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aquaticmercy · 2 months ago

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In Another Life

Summary : Bucky is certain you only see him as a friend. It only took him travelling to a different reality to realise otherwise.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : slight cursing, very slight suggestion of sex, Yelena being a third wheel, and multiversal travel!!!

Requested by : anon

Word count : 3.9k

Note : This was really fun to write. And yes, I slipped Yelena into this because I can. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

“I’ll miss you,” you mumbled as Bucky handed you a knife to sharpen. As he sat there in your living room, the evening light reflected on your curtains, casting a soft shadow across his face. You sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder, so close yet not quite close enough. He had asked if he could come over the day before his mission, claiming he needed help sharpening his knives. He has said ‘no one sharpens knives as good as you’. To some degree, you both knew it wasn’t the only reason he was here.

“Weren’t we supposed to see that new World War II exhibit at the museum tomorrow?” you asked, your voice riddled with a tinge of disappointment.

“We were,” Bucky admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. If there was one thing he hated, it was letting you down, especially over a mission he couldn’t refuse.

“Who does Strange think he is anyway— that lunatic wizard?” you quipped, with a little gossipy tone. “Showing up at your doorstep and just… demanding you drop everything last minute?”

A small smile tugged at Bucky’s lips, enjoying this sassy part of you. “It's a bit annoying, but I can’t exactly turn him down.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch as you worked. “What’s so important that he needs you and Yelena for, anyway? This isn't one of those ‘end of the world’ things, is it?”

Strange had basically asked him to commit theft, and not just any theft— he wanted Bucky to steal something from a multiversal variant of himself in another reality.

Still, Strange had made it sound urgent. It would be most obvious to partner him with you, since you were proven to work well together, but you had just returned from another mission in Antarctica. Both Bucky and Strange knew you needed time to recover.

That left Yelena and Sam. Sam, with his unmovable sense of duty, would’ve questioned every detail and repercussion. He was growing more and more into his Captain America mantle, and that wasn’t a bad thing— it was just inconvenient sometimes. Yelena, on the other hand, would do what needed to be done and ask fewer questions, which was why Strange approached her instead.

If the mission worked out, Bucky would have earned himself a favour owed by one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. That was a card he couldn’t afford to pass up.

Bucky hesitated, feeling the familiar weight of secrets settle on his shoulders. “It’s classified,” he finally said, which was technically true. He didn’t want to trigger your anxieties with the details, especially when he didn’t fully understand the whole multiverse mess himself.

You gave a small nod. You’d been around the hero-type for so long to know there were things you weren’t always allowed to know. Even though you were laser-focused on sharpening another knife, you could tell something was off.

“Are you okay?” you asked, watching his fingers dance along one of the blades, tension flowing through his body like a wave he cannot tame.

He didn’t answer immediately, but you could see the conflicting spark in his eyes. He didn’t mind the danger. But the multiverse, something that was so unknown to him? That was a different kind of fear.

He didn’t want to leave things unsaid with you. Not when there was a chance he might not come back.

He called your name softly. “Can I talk to you?”

There was something in the way your name left his lips that made your chest tighten. Bucky wasn’t the nervous type—not with you, anyway. Your hands stilled on the sharpening stone. “Of course,” you said, setting the tools aside.

He took a deep breath, glancing down at his hands, gathering the courage to speak. “You mean a lot to me,” he started, his voice low but steady.

Your heart skipped a beat. Bucky’s hands reached out to gently clasp yours, the cool metal was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his human hand. It was such a Bucky thing to do, to find a simple, human way to connect, even as he struggled with the mechanical parts of him.

“I need to tell you—”

A loud, insistent knock thundered the door, startling both of you. Bucky’s fingers slipped from yours as you turned towards the sound.

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, standing up.

“Yelena?” Bucky echoed, blinking in confusion.

“Did I not tell you?” you asked, biting your lip. “When you asked if you could come over, I asked if she needed her knives sharpened too. She did, so I invited her. I hope that’s okay?”

