closer to your side.

"Hey," you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why don't you come sit over here with me?"

The girl looked up, startled by your sudden movement. Her eyes darted between you and Singed, confusion evident on her young face. You forced a smile, hoping it looked reassuring rather than terrified.

"I could use some company," you added, patting the space beside you. "And maybe you could tell me more about how you caught that spark?"

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, scooting over until she was pressed against your side. You positioned yourself so that your body shielded her from Singed's view, your magic humming protectively beneath your skin.

As the girl settled in, you kept one eye on Singed. He remained motionless, his expression unreadable behind his half-mask. But you could feel the weight of his stare, heavy and suffocating.

The container lurched, and you instinctively wrapped an arm around the girl to steady her. Your fingers tingled where they touched her shoulder, your magic reacting to the proximity of another person.

As the container lurched once more, this time coming to a sudden stop and throwing you and the girl forward. Your arm tightened around her as shouts echoed outside. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for what was to come.

The doors flew open with a deafening bang, flooding the dark space with harsh light. You squinted, eyes watering as enforcers swarmed in, their faces obscured by masks, voices muffled as they barked orders.

"Out! Everyone out, now!"

Bodies pressed forward, and you stumbled out onto the platform, shielding your eyes against the harsh glare. As your vision adjusted, you stilled. Looming before you was a monstrosity of stone and steel - Stillwater Prison. You’d seen pictures of it but they hadn’t done it any justice.

The fortress raised from the mist-shrouded waters, its walls a patchwork of weathered stone and gleaming metal. Towering smokestacks belched noxious fumes into the perpetually gray sky, casting long shadows across the choppy waves below. You craned your neck, taking in the full scope of the structure. It seemed to go on forever, a labyrinth of walkways, bridges, and guard towers stretching as far as the eye could see. Barbed wire coiled along the ramparts like venomous snakes, a warning to any who might consider escape.

The girl pressed closer to your side, her small hand finding yours and squeezing tight - to which you responded in kind.

Guards herded your group forward, their batons raised threateningly. You shuffled along, careful not to lose your footing on the slick metal gangway. The prison's entrance loomed before you - a gaping maw of darkness, ready to swallow you whole.

But pink light flared beneath your skin and sparks swirled around you, marking you as different, as a dangerous other. The guard nearest you recoiled, immediately raising his weapon.

"We've got a mage!" he shouted. "Containment team, now!"

Rough hands seized your arms, yanking you away from the girl. She clung to you desperately, her small fingers digging into your shirt. She whimpered, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering.

"It's okay," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's okay, I'll see you again soon. Be brave."

You gently pried her hands loose, even as your heart shattered. You couldn’t allow her to get hurt on your behalf. A guard pulled her away, her arms still reaching for you. You watched her disappear into the crowd, hoping that your promise would remain true.

"Move it, mage," an enforcer growled in your ear. “Use your magic and you’re dead.”

You were shoved forward, stumbling as they marched you away from the others. Your magic surged in response to your fear, crackling along your skin. If you let it free, you imagined you’d be able to fight back and escape. But without control, you weren’t sure that ‘fighting back’ wouldn’t mean eviscerating everyone in a twenty-mile radius, other prisoners included.

They led you to a small, circular chamber with glass walls and runes etched into the stone ceiling. How long had it been since they’d last used it?

As they forcefully shoved you through the threshold, the air grew heavy and oppressive, weighing down on every inch of your body. The door slammed shut behind you with a whoosh of hydraulics. Just as the last lock clicked shut, an excruciating pain shot through you, as if every piece of your soul was being crushed under a mountain of pressure. Your magic writhed and protested, struggling against the invisible restraints that forced it back inside you. It was like being suffocated from within, your spirit screaming in agony as it was forcibly contained.

You collapsed to your knees, the force of your cry ripping through your chest like a hurricane. Your body curled in on itself, trembling as waves of agony crashed over you.

Lying on the cold, unforgiving metal floor, every nerve ending alight with pain, Viktor's face swam before your eyes - his gentle smile, the warmth in his loving gaze. A sob caught in your throat. He had no idea where you were or what had happened to you. All he had was a shitty note written by a woman half out of her mind.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible even to your own ears. "I'm so sorry, Viktor."

This had to have been your stupidest idea yet.

You pictured him pacing the commune, worry carved into the lines of his face as he searched for any sign of you. Would he think you'd abandoned him? The thought made your chest constrict painfully. You hadn’t meant to, you had only wanted to find some way to halt your descent into madness. You could see the way it ate at him, that no matter what he tried he couldn’t break through the barrier your Shimmer-infused blood had placed.

The memory of his arms around you, his soft voice murmuring reassurances in your ear, felt like a cruel taunt now.

As another wave of pain washed over you, your mind drifted to the little girl with the blue hair. In your mind's eye, you saw her again - round eyes wide with wonder as she captured that errant spark of your magic. The image tugged at something in your memory, a half-forgotten conversation flickering to life.

Viktor's voice echoed in your mind, clear as if he were standing beside you: "These sparks, I wonder if there is more to them than we initially thought."

You gasped, could the answer to your problems have been buzzing around you this entire time? The girl had contained a spark, but perhaps…Were they more than just a manifestation of your magic, but rather a container waiting to be filled? If your magic had come from a Gemstone - sucked out like well-seasoned bone marrow - theoretically, there had to be some way to re-contain it, to focus it.

Could it really be so simple?

Your eyes snapped open, a new determination burning within you. You concentrated, gritting your teeth against the pain as you reached deep within yourself. Your magic responded sluggishly, fighting against the oppressive force of the chamber. But you pushed harder, drawing it up from the core of your being.

A tiny spark flickered to life in your palm, weak and wavering. You cupped it gently, pouring every ounce of focus into nurturing that fragile light. Sweat beaded on your brow as you willed more of your power into the spark, imagining it as a vessel, expanding to contain the torrent of magic within you.

The spark grew, pulsing with a vibrant blue glow. You felt a shift, a sudden lightness as your magic flowed into this new container. The pressure in your chest eased, the pain receding as more and more of your power transferred into the glowing orb.

Encouraged, you created another spark, then another. Soon, you had a small bushel of sparks hidden in your arms, each one a repository for your volatile energy. The runes on the walls flickered and sputtered, struggling to contain a power that was no longer there to be suppressed - at least, not inside a living being.

You staggered to your feet, ears ringing and vision blurry. But you felt lighter, freer than you had in weeks. The sparks orbited you like tiny planets, humming with barely contained energy. You took a deep breath, centring yourself as you prepared for what came next - drowning out the cries of warning from your captors.

With a fierce cry, you thrust your hands forward. The sparks shot towards the ceiling, each one detonating in a brilliant explosion of light and raw magical force. The runes shattered like glass, their pieces raining down in a glittering cascade.

The chamber's oppressive aura vanished in an instant. Your magic surged back into you, filling you with a wild, exhilarating power. The door buckled and warped and you stepped forward. With a single, focused blast, you blew the door off its hinges. Alarms blared as you emerged, but you didn't wait to let them aim their weapons. Siphoning your excess magic back into the sparks, you ran, using your magic to propel you at inhuman speeds.

Your feet barely seemed to touch the ground as you raced through the corridors of Stillwater. Alarms wailed all around you, red emergency lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. But you were faster, slipping past confused guards and panicked inmates like a ghost.

You took turns at random, relying on instinct and the pull of fresh air to guide you. Up staircases, across catwalks, through maintenance tunnels - you were a blur of motion.

Shouts echoed behind you, but they grew fainter with each passing second. You burst through a final set of doors and suddenly, you were outside. The misty air hit your lungs like a shock, but ultimately welcome. For a moment, you stood there, gulping in great lungfulls of the toxic atmosphere as if it were the sweetest perfume - freedom, at last.

But something wasn’t right. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed figures huddled against walls, cowering and staring in horror at the bodies littered about. Confusion washed over you. These weren’t enforcers or prison staff - they were ordinary Zaunites, the ones you’d arrived with. You looked around for the little girl, but she was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes darted frantically from face to face, searching for a glimpse of blue hair or the glint of a tiny spark-filled vial. A group of inmates huddled near a crumbling section of the wall, their faces twisted with hope and terror as they eyed their potential escape route.

You lurched towards them, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. You wanted to ask them if they’d seen the little girl, but before you could, a bone-chilling howl split the air. You turned, your blood running cold as a massive, bestial figure launched itself towards you.

The monster was huge, a hulking mass of muscle and matted fur. His lupine features contorted into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that glinted in the low light. Saliva dripped from his jaws, sizzling as it hit the ground. His eyes, a sickly yellow, burned with a primal hunger that had you feeling like a rabbit with its foot caught in a trap.

Massive claws, each as long as your forearm, extended from his powerful hands. The metal augmentations fused to his body caught the light, a grotesque marriage of flesh and machine. Tubes filled with a glowing red liquid pumped the substance directly into his veins.

Without thinking, you thrusted your hands outward. A shimmering barrier of magical energy erupted from your palms, expanding outward in a half-dome that encompassed you and the nearest group of people. The beast slammed into the shield with bone-jarring force, his claws screeching against the magical surface.

The impact sent tremors through your body, but you gritted your teeth and held firm. He snarled, his yellow eyes locking onto yours, filled with a terrifying intelligence that belied his bestial form.

"Run!" you shouted to those huddled behind your shield. "Get to safety!"

They didn’t need to be told twice, and they left as quickly as their feet could take them, heading for the shelter of a prison transport container. As the beast hurled himself at the barrier again and again, you felt the burning strain of maintaining the shield. Sweat beaded on your brow, your arms trembling with the effort. But you couldn’t let go - not yet, not while there were still people scrambling to safety.

Each impact from the beast rattled your teeth and threatened to buckle your knees. Sweat poured down your face, stinging your eyes as you struggled to keep the barrier intact.

The magical dome flickered, its once-vibrant surface now dim and wavering. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, spreading with each thunderous blow. Your breath came in ragged gasps, lungs heaving as if you'd sprinted for miles. A coppery taste filled your mouth, your nose trickling blood from the immense effort.

You couldn't hold out much longer. The beast's yellow eyes gleamed with triumph, sensing your weakness. He reared back, muscles bunching beneath his matted fur as he prepared for one final, devastating assault.

But, he froze, his ears perking up, his massive head swivelling towards the main entrance. He sniffed the air, nostrils flaring. In a split second, he had turned and bounded away, disappearing into the mists of Stillwater with surprising speed for a creature of his size.

The shield collapsed as you fell to your knees, gasping for breath. For a moment, you could only kneel there, your limbs felt like lead, your entire body shaking from exhaustion.

A distant shout snapped you back to reality. You scrambled to your feet, muscles protesting as you forced yourself into motion. Following the fleeing inmates, you stumbled toward the container that had already been pushed off the platform.

Your eyes darted frantically among the crowd, searching for a glimpse of blue hair or a small figure. But there was no sign of the little girl. You told yourself she must have already escaped and that she was safe on the mainland. The alternative was too painful to consider.

You jumped over the distance, barely reaching the open door, but you managed to hold on with the last of your strength and pulled yourself inside.

You slumped against the cold metal wall of the container, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. The container swayed and lurched as it made its way across the windy expanse, each motion sending fresh waves of pain through your battered body. But beneath the physical discomfort, a newfound sense of control burbled within you.

The sparks of your magic danced lazily around your fingertips, responding to your will with a fluidity you'd never experienced before. For the first time, your power felt like an extension of yourself rather than a wild, unpredictable force.

Time seemed to blur as the container continued its journey. The low murmur of voices around you faded into white noise. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic motion lull you into semi-consciousness.

A sudden jolt snapped you back to reality. The container had arrived, its doors creaking open to reveal the docking station. People pushed and shoved, desperate to escape the confines of their metal prison. You tumbled out with them, blinking owlishly in the dim light of the Undercity. The crowd scattered like startled birds, each person darting off in search of shelter or escape.

With a deep breath, you set off towards the commune. It didn’t take long for you to reach the outskirts, your magic guiding you home, relief and anxiety swirling in your gut. The familiar sights and smells of home beckoned you forward, even as worry gnawed at the edges of your mind. How would Viktor react? Would he be angry? Disappointed? The thought of facing his potential rejection made your steps falter.

What if Viktor wasn't there? What if he was gone, searching for you and thinking you'd left him? Or worse, what if he was there, but couldn’t forgive you for leaving? The thought of his iridescent eyes being cold with disappointment, made your stomach churn.

No, you told yourself. Viktor wouldn’t do that, you couldn’t allow your anxieties to colour your views of him. He loved you, and while he may be upset that you’d left, he would not forsake you. Of that, you were certain.

Next Chapter

A/N: Isha saw the pink eyes and jitteriness and went: …you are mom-shaped?

I hope you enjoyed the action! How do you think Viktor will respond?

I’d love to hear what you think so far!

#angst with a happy ending #fluff #viktor #viktor pov #viktor x you #viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #machine herald viktor #heimerdinger #Ekko #firelights #visions #mage #magic #hurt/comfort

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acewritesfics · 1 year ago

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Past Love: Part 03 | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: From anon

Fic Type: Blurb

Prompt: "I’m happiest when I’m with you." & “You feel like home to me.”

Warnings: It does allude to smut. Also alludes to cheating which I don't condone.

Word Count: 589

PART 01 | PART 02

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST

As Y/N drives away from the pub, it starts to pour with rain. Near the end of the street, she pulls over unable to see clearly through the rain and her own tears. Unable to bring herself to leave, she thinks back to the last time she was truly happy.

It was the last time she was with Tommy. He surprised her, turning up on her doorstep three nights before he was to marry Grace, who Tommy had successfully distracted her from thinking about over the two days he was with her. They had spent most of the time in bed wrapped up in one another. It felt like it had before the war had turned their lives and relationship upside down.

“You stupid fool. You love him,” she cries talking about herself. Feeling angry at herself, she thinks about what could have been if she had just been a little selfish and didn’t put everyone else ahead of herself.

Now was the time to put not only her wants and needs but also Tommy’s above the others. Stepping out of her vehicle, she starts making her way back to the Garrison. By the time she reaches the doorstep she’s soaked head to toe from the rain.

As she goes to reach for the door handle the door swings open revealing Tommy who looks stunned to see her standing there.

"I’m happiest when I’m with you," she begins to tell him, her tears mixing with the rain drops. “For so long I have been putting every other woman first, not listening to what I want or what you want, and I can’t do it anymore,” she pauses to take a breath. “I love you; I need you and, I wa-”

She’s cut off by Tommy’s lips crashing to hers, kissing her with all the love he feels for her as he pulls her close to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she holds him as tight as she can as the kiss becomes sloppy. She’s afraid if she lets go and if she opens her eyes and ends the kiss, that he’ll disappear, her mind having played a cruel joke on her.

Tommy eventually breaks the kiss and lets her go long enough to open the door back up and pull her back inside, locking it. Within a matter of seconds his lips are on hers again, deepening the already heated kiss.

Sitting on his lap facing him, wrapped in his arms as both catch their breath and ease their racing hearts, with the musky smell of sex lingering around them, Y/N runs her fingers along his forehead, moving his hear out of his face so she can see those beautiful blue eyes she loves so much. “I need to go find me a room for the night and you need to go home and talk to Lizzy. I won’t be the other woman.”

“You’ve never been the other woman,” he assures her. “They were just a means to try and get over you.”

“You still need to go home,” she says going to move off his lap, only for him to pull her back down on it.

“You feel like home to me,” he says as he moves his hand to the back of her neck and massages it a little. “You are my home. Let me have tonight with you and I’ll talk to Lizzy in the morning.”

Against her better judgement, which was long gone by now, she nods and leans in, kissing him again.

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - @star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world

Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Here's a post I found that could help if your not able to be tagged: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG

Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. Tags have been weird lately. I might start putting the tags in the comments. Let me know if you get the notification.

#acewritesfics repost #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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roseghoul26 · 8 months ago

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Chapter 10: But It's Been Promised To Another

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: for once i've got nothing to say. hope you enjoy! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz Chapter List

For the first time during your entire marriage, you were excited for Hans to return home.

Not because you wanted to see him but because it meant that you were one step closer to seeing Arthur at the party. Your back ached from sleeping on the couch as you reached for the now-dry bedding on the line, a hole in your heart that grew each time Arthur left.

As you walked back into the house with an armful of laundry, you heard the unmistakable noise of wheels rolling over the dirt path. Excitement bubbled through you, and you ran inside and up the stairs. You got to work quickly, refitting the bed with its sheets, pretending to act surprised when you heard Hans knock lightly at the bedroom door.

Spinning around, you were nearly caught off guard by how disheveled he looked, as if he had run his hands through his hair countless times on the ride home. You don’t think you’d ever seen him like this, and the fake smile you’d plastered on fell. “Hans?” You asked cautiously, honestly a bit concerned. “Everything alright?”