Bucky’s heart sank, but he forced himself an unreadable expression. Of course, You’d invited someone else. Maybe it wasn’t the right time to say what he wanted to say, if it ever was. In fact, maybe this was a sign to never tell you.

You invited Yelena, your friend. Which probably meant he was also a friend—just a friend. It probably meant you would never see him as something more.

Before he could respond, you were already at the door, revealing the deadly assassin packed into a 5 '4 vessel of human fury. She gave you a sisterly smile in greeting before her eyes landed on Bucky.

“Hello, Bucky,” she said, her russian accent a little too cheerful as she dropped a heavy duffel bag on the wooden floor with an echoing thud.

“Yelena,” Bucky replied, somewhat coldly. He didn’t dislike Yelena. He knew better than to make an enemy of her. Besides, they had saved each other’s life before. But at that moment, he resented her.

He resented that she had unknowingly interrupted something he might never get the chance to finish.

“Drink?” you offered, already heading towards the kitchen.

“Just water,” Yelena shrugged, flopping down into the armchair with the casual confidence of someone who could kill you with both hands behind her back. As you left the room, Yelena turned her mischievous gaze to Bucky, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“I’m not third-wheeling today, am I?” she teased, pulling out a couple of dull knives and placing them on the table in front of her.

Bucky’s ears burned red. “Shut up.”

Yelena chuckled, twirling a knife like a baby would play with their dummy. “I can see the way you look at her, you know. If you put half as much effort into flirting as you do into those knives, you might actually get somewhere.”

He clenched his jaw, the frustration building. He hated the insinuation that he wasn't trying. But now? He might stop. He might just give up because clearly, he was a friend to you, the way Yelena was a friend. “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, it is when I’m sitting here watching you blow your chance, Barnes.” Yelena’s tone softened, just a touch, before she glanced in the direction of the kitchen. “She’s oblivious, but she cares.”

Bucky stared down at the knife in his hands, knowing he had to deal with this teasing all day tomorrow. A constant reminder that he will always be too afraid to tell you. “It’s not that simple.”

Before Yelena could respond, you returned with glasses of water in hand, completely unaware of the exchange between the widow and the soldier in your absence. You handed Yelena the glass with a smile and settled back down beside Bucky, completely oblivious to his racing heart.

—

The multiverse… wasn’t as confusing as Bucky had expected it to be.

Sure, he didn’t understand how it functioned or what the exact mechanics were—something about a teenager named America Chavez punching a star-shaped hole through space-time. Or something like that.

But what really threw him off was how familiar this reality felt, how similar it was to his own. The streets, the neighbourhood, the people, the world around him—it was all the same, yet different in subtle, uncanny ways he couldn't quite point out.

America had opened the portal in an alley near Bucky's apartment in this different reality. After he and Yelena stepped through, America warned them: "I will open a portal again in two hours. Don’t miss the window." America was still so young, but she had a grim seriousness in her voice. Bucky wondered what her story was.

Now, Bucky and Yelena sat perched on a fire escape across from his own apartment—or, at least, a version of it. It was the same address as his was in his reality. The mission was simple: retrieve an artefact that belonged to this variant of Bucky—a blue stone embedded in a gold ring—from his apartment in this reality. Strange had briefed them on it: the ring was a powerful protection charm, and he needed it.

He just had to wait until his variant went out for his daily run, slip inside, find the ring, and get out. Yelena would be backup, keeping watch in case things went south. Maybe in case the variant of him decided to return early.

“I can’t imagine your girlfriend approves of this dangerous multiverse stuff,” Yelena quipped, resting her sniper rifle on the edge of the fire escape. “She’s very protective of you.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned bright red. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he muttered, though the title felt strange on his lips.

“Whatever,” Yelena grinned, clearly unconvinced.

Only thirty minutes later, variant Bucky stepped out of the apartment for his run.

“Radio silence unless it’s an emergency,” Bucky instructed before slipping his earpiece in, turning it on. He didn’t want distractions. Not today.

Sliding off the fire escape, Bucky quickly made his way to the apartment. To his surprise, his keys worked just fine. No need for breaking in. As he stepped inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being somewhere both familiar and alien.

Everything was almost identical— just almost. The couch was a lighter shade of blue, the TV a different brand, though it looked the same. It was like staring into an uncanny mirror of his own life.

Focus. He needed to find the ring.

He began searching the usual spots—safes, drawers, anywhere he’d hide something important in his own apartment. But no luck. Think, Barnes, he thought to himself, where would you put a protection charm?

Then, something caught his eye— a framed photo on the mantle of his fireplace that wasn’t supposed to be there. A photo of him and… you.

His breath hitched. It wasn’t just any photo. You were kissing his cheek, a lake in the background. The warmth in your smile, the easy comfort between you both... It was a picture he'd never seen in his reality.

Were you together in this one?

Suddenly, everything clicked. The extra clothes in the closet, the toiletries. In his reality, you had a drawer in his apartment, since you stayed over sometimes, as a friend. But this? This was different. Here, you shared a life.

He spotted a camera, instantly recognizing it as the same model you had back in his reality. He knew he should stay focused on finding the charm, but curiosity got the best of him. Before he could stop himself, he turned it on, eyes shifting through the photos. Image after image appeared—of him and you together. Holidays, long walks, intimate dinners. Kisses and comfortable hugs.

His chest tightened with a hollow ache of jealousy. Was this what he could have? What he might be missing?

Before he could process the feeling, a buzz in his earpiece snapped him back to reality.

Yelena’s voice came through, saying your name urgently.

“What?” Bucky asked. Why would Yelena say your name like that?

“She’s here. She’s entering the building.”

Panic surged through him like a thunderbolt. “Don’t shoot her,” he ordered.

“Yeah, didn’t plan to,” Yelena answered, annoyed that he thought she was thinking of it, “but what are you gonna do? She has keys.”

Of course she does, Bucky thought, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. Frozen in his place, his mind raced. What now?

Suddenly, the door opened, and there you were, a version of yourself he had never met before.

“Buck?” the variant of you said, startled, eyes widening. “I thought you’d still be on your run. And why are you wearing your tactical suit?”

You closed the door behind, placing your bag on the couch.

“I—” he stammered, completely unprepared for this, unable to move. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound tangled in his throat. He glanced at your hand. There, on your finger, was the ring. The protection charm.

Of course. He should have known. He’d do anything to protect you.

His mind spun with conflicting emotions— jealousy of his own variant, longing for you back home, and guilt that he was even here.

You took a step closer, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not that I’m complaining about the tactical suit... You know I like it when you wear it to bed.” You flirted with a tender laugh, that soft sound that always made his heart stutter filling the air around him.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as you leaned in. It would be so easy to give in, to just pretend for a moment that this was his life, that this variant of you was his. To feel your lips on his.

His hand twitched at his side, wanting to grip your waist, to pull you closer. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let this continue.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stopping you. “I can’t,” he whispered, voice strained. “There’s nothing I want more. But I can’t.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. The variant of you pulled back, studying him more closely now, noticing the subtle changes. There was a subtle scar on his neck that wasn’t there before. “You’re not my Bucky, are you?”

Yelena’s voice crackled in his earpiece again. She had been able to hear everything. “Bucky, I know she’s your weakness, but we need that ring. Do not tell her—”

Bucky switched the earpiece off, ignoring Yelena’s warning. He’d deal with that later. You deserved better than half-truths.

“This is Strange’s doing, isn’t it?” you asked, taking the revelation surprisingly well. “I thought he was done with all this multiverse shit.”

He nodded, guilt twisting in his chest. “Yeah. But… not your Strange. Mine.”

Silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken words. The variant of you looked at him carefully, as if searching for a trace of the Bucky you knew.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved.”

“What does Strange want?” you asked, frowning. “And why is he sending my fiancé to do his dirty work?”

Bucky blinked. Fiancé? His heart stuttered. That ring wasn’t just a charm. It was your engagement ring.

You noticed his shock. “We are engaged in your reality, right?”