His mouth formed the words, but no noise came out. Instead, he just sighed, an even faker smile than yours appearing beneath his beard. “I’m fine,” was all he said before backing up, no doubt retreating to his office. “Just… work. Nothing you need to bother yourself with.”

“But-” You didn’t even get a word out before he disappeared from the doorway. You heard the sound of keys rattling as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket, and you turned back to your work.

A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt, listening intently for your husband. You remember that the office was unlocked, having no way to lock it after you and Arthur’s exploration. And when you heard the keys stop jingling, you knew he noticed it, too. He always locked his office, even after two years together.

You waited with bated breath, expecting to hear heavy footsteps return to the bedroom. Your relief was immeasurable when he just continued into the office, hearing the door click as it shut instead. You were in the clear for now.

During the rest of the time in the bedroom, you expected Hans to appear at any second, angrily shouting at you. But as the minutes crawled by and you were only met with the sounds of fabric rustling, you relaxed.

Eventually, the bed was back to its original shape, and you left the room, passing Hans’ office as you headed downstairs. Much to your pleasure, the rest of the day was spent in solitude, but Hans did finally leave his office for dinner.

You had no idea how to approach asking him about the party, never having asked him before. You stared holes into your plate until you gathered enough courage to speak. “Are we going to Mr. Bronte’s party tomorrow?”

Hans stopped mid-bite, taken aback by your question. “I know you just got home,” you stammered, “but I would like to go. If that’s alright?”

When a minute passed with just silence, you mentally chastised yourself. But you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when he finally spoke. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go,” he murmured. “Is it tomorrow?”

“I know it’s a quick turnaround-”

“We’re going.” He cut you off. “There’s some people I need to talk to, anyway.”

You hoped you didn’t look too relieved. “Thank you.”

He merely waved your words off, going straight back to his food.

The following twenty-four hours went by incredibly slowly, making you fidgety. But eventually, night came around, and you eagerly got dressed. The marks on your body were still very evident, so you went with a high-neck party dress, a dusty blush color, with skirts that ended at your ankles. Slipping on matching gloves and shoes, you decided to keep your hair down in case the dress didn’t cover everything.

The carriage ride there was, as always, awkward and tense. You fidgeted with your silk gloves, having to expel your excitement somehow. You had no idea if Arthur was actually going to be here tonight, but you certainly hoped.

After a tortuous thirty minutes, the carriage finally halted in front of a grand house on the outskirts of Saint Denis, a home you’d come to know quite well over the past two years. You flashed a practiced smile to the gentleman who opened the carriage door, taking his hand as he helped you out. Hans got out on the other side, meeting you as you stood at the entrance, saying a small thank-you to the man who helped you.

After being asked for any weapons, Hans extended an arm to you, which you took, linking your arms together. He nodded to the servants before walking up the stairs, you by his side. Even you had to admit that the two of you looked like the definition of high-class, regal even. With your well-crafted dress and his well-fitted tuxedo, the two of you certainly made a sight. If you weren’t already so well-known, you were confident you’d be the talk of the town now if the various heads that turned towards you as you entered the party told you anything.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart and pulled up the mask you’d created over the past two years. The two of you had barely gotten down the stairs of the porch before people were talking to you. Well, to Hans, more specifically. They treated you like an accessory, and you couldn’t be more glad now. You had no desire to talk to these people with their fake niceties and shallow words. You only wanted to speak to one person right now, and you scanned the crowd for his rugged face.

You prayed that you didn’t look too disappointed when your search bore no results and focused your attention on the conversation before you. You merely caught snip-its, something about the tobacco fields of the Braithwaites. You didn’t really care, though, so you let yourself zone out.

The first hour of the party went similarly, accompanying Hans as he talked to other men. Occasionally, someone would extend a compliment your way, and you’d bat your lashes and thank them, but that would be it. They wouldn’t ask about your opinion on the matter they were discussing or if you had any advice or comments. Additionally, not one person asked you how you were doing, so you drowned your loneliness in glasses of very delicious champagne.

And when this hour went by, and you didn’t see Arthur, or any of the Van Der Linde gang for that matter, you were kicking yourself for being so eager to go to the party. It was exhausting, participating in an environment that treated you like you didn’t exist, a mere accessory for your husband.

Your disappointment ceased to exist, though, when a familiar silver-haired man passed you, shooting you a double-take as he did. A small smile graced his lips, and he nodded politely at you, which you returned. A larger, brown-haired man accompanied him and nodded to you as well. Hans was too caught up in his current conversation to notice, and after you leaned and whispered that you would be right back, you untangled your arm from his and made your way to the duo.

“Enjoying the party, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You heard Hosea ask, bowing his head slightly.

“With the current company, yes,” you chuckled. “How are you, Hosea?”

“Irritated because I have to spend my night with these buffoons,” he muttered so only you could hear. “No offense to you, miss.”

“None taken. And you, Bill? Are you well?”

If he was surprised you remembered who he was, he didn’t show. “Can’t say I disagree with Hosea.”

“Me neither. If I’ve gotta be in one more conversation where people act like I don’t exist, I’m gonna lose it,” you sighed. “But that’s a far more difficult issue to resolve. What brings you to party tonight, gentlemen?”

At this point, Bill excused himself from the conversation, nodding politely before entering the crowd. “Dutch wants us to scope out some jobs while getting into the pocket of Angelo Bronte.”

“You’ve got quite the task before you, then.” Hosea shook his head. “I take it you don’t like it?”

“Nothing good comes from getting close to authority. You don’t need me to tell you that. From what I’ve heard, you know much about our recent relationships with certain figures.” An image of Leigh Gray flashed in your mind, and you nodded.

“But that’s enough talk like that for tonight. You don’t have to trouble yourself with our matters, but we do appreciate it. Besides, there’s been a certain someone who’s been looking for you since the moment we arrived.” Hosea’s eyes flicked to something above and behind you with a knowing expression.

Containing your eagerness, you turned, following the direction of his gaze. You couldn’t help your grin as your gaze landed on the porch. Standing by each other, deep in conversation, was Dutch and Bronte, cigars dangling from their lips as they spoke. And beside them, an almost outsider in the conversation, much like you’d been the entire night, was Arthur Morgan.

His attention was very clearly far from the conversation, as his blue eyes were firmly planted on you, and even from this distance, you could see his smile, slightly obscured by a cigar. He looked even better than you imagined in a tux, black material clinging to his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Before you began to stare, you tore your gaze away, ignoring the heat on your cheeks.

“How’re things with my husband,” you muttered, leaning into Hosea so only he could hear your words.

“We’ve been meaning to talk to him,” Hosea admitted.

“Well, let me introduce you.” Straightening, you cast one final glance at Arthur as you wove between the crowds, Hosea hot on your heels. Arthur leaned over to murmur something to Dutch, but his eyes still never left you, even as Hosea gestured to him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d bewitched him,” Hosea teased, making you laugh.

“It certainly does feel that way, doesn’t it?” You laughed back, sobering when you saw Hans out of the corner of your eye. He was still deep in conversation, and you shot Hosea an apologetic look as you returned to your spot on Hans’ arm. You now had your back to Arthur, but you could still feel his gaze.

Hans only talked for a few moments before his acquaintances dispersed. “Dear, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” you murmured, angling your head to Hosea. Like a flipped switch, Hosea dropped the casual attitude he’d had with you and had switched to one of pure professionalism and suaveness. You knew he had a silver tongue, but it was astounding to see it in action.

“Hosea Matthews, how do you do, sir?” Hosea extended a hand, which your husband shook eagerly.

“A pleasure, Mr. Matthews. The name’s Hans Kerrigan and it appears you’ve already met my wife,” he glanced down at you momentarily.

You shot Hosea a tight-lipped smile, and you shook his hand as well. Hosea went straight into business, talking about how he was the head of some new security agency in New Austin, something you knew damn well didn’t exist. But Hans was falling into his trap, which made you nearly laugh. Hans seemed almost to light up when Hosea mentioned security, so you knew the first part of their plan had succeeded. So that’s why he had come home looking so stressed: they had wreaked havoc on his business.

The two men continued to talk for a long while, and you fought the urge to look behind you, knowing once you did, you wouldn’t be able to look away. Hosea’s eyes flicked behind you and Hans before raising his brows at you with a ghost of a smirk. “Here, let me introduce you to two of my compatriots.”

You bit your lips to stop a smile as Dutch and Arthur slid in beside Hosea. Recognition flashed across Hans’ features as he looked at the two new men. “I believe we’ve already had the pleasure. You’re the deputies from Rhodes, right?”

Dutch shot you a look, and you mouthed he doesn’t know back, and your words relieved the black-haired man. “That’s right, Mr. Kerrigan.”

“Good evening, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you greeted him warmly as Hans shook his hand before turning to Arthur. God, keeping your composure was so much more challenging than you thought it would be as you finally looked at him. There he was, the man who had stolen your heart, who had seen you at your most vulnerable, and you had to act like you didn’t want to jump into his arms right there. “It’s Mr. Marston, right?”

Hosea coughed, a poorly hidden chuckle, and even Dutch had to look away before he burst into a laugh. Biting your cheek, you watched Arthur almost look offended, shaking his head slightly. “It’s Morgan, ma’am,” he muttered, extending a hand to you.

“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Morgan,” you gasped while shaking his hand. Barely contained desire flashed across his face as his hand encompassed yours, a hefty sigh moving his chest. You pulled away before the handshake became too long, your hand returning to rest by your side. Arthur simply nodded, stepping back until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Hosea, letting the conversation continue.

As the four men spoke, you found yourself unable to resist the urge any longer, and you let your eyes wander to him. Every time you did, his attention would focus on you, even if he was in the middle of talking. Hans was none the wiser, chatting with the men as if they were long-lost friends.

You found yourself bored, and some part of you wanted to see how far you could push Arthur in public. It started subtly, letting your eyes trail over his body shamelessly, unseen by the other conversation members. Arthur caught it, though, and every time you did it, you watched his body stiffen.

It grew less subtle, running your hands along your neck, both of you knowing what lay beneath the cloth covering it. A slight wince of pain left you as you rubbed a particularly sore spot, and Arthur quickly hid his balled-up hands behind his back, rocking on his heels slowly.

Grabbing a flute of champagne, you took a sip, letting out a content noise as the bubbly drink hit your mouth. When you pulled the glass down, a droplet spilled over the edge, and it began to run down the side of the glass. Without thinking, you ran your tongue along the glass, collecting the droplet before it hit your hand. It had been a complete accident, but even so, it finally broke Arthur.

Arthur muttered something to Hosea before breaking away from the group, an unspoken command in his eyes as he walked away. As he passed, you could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, but he refrained. Subtle glancing over your shoulder, you watched Arthur climb the porch stairs, disappearing into Bronte’s house.

You waited a few moments before excusing yourself and taking a different path to the house, discarding the glass along the way. It was easy to slip away, to be unnoticed by the crowds, and sneak along the high hedge bushes; eventually, you made your way inside. It was staggeringly quieter in the house, the party chatter now silenced, and all you could hear was the click of your heels and quickened breaths.

You luckily met with no servants as you glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Arthur went. Walking further in, you ended up on one of the hallways, doors lining each side. You didn’t pay them much mind, but you wished you did when you felt yourself dragged into one, a large hand grasping your wrist.

Your cry of alarm was muffled by a palm over your mouth, and you nearly bit down until you heard Arthur's drawl. Pressed up against your back, you felt him lean down to your ear, making you shiver. “Were you noticed?” He asked, his voice quiet.

Unable to speak still, you shook your head. “Good,” he muttered before he spun you around to face him. Lips replaced his palm, the force of the kiss nearly baking you up against the door. Your gloved hands tangled in his hair, meeting the desperation of the kiss, pulling him as close as you could to his body.

“God, I need ya,” you heard him groan.

“You’ve got me, Arthur.”

“We’ve gotta be quick, darlin’.” You felt his hands run down your body, grasping the backs of your thighs. It took little urging from you to wrap your legs around his body, and he carried you further into the room. You had no idea what kind of room you were in, as the curtains had been drawn shut, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. But dust tickled your nose, and you knew you probably wouldn’t expect anyone to come in soon.

Still, Arthur was able to navigate the room with ease, and you felt him ease you back down onto a wooden surface. Papers pressed against your back, and you realized you were in an office of sorts, and Arthur had just laid you down on a desk. “D’you know how hard it’s been to keep my eyes off you tonight?” Arthur asked, making you laugh softly.

“I didn’t think you were tryin’,” you joked.

“It’s hard to when I just wanna rip this dress off of ya.” Hands braced on either side of your head, and even though you couldn’t see, you knew his face was inches from yours. “And then you decide to tease me. It took everythin’ in me not to take ya right there,” his voice had turned into a growl.

“Arthur-”

“Roll over.” His weight left your body, and you heard the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. Your head spun as excitement and arousal made your body buzz, and you were almost grateful for the dark so that Arthur couldn’t see how eagerly you complied.

Your feet were barely on the ground as you rested your upper body on the desk, your forearms holding you up. Your breath caught when you felt the skirt of your dress lift, the material ticking your skin as it brushed against it. Arthur had the skirt in a fist at your hip, his other hand trailing over your ass, running his fingers along the edge of your undergarments. “You’ve gotta look so beautiful, bent over like this,” he whispered in the dark.

“We’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh, gladly.”

Cold air hit your center as Arthur tugged the garment down, letting it pool at your ankles. You knew neither had time to build things up, but you were still surprised when you felt him press into you. You must’ve made some noise as he eased in, as one of his hands wrapped around to cover your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, darlin’,” he whispered, a slight strain in his voice.

You nodded, stifling your noises as best you could. You were thankful that Arthur kept his hand over your mouth, as you doubted you’d be able to continue to stifle them for long.

When Arthur’s hips became flush with yours, you both sighed softly, the stretch of him a familiar ache. He leaned forward, and you felt the lightest kiss placed between your clothed shoulders. That was all the warning you got before he was setting a viscous pace, the buckle of his belt hitting your skin with every snap of his hips. Muffled noises spilled from behind Arthur’s hand, a mix of praises and moans and his name.

You were thankful that the desk he currently had you bent over was sturdy, the soft groan of wood instead of loud creaks, and it remained in its place as he moved. Even through the silk gloves, your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you tried and failed to make as little noise as possible. It proved to be an impossible task with how desperately he was fucking you, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You could do nothing but let your eyes flutter close as pleasure caressed your body, and you could feel your eventual release begin to grow.

The sound of laughter outside made your eyes shoot open, and in a moment of panic, you tried to get up. Arthur was having none of it, and he used his body weight to keep you pinned to the desk. “Now ya really gotta be quiet,” his voice came out breathy, unfaltering in his movements. “Unless ya want everyone to see you like this.”

You’re not sure why you reacted the way you did, but the idea made you shudder, and Arthur felt it in more ways than one. “Oh, you’d like that?” He asked, a hint of disbelief in his words. Your cheeks burned, shame and embarrassment and excitement making your body warm. “You want everyone to see the respectable Mrs. Kerrigan bent over a desk, fallin’ apart just for me?” You barely heard his words, but you found yourself nodding anyway. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s a sight only I get to see.”

Current circumstances notwithstanding, you would’ve commented that he couldn’t see you right now. But your comment faded in your mind as soon as it came, and you just sighed against his palm.

Thankfully, the sound of laughter and voices receded, and in the back of your mind, you felt relief. But you hardly recognized it, especially when you felt his hand sneak between your thighs and begin to rub at your clit. The movement of his fingers, just like his hips, was quick and hurried, and you found yourself rapidly approaching your release.

Praises spilled from his lips and into your ear, which was all you needed to reach your end. Your knees buckled as you came, your entire body being held up by the desk as pleasure washed over you. Your head spun, both from your release and the lack of oxygen, and Arthur seemed to realize this as you felt him pull his hand away. As quietly as you could, you sucked in air as Arthur chased his own release, fingers digging into his hips.

Even though you were drunk on lust, you knew the implications of your following words as you uttered them. “Inside, Arthur,” you gasped, voice scratchy. His pace faltered, and you knew that he heard you. “I wanna feel you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, fuck…” You felt his head rest between your shoulders, and you felt his warm breath through the material of your dress. You didn’t have to see him to know he was biting down harshly on his lip to keep himself quiet, but a small groan did leave him as he came. Warmth spread through your lower body, making you gasp quietly.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before easing off and out of you. You had no idea where he went, so you jumped when you felt his fingers brushing up your legs, securing your undergarments back on your body. He rubbed your back as he brought your skirt back down, almost like he was thanking you.