He swallowed hard. “No. I—I haven’t even told you, uh, her… how I feel.”

A soft chuckle escaped you. “So, all the Buckys are like this then? Huh.”

Bucky’s heart raced, his mind still reeling from the idea that you— at least this version of you—were engaged to him in this reality. It was everything he wanted but didn’t have.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, guilt laced in his whimpering voice.

You tilted your head like you were trying to piece the puzzle pieces together and came to a conclusion that you were safe. As if you convinced yourself that no variant of Bucky would ever hurt any version of you.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “You’re still him. In some way.”

He wasn’t your Bucky, and yet, you spoke to him like he was. You spoke to him with the same compassion, the same love. His eyes flickered to your hand again—the ring.

Focus on the mission, he reminded himself. But how could he? Your eyes followed his stare, and it landed on the gold band around your finger. You let out a small but heavy sigh.

“Strange wants the ring, doesn't he?” you asked. Bucky nodded, feeling his heart twist in his ribs. He didn't want to take anything away from you.

“He said it’s a powerful protection charm.”

The variant of you stood still for a moment, “I know.” You gently slid the ring off your finger, holding it in your palm.

You stepped closer. “If Strange wants it, I know it has to be important. I trust that lunatic wizard— and I trust you.”

You were trusting him— this version of him who wasn’t even yours— with something so personal, something tied to your bond with his variant. “But, it's your engagement ring,” he said. He knew he got what he wanted, but he can't help but wonder why you gave it away so willingly. “I—Your Bucky gave this to you to protect you.”

The variant of you smiled, taking a necklace chain from under your shirt. There it was, the same stone that was on the ring also sat on your chest.

“My Bucky asked this reality’s Strange to split the gemstone,” the variant of you said, “He knows I have this tendency of misplacing my jewellery.”

Bucky can't help but chuckle. His version of you had that quirk, too.

“I’ll explain everything to my Bucky when he gets back. I know he’ll understand.” You hesitated giving him the ring for a second. “On one condition.”

His brow furrowed.

You gave him a knowing smile, one that was all too familiar. One that made his heart swarm. “Go back to your reality, and tell me—her how you feel.”

His heart twisted. He does not make promises he can't keep, especially not to you— any version of you. “I can’t—"

“You can,” you interjected with that stubbornness he knew and loved. “If she means anything to you, you will.”

He stared at you, and no words came out. All this time, he had kept his feelings hidden, afraid of losing you if he told the truth. But here, another version of you telling him to just suck it up.

Bucky’s voice wavered above a whisper. “What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

A soft laugh escaped your lungs, and you shook your head, knowing something he doesn’t. “Trust me, she does.”

He could tell that this variant of you knew him so well, even if you were from another universe. Slowly, he took the ring from your hand. It felt heavier than it should’ve, weighted with more than just its magic.

“I will tell her,” he whispered a promise, “thank you.”

You nodded, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

Bucky clenched his jaw, putting his earpiece back on.

“There you are,” Yelena’s voice crackled back into life. “Our window’s closing. We’ve got about ten minutes before the portal opens again. Move it.”

A shaky breath left his lungs. “Ring secured. On my way.”

He gave you one last look, his heart full of a thousand swirling emotions he couldn’t even begin to put a name to. “I hope your Bucky knows how lucky he is.”

The variant of you smiled. “I think he does.”

Without another word, Bucky slipped out of the apartment, the ring safely in his pocket.

—

Bucky had knocked on your door after the day of his mission. When he saw you, your name escaped his lips like a prayer as he hugged you.

Now, this was you. Not another version of you.

“Are you okay, Buck?” you chuckled.

Bucky held you a little tighter, his chest rising and falling against yours as he tried to ground himself in the present— this present reality. He pulled back slightly, eyes scanning your face like it was the first time he’d seen you in years. The both of you slipped into your apartment, closing the door.

“I missed you,” he admitted softly, though it had only been two days. The words now carried more weight than they ever had before. His mind was still reeling from the alternate reality, from the life he could have had with you, and from what the variant of you had told him. He found some comfort and confidence, knowing that there was a version of him out there who had done what he was too scared to do—tell you how he felt. It was his turn now.

You smiled, but concern flickered in your eyes as you noticed something different in his touch. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen on the mission?”

Bucky hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by again.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Bucky said, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you stayed silent, giving him the space to continue. You’d known him long enough to recognize when he was on the edge of an emotional breakthrough.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped closer, his fingers brushing the side of your arm. “I’ve been afraid of losing you if I told you…”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realised where this was going. You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I care about you more than anything,” he continued, his stormy blue eyes locking with yours, vulnerable and frail. “I’m in love with you, and I’ve been too scared to say it.”

Your breath caught itself before it left your lungs. You could feel the truth of his words in the way his voice wavered, in the intensity of his gaze, in the flutter of his touch.

“I’m sorry if this is too much, too fast,” Bucky added quickly, misreading your silence for rejection. He cursed at himself, wondering if the variant of you had been wrong. “If you don’t feel the same, I—”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and tentative at first, but as soon as your lips met his,the hesitations, the doubts, the fears all fell away.

Bucky’s metal hand settled at the small of your back, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. His soft lips moving against yours with a mix of relief and urgency, taking each other in for the first time as if it was your last. The warmth of your body against his, the way you fit perfectly in his arms— it was everything he could ever ask for.

You finally pulled back breathless, your foreheads rested against each other as you let the adrenaline settle.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I was just waiting for you to see it.”

Bucky chuckled softly.

You playfully shook your head. “I owe Yelena ten bucks.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“She was here yesterday night, after your mission,” you said, “She bet me that we’d be together by the end of the week. I took the bet because I didn't think you’d feel the same.”

Bucky let out a low laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing as a grin spread across his face. She had been pestering him after the mission yesterday, insisting on knowing what the variant of you had told him. But he had not volunteered any information to her. “Yelena knew before I even said anything? I’m losing my edge.” he teased himself, shaking his head.

“Please, Buck. She’s like a human lie detector,” you quipped, rolling your eyes fondly.

“Well, ten bucks is worth it, right?” he smiled.

You kissed him once more, short, sweet, and fleeting this time. It drew a giggle out of you, “Definitely.”

Maybe one day, he’d tell you about the mission, about the variant of you.

But for now, he only wanted to enjoy the moment.

-end

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literallyneurodivergentandaminor · 1 year ago

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my arms hurt :(

#official trigger warning for the tags i talk abt self harm #i warned you dog #//#i hate being me because ill be like lol no i dont hurt myself im healing and thenbite my arms until the toothprints stay for a day #and it stings and hurts for a week #but in the moment what else shoudl i do #i dont cut myself not cause i dont hurt myself but cause i dont want to be a burden #i dont want to stain the carpet with blood. i dont want to dirty the knives with my existence #i deserve this. i have not been shown i dont #i dont wan tto take up more space than i shohld i dont want to be a spectacle #i want to die but i dont want it to be known #dissapear in a way only i feel the pain #oops i may have derailed #i also punch and scrstch myself fun fact i stopped going to therapy cause my anxitey is getting worse and i cant make an appointment #FOR MY ANXIETY specifically #im gonna try n ask a friend to write the email for me i physically cannot do it without crying and or breaking stuff

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hmusunoo · 4 months ago

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

desc. │ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ ɪɴ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ɪꜱ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. ᴅᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʏ.

warnings. │ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴍᴅɴɪ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟꜱ.

pairing. │ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ!ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ᴜɴᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ/ɴᴇʀᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Laughter was contagious, it was similar to a disease in the way that it spread from person to person. Bubbling up inside of you and exploding out like an erupting volcano. Laughter rang throughout this classroom like a bell on a high tower ringing through town.

It had surrounded you, enveloping you in a blur. You huddled into yourself, hugging yourself felt like the only form of protection you'd get from all the prying eyes and explosive laughter that came from them.