Using the desk for support, you turned around, making a small noise when you felt his release spill from you. Hands grasped your waist, and you were being tugged into a surprisingly gentle kiss from Arthur. Your arms went around his neck, holding him close.

“I missed you,” you heard him murmur when he pulled away, head resting against yours.

“I missed you too.” It felt too simple of a response to encompass just how deeply you did miss him, but it would have to do.

“You look beautiful tonight.” You smiled at the sincerity in his voice.

“You clean up well yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“I thought it was Mr. Marston.” He still sounded irked by your comment, which made you laugh.

“You have to admit, it was kind of funny.”

“Dutch and Hosea certainly seemed to think so.”

You hummed. “They seemed to be goin’ a good job buttering up Hans.”

He scoffed. “They didn’t have to try that hard. He’s almost a bit too eager.”

“D’you think he knows?”

“Doubt it. He’s desperate, and we just offered him the perfect solution.”

“I’m glad everything’s working out, then.”

“We’ve got some good scores lined up, too. We’re plannin’ on hittin’ the bank in town soon,” you fought back the dread that made you feel, “which should hopefully give us enough money to get the law off us and to… to start a new life.” Arthur sighed, and he seemed nervous. “Darlin’, would-”

A loud booming sound rocked the room, making you both jump apart. Bright flashes of color poured in from between the curtains, and you laughed in relief. “Fireworks,” you murmured, a bit amazed by the vibrant colors.

The flashes of light allowed you to see Arthur a bit, and he deflated a bit. “We should probably get back to the party.”

You frowned. “Already?”

“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the night here, every minute of you bein’ gone raises suspicion.”

You hated how right he was. “Fine,” you sighed, your frown deepening when Arthur stepped away, your hands falling to your sides. But it seemed that he, too, couldn’t be away for long because you felt him grab one of your hands as he led you to the door, thumb tracing mindless patterns into your skin. Loud booms continued to rattle the building, and as you stepped outside, you heard the excitement from the crowds.

When Arthur opened it, the beam of light that hit your eyes made you squint, and you watched as he made sure the hallway was clear before leading you out. He dropped your hand, not before pressing a kiss to the back of it, and he turned to face you. You had to bite back a laugh when you saw the disarray his hair was in, and you ushered him to bend down. Your gloves just created static, and fixing it took more effort than it should have. His eyes never left yours as you worked, a soft smile tugging his lips, which you returned.

“There you go,” you murmured. “Perfect, as always.”

A light dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks as he stood upright. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“How do I look?”

Blue eyes roamed your body, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. “Words can’t do it justice, darlin’.” That certainly wasn’t what you asked, but you weren’t complaining. Not when he stared at you like you were Venus in the flesh, and you ducked your head. “But you look… put together.”

You certainly didn’t feel put together, but you trusted Arthur’s word. “You were sayin’ somethin’ earlier, before the fireworks.”

“It ain’t important,” Arthur quickly deflected, and you frowned, not liking that he was keeping something from you. “But that reminds me…” You watched Arthur reach inside his jacket, pulling out a small envelope. “A letter arrived for ya yesterday.”

“Is… is it from-”

“It is.” A fond smile appeared on his face at the sheer delight you radiated, and you took the letter he presented to you with shaky hands. Your name was written across the front in your mother's handwriting, and you chuckled in disbelief.

You caught Arthur off guard when you nearly tackled him in a hug, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. Cautiously, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, you felt his hand settle on your back, the other holding the back of your head, cradling you to his body. “Thank you, Arthur,” you murmured, your words muffled by his suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, you smelled tobacco and gunpowder. It seemed no amount of dolling up could change that.

“You don’t gotta thank me.”

You ignored him. “I owe you for this.”

Footsteps echoed across the room, forcing you two to pull apart. Even though every part of you screamed to rip the letter open, you knew you weren’t in the suitable space to do it. Carefully, you folded the letter, which was already relatively small, to begin with, and you tucked it into the palm of your glove, hidden away for now. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

There was a respectable amount of space between your bodies now, and you hated it. You both tensed as the footsteps grew closer, and you both flashed polite smiles to the guests who passed. They didn’t seem to recognize you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “We… we should probably head back to the party.”

Arthur hesitantly nodded. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of here. I’ll meet ya out there.”

“Up to no good, are we?”

His responding smirk said all you needed to know. “Go before someone comes lookin’.” Shaking your head lightly, you shot him one last smile before walking past him. You weren’t surprised when you felt him grab your hand, rolling your eyes affectionately.

“Arthur…” Your words were cut off when he brought your hand up to his lips, the pure adoration in his eyes making you gasp. When he placed three kisses in rapid succession on your knuckles, it took every ounce of willpower not to drag him back into that room. You both knew what he meant by those three kisses, something he had yet to say. But it was a start.

Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped your hand and took a few steps back, creating a sense of finality in the conversation. “I’ll see ya out there, darlin’.”

“You better,” you muttered before backing up, not wanting to turn away from him just yet. But as you turned out of the hallway, you lost sight of him, so you faced forward. Walking back to the party alone, you blushed when you felt the remnants of him between your legs, reminding you of what had just transpired.

No one looked as you descended the porch stairs, everyone too distracted by the fireworks show. You were easily able to sneak back to your spot next to Hans, who, too, was also transfixed by the show. He merely nodded your way when you linked your arms, apparently not even fazed by your disappearance.

Hosea and Dutch were still standing by Hans; their backs turned as they watched the show. You watched as the older man leaned into the other, whispering something to him. You could not distinguish what he said, but Dutch laughed, clapping Hosea on the back.

The show lasted about five more minutes, and even though the sight was incredible, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it. How could you, when Arthur occupied every corner of your mind? How could you, when the letter in your glove burned your skin?

The man plaguing your thoughts returned shortly after, and the disbelieving look that Hosea gave him made you nearly laugh. When Arthur stood by his side, he also leaned into him, and even though you couldn’t see Arthur’s face, you knew he was either blushing or scoffing based on how he shook his head.

Hans right returned to business mode, wrapping up the discussion with Dutch and Hosea. You’re not sure how much time passed as you spaced out a bit, but suddenly, the two men were wishing you a good night. “Have a good night, gentlemen,” you nodded to them before directing your attention to Arthur. “You as well, Mr. Morgan.”

Your eyes followed the group until they were long gone, fighting the hitch in your breath when Arthur glanced over his shoulder right at the last moment. The longing was evident on his face, but it was broken when Bill made some comment, and you figured that the other three men were laughing at Arthur’s expense.

You and Hans stayed at the party until late in the night, when exhaustion pulled at your already aching muscles, and your feet felt like lead in your shoes. You nearly sagged in relief when Hans led you to the front of the house, calling for your carriage.

You almost immediately excused yourself to the bedroom when you got home, nearly running into the attached bathroom and locking the door. The idea of washing up was the last thing on your mind as you tore off your glove, the letter falling into the sink as you did. Some ink from the envelope had stained your skin, but you didn’t care.

The sound of paper ripping filled the room. Your hands were sweaty as you held the letter up, and tears formed in your eyes as you read the words in your mother’s handwriting.

My beautiful daughter,

You have no idea how happy it makes my heart to hear from you. The house has become joyless without you in it. How I long to hear your laughter fill it.

I must admit, I never expected to hear from you again, but how glad I am that my expectations were wrong. After you ran off, I thought we’d never hear from you again. But it seems you’ve done well for yourself. Seeing a different last name was a bit of a shock, but how glad I am that you’ve found someone to marry! All I hope is that they treat you well and that you’re happy.

I must stop by and see you! Perhaps bring a few of your siblings. Oh, how they have missed you! Do let your husband know to expect a visit from us soon!

Much love,

Irene

Happiness quickly wore off as the contents of the second paragraph hit you. Confusion made your brow furrow, and you grasped the counter edge for stability. She thought you ran off? Did your father not tell anyone about the marriage he had set up for you? Why was he lying to the rest of your family?

But then another realization hit you, one that made the tears in your eyes finally fall. You were going to see your family again.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut

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iamleesi · 3 months ago

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: Crowley brings you… somewhere

Warnings: Mention of demoniac things, few demons here and there, mention of torture and some creepy (but not much) stuff. -> 18+!!

Other: I hope someone still remembers this but I’ve been busy lately so yeah. At this point there are only a few chapters left before the story ends, so enjoy. Also I think this is one of my favorite chapters of this fic so far.

-> Masterlist

-> Part fourteen ; part sixteen

-> Ready To Comply (15)

"Who ordered you to kill me?" You asked, managing to keep your voice steady and firm even though, inside, you didn't even know what you were feeling.

Dean hesitated before giving you an answer. "Fury."

Your heart sank down into the depth of your stomach at that revelation. It had been a decade since you first encountered Fury, and in that time, he had been the sole person capable of breaking through your defenses in order for you to start the healing process you didn’t even know you needed. Despite his usually cold demeanor, you saw him as a mentor and, if we want to be completely honest, even as some sort of father figure.

To discover now how he had ordered Dean Winchester to eliminate you, for reasons you still didn’t know, left you reeling. You couldn’t fathom why, considering you posed no threat to society or anyone else for that matter, you were an Avenger - and you became one because he wanted to, even. So the situation was even more absurd.

Amidst the shock, your gaze locked onto Natasha, who was as close to Fury as you were. “Nat?” You questioned, looking for an answer in her eyes.

“I didn’t know.” She responded immediately, her tone sincere. Her shock mirrored your own, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of doubt that gnawed at your mind.

If it wasn’t for Bucky’s tight grip on your hand that, somehow, managed to bring you some sort of comfort, you would have probably lost your temper not long ago. You turned your attention back to Dean. “Why did he send you?”

But before Dean could reply, Crowley interjected, his smirk was an evident sign that he was enjoying the chaos he caused. “Why listen to another word he has to say if I can simply show you?” He proposed.

“No.” Sam said firmly, shooting a lethal death glare in Crowley’s direction. “Emma, this is not what you think. You can’t let him play with your mind, we’re not the enemies here.”

You clenched your jaw at Sam’s words, and you would have believed him in other circumstances. But you wanted one thing, and the only one who could concretely tell you something was Crowley. “Show me.” You said, capturing everyone’s attention. You tried to free your hand from Bucky’s grip, but he tightened it even more.

“Gladly.” Crowley chuckled, his amusement evident as he winked at Dean before he snapped his fingers.

Bucky’s grip tightened again on empty air this time, as he stared in disbelief at the spot where you stood only moments ago. Natasha and Cassandra mirrored his shock on their faces, but the other three men looked defeated.

“Where did they go?” Bucky demanded, scanning the room for any trace of you, struggling to comprehend your sudden disappearance with a mere snap of fingers.

You, on the other hand, stumbled nearly falling gracelessly on the ground as reality seemed to shift around you. The familiar living room melted away in an instant, replaced by what looked like some kind of cavernous throne room, some of the darkness was offset by the warm glow of countless flickering candles.

The single window, positioned right below the ceiling, illuminated the imposing throne situated right in the middle of the room. The throne itself was carved from black stone and the sculptures on it were nothing more than what you believed were demoniac faces that seemed to move under the flickering lights.

The stench of sulfur lingered in the air, but for some reason that didn’t bother you as it should probably have. After you took your sweet seconds to look around you, you finally noticed you weren’t alone; in the shadows, stood humans figures with pitch black eyes. Their soulless eyes were fixed on you, but they didn’t seem ready to attack, instead they were simply studying you.

Crowley sauntered over to his throne, and seated himself with a smug, satisfied grin. The people, whom you assumed were demons, parted respectfully as he gestured for them to leave, and you two were left alone in his territory now. Perhaps you didn’t really have the smartest idea.

“Who are you again?” You asked.

“Crowley, the King of Hell. Forgive me for the mess, I didn’t expect to have guests today.” He chuckled, and only then did you notice the skeletal remains of more that one person scattered around at the front of the throne’s stairs.

“And what are we doing here?” You asked, meeting Crowley’s gaze. “I asked you to show me why Fury wanted me dead. This doesn’t give me much of an explanation.”

Crowley huffed impatiently. “I will.” He conceded with a nod. “In time. It’s a long story, and I don’t provide services for free.”

“I’ve already declined your ‘loyalty’ offer.” You reminded him, referring to the conversation from the previous night. “I’m not interested.”

He rolled his eyes at you, an exasperated sign escaping his lips. “Fine, fine. I understand your hesitance. Let me clarify: I’ll reveal everything about your past, or almost, in exchange of a small favor.”

“So you no longer want my loyalty?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, don’t be stupid.” Crowley scoffed. “I do want that, that’s my goal. But I need to give you something, I assume, for you to see that I can be trusted. Take this as a start, we can help each other.”

You pondered his proposal, torn between your desire for answers and the logical part of your brain that urged you to walk away. But you wanted answers, and as of now he seemed to be the only one that was willing for giving you some. “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s someone who’s been a constant thorn in my side ever since your little old friends decided to meddle with my Wendigos.” Crowley confessed, his frustration evident at the mere mention of the situation. “I need your help in using one of those creatures to extract this individual’s soul for me.”

“Huh?” You frowned, bewildered by the request. “Why can’t you do that yourself? Apparently Wendigos are demoniac creatures, or that was what I was told, and you said you’re the King of Hell. Are you just some sort of cheaper version of Lucifer?”

“No, you stupid kid. And don’t give me that look.” Crowley retorted, his irritation palpable. “It’s already embarrassing that I need your help to do so, you don’t need to know why just yet. But don’t worry, this ‘someone’ isn’t a person; it’s a demon. Simply killing it won’t cut it for me, I need to personally torment his soul for all eternity to find satisfaction!”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words, even if his reaction was quite amusing. He seemed to boil. “Torturing a soul for eternity? Don’t you have hobbies?”

Crowley’s expression darkened at your mocking tone, irritation clear on his eyes. “You find this amusing, don’t you?” He retorted sharply, his patience wearing thin. “I assure you, it’s not! Asking to a little creature like yourself for something I could have done myself if it wasn’t for— I don’t even have the words to describe how pathetic this is!”

You couldn’t suppress a small laugh at Crowley’s outburst, but it was more the exasperation operating for you than anything. “You look desperate. Why do you want to torture this demon?”

“That is none of your concerns.” He snapped. “I’ll find a Wendigo for you to control, all you need to do is give the order. It will be our little secret, will you help me or not?”

“Give me my answers first.” You nodded. “And then I’ll help you.”

“Very well.” Crowley leaned back on the throne, his muscles seeming to relax a bit as his usual grin made its way on his face again, seeming pleased with the answer. “But I need you to show you something else first, enjoy the little trip; I’ll find you in time. It was a pleasure making business with you.”

You didn’t have the time to question absolutely anything because Crowley snapped his fingers again, waving at you as you disappeared.

The world around you shifted for the second time that day, and the next thing you knew was that you stumbled into a dim alley, the scent of garbage from a nearby dumpster assaulting your senses as you tried to steady yourself on the wall next to you.

“Damn you, Crowley.” You muttered under your breath, feeling way more disoriented that the first time he teleported you somewhere.

Glancing down, you realized your clothes had changed; instead of your usual attire, you now wore a simple vintage dress, the fabric rustling against your skin - what the actual fuck.

You stepped out of the alley, thinking that for a brief second you were just going crazy for real for once, but the smell, the sounds, the view - it was all more than real. The city around you buzzed with life, the streets were crowded and people, dressed in clothes you only saw in old movies, walked past you laughing loudly. An old-fashioned car rumbled by and in the background there was an unfamiliar music coming from somewhere near you.

You started to walk, blending in the crowd. You occasionally glanced over your shoulder, scanning for any potential threats, unsure of what to expect or look for. After a few blocks, you turned a corner and spotted a newspaper stand, approaching it with the hope to find some answers.

The headline caught your eye immediately: ‘Next Moves of the Dictators.’ Beneath it, a black and white photo of Hitler and Mussolini stared back at you. Your brow furrowed as you picked up the newspaper, not understanding why would they be on the first page since those two thankfully and rightfully died a long time ago. You searched for a date to make sense of it all, but before you could find it, an old man snatched it from your hands.

“You need to buy this before reading, or get the hell away from here!” He scolded, waving the newspaper at you as if to shoo you off.

You stepped back, fighting the urge to talk back, going to God knows where. The city wasn’t familiar and it seemed rather old, but it was certainly big and you had no idea of what do to. You didn’t know why the fact that Fury sent Dean to kill you was connected to where you were now, but you were starting to think you had been fooled by Crowley. He was a demon after all, and those creatures weren’t worth the time.

As you kept walking with no idea of where you were going, a sudden scream echoed from a nearby corner. Your instincts kicked in, having the best of you, and you hurried towards the sound without a second thought. The alley was rather dark, but you were able to see three distinct figures - all men, unfortunately - standing there. Well, two of them were standing and one was on the ground.