You had been a jester in their court, the punchline to their very cruel cruel joke. The screen in front of the classroom displayed your demise. The ultimate downfall of you, not that you had much credibility to begin with but any single ounce of dignity you once held was all gone now, you were left a puddle of yourself. Tears formed in your eyes the utter humiliation of the situation eating you up inside. You should run away, break free from the confines of this classroom and the people that surrounded you but you couldn't quite find your footing.

You were frozen in place not an inch of your body able to move from its spot. Your eyes searched for Heeseung in this room that felt so massive but at the same time so very small. You found him in the corner of the room, eyes not meeting yours. You were silently pleading from him to help you, for him to speak up and defend you. But he wasn't moving, not a single inch.

Your heart was breaking you could feel your stomach drop to its very pit. On the screen displayed pictures, multiple of them. Some of you and heeseung and some of your text messages with. It also showed pictures that you had sent to heeseung in confidence. Not fully naked but pretty close to it. Your mortification could not even begin to be described. This would destroy you. It was actively destroying you.

The source of your downfall you might ask? Hwang Yeji. Yeji hated you for a reason entirely unknown to you. So much so that she decided to expose the hidden relationship you held with the resident popular boy Lee Heeseung. In the most humiliating way possible. Feigning a school presentation she took the time to display all your inner most intimate moments with the boy.

Worst of it all. Heeseung sat completely still in his spot, not uttering a single word as Yeji spewed her hate to all of the class. He did absolutely nothing to defend you much less himself. It hurt more than a million tiny little needles poking into your skin. A million knives driven into your heart.

"Oh!" Yeji laughed, turning to look at you a smile big on her face. "The nerd is crying... Heeseung baby, do you have anything to say to your little girlfriend here? The side piece I should say." She spoke with venomous intentions, the heat of her gaze piercing you.

"She's not my girlfriend." Heeseung muttered finally. It was the first thing he said during this entire ordeal. The first thing he decided to say was say was not in defendance of you, instead he was covering his own ass.

It furthered your humiliation by a tenfold. You curled into yourself hugging even tighter hoping and praying that you could just simply disappear. You had been invisible most of your life and most days you hated it, today was not one of those days. Today you wished for it, prayed for it even.

“What-“ You whispered out, sure that the broken look on your face would trigger some sort of warm emotion from him. It did not. Instead Heeseung looked at you with disgust. An expression you had never seen from him before, at least not directed towards you.

“Did you actually think for a second that i loved you?” He spit out. The words had split your heart in two, if you had thought you were broken before you were wrong. You were shattered now a million pieces of yourself.

More laughter had filtered the room furthering your need to flee. “See?” Yeji asked the same smirk that you hated so deeply graced her face. “He just needed a quick fuck when i wasn’t around.”

“It was more than that and you know it” You said weakly. Trying your very hardest to stand your ground. You could tell it wasn’t working, if anything it was making you look more feeble. Yeji laughed again you began to wonder if that was the only thing she was capable in doing.

"Come on y/n, I know you're not that stupid. A boy like Lee Heeseung would never love someone like you. You're a complete loser." The words hurt more than you'd like to admit. You wish that you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hurting you. She was winning this battle it was clear in the way you stood motionless. Letting her berate you as you stood there like a scared little stray dog. She was kicking you while you were down.

A sob bubbled up inside of you, pouring out of you uncontrollably no matter how much you wished to suppress it. It was no use. You were crying in front of more people than you could count. Each and every one of them reveling in your sheer humiliation.

It seemed that your body started to catch up with your mind and heart as you finally found the strength to run from the room. The sounds of the never ending laughter getting drowned out by your sobs and the hard beating of your footsteps against the school floor.

You emerged from the front doors of the school. The cold from the rain hitting your face and freezing your tears. It was mid December the bite from the cold had done nothing to calm the fiery storm that was brewing inside of you. Your mind was reeling a simmering anger boiling up within you. You hated Heeseung. And you thought that would never be possible.

You couldn't have ever imagined that there would be a time that you could hate Lee Heeseung. He had opened your world to new things, taught you so much about yourself. He had taught you to love yourself when you were at your lowest. You had showed him sides of yourself that no one had ever seen before. You had given yourself to him completely. Allowing him to take your innocence because you felt like he was trustworthy enough to do so. Because you felt like he was the most perfect person to lose it with.

You were wrong. He had used you, then left you to rot. Left you to deal with the repercussions of what you had done together, alone. He had promised you so much all of it coming to be a lie. Just like he had promised that him and Yeji weren't a couple. That obviously being proven to be a lie. As you ran to your car getting in and starting up you felt like you could never come back to this place.

You had decided to skip school for the past week, huddling up in your dorm room feigning sickness. It was clear to more than half campus what the real reason for your absence was. You had turned your phone off staying in bed day in and day out. You didn't want any contact with the outside world. The only human interaction you were getting was from your roommate, Shin Yuna. She was your saving grace, bringing you food from the cafe and forcing you to get up and shower.

She had loathed Heeseung and Yeji for what they did to you. She had half a mind to go straight to Heeseung and Beomgyu's dorm and tell Heeseung off. You had stopped her, not wanting her to fight your battles for you. No matter how much you wanted her to. You wanted to be the bigger person in this although that was very very hard.

After a week of missing class you received a email from your professor requesting your immediate presence in his next class. No questions asked, you were no longer able to hide under your covers. The real world was calling and you had to pick up unfortunately.

You woke up the day you were due to go back to work, a tight knot formed in your stomach. You weren't ready for this but it was something you had to do. After getting ready for the day just throwing on a pair of old jeans and a loose sweatshirt you had left your dorm readying yourself to take the semi-long walk to campus.

You had finally powered your phone on after it being off for a week. Tons of notifications poured through, text messages and random phone calls. Most of them from Yuna, some from your mother and siblings. A certain contact had surprised you more than the rest.

Heeseung had called you, multiple times. Your brows scrunched up in confusion. Why did he call you? He had said everything he needed to say a week ago in that classroom where he allowed his so called girlfriend humiliate you for something the both of you had participated in.

Scrolling through your text messages you noticed that he had also sent you various text messages begging you to call him back. The he needed to explain everything to you. You decided that texting back would be your best option. That telling him to fuck off and never speak to you again was the only way to get him off your back.

Y/n: Never speak to me again. Do not text me, I want absolutely nothing to do with you.

The response had came almost instantaneously, a plea from Heeseung to hear him. You scoffed at his text message deciding to block his number and continue your walk towards class. You were already not looking forward to seeing him during class today, him and Yeji were certainly both going to be there and you weren't entirely sure that you wanted to see them both.

Your plan was to lay low, get there early and keep your head down most of the day. You didn't want any unwanted attention on you, surely everyone hadn't forgotten about what had transpired a week ago. You definitely hadn't.

When you finally got to class you were relived to find that it was mostly empty. You found a spot in the way back of the class, tucking into yourself you sat down. Your glasses pushed close to your face you tried your best to appear invisible.

You didn't need Yeji, or Heeseung noticing you once they decided to get here.

The class started to fill up slowly but surely. No sign of yeji or Heeseung at all. All was going ok until you felt a presence besides you. The familiar scent of pine filling your nostrils. You went rigged in your seat.

"Y/n?" Heeseung voice whispered next to you. You turned away from him as much as you could, your heart beating wildly in your chest the anxiety you were feeling before just shot up by a tenfold.

"Y/n please can we talk?" Heeseung asked again in a low voice. He reached out a hand placing in on your elbow in a soft touch.

"No don't touch me!" You said making a show of yanking your elbow from his grip. "Don't ever fucking touch me" You spit out trying your hardest to keep your voice low as to not grow attention to yourself.

"please, we need to talk" He continued to whisper out.

"You said all you needed to say" You spit out at him. "Leave me alone." Your voice was firm with finality one that you hoped he caught onto. If he did he made no show in complying.

"This was not my fault" He said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Not your fault?" You asked in bewilderment. Your anger was growing minute by minute and you weren