“Pick on someone your own size!” One of the two men shouted, his familiar voice making you freeze on the spot. You saw the other man rushing past you like a coward, while the other one helped the guy get up from the ground. “Sometimes I think you like getting punched.” The same man said.

Both men didn’t seem to notice you as the taller one draped an arm around the scrawny boy and they began to walk in your direction. And exactly as you suspected, as their faces came into view, your jaw dropped to the floor.

“Hey doll, did you get lost?” Bucky fucking Barnes said, looking at you up and down with a charming smile on his face. He didn’t have the beard on like he usually did, and he seemed younger than what he looked like just half an hour ago, when you had last seen him.

Then, you eyes shifted to Steve who looked nothing like the Steve you knew: he was way shorter and looked on the verge of death, basically, compared to what you were used to. That was surely the Steve before the Super Soldier serum, which meant Crowley sent you back in time.

“What- what year is this?” You blurted out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky and Steve exchanged puzzled glances at the weird question. “It’s 1943?” Steve replied, confused, his brows furrowing in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay, Miss?”

You nodded, trying to process everything with a fake smile on your face. “Yeah, everything’s fine… I’m just a bit disoriented, that’s all.”

“Well,” Bucky stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. And this here is Steve Rogers.”

You shook his hand, playing along. God, if it was strange. “Nice to meet you, Bucky. And you, Steve.” You tried to mask your shock, acting as if you didn’t already know them personally.

The three of you made your way out of the ally and back to the streets, Bucky at your left and Steve at your right, as you tried to make sense of this senseless situation.

“So, Emma.” Bucky said casually, a smirk playing on his lips. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone so late at this hour?”

You let out a nervous chuckle because you didn’t know that yourself. “I was with… a friend and he just kind of…disappeared.”

Steve frowned, his concern deepening at your words. How could someone leave a woman alone at night in a crowd full of people? It wasn’t safe. “That’s not very nice. New York can be a tough place, especially at night. Would you like us to walk you home?” Steve kindly asked.

“Uhm…” You heard raced as you tried to came up with an excuse. “No worries. I don’t live here, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to visit New York before I go back home.”

Bucky raised a brow at your words, turning his head to look briefly at you. “Well, in that case, we definitely can’t let you wander around alone, this is your lucky night! Consider us your personal tour guides.”

Great. You didn’t know why the fuck Crowley sent you back in time, but you had a feeling that it had something to do with Bucky or Steve, because why would he send you back to the exact year where Bucky fell in Hydra’s hands? But then again, his decision seemed a bit dramatic when he could have just told you what you needed to know an just be done with the whole thing.

“I would love that.” You politely answered, as you let the men - mostly Bucky - guide you around the streets of the city. Steve stayed silent for most of the time.

Needless to say, Bucky was unrecognizable. He talked with a little charming grin always present on his face, and you didn’t miss the way he winked down at you a few times as the three of you spent time together. He was unusually chatty, talking with a confidence you had never saw in him - and then the sadness hit you. After every word he said, your heart felt heavier; that was the real Bucky, the one that wasn’t constantly worried about what people thought of him. He was the joyful man that wasn’t scared to speak his mind, nor the grumpy super soldier who stared at people until they were scared shitless. All because he didn’t know how to communicate properly.

You didn’t know what hour it was or where the men were taking you; under normal circumstances, you would never have wandered around New York streets alone with two men you had just met. But this situation was different. You knew them, they were good people, and most importantly, they were probably the only ones who could give you a clue about what was going on since everything started to lose sense ever since you met Crowley. Even long before that, if you thought about it.

It took an hour or so and an ice cream for the three of you to finally sit down on a bench, a bit away from the crowd. You took a relieved breath - those shoes were deadly, and you swore some blood was coming out from the back of your feet because of them.

All of the people around were focused on someone talking in a stage nearby, but you couldn’t clearly see who it was from where the three of you were sitting. All you heard was that he was talking about making flying cars in the future, which was amusing considering you knew for certain that something like that didn’t exist yet in your year.

“That’s Howard Stark.” Steve said, some of his ice cream falling and staining his shirt.

“Howard Stark?!” You said, your eyes searching through the crowd, trying to see his face. “The Howard Stark? Tony-” You stopped yourself before mentioning Tony’s full name, remembering he wasn’t even born yet. You never thought of being in a world without that infuriating man in it.

“The one and only. You didn’t know he would be here tonight? It’s a pretty big deal.” Bucky smiled, nonchalantly draping his arm on the edge of the bench behind your shoulders, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

But you did. And you didn’t push him away. You hated to admit that it made your cheeks heat up - you hated the feeling. Plus, you needed to remember that the man sitting next to you wasn’t your- the Bucky you knew, so you couldn’t feel that way. Still, if you could control your emotions, you would.

“I heard a thing or two.” You lied, turning your head to look at him. His eyes were set towards the stage, trying to catch a glimpse of Stark, but he couldn’t due to the crowd. You, however, were admiring his side profile - he was so pretty you almost forgot where you were, so you quickly looked away.

“Do you mind if I get back home?” Steve asked, gaining your attention. “I don’t feel well.”

Bucky turned to look at him, concerned, before a hint of of realization hit his features. “Steve.” He warned. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You’re the one who does stupid shit.”

You fought back the urge to scold him by saying ‘language’, but that was an inside joke between the Avengers and the future Steve, so you held your tongue.

Steve got up from the bench, his ice cream dripping on the ground and onto his hands, making him swear under his breath one more time.

“You’re a punk.”

“And you’re a jerk.” Steve remarked, though it was clear from his tone that it was all in good fun. Despite the playful banter, Bucky’s concern was evident. “It was nice meeting you, miss. Hope to see you around again.” Steve added with a polite smile.

“It was nice meeting you too, Steve.”

“Bye, Stevie.” Bucky waved.

With one last nod from Steve to Bucky, the scrawny boy walked away in his oversized clothes, leaving you and the not-yet-super soldier alone.

“Why do I have the feeling he’s gonna get in trouble?” You said, once the blonde man was no longer in sight.

Bucky let out a small laugh at your comment, scooting closer to you, still hoping you didn’t notice. “Oh, I assure you he will. It almost sounds like you know him, doll.”

“Eh, almost.” You replied with a forced chuckle, playing with the hem of your dress, which left part of your thighs and legs uncovered.

Bucky’s eyes flickered briefly to your exposed legs before he quickly looked away, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to keep the conversation going. “You better eat that ice cream or it’s gonna melt.”

You then remembering the food in your hand that he payed for earlier, which miraculously was still half intact. “Are you sure you don’t want one? We could go back and get another for you.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” He denied with a polite smile, as you ate your ice cream. “You seem a little lost in thought. Is everything alright? Perhaps I’m being too-”

“No, no, no, everything’s alright!” You immediately said, making some of his worries fade. “I’m just… thinking about how different everything is here. It’s like stepping into another world, compared to where I live.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “But there’s something charming about it, don’t you think? Sometimes it feels like… an illusion.”

You nodded, ignoring the odd feeling you suddenly felt. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. It’s nice to slow down a bit and just be in the moment, you know.”

Bucky watched you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m glad you think so. At times we get so caught up in everything that we forget to enjoy the little things.”

You felt a shiver as a cool breeze hit your skin. Bucky noticed and without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you need this more than I do.”

“Thank you.” You said, pulling the jacket closer. It smelled faintly of him.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city in the background. You took another bite of your ice cream, feeling the cold sweetness melt on your tongue. Bucky watched you, his eyes softening with each passing moments.

“You have a little…” Bucky gestured to the corner of his mouth, indicating you had ice cream on your face.

You laughed, quickly wiping it away with your thumb. “Thanks. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, it happens to me all the time.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. “I know the question might seem odd, but do you know a certain man named Crowley?” You needed to shoot your shot.

“Crowley?” He let the name roll on his tongue. “Doesn’t sound familiar, no.”

“Mh.”

“Why?” He inquired, genuinely curious.

“Nothing serious, just… trying to understand something.”

As the sky darkened further, the soft glow of streetlights began to illuminate the square. The moment felt almost normal, if you ignored the fact that the only normal thing there was you - and that said a lot. You were completely lost: you didn’t know what you had to look for, and you were convincing yourself that maybe all you had to do was wait. Also, you believed that you made a mistake by trusting, even if for a brief moment, Crowley.

But the mistake was made and you couldn’t go back in time, so all you did was sit there and wait. Something had to happen at some point, right?

Bucky’s hand moving from the back of the bench to gently brush against your shoulder was the thing that dragged you out of your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know it’s only been a couple of hours…” He began, locking his eyes to his. “But I feel like I’ve known you since forever.” He said softly. “It’s strange and creepy, I know, but I can’t shake the feeling.”

And oh, if he only knew.

“It’s not creepy.” You assured him, after all he did know you. Just not in 1943, where you currently were.

Bucky’s eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away. He inched closer, his face just mere inches away from yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible and that scared you shitless, you could not feel that was about him.

And yet, you did nothing to put an end to it.

Just as he was about to close the distance, you heard a distant shout from the crowd, breaking the spell - thank to fucking God. You pulled back immediately, almost flying away and falling off the bench.

“Sorry, that was too soon, wasn’t it?” He then asked, scratching the bridge of his nose, his voice hushed.

“A bit.” You nodded, as if that was the problem. You tried to steady your breathing as you searched for a way to change the subject. Your eyes scanned the diminishing crowd, and you finally saw what was happening on stage. “Stark didn’t do a great job with that car, did he?” You said, letting out a small laugh as the car that was supposed to fly crashed to the floor.

“No, he didn’t.” Bucky replied. His tone was much colder that it had been just a moment ago. “But he was great, wasn’t he?”

You frowned as you turned to look at him. “Was?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his eyes darkening. “Too bad I’ve killed him.”

Time froze the second he pronounced those words. Your breath caught in your throat, the playful atmosphere evaporating in an instant, almost as if it was never there. “What?” You whispered, unable to comprehend what you had just heard.

Bucky’s gaze was hard, but there wasn’t any emotion behind them; he looked like a mannequin, deprived of the humanity he seemed to have until that moment. “I killed him.” He repeated. “And I enjoyed it.”

Before you could respond, something strange happened.

Bucky’s image flickered, like a glitch in a video game. His warm, reassuring presence distorted, his face morphing between the gentle Bucky you had been talking to and the cold, emotionless mask of the Winter Soldier.

The place around you began to distort as well. The trees, the benches and the people - all started to blur and flicker, replaced by cold, sterile walls and harsh fluorescent lights you knew too well. The cheerful sounds of the square gave way to the ominous hum of machinery and distant, tortured screams.

Once the flicker stopped and you found yourself in what you were sure was a room in a Hydra base, in front of you stood the Winter Soldier, his metal arm visible due to the lack of sleeve.

“Bucky?”

Behind him stood Crowley, his hands in his pocket as he looked at you smirking. “Soldat?” He called, and you saw Bucky tensing visibly.

“готов подчиниться” The Soldier said.

Ready to comply.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x oc #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader

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you-aint-gotta-pray-for-me · 1 month ago

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Hell on Earth: Chapter 2

Masterlist

words: 2.5k

pairing: Steve Harrington x ex-friend!Henderson!reader (eventually romantic)

summary: With no word on the whereabouts of Barbara Holland, an unlikely friendship forms as a result of shared desperation and a need for answers.

timeline: set in season one right after Will goes missing

warnings: language, bending of canon, fic from reader's pov (3rd person will be there as well, will warn before a pov change if there is one)

a/n: 2nd chapter let's go!!! steve and (y/n) interaction yay, and we make a new friend so double yay to that, if you haven't read chapter 1 yet, now's the time babes. happy reading!

Reader POV

I wish I could say my night ended after I met Barb. I really do. Instead, I found my idiot brother’s bed empty when I got home, meaning he was out and about at midnight after I explicitly told him not to. I mean, I did expect this, so I don’t even know why I was disappointed. I groaned at the fact that I’d have to drive all the way back and look for him in the woods. Responsibility is kind of a bitch. Just as I was leaving my house to get to my car, I heard a window close shut. Busted.

“Dustin Henderson. I gave you ONE job!”

Dustin froze mid-step, halfway through pulling off his sneakers. His eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” I said, crossing my arms. “What were you thinking? It’s the middle of the night! Where were you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “Nowhere. Just… hanging out.”

“In the woods?” I pressed, raising an eyebrow. “At midnight?”

“Okay, fine!” he blurted, hands shooting up defensively. “I don’t know what you expected me to do, (y/n),” he argued.“I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing.”

I sighed in defeat and looked away. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing of importance. Just useless stuff, the usual.” Lies. Complete lies. I see right through you, Dustin Henderson.

I nodded, faking satisfaction at his miserable attempt at convincing me.

“Go to bed. And if I catch you sneaking around next time,” I warned, hoping he took the hint.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait that just means I don’t have to get caught.”

“Dustin.”

“I’m out.”

I stood there for a moment, watching as Dustin disappeared into his room, shutting the door behind him with the kind of finality that made it clear I wasn’t getting anything else out of him tonight. Typical.

I headed to my room and locked the door, but sleep didn’t come easily. My mind was already racing with a million little things that were troubling me. No word of what happened to Will, the cycle on Mirkwood, Dustin’s terrible attempt at lying, Barb all alone. It was all too sudden, you know? It feels like a premonition. Something waiting to go wrong. I guess I’ll just have to see.

The next morning at school, I was still in a fog when I rounded the corner to my locker and nearly walked straight into Steve. Of course, that’d happen, seeing how the universe loves me.

“Watch it, nimrod,” he said, walking past me and not even turning around to look at who he almost bumped into. The audacity of some people, I swear to god.

I shot him a glare and replied with the fakest sincerity I could muster. “I’m sorry, your highness. I didn’t see you there.”

He turned around when he heard my voice. “Oh, you,” he muttered like he was finally registering who I was.

I raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed to see me, yeah?”

He winced. “No, I didn’t- wait, no, that didn’t come out right. What I meant was... I didn’t know it was you, okay? We haven’t- I’ve mis- I, uh,”

“Just watch where you’re going, Harrington.”

“Oh, we’re on a last-name basis now?”

“We’re on a no-name basis now. Leave me alone.” As much fun as it used to be, the banter and the back and forth, he wasn’t the same guy anymore. And as much as I missed him, I was not giving him the satisfaction of being in my company.

“I was looking for you,” he blurted, with a sudden seriousness in his voice while walking back toward where I was standing. Wait, what?

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure you have the right person? My name is (Y/n). (Y/n).”

“Don’t- Don’t do that. Come on.”

“I’m sorry I just thought you wouldn’t remember who I was. It’s not like we’re friends, right?” I asked, mentally shuddering at how cold that sounded. Damn, (y/n), didn’t know you had it in you.

Steve hesitated, visibly uncomfortable with my bluntness, but he didn’t back down. “Look, I know things between us aren’t… I’m not a uh,” he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “But that’s not exactly what I wanted to talk about.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “Oh? And what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Look, I know you’re mad at me and all. But is throwing my gift to you in my swimming pool really the best course of action? I mean, it’s a low blow, don’t y-”

“Back up, what?”

“Your copy of The Shining. I found it in my pool this morning.”

Steve handed me a soggy, waterlogged book, the edges curling up like it had just been through a hurricane. The familiar cover, the same one I had given to Barb the night before, was barely recognizable beneath the damage.

My fingers froze on the wet, warped pages. I stared at him, then back at the book, trying to make sense of what was happening. “What the hell, Steve?” I muttered, still in disbelief as I skimmed through the damp pages. My mind raced. Barb. That was the same damn book I’d handed her.

“Okay, judging by your reaction I am going to guess you did not put it there, which means you either lost it, which I get, you know, common mistake, or you gave it to someone, which I have to admit, hurts a little bi-”

“Steve shut up.”

“Okay,” Steve muttered, clearly thrown off by my reaction.

The hallway was nearly empty, the only sound being the faint hum of lockers creaking and students murmuring in the distance. It felt strangely quiet, like time had slowed for just a moment. I wasn’t sure if it was the empty space or just the gravity of the situation, but my stomach tightened.

“When did you find it?”

“This morning. Why, what’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed, and for once, he wasn’t smirking or trying to play it off. Something in his tone shifted- he seemed genuinely concerned now.

“I gave this to Barb,” I said, my voice quieter this time, more uncertain. I didn’t know why, but my stomach dropped even lower. Something didn’t sit right.

“Nancy’s friend Barb?” Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes,” I answered, frustration creeping in. “Was she there when Nancy left this morning?” My voice came out almost in a whisper, like I was afraid of the answer.

“No, Nancy left last night. Alone. I just assumed she left a bit before.”

“Only she didn’t leave. She was waiting for Nancy.”

“Wait, Nancy mentioned something. She called the Hollands this morning.”

“And?”

“I don’t think Barb went home last night.” Steve’s response felt like a punch to the gut. Barb never came home. I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. Something was off– way off– and now, it seemed like we were all tangled up in something bigger than either of us realized.

“(Y/n), is everything okay?”

“Steve, I think Barb’s missing.”

I raced home after school as soon as I could. I tried Holland’s place once more just for good measure. No luck. This meant that Barb really was missing, and just the thought made me shudder. How long after I left did she go missing? Was she in danger? Could I have stopped it if I had waited a little longer? Worse, Could it have been me?

The only way I was getting any answers was if I went looking for it, and the only way for me to do that was to start by asking someone who may already have some.

I hesitated for a moment, then dialed Nancy’s number.

“Yeah, Is this the Wheeler’s? I’m looking for Nancy.”

“This is Nancy. Who am I speaking with?”

“Nancy, hey, this is (Y/n) from school,” I said, trying my best not to sound as awkward as I felt. How are you supposed to keep it together while talking to someone you’ve never talked to before? God. I was just happy this was happening over the phone.

“Oh! Hey, how can I help you?” she asked, trying her best to sound less confused.

“Yeah, listen,” I cleared my throat. “Have you heard from Barb lately? I– I’ve been trying to reach her, but no one seems to know where she is. I just... I’m really worried.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“No, I haven’t.” Nancy’s voice grew more serious. “(Y/n), I think Barb’s missing. I’ve been trying to get some answers, but so far everything’s a dead end.”

I felt a wave of relief mixed with dread. At least I wasn’t the only one worried.

“Yeah, I was kind of hoping you’d know something I didn’t,” I said quietly.

“Do you know anything? When was the last you heard from her?”

I debriefed her about the notes, the pool, and the book and caught her up until this morning, and to my horror, Nancy Wheeler, who I had had a full conversation with barely 2 times before today broke down crying over the phone. I was not trained for this. Oh God.

“This was my fault. This was all my fault. I–”

“Nancy– Nancy, breathe.”

“I mean, what was I thinking? I forced her to come, I just– I– Oh, god. I did this. I–”

I rushed to calm her down, my heart pounding. Nancy’s voice was cracking, like it was going to break any second, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was feeling right now. But I had to try. Barb was missing. That was the real thing to focus on, not guilt. Because if both of us go down that rabbit hole, there was no coming out.

“Nancy, listen to me,” I said, trying to steady my own breathing. “It’s not your fault. You had a momentary lapse. It’s fine. It happens. We don’t know what really happened yet. We’re going to figure this out. We’ll find her. Okay? Breathe.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from her end, followed by a shaky sigh. She tried to compose herself, but it was clear how rattled she was.

“I just… I should’ve told her to stay home. I should’ve done something.” She sniffled, and it twisted something inside me hearing her so vulnerable.

“You can’t change what happened,” I said, my voice firm, even though I was feeling just as lost as she was. “But you can help find her now. That’s what matters.”

There was a moment of silence, and I could hear her trying to pull herself together.

“Right,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, but still full of that underlying resolve I’d come to recognize. “Right. We need to find Barb. That’s what matters.”

“Exactly.” I took a deep breath, mentally bracing myself. “Now, do you know anyone who might have seen her? Or... anything that could help?”

“I’m trying to put the pieces together,” Nancy said, her tone more controlled now, though it still held a hint of fear. “But I need someone to help me look into it. If you’re serious about this, I could use the extra set of eyes.”

“I’m in,” I said, without hesitation. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

“I’m glad you called,” Nancy whispered. “I don’t know what to do without someone else to help me right now.”

“I’ve got your back,” I said, my voice steady, even though my insides were churning. “Let’s go get Barb home.”

There was a pause before Nancy spoke again, her voice determined now. “We will. We have to.”

I didn’t get much sleep after my call with Nancy. Between replaying her words and trying to piece together Barb’s last known whereabouts, my brain was in overdrive. By the time I got to school the next morning, I was running on nothing but adrenaline and bad coffee.

Nancy was waiting by her locker when I arrived, looking just as sleep-deprived as I felt. Her eyes were red, like she’d spent most of the night crying, but there was a new resolve in her expression.

“Hey,” she said quietly when she saw me.

“Hey,” I replied, matching her tone. “Any updates?”

She shook her head, biting her lip. “No. But I have an idea.”

I leaned against the locker next to hers, crossing my arms. “I’m listening.”

“Jonathan said Mrs Byers thinks a creature took Will. Something not human.”

“That’s… concerning.”

Nancy glanced around, lowering her voice. “Get this. Jonathan was taking pictures at Steve’s party that night.”

I frowned. “Jonathan? What was he doing at the party?”

“Unimportant. The point is, we have pictures,” she said, hoping I’d pick up on what she was implying.

“Wait, that’s great, if Barb went missing the same way Will did, that might tell us something.”

“Exactly. As soon as we piece them together, we may actually have something.”

“Why are they in pieces?” I asked, confused.

“Fine, if you must know, Jonathan took some compromising pictures of me that may or may not have ended up in Steve’s hands which resulted in, well, these,” she said, pointing to the torn pictures, “and a broken camera.”

“... My God.”

Nancy’s words hung in the air like the aftermath of a storm, her cheeks faintly flushed with embarrassment. She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, avoiding my gaze for a moment before forcing herself to look up.

“I know how it sounds,” she added quickly, her voice edged with defensiveness, “but he wasn’t being a creep. Not really. He’s just— he was trying to figure out what happened to Will. He thought… I don’t know. Maybe the pictures could help.”

The weight of her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “You really think it’ll show that thing?”

“I think it’s the only real lead we’ve got.” Her voice was firm now, steady despite the emotion flickering in her red-rimmed eyes. “But I wanted to tell you first. Before we did anything with them.”

I crossed my arms, taking a deep breath. The logical part of me screamed this was messy, risky, and wrong. But the desperate part of me, the part that wanted answers just as much as she did, couldn’t ignore the possibility.

“Okay,” I said finally. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Nancy exhaled, relief softening her features for the briefest of moments before she handed me the torn photos. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I swear, we’ll make this right.”

And as I held the pieces in my hands, I realized we were both in way over our heads—but at least we weren’t alone.

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ruksanada · 2 months ago

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Harringrove pirate au

I added a snippet of the fic I started writing.

I think I'm at like chapter 9, defs need a beta reader, grammarly can only help my dyslexic ass so much xD but yeah here is a little sketch I did whilst inspired~

Read below ⬇️⬇️⬇️

“Looks like a noble’s ship,” Billy hummed eagerly, more to himself than to Max. “We’re taking it.”

Max raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. She knew the drill. They had done this enough times to make the plan muscle memory. Billy turned, his heart already pounding with the thrill of what was about to happen. They were pirates, and pirates didn’t survive by playing it safe.

Within minutes, they were alongside the noble ship. The Runaway Renegades moved silently through the water, thanks to Jane and Kali. Billy motioned to the crew, and one by one, they tossed the grappling hooks over the side of the royal vessel.

Billy climbed the ropes silently, his heart thudding in his chest. The moon barely illuminated the massive ship they now clung to, but it didn’t matter. He knew how to move unseen, like a shadow creeping through the night. His crew followed behind him, but Billy’s focus was ahead, locked on the captain’s quarters.

He slipped onto the deck, his boots landing with barely a sound. His crew scattered like phantoms, but Billy headed straight for the captain's quarters. Max and his crew could handle the others.

The door creaked as he pushed it open. Inside, the room was dimly lit by flickering candlelight, and sitting at the captain’s desk was a boy, no more than Billy’s age. But this wasn’t just any boy. He was a prince, a familiar one. The brunette was rolling his crown back and forth on the desk like it was a piece of scrap metal.

Billy’s heart skipped a beat before it quickly settled back into its cold, steady rhythm. The prince looked up from his desk, his hazel eyes locking onto his blues, surprise flashing across his face. He was beautiful, in that infuriatingly aristocratic way. Dark hair that looked like it had been fussed over, sharp jawline, and an air of someone who had never had to fight for anything in his life.

“Who the hell are you?” the prince demanded, jumping to his feet, his hand reaching for something, a sword, maybe. Too bad for him it wasn’t on his hip, it was over near the far to luxurious bed.

Billy couldn’t deny the prince had a certain... appeal. It was the fire behind his eyes. He was scared, but he wasn’t backing down.

Billy smirked, stepping forward with an easy swagger, his fingers playing with the hilt of his own blade. “What, no ‘welcome aboard’ for the new guest?”.

The brunette's eyes narrowed, but Billy saw the flicker of uncertainty in them. “This is my ship,” he said, his voice hard but a little too high.

Billy stepped forward, his grin widening, fingers still toying with the hilt of his sword. “Really, you sure about that? looks like it has my name written all over it… Maybe you’ve heard of it… Billy the Bloody ring any bells? I’ll be taking your ship now, princess.”

The prince’s eyes narrowed at the insult. “Like hell, you will.” He had most defiantly heard that name before he had seen the wanted posters, and heard the stories, his crew was notorious.

Steve tried his best to swallow his fear but the most recent news of the pirate in front of him was swirling around his head.

Princess Cunningham had been kidnapped for ransom. The pirate had got their ransom then slit her throat and threw her into the water. Or at least that’s what he had heard, there were so many rumours, all too unbelievable. World’s fastest ship that moved more silently than an owl, disappearing as though it had never been there. A crew of children that never grew up.

Whether it was true or not, the prince’s heart was pounding erratically in his chest. He was probably going to die.

Billy let out a low chuckle, his gaze dragging over the teen in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just here for the ship. “Oh, I will. And you’re going to stand there looking pretty while I do it.”

The brunette flushed at being called pretty but anger soon flashed across his face in a second. He hated being called useless he had heard it far too often from his father “I don’t know who you think you are, but-”

“I know exactly who I am.” Billy interrupted, taking another step closer, his grin growing. “The guy taking your ship. And you" his eyes scanned him up and down, "Pretty boy… you’re just gonna stand there like the helpless little princess you are.”

The prince sputtered, his hands clenched into fists. “I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Billy cut in, now only a few feet away from the royal, his voice low and teasing. “Scream for help? Cry to daddy? I bet you’ve never had to fight for a damn thing in your life, have you?”.

Before he could finish, the prince lunged forward, his fist swinging hard toward Billy’s face. Billy barely had time to react, dodging to the side, the punch only just grazed his jaw. It was the second swing that got him, his other fist made hard contact with his face. The pain ignited something wild in Billy, and for a moment, all he felt was adrenaline. A sharp almost manic laugh left his mouth.

“Well, well, look at you. Got some fight in you after all,” Billy muttered, wiping the blood from his lip.

Without missing a beat, the brunette swung again, but Billy caught his wrist, twisting it behind his back in a single, fluid motion. The prince let out a sharp grunt of pain, but he didn’t give up. He kicked out, trying to trip Billy, but Billy was faster, shoving him down against the desk.

For a moment, Billy was draped over the prince’s back pressing him hard down onto the desk his breath against his ear, the tension between them thick and palpable. Billy’s grin was sharp, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement.

It was surely a compromising sight “Oh princess, what is thy name? ” Billy teased his face an inch from the wonderfully flustered brunette.

His hazel eyes still burning with defiance. “It’s Prince Stephen Harrington and I’m not scared of the like of you.” Billy’s first thought was right. He knew him.

“Maybe you should be Stevie~” Billy shot back, grinding himself a little harder against Steve who he had bent over the desk. For a moment, the air felt charged between them, like a storm waiting to break. And then Steve, infuriatingly stubborn, threw his head backwards, catching Billy square in the nose with a hard crack.

Billy stumbled back, a sharp sting spreading across his face. He hadn’t expected that. The prince had some real guts.

But enough was enough.

Billy wiped at the blood trickling from his nose, his grin now replaced with something colder, darker. He drew his sword with a smooth motion, the blade glinting in the candlelight. “You’re fun, Harrington,” Billy said, his voice low and dangerous, “but we’re done here.”

Steve’s gaze flickered to the blade, his chest heaving from the fight, but he stood his ground, fists still clenched.

Billy stepped closer, his voice dropping even lower. “Unless you want your little crew to suffer, I suggest you calm down. This ship is mine now, and if you don’t hand it over... well, let's just say I’m not feeling too merciful tonight.”

Steve’s bravado faltered slightly at the mention of his crew “You can’t just take whatever you want,” he said through gritted teeth.

Billy chuckled darkly, leaning in so close Steve could feel the heat of his breath. “Watch me.”

With that, Billy sheathed his sword and turned, but not without one final glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and princess? Next time you throw a punch, plant your feet, then draw a charge”

Steve glared at him, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. Billy could feel his gaze burning into his back as he stepped out of the captain’s quarters, a smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Fine,” Steve spat. “Take the ship. But don’t think for a second I’m going to make this easy for you.”

Billy’s smile turned feral. “Oh, I don’t want it easy, princess. That wouldn’t be any fun.”

Steve stiffened at the insult. Billy was already heading for the door, his mind buzzing. This was going to be interesting.

As Billy stepped out onto the deck, he glanced back over his shoulder, catching Steve’s narrowed gaze.

This really was going to be fun.

#harringrove rp #billy x steve #steve x billy #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things au #pirate au #harringrove

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atzfilm · 1 year ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [2] (M)

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); wooyoung x reader, yunho x reader; 11.4k

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore

Desire is such a futile thing. Grasping at a fleeting fit of passion that will be over in just a few breaths. Yearning for a moment ever so brief, it was like it never even began. It only continues to ponder you as you stare at the book of forgotten history, tucked between an old Jane Eyre and newly found poetry. It's an odd place, but Soobin himself is odd. He thought that it would allow someone to find a new interest – resting unlike books next to one another. You yourself didn't even know the book existed until you stumbled upon it. Your fingers glide along the pages, many dog-eared. A part of you hopes that whenever Soobin comes back he could tell you why he noted these particular pages. If he ever does, that is. The lump in your throat continues. You flip a page with hopes to distract yourself.

The multitude of Fae folk is still unknown. Ranging from the dozens to hundreds, not one researcher agrees on how many exactly exist, or if they truly exist at all. But what we all know is that it begins with disappearances.

Until a town is drained dry.

You close the book, the familiar chill creeping up again. The store is closed now and you've checked twice to make sure it's empty. There is no real reason why you feel fear. But you're not one to ignore it. You tuck the book away, locking up the front gates to the store and exiting promptly, the apartment above the store left abandoned.

It has been over a month now since Soobin has disappeared. You've been interviewed by the local sheriff's department for your involvement and your plea for innocence was believed. No one could say nor prove it was your fault that Soobin suddenly vanished. Nothing tied you to it. Even the townsfolk, as bitter as they may be that you weren't the one to leave, told the police that you were at various stores in town when he was no longer around. You could only thank them. Perhaps your reputation isn't as heinous as you once thought.

Contacting his family was your biggest fear. His parents told you that Soobin called at the time, explaining he needed time away then never called again. They aren't as worried as you, apologizing for the way he broke up with you. Neither of you understand why he just left. It's not like him. He fights tooth and nail and never just leaves. Foul play has been ruled out but you just can't wrap your head around it. The two of you loved one another. Giving up that easily… Do you even know the real Choi Soobin?

Have you ever?

"Haven't I told you not to walk home alone?"

Seonghwa appears next to you as he always does. Hands tucked in his sleek trench coat, the same friendly smile on his lips. His strange appearance is nothing new. A few times a week he seemingly conjures up on empty streets and sidewalks to walk you home. Only another check on your list of him not being human. He never threatened you nor persuaded you with anything nefarious as of yet, but his presence still brought fear. One day the visits wouldn't be so meaningless. One day he won't be as kind.

"There's no one ever around for me to be scared, Hwa," you say. "Unless you want me to be afraid of you."

"You should be mindful. Not everyone is as they seem. You should know from experience."

Whether or not his words are a purposeful jab is frivolous, but they do sting. "Feels like a warning for me to stay away from you, Seonghwa."

He doesn't stop walking, his voice is softer this time. "I didn't mean it that way. You know that."

You do. Since you've met the mysterious man all he's done is stand up for you. Irritate the locals with his snarky remarks, enough so that many began to leave you alone. Sure, the lack of customers is quite severe at this moment, it was better than having to force a smile on your lips as they mentioned how Soobin ran the store better than you ever have. There's only so many strained smiles you could muster.

But trusting Seonghwa? The creature of the night who you are ninety-five percent sure is a Faerie? An Unseelie one at that? You can only hold back your scoff. What you have found about them is helpful. One of which you haven't tested yet – whether or not they could lie. Now is a prime opportunity. You glance at the man walking next to you, before speaking. Low ball questions first, before you can gradually ask the important ones.

"Do you think I'm doing well?" You ask.

His brow raises. "Change of subject?"

"A bit, but not really. I just… it's been a lot, being on my own now. I was self-sufficient before I met him and still am, but things are different. I wanted this dream with him. I wanted to struggle with him. Sometimes I wonder if all of this is worth it. If I should even wait for him."

"You are doing well," he murmurs. "As well as a human can under these circumstances."

Your chest begins to tighten at his words. The thought of proving yourself right is gone. The sincerity of his goes in one ear and out the other. Only one word you can focus on. One sticking out in the sentence, bile gathering at the back of your throat.

Human.

No one you've met in your entire life speaks of people that way. You struggle to hold your poker face. Pretend that nothing is wrong. You take a slow breath. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. Ah, I must go now though, my family will be wondering where I am by now," he glances at his watch, before shooting you a small smile. "I will see you soon, y/n. Have a good rest."

He turns on his heels before you can say more, disappearing into the night. You hold your bag closer to yourself, steps quickening. You have little option left. You can't leave the town no matter how much you want to – that'll mean leaving the bookstore behind. A sound minded person would forget about it and just leave but you can't. Despite how disappointed you are for Soobin leaving you alone, you can't leave the store. It's silly, but you still care about him. It'll hurt you to see the store fall apart. You just hope he'll come back soon.

Maybe then he'll be able to tell you if you're being delusional or not.

"She knows." Seonghwa enters his home, frustration coating his features. "I fucked it up and now she knows."

"Told you~" Wooyoung's falsetto tone rings through the corridors. "I should have gone to her instead."

The glare Seonghwa sends him is enough for Wooyoung to drop his grin, exiting the room. Jongho and Yunho are the only other two in the room, both focused on reading. They're underdressed for this time of night; Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong planned another visit to the human world for food. And it's their turn to join them, though they look too involved in their own separate readings to even change out of their sleepwear. Yunho looks up from the writings.

"On a scale from Hongjoong tripping on a rock to Mingi setting fire to a village, how bad?"

Seonghwa sighs. "I said humans in front of her."

Jongho winces, "No coming back from that. What did you do after?"

"I panicked and left. Her heart rate picked up and her perspiration began coating her forehead. I thought I would be able to last longer–"

"She is quite intelligent. It wouldn't have taken her longer than another week to put the pieces together. You just sped up the process," Yunho murmurs. "But the question still remains: How do we explain this to everyone else?"

"We don't," Jongho closes his book softly, glancing between them. "Wooyoung is very likely running around our home right now telling every living soul what happened. We'll just have to deal with the repercussions. She knows now, which means that she will avoid you Seonghwa. And will very likely be wary of any new people hovering around her. It won't be as easy this time to convince her to come here."

"We keep her here then?" Yunho suggests.

"No…" Seonghwa stops pacing, thinking. "She trusts me. At least more than the rest of us. I can convince her to come here willingly."

"Can you?"

Seonghwa frowns. He's not too sure. He's broken it at this point. Struggling to mend it back together will just take too long. You'll slip right through their fingers. So despite how much he does not want to consider this choice, it's all he has. Perhaps the incessant little voice in the back of his head is correct.

"Wooyoung may be able to. I know we've avoided his particular methods, but there's little left to be done. The rest of us aren't as friendly as him, aside from Yunho. And you often avoid humans entirely because of your attachment issues."

Yunho frowns, "Thanks for pointing that out."

"Your decision has come too late," Another voice interrupts them, their gaze moving to the door. San leans on the threshold, cross arms against his chest. "The little turnip has already left our home. It's only a matter of time that he stumbles upon her path."

Their combined groans echo around the room.

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the stone fence, leg swinging. He can recall Seonghwa saying that he saw you meander by this path often, but it’s been several days now and Wooyoung himself hasn’t seen you once. Perhaps it was a different path? His fingers run along the stone, humming. Moss covers the gray now, the elements turning it into a darkened, brown color. He whispers into his fingers, pressing them back to the stone. His gaze softens when he sees the color slowly coming back.

“Humans,” he murmurs, scowling. A sweet smell fills his nose. He looks up from the rock, licking his lips. You stand at the end of the path, frozen in your spot. Your hands grip the straps of your bag. Eyes widened in fear. His match yours, but instead in glee, hopping off his spot. You don’t move – even as he slides down the hill, stopping just in front of you.

His hair is long and wavy, framing his cheeks. Kind eyes that seem to be without malice. But you’re not too sure of that. Faeries have a way of concealing their true intentions without much effort. He pushes strands away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. His wear is unusual – mossy green transparent attire adorning his slim frame, barefoot, though no sign of torn skin from the rough ground. You wrinkle your nose. Dwelling on odd observations won't pull you out of this situation.

“y/n. Seonghwa never told me you were easy on the eyes. It’ll be sadder for me to dance with you now,” he frowns, gaze flicking over your face. Dance?

He leans forward. “Your aura is bright. You remind me of a sunset.”

You try and pretend the familiar name does not phase you. It's difficult – you've suspected endlessly that Seonghwa is a faerie and his words are merely confirmation. So maybe this is a friend of his, or family? Either way it doesn't matter to you. Sticking around is the last thing you want.

“I have to be somewhere,” you say through tight lips. He shrugs, taking another step toward you. Panic settles in your chest. No one is around, no one would stop him even if they were. You're all alone in this. “Sir, pardon me–”

“Oh!” He grins, laughing. “Sir? Do not tease me, human. My name is Wooyoung. Ah wait, look at this my lux solaris.” He turns his hand over, palm facing you. You look away from it, a sigh echoing around you. “I won’t kill you, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t hurt me.” A quick thought crosses your mind: where’s Soobin when you need him? Just as the silly thought appears it's gone. Nowhere. Nowhere around here for all you know. You hate how your mind next moves to the kind Seonghwa. Would he do anything? Or will he only allow this to happen? And why are you depending so much on a man – no, faerie.

He purses his lips, “You know the way of the fae. Fine, I won’t hurt you or ensnare you or kill you in any way right now. Now look,” he nudges you slightly. You finally move your eyes down to his hand. Using his other hand, he drags his pointer finger across his palm. A bright yellow path follows it, disappearing off the edge of his palm. His eyes flick to yours, grin widening.

“It is solaris, like you.” he closes his fist, “I’ve practiced that trick for hundreds of years now, you know. It’s hard for humans to see the Will o’ the Wisp without falling prey. So you must be quite special."

You back away from him, "It was a trick?"

"No, because I can't lie as you know," he rolls his eyes. "I just knew you wouldn't fall underneath the spell because we have tried it already on you, silly."

…

"Excuse me?"

"You are resistant to our will, solaris. And none of us quite know why. I'm here to pretend to woo you and guide you back to our home to do testing. By any means necessary. And if my surly words don't work, I'll do it by force."

Everything he says confuses you more and more. "Why would you tell me you're to lure me?"

His smile slips. "What would you rather me do, lie? You know yourself that Unseelie cannot lie. So why shall I tread around the truth?"

"Will Seonghwa be there?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course. He needs to be there so he can see that my method works much better than he has ever done or ever will."

"... Is there any way for me to get out of this?"

He pouts, shaking his head. "Of course not."

Debating on running would be also silly then. He lets you ponder, folded hands resting behind him as he paces. You look back at the path. Just as you're about to turn, Wooyoung appears by your side. His sudden presence makes you stumble, falling back to the sidewalk. He sighs, watching as you gather your things and stand again.

"Running would be useless. I can just make you come with me solaris. But I want to make this easy."

"Kidnapping someone is never easy," you murmur between tight lips. Why did you ever decide to enter this town? It seems like every signal mythical creature around is appearing. It wouldn't shock you if Soobin suddenly appeared, explaining his disappearance is due to him being a merman. The thought makes you snort.

Wooyoung grins. "Now you understand! Let's go!" He touches your elbow lightly, and before you can shove him off, an uneasy feeling settles over you. It grips your skin, painfully pulling against the surface before your surroundings change. You can barely breathe, falling to the grass beneath you. The sidewalk from before is gone, replaced with thickened underbrush and endless woods. You swallow, mouth dry.

"Hm," he bends down, eyes roaming over you once. "Perhaps Hongjoong was right when he told me humans couldn't demanifest."

"You're sick," you manage to speak, coughing. Your body slowly begins to feel like your own, trembles cascading through you. Wooyoung does nothing to help, looking you over as you finally bring yourself back to the reality in front of you. It's difficult to stand but you manage. Your bag is gone, probably somewhere between the split of reality he just dragged you through. "Never do that again."

"I won't. Demanifestation seemed to have done a number on you and I apologize for that. But it appears that a part of you was left behind."

You immediately touch your body. Your clothes are intact, fingers touching your hair. You look at him in confusion, his wicked smile stretching across his cheeks. The breath that comes out feels louder than before.

"You tricked me."

"No," his brows furrow. "Your bag. It's still back on the sidewalk. But your town is … well, I'm sure it will remain in the same place."

There's no reason to reply, steadying yourself. You look around, the forest too dense for you to see any opening. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with the faerie. He knows it as well.

"We're done after this?"

He doesn't say a word.

—

“Our home is quite simple since we live in the middle of the Rowan trees. We have to make sure it’s hidden enough from both humans and other faeries,” he explains. You notice how light his steps are, as if he is floating over bricks, barely making an imprint in the dirt. Unlike yourself – stumbling ungracefully over rocks and forestry, trying your best to stabilize yourself. Wooyoung doesn’t point out your lack of coordination, still speaking about the grandeur of a house that’s … the opposite? You're not too sure on the nuances.

“There’s no need to worry,” he says after a moment, stopping just in front of you. "I'm not bringing you to your death."

"You vaporized me and transported me to the middle of a forest, and shortly after told me you didn't realize it would bother me. So I'm sorry if I don't exactly trust anything you say to me."

"It's true," he whines. You stare at him strangely. He has to be much older than you – Unseelie live to unfathomable ages from what you've read. They're conniving and humorous to capture you but after, ruthless and unforgiving. Now that Wooyoung has you, you can't see why he's still acting so silly. Humorous even. You might even enjoy his company if you weren't in the situation you are right now.

"Okay," you murmur.

He holds out his hand. Fear curls in you as you take his. His skin is warm, fingers entwining in yours with ease. He stares ahead, humming. "Humans can't see our home since we're quite close to neighborhoods. Hold onto me until we pass the threshold, alright? And don't let go until I tell you. It'll feel as if your body is being torn apart if you don't pass through properly. Do you understand?" There isn't any teasing like before, eyes focused. You nod, and he matches you. With his free hand, he holds it out.

The air seems to shimmer and bend beneath his fingertips, twisting reality. Just as quick as he does it, your surroundings change. What was once endless forest is now a large structure in the middle of overgrown trees. The home looks pristine despite its surroundings, vines covering and growing into the brickface. It looks to be three floors, a wrap around porch, all of the windows and doors ajar. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief. His fingers begin to slip from yours. Your own grip tightens and he furrows his brows, confused.

“Hm?” His lips part, recognition. “Ah, I’ve pulled you through the fabric of reality already, solaris. You can let go whenever you like. Though I don’t mind continuing to hold you.”

You let go, his laugh echoing through the forest. Without pause he walks toward the home, not bothering to turn and see if you’d follow. You do, of course. There’s no reason for you to try and run away now, you’re deep enough in the woods that you’d lose your sense of direction and end up lost. The smell of something sweet glides through the low breeze. Cinnamon-like. Wooyoung enters through the front doors, glancing around before turning down a hallway.

“No one’s around,” he murmurs, glancing back at you. “Seonghwa should be here soon though, he’s not out with the others.”

You pass by an open kitchen. Everything is neat and tidy, table set with lavish flatware and utensils. As you squint, you’re sure it’s made out of some type of gemstone. He continues down the hall.

“He’ll be going to his library first, so we should wait there.”

You stick closer to him now, carefully maneuvering so that your shoes don’t stumble over loose vines moving in and out of the hardwood. The doors down this hallway are closed, locks hanging from the knobs. You don’t say a word but he seems to notice your expression, grinning.

“Unseelie are quite forgetful when it comes to locks. We’ve locked ourselves out enough from places around here that we thought it best to just leave the keys in the knob.”

“None of you are afraid of an intruder?”

He chuckles, “No one would dare enter without our permission, solaris. That’s just a death wish.”

He opens the doors at the end of the hall, beckoning you inside and closing the door behind the two of you. The room is enormous, stories high shelving, endless literature surrounding you. Some titles you recognize from your own bookstore, others unfamiliar. There’s a lot in languages you cannot begin to understand or recognize. It seems endless as your eyes roam. Your stomach twists. Soobin would have loved to see this for himself.

“Ah, he must have cleaned up,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Wonder if he saw the mess Jongho left.”

You walk around slowly, careful not to disturb anything. “How many of you live here?”

“Why? Want a room?” Wooyoung sits on the edge of a table, legs swinging. “I don’t mind it.”

“Just want to know what I’m dealing with,” you frown.

“Hm,” he stretches his fingers, counting beneath his breath, “One, two… Eight. Including me.”

Eight Unseelies. And that's just the amount that live near your home. You can only imagine how many roam the streets, disguised as humans. Dwelling among you. You called the townspeople silly for believing in such superstitions. Now they would just laugh in your face if they knew the truth.

"The people missing…?" You trail off.

Wooyoung doesn't respond to your inquiry. He's moved towards a desk, flipping through the pages in silence. You almost repeat it until he turns to you, eyes flicking between yours.

"We simply ask for a dance. It's their decision on whether they'd like to take our hand. You are your own maker. It's more fun that way.”

A chill passes over you.

He balances a flask between his fingers, humming an unfamiliar tune. Allowing him to drag you through the forbidden Rowan trees into their home is not exactly what you planned, but is there any other choice? Figuring out what he is, what they are, is another point added to your list. There’s just no plan after it. So what if they’re Unseelie? The townsfolk would rather sacrifice you than their own family members. And you can’t blame them. They’ve already blamed the disappearances on you. This will only be something else added to their endless list of hating you.

"You scare me."

Wooyoung looks at you, eyes seemingly somewhere else entirely. "A wise choice."

The door slides open, familiar hands gripping the panel before sliding it back. His eyes slide over to Wooyoung, before looking at you. He lets out the loudest sound you’ve heard from him, groans bouncing against the walls. It’s a bit surprising to see him in such fancy wear, close to what he wore when you first met. His fingers gently rub his temples, obscenities mumbled under his breath.

“You’re just getting worse by every moment,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “If I were Hongjoong you would have been thrown to the Seelie by now.”

“You wouldn’t!” Wooyoung gasps. It’s very much exaggerated, eyes wide. The moment that just passed between the two of you long gone.

“I would. Fortunate for you that I cannot,” he barely glances at you. “You’d follow a stranger into the woods? Have you not listened to any of the words I’ve said?” His tone is harsher than before, formerly kind eyes filled with mire. It was quite silly of you to think that for a second he actually did enjoy your presence. Unseelie are the way they are. He is no different than the rest.

“I had no choice, he threatened the town.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “Of course he did. Why do you even care for a town that doesn’t care for you?”

“Why am I even here?” you say. Seonghwa does not bother to reply to you, fingers gracing one of the leather bound books. He walks past the two of you, lounging in the chair in the farthest corner.

“Hello?”

“Seonghwa wants to experiment on you,” Wooyoung shrugs. “Each attempt that he’s tried to use his abilities on you has faltered. It’s like you’re immune to it. That’s why he’s been spending so much time with you, learning the way you work, your habits and schedules. To see if there’s some explanation for your resistance. Unfortunately he hasn’t found a lead yet. So, I decided to bring you here to see if any of the others can penetrate that strong will of yours, and for him to continue to conduct his research.”

"You're joking."

Wooyoung shakes his head. "Not in the slightest."

You grab your bag, ignoring the pleading eyes Wooyoung attempts to send you. He steps in your way and you only slide beneath his outstretched arms, leaving the room all together. Wooyoung turns around to catch Seonghwa's gaze, pout burned into his lips. Said man still doesn't look up from his book. Of course, Wooyoung could have stopped you if he truly wanted to. An Unseelie versus a human is an easy match. But his mate likes the theatrics of it all, so Seonghwa sinks further into his seat, frames resting on the tip of his nose. It's for show – none of the Unseelie have bad eyesight.

Wooyoung slumps over, knees hitting the mossy floors. "Hyung, please," he whines.

"Typical Wooyoung. Only respecting me when he needs something," Seonghwa murmurs, flipping a page. "Go after her, I'm not your babysitter. Preferably sooner rather than later, unless you want Jongho or Mingi to stumble across a human in our home."

"You're supposed to help me."

"Your mess, not mine," he points out. "Why do you expect me to clean it up? Do it yourself."

"What will you do if they think she's food?"

Seonghwa shrugs. “They know who she is already.”

"Your experiment!"

Seonghwa pauses in his reading for a moment, looking up. He does want to see what exactly is different about you. A clan member taking your life before it happens isn't what he wants. But he's grown tired of fixing things that aren't his problem. Especially one as monumental as this. He gets up, pushing past his grinning mate and exiting the room. It isn't hard to trace your tracks, your heartbeat louder than anyone else's in this home. He just hopes that he gets to you first.

—

Walking through the home is easy and straightforward. You don't bother glancing to the side, previously closed doors ajar casting fear in your heart. Wooyoung so easily lets his words flow, telling you that Seonghwa planned on experimenting, perhaps even dissecting you. All of it is too much, too soon. Too overwhelming for you to comprehend without losing your mind. You step out the front doors, suddenly stopping.

Wooyoung warned you of stepping through without holding his hand. Is that danger gone, or do you still have to worry? Are you forced to stay here against your will?

You should never have gone to that silly bonfire.

"You'll die if you leave without our permission."

You turn, Seonghwa standing there. His hands are tucked in the pocket of his cardigan, glancing over your shoulder. "We never leave it open. A few more yards and you'd be vaporized."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that?"

His lip quips, "Wooyoung told you that I wanted to experiment on you. It would be difficult to achieve that if you're only dust in the wind."

The change of personalities is still difficult to grasp.

"Then what do you propose?" You say.

"Stay longer. I'll let you go after I've tried a few things. None of it involves seriously injuring you. It's just blood sampling and majik tests. Should be no more than an hour. Once that is complete I will do further tests, but that will be in a few days."

"... and then you will let me go?"

He nods, "I have no reason for you to stay. You're not a real burden to us since no other faeries are around. As of now you’re no threat."

The alarms are blaring in your head as you stare at him, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. His words aren't enough to convince you, but you have little choice. You need one of them to help you leave. And you're positive they wouldn't until you let Seonghwa do whatever he needs to test and see why you're resistant to them. There's nothing else to debate or dwell on. The front porch creaks, Wooyoung leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. The same smug look on his face.

–

"Pretty," Yunho whispers to himself, sitting on the edge of the roof. He leans forward, dust and leaves from the tiles cascading down to the ground. It's as if in slow motion, your gaze flicking to the fallen leaves. Surprisingly, you don't look up to see where they've come from. Instead, you catch one between your fingers. Examining it for a brief moment you tuck it in your pocket, following Seonghwa into their home. Yunho almost slips as he follows your movements, flustered. He sighs, pressing his hands against his cheeks. They're quite warm despite the drop in degrees tonight.

Too pretty, he thinks. Humans aren't this pretty. The others said you weren't a faerie, but were you something else? He lets his thoughts linger, until the loud stomping of Mingi's feet distract him. He glances back, his friend sitting to the right of him. His clothing is freshly pressed. No evidence of tonight's events covering him.

"You're getting distracted already," Mingi points out, the front door closing behind you and Seonghwa. "This isn't something to attach yourself to, Yunho. An experiment and nothing else."

Yunho rolls his eyes, "I know I know, and I'm not getting distracted. She's just a human." He narrows his eyes. Right.

You're just a human.

—

"Arm."

Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he stands there, almost perturbed at the thought. “Pardon?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I need a baseline for the testing. Having your blood is necessary to see the differences and compare.”

“I don’t want to be used in your experiments on her!” Wooyoung’s voice rises, glancing at you. “Sorry.”

“No need,” you shrug. Your arm is wrapped, Seonghwa already pricked you with the small needle. Bottles of your blood sit on the side, labeled with symbols you recognize from Unseelie literature scattered about. He didn’t say anything to you as he took it from you, passed you a sugary drink and a cookie. It would have been endearing if he didn’t look so frustrated while doing it. You debated on calling him out at the look but again, you’d rather not irritate a being you know nothing of. The Seonghwa you’ve met is gone. Replaced with this angry and quite bitter Unseelie.

“Why do you make everything so difficult,” Seonghwa rubs his forehead. “Why are you even standing there if you’re not willing to help-”

“I’ll volunteer.”

Another voice enters the conversation, your gaze moving to the man who just entered the room. He’s taller than Seonghwa, quite tall actually. His face is kind, brown eyes filled with glee as they look at you. Unlike Wooyoung’s teasing which seems a bit unnerving at times, his look is easy. As if his lips naturally sit in a small smile. He lifts his sleeve, stepping around Wooyoung.

“Nice to finally see the shining star. I’m Yunho,” he holds out his hand and you take it. You can’t help but notice how despite how you always insisted that your hands are pretty big, he just engulfs yours.

“Hi. I’m y/n.”

He laughs softly, “That I know.”

Wooyoung’s voice rises. “Wait-”

“We don’t have time for the back and forth with you,” Seonghwa murmurs, beckoning Yunho closer. “Next time just say you’re okay with it and move on.”

Wooyoung’s frown only seems to deepen. He huffs, glancing between all of you before exiting the room. The door slams quite loudly, unable to stop yourself from flinching.

“It’ll be quick, you already know what to do,” Seonghwa says. Without another word he slides the needle into Yunho’s skin. You notice that his blood is clear, a thicker consistency than yours. Seonghwa pulls out several vials of it, the silence growing. Just as quick as he began it’s over. He grabs the vials, glancing between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a moment, talk amongst yourselves.” He walks off, murmuring something about refrigeration.

Yunho’s gaze easily slides over to yours. “I’m sorry about Wooyoung. He gets a bit antsy when it comes to things like this. We are wary of sharing their blood.”

“Can I ask why?”

He nods. “You might know a bit about us already from interacting, but when it comes to our essence it is sacred. Faeries are sensitive to blood exchanges because it is only something you do with a fae you are mated to. The majority of us would never willingly give up our blood for something like this. That’s why Seonghwa didn’t offer himself, and why Wooyoung was so flabbergasted at the thought of your blood mixing with his. It’s a quite sensitive topic.”

“And yet…” You trail off. And yet you did it without a second thought.

“Mhm,” he agrees, still staring at you. “The others think you’re special. So I would love to have the honor to be the baseline for the experimentation,” he chuckles, sliding his sleeve back down. “Seonghwa isn’t coming back, by the way. He’s told me to guide you out the forest and back to your home.”

Trying to decipher the wording is too much for your tired mind to comprehend right now.

“Demanifestation again?” Your stomach lurches at the thought. You’re not sure you’d survive it a second time.

Yunho shakes his head quickly. “Never. Wooyoung is a fool to have done that to you. We’ll be traveling on foot. Your home isn’t too far away from where we reside. I just need to help you through the barrier.”

You agree, standing slowly. Yunho reaches out his arm and you take it, thanking him softly. The hallways are quiet as you walk through, glancing at him. You can see his gaze glued to one of the doors you pass by, giving you a quick smile as he picks up the pace. You exit their home, and he does the same as Wooyoung did. The forest warps, the home disappearing behind you.

“You can continue to walk straight. The forest will guide you home,” he says softly, bowing. “I wish I could accompany you, but some Unseelie has been making a bit of a mess in our home and I need to fix it before Hongjoong comes.”

Hongjoong. You’ve heard the name a few times. Enough so that you can guess he’s their leader of sorts. But you’ve involved yourself enough. “Thanks for helping me. Straight you said?”

He nods, “Straight. See you soon, y/n.” He turns on his heels, dissipating into the forest. You can only imagine what the town would say if you told them of this encounter. Staring at the spot he once was, you turn back around, walking straight.

Yunho winces at the noise, shutting the front door. All of the doors of the home are open, various items thrown carelessly on the hardwood floor. He notices that the door to the library is shut. Seonghwa has had enough of it, it appears. Yunho does not blame him in the slightest. He steps over the broken vases and torn books, head aching already.

“What an incompetent Unseelie. Thriving in chaos does not mean we want it all over our floors,” Seonghwa’s voice echoes through the hallway. Ah, perhaps he is trying to deal with it now?

Yunho steps around the corner, entering Wooyoung’s room. It’s in a dire state, clothing and potion spilled, sheets ripped in half. Just as Yunho steps through the threshold, he’s thrown against the wall. Wooyoung’s hand wraps around his neck, his claw digging into Yunho’s skin. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s the reason?” he says through struggling breaths. He pulls his hand off with ease, coughing. “Shit.”

“You are always there, always stealing things from me. Could you not rest? Why in every lifetime do you have to take her away from me?” His voice cracks at the end. Yunho’s brow furrows at his words, confusion mounting. “It is always you, everytime. You always ruin my fun.”

“You’re acting like a child because I willingly exchanged blood with the human?” Yunho scoffs. “You shouldn’t have made it such a pressing issue if you wanted to do it.”

“You…” Wooyoung points his hand at him, slowly dropping it. “Give me a chance this time. Don’t steal her from me again.”

“We’ve just met this woman, Wooyoung,” Yunho says. “She is not anyone else.”

His eyes narrow, “You know what I mean.”

The front door slams loudly. Yunho closes his eyes, knowing his headache will only grow once Hongjoong enters the room. He looks at Wooyoung, blinding slowly. “You can do whatever you want with her, I don’t care. The blood exchange is complete now. You’ll have to find another way to bond with her. Figure it out yourself,” he steps out the way, feeling the wrath of his leader just behind him. Hongjoong gives him a look and he does not bother saying anything else, leaving the room.

The door cracks against the frame as it shuts.

It’s been a few days since you’ve heard from the Unseelie. You’ve been on edge all the while, tensing everytime the bell rings against the door. Only your fellow townsfolk have entered your shop now, picking up essentials and other things they need. The talk about Soobin has significantly decreased, much to your surprise. You expected for the talk to continue until the end of time. Or maybe they’re just not saying it to your face this time. You still look at your phone every time it rings, hoping to see an unknown number. You answer every time, waiting for the soft voice of Soobin on the opposite side. Instead it’s mostly robocalls. The sinking feeling has not gone away when it comes to him.

Why would he leave you?

The bell rings, and you barely glance at the door. You turn around to place a book on the shelf, dropping the one you have in your hand. He catches it with two fingers, holding it out to you. Taking a step back, you take it from him.

Wooyoung’s barely a foot in front of you, hands tucked in his pockets. He grins, brows wiggling. “Long time no see, solaris.”

He’s wearing casual clothing quite similar to Seonghwa’s wear. Instinctively, you glance down at his feet. He wears shoes this time. In fact, you’re sure you’ve seen Seonghwa wear the exact same outfit. He catches your eye, slipping from the aisle and standing in the middle of the store.

“You like?” he asks, spinning in a circle quickly. “I dressed Seonghwa in my clothes whenever he visited you. He only had those strange trench coats. Stuck out like a sore thumb.” He does the same, thumb in the air for emphasis.

You place your book on the shelf, not sure what to say to him. “Didn’t expect to see you,” you admit. “I thought Yunho or Seonghwa would come around again.”

“Seonghwa won’t dare enter human owned land again after his brief experience,” Wooyoung says. “He hates it. And Yunho isn’t really permitted to leave our land unless he’s given explicit permission. Me on the other hand,” he tilts his head. “I allow myself to enter whenever and wherever I’d like.”

They seem more restricted than you previously thought, minus Wooyoung. How he’s roaming around while - even as briefly as you’ve met him - Yunho not being able to, is a bit strange. The difference in temperament is noticeable. You saw how Seonghwa physically relaxed while taking blood from Yunho. The friendly giant feels more human-like than Wooyoung ever did.

“Why are you here?” You ask, pushing your cart into the next aisle. “Does Seonghwa need me for something?”

“Can’t I just come and visit you, solaris? Is that such a crazy idea?”

“Crazy no. Weird, yes.” You glance at him, eye twitching when you see his leg resting on the loveseat. “You act like you haven’t been around us in thousands of years. I can’t see why you’d want to hang out in a bookstore when there’s so many places in town to go to.”

“The bookstore is the only place that has the sun,” he shrugs.

“You say even stranger things,” you murmur. “And would you stop calling me that?”

“No,” he says immediately.

All you can do is sigh, continuing to place books on your shelves. Wooyoung interrupts you every now and then, either poking fun at you, or telling you another fact about them. Apparently, they’re the only group of Unseelie in town. Unseelie are rare in the faerie species, most eradicated by Seelie. He states the fact with a bit of a somber look in his eyes.

“There were thousands of us at one point,” he explains. “Then the Great War happened. Years ago, so far beyond your comprehension. So many of us fought to the death to survive. The hatred for each other runs quite deep. Most of the time when we stumble upon each other it ends in death. Now that our numbers have dropped so low - we’re not even sure how many of us are left now. Our species of faerie is dying.”

“Is that why Seonghwa is persistent in finding out why I am the way I am?” You ask, and he nods.

“If humans are developing resistance to our abilities, we will die. And not just Unseelie. Faeries as a whole thrive off of human auras. Having that removed from our societies will be detrimental. Mermaids, Seelie, Cave dwellers, Unseelie - so many of us will be gone. If there is a way to prevent that from happening we would do anything for it. But,” he shrugs. “None of us are majikians. Majik can only take us so far. Even if we find a cure, we’re in a new world. Humans will eventually discover us in masses. There will be a war, that I know of. Then Unseelie will be completely eradicated. We will be nothing.”

He twists his body to look at you. “That is why you are my solaris. My sun. You are capable of bringing us life and prosperity. You are also capable of destroying everything we have ever known. Right now you shine brightly. Let us hope that you continue to.”

“I didn’t know this was so important.” Is all that you say.

“Would you have if I didn’t just tell you?” his brow raises. “I’m not here to convince you either way. You would have to come with me whether you’d prefer it or not. It’s just nice to give you some background,” he gets up from his seat, moving around the shop. “It’s quaint here. Small town places always make me feel warm inside.”

The sudden shift of conversation is something you should get used to around them. “Soobin designed it that way. He’s been wanting this place for a while. It’s his home.”

“Soobin is your partner,” he states. Your back is turned, so you don’t see the shift in his expression. How terrifying it would be to see the ghost of a grin on his lips. “He’s not around anymore.”

You take his statements as questions. “Yeah, he is. Well, was. We had a disagreement and…” You stop in your talking. “You should know already, I’m sure Seonghwa told you about it.”

“He did, I just like hearing you talk. It’s much more soothing than his irritated, quick words everytime he speaks to me,” he murmurs. “Why aren’t you afraid?” he asks after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Before,” he slowly walks up to the opposite side of the counter, sitting on the stool. “You were afraid of me when I showed up. I heard your heart beating against your chest, but it’s silent now,” he raises a brow. “What changed?”

“You said I was in no danger with you,” you say, and he nods, waiting for you to continue. “I didn’t see a reason to continue to be scared, so …”

“That is perfect then,” he smiles, resting his head against his palm. “I’m glad you feel that way. I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore-” He stops, turning around. This time your heart does rattle against your chest. His teasing is gone, sliding off the chair. The door swings open, bell ringing. You cannot see the door from where you are, the opposite side of the store covered by the wide shelves. Not skipping a beat, Wooyoung turns to you.

“Hide. Now.”

You immediately turn, heading to the back office. Despite how much you want to turn around and look, you don’t. You hear a loud crash, the sound echoing through you. Your back office door is open and you enter, shutting it and locking it behind you. There aren't many places to hide in this room, except for exiting the store through the door. Hearing Wooyoung’s words in your head, it wouldn’t be safe for you to just leave. But there’s people out there. It’s evening. Whatever is here wouldn’t attack out in the open, right? Taking the chance, you swing the door open.

The figure standing there is terrifying enough to make you halt your escape. Its claws grip your throat, pushing you back against the back wall as it enters. Wide, golden streaks dripped down its pale body, several limbs severed and dragging along the floor behind it. Its touch is cold, nails sinking into your skin. You can’t say a word even if you wanted to, fear unlike anything you’ve ever experienced sinking into you. Its mouth opens, rows of jagged teeth lining its jaw, stench horrid.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” it hisses. Its finger slips, ripping your skin even more. You cry, hands gripping the one on your neck. It leans forward. You cannot tell whether it’s looking at you or not, holes where eyes would usually be.

“This is what they were floundering over. This is what the Unseelie are concerned about,” It spat, “Weak just like the other filthy humans.”

Its mouth stretches, the hole large enough to swallow you whole. Tears roll down your cheeks. You feel its spit drip against your forehead. Just as you have accepted your fate, you’re thrown out of the creature’s hand, body slammed against the floors.

“Repulsive.” Yunho holds the creature against the far wall, face twisted in disgust. The look is unfamiliar to you, already used to the warm gaze he shot you. He grips its neck, twisting it harshly to the side. The sound of bone and flesh being torn apart fills the air. It’s enough to make you look away. The distraction is gone, pain increasing rapidly as you look down at your injuries.

“Yunho shouldn’t be here,” Another voice appears. Seonghwa looks around the room, eyes immediately roaming over your figure. “Hell.” His body is soaked in what you can only assume is blood, immediately crouching down over you. “Think you can stand?”

You nod. You rest your hands on either side of your body, muscles straining to lift yourself up. Seonghwa merely sighs, reaching out an arm and pulling you up with ease. You stumble, pressing yourself against his chest. He doesn’t say anything more, lifting you into his arms. Your eyes roam behind him, Yunho’s face unrecognizable as he rips the being apart. Wooyoung must have entered without your knowledge, pulling his friend off the creature.

“Relax Yunho – it’s in ruins now. You don’t have to continue.” He pulls on Yunho’s arm again, this time thrown back against the floor at his attempt. Yunho does not bother turning around, continuing to rip into the thing.

“Fuck off, Wooyoung.”

“Time to get Mingi,” he sighs, glancing back at you. His brows contort in worry, “Oh my solaris, it stole your shine.”

“Get him under control enough, Mingi should be arriving soon,” Seonghwa helps you through the door, easily carrying you. You notice townspeople walking, none bothering to glance your way. Too tired to question it, your body slumps in his arms.

“The Seelie almost tore you apart,” he starts, waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street. “Wooyoung called for us just in time. Ah, your neck,” he winces as he looks at it. He lifts a hand and lightly touches your skin, mumbling words underneath his breath. “That should seal it up enough. We’re almost there.”

Your mind is too clouded with the events to give him a response. He takes it in stride, stepping into the forest. You aren’t sure how long it has taken to get to their home, but you see the familiar woods, trees gathered around the house that sits in between. He says something to another in passing, stepping into the library and shutting the door behind him. Seonghwa places you in a seat.

His hand lightly touches your temple, exhaustion slowly fading away. You blink quickly, glancing around. The room is lined with glass, contents unknown. He turns around to grab a small case, finger dragging across the surface. Inside are several bandages and other first-aid kit items. You want to thank him but your mouth is dry. Only a small wheeze escapes your lips. He glances back at you, wiggling his pointer finger.

“It is a binding spell. No words can escape until I let it be so. The claws of that Seelie dug in deep. If you speak, it may only worsen your condition.”

He rests on one knee, humming to himself. The jar he has in his hand is written in unknown scripture. He picks up the ointment with two fingers, slowly brushing it against your skin. “This is toad puss. Disgusting name and scent, but it will seal your wound much quicker than ordinary human antibiotics. Ah,” he glances behind you. “Took you long enough to arrive.”

You cannot twist your neck, moreso out of fear of tearing your skin. Wooyoung appears beside Seonghwa, glancing over your wounds. “The Seelie almost shredded her. I looked around the bookstore as I cleaned up but there was no sign of any carvings. There’s nothing on her body either. I’m not sure why they came or how they found her. ”

“Us, silly,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He grabs the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your neck. “One of the Seelie found out that we knew of a human like her. They followed one of us, or both of us, and located where she resides. Though I don’t know for sure if they followed you today and or followed me weeks ago. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Her bookstore is compromised.”

“Then what do we do?” Wooyoung asks, eyes still on yours.

“We talk to Hongjoong.”

You can see how his body deflates immediately. “But –”

“He’ll be furious, yes, but we need to tell him that the Seelie are back. And what steps we take from there. Actually, I think I heard him rummaging around his room. After I get her fixed up, I’ll go speak to him. I’m sure he’s already listening in on our conversation anyway.”

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything else, but you can see how Seonghwa’s words weigh heavy on him. You wish you could speak up for yourself. Your mind is leaning towards yelling at them for putting you in this mess in the first place. Wooyoung leaves without another word, the tap of the door closing behind him.

“What a mess,” Seonghwa sighs. He looks at you, humming again. “You are probably furious right now, aren’t you?”

You nod, and he merely laughs.

"Well you might as well get used to it. No such thing as happy endings for demonic creatures like us. Unfortunately for you, you’re now associated," he rips off the gauze wrapping with his teeth, spitting flyaway pieces to the side. His fingers slowly lift your leg. His touch is soft in comparison to his words, glancing at your face for any signs of discomfort. Not seeing one, he continues. "We Unseelie exist to balance the universe. We are not inherently evil, no. But our mere presence is distasteful, disastrous. We cannot feed without hurting humans, we cannot survive without interfering in your lives. We breathe chaos. It is all we've known and all we'll ever know – oh, did that hurt?" His voice is soft for a brief moment, seeing your brow furrow at his pressure. "Tight?"

You don’t say anything. His eyes widen for a moment, fingers brushing against a sliver of skin peeking out from the bandages on your neck. “Apologies. I was wondering why you remained so quiet.”

Your voice escapes you, quite low. "I’m fine."

He narrows his eyes but continues, much slower this time. You're not sure where this conversation stems from, but you don't dare interrupt. It's the most any of them have spoken to you about their kind. "It's not like a human would understand that it's natural for us. We enjoy killing because it is in our nature. We cannot live without it. It's a shame, really. So many Unseelie have tried to pull away, tried to stop killing. But all attempts have failed. Each one has died in the process. It is like if humans decided to stop feeding on plants and meat and decided to eat air instead. It won't work. It's unsustainable."

"I understand."

He pauses. "No, you don't. Not really."

You clear your throat. "Who are we to tell you what to do? We've considered ourselves the top of the food chain for so long, we can't think of something stronger or faster or wiser than us. What am I to do? Kill off every faerie I see?"

He nods. "That's what many human hunters have done. What many have decided to do over centuries."

"But not me."

His eyes flick between yours, expression unreadable. You don't bother to fill the silence and neither does he, hooking the gauze together with a small metal clip. You think the conversation is over, until he speaks up again.

"You are a strange one. It is of no wonder so many of us admire you."

“What –”

"It is funny what humans think of us,” he interrupts, not allowing you to comment though you desperately want to. “There is no good versus evil. Despite how much we hate the rigidness of the Seelie, they are faeries just like us. But they are not innately good just as we are not innately evil. If the world was that simple, we would have been eradicated long ago," Seonghwa muses. "Us Unseelie value chaos, sacrifice. We fight for our positions when necessary, and enjoy power. Though we all dislike humans, perhaps hate in some cases, we do welcome you. Even if it is temporary. Just because we live in forestry hills does not mean our heads are filled with dirt."

"Do you like me then?"

He grins. "I enjoy you as an experiment if that would make you feel a bit better."

"Ecstatic," you murmur.

"Well you know we cannot lie, so it must give you some reprieve. Unfortunately for us, you can lie," his eyes narrow. "What is your ex-partner's name again? Soobin?"

You say nothing. Allowing him into your head, letting him question you – it is exactly what you should not do when meeting a faerie.

"Ignoring my words?"

"You should know why I am."

He narrows his gaze, "Filthy humans and their silly rules."

"They keep us safe."

"They ruin the fun we have,” he sighs. “I can’t have you back at that bookstore, or your home,” Seonghwa stands, fingers dragging through his hair. “It’s no longer safe for you. You’ll have to stay with us for now.”

You want to debate with him, want to say that you’d rather tough it out and deal with it on your own. But you cannot forget how utterly terrified you were when that Seelie attacked. How you froze. If they weren’t there, you would’ve been long gone by now. Your family would mourn your disappearance, desperate for answers that you wouldn’t have been able to give them. Perhaps wondered if you left with Soobin, wherever he went.

It’s not something you’d ever want.

“Okay.”

He nods. “Okay then.”

He stands, about to leave. "Seonghwa."

He turns around.

"Before, Wooyoung was telling me how you would never enter the human owned land again because you despised it. But you did today. Why is that?"

A strange look crosses his face. "Wooyoung told you such words?"

You nod. "He did."

A breathy laugh follows suit, "That seems like something he would do. I'll set up your temporary room and be back." Seonghwa doesn't say another word, exiting the room. His avoidance of the question only creates more confusion.

“You are all making a fuss for a human you don’t even know. Curiosity can only stretch so far. What else are you going to do? Sacrifice yourselves so that she can live? This is more than silly. It’s stupid.”

Hongjoong paces back and forth in the library, Seonghwa flipping through several documents to see if there is any solution to what’s happening now. If he can find some semblance of an answer, perhaps she wouldn’t have to stay at all. But as of now he has found nothing of consequence. Nothing to stop the Seelie from coming after you.

“If the Seelie are after her and want to kill her, then there’s something there. Why give up now?” Seonghwa says, barely looking up from his literature. “It doesn’t have to involve you if you don’t want it to. We can keep her away from this side of the house.”

“That’s not my point and you're more than the wiser to understand that."

“Then what is?”

“You are undermining me,” Hongjoong’s eyes narrow. “You all made me the leader of our spark. And it is my duty to protect us all from harm. Ever since this human has come around, things have been happening. You should have just killed it when you first stumbled across it. And now Yunho is all out of sorts and Mingi has to watch him. Seelie have emerged again. None of this is okay.”

Seonghwa merely rolls his eyes. “We are Unseelie, we’re trained for this.”

Hongjoong stops pacing, shaking his head. “We are very few in number, Seonghwa. We cannot risk our extinction. Not for a useless human. Once the news has spread that you three have killed Seelie, there will be war. There is only so much I can protect us from.”

“We can protect ourselves. And it is too late anyway,” Seonghwa says simply. “We killed the Seelie for a reason.”

“You could have let them kill her and we would have had this problem eradicated.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hongjoong pauses. He stares at his friend, his mate. Seonghwa does not often express his care. Has not for a while. “Unless you care for it?”

Seonghwa frowns. “Stop suggesting silly things.”

“Say you don’t care for it and I’ll believe you.”

Seonghwa stares at him, desperate for the words to escape him. But his true nature prevents him from doing so. He can only hope that Hongjoong does not push the issue further. He’s already dealt with endless pestering today. He thought he'd at least get a bit of reprieve from Hongjoong. Instead he is only being scowled. It's no wonder he actively avoids his presence every chance he gets.

“Say it, Seonghwa.”

“Haven’t we all irked him enough today?” Yunho enters the room, Wooyoung close behind. Not seeing Mingi hanging around is a bit odd, but neither of them mention it. “Pestering him about this is a mute point. We all have to keep an eye on her for now. Until all of this is settled. Maybe we should pick up the talks tomorrow.”

Seonghwa grabs the book he has in his hand and leaves the room, Hongjoong exiting in the opposite direction. Yunho sighs softly, exhaustion riddling his body. He doesn’t acknowledge Wooyoung trailing behind him, lounging on the long sofa. Said Unseelie paces around his resting figure, picking at the skin by his nails.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Yunho murmurs, one lid opening to look at his friend. “I’m okay now.”

Wooyoung sits in front of him, head pressed against his thigh. Yunho reaches down, fingers massaging Wooyoung’s scalp. It's a common routine. Anytime he's overwhelmed, Yunho hears the soft tapping of his knuckles against his bedroom door. Most times he needs the comfort of their bodies against one another's, breathes mingled in the low light. But this is one of those rare moments that Yunho isn't able to provide such a comfort. His mind is too consumed with thoughts unlike his own. And Wooyoung seems to know it as well, trembling underneath the scratch of Yunho's nails against his scalp.

He lets out a long breath, looking up at his mate. Yunho's eyes look heavy. Exhausted. “It is not her I am worried about right now, Yunho. I shouldn’t have called you.” Wooyoung starts.

“You only thought of the first person on your mind. It’s alright.”

“It should have been Mingi or Jongho first. We all know how these things affect you and I messed up again. Much, much worse than last time.”

Yunho's fingers pause in combing his hair. A horrid reminder. He swallows slowly, pushing those thoughts away.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho shakes his head. “You can’t continue to blame yourself. The past is the past.”

He closes his eyes, lower lip trembling. “You could have lost yourself completely. Yunho, Mingi had to injure you to stop you. I should know what to do when you’re like that, I should be able to stop you–”

"Your presence was enough."

He shakes his head. "The Seelie was barely recognizable. It was a pile of mashed flesh –"

“Hey, stop,” he pulls his fingers from his hair, resting on the bottom of his chin. His strength is barely used as he tilts his head up to look at him. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I can’t tell you to stop thinking about it because I know you and I know you will, but I’m okay, Woo. I’m fine. Please don't let those thoughts burden you. You could not pull me out of it, but it's not your fault. I listened to your call. I decided to come. I could have told one of the others first. It was my choice.”

"Yun…"

"Mmm," He lets go of his chin, arms opening. Wooyoung wastes no time in sinking into his embrace, chest rising and falling calmly. "I'm okay."

“Are you sure?” His voice is softer this time. His fingers dig deeply into the fabric of his blouse. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Unseelie can’t lie.”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, Yunho’s warm laugh echoing around the room. “Fine. I am okay, and I’m not lying to you.”

"Promise?" He's persistent, hands cupping Yunho's face. "Promise me?"

"I promise, pretty faerie."

Wooyoung hides himself in the sleeve of Yunho’s shirt. "You're trying to distract me."

"It seems to be working," Yunho teases.

They enjoy each other's silence, Wooyoung lifting his head up again. "I'm sorry for before. For getting angry at you like that. I just let my feelings overtake me and blew up. I'm sorry."

"Already forgiven."

"You shouldn't, though. I hurt you," Wooyoung's eyes roam Yunho's neck. Though he has already healed, the puncture marks of his claws are still scars against his skin. Wooyoung leans up, pressing his lips lightly against the risen skin, Yunho's body trembling beneath the touch. "I hurt you."

"You can't help it."

"But I didn't try to stop myself."

"The human brings out the worst in us, it seems."

Wooyoung laughs, the sound not at all reaching his eyes. He ponders for a moment. "I like her."

Yunho takes his words with hesitance. It's been very apparent since he's seen you that Wooyoung has grown a soft spot for you. Though he can't quite understand how it happened so quickly. The Unseelie has barely spent more than a day with you. "I know."

"I want her to like me too."

"Good luck with that."

He frowns. "She will like me, Yunho."

"I know. You're too easy to like, Wooyoung. She will eventually feel the same as you."

"You think?" he gives Yunho a toothy grin.

"I know."

—

You sit on the porch, staring out into the night. The breeze is quieter than before, whistling through the branches and leaves. The throbbing pain in your neck has subsided greatly. You can only thank Seonghwa silently, fingers brushing against the gauze tight on your neck. You can still see the way that Seelie looked at you, the ferocity in its eyes. How easily it could have snapped you in half if it truly wanted to. Have you brought this all upon yourself? Letting Seonghwa creep into your life? Was the loneliness too much to bear that you've attached yourself to the next person who was a bit kinder to you? You rub your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly.

"Pathetic," you mumble, tucking your knees close to your chest. Your desperation for a reason why Soobin left you alone led you here. Stuck in a house filled with mythical beings. None of which care for you. You should have just gone home once he disappeared. Maybe then you wouldn't be stuck here. The stinging feeling in your throat burns. You hold it back. You can't cry. Not here. Not around them.

"Thoughts fogging your mind so deeply that you didn't hear me knock?"

You look up, Wooyoung's head peeking out from the overhang on the porch. His hair is wild, flowing in the breeze. He takes your non answer as acceptance of his presence, dropping down from the roof to sit on the railing. He tilts his head as he stares down at you. "You look upset."

"I'm stuck in a place I don't know with people I don't know because creatures I don't know are attacking me for a reason I don't know. So yes, maybe I'm just a little upset about my circumstances."

"You do know why they attacked you," he points out. "They want you dead."

"Reassuring," you give him a half smile. "Thanks for that."

"I'm… I'm not trying to get on your bad side, solaris. I'm trying to make you like me. I want you to be comfortable around me."

"You shouldn't care how I feel about you, Wooyoung. You've already done your job luring me here. Now leave me alone."

His lips frown, sighing softly. "What else can I do to help?"

"Is it not enough that you've trapped me here? I would thank you for saving my life, but you all are the reason those things came after me. I would have lived normally without your meddling. Seonghwa should have…" He should have killed you and gotten it over with.

"You don't mean that." He looks at you with such a pitiful, worried look that for a moment, you believe in his concern. Believe that he actually is upset for you. But you know it's not at all true. You know it's another ploy to make you feel comforted by him, by them. And you're not foolish, no. Unseelie do not care for humans.

They never will.

"I do."

"Solaris–"

"And call me by my name, Wooyoung." You slowly stand up, ignoring his hand reaching out to steady you. "Now goodnight." You slowly limp towards the French doors, shutting them behind you. You stare into his eyes as you turn the lock, shutting the curtains.

#fic: wonderwall #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #briefly:#jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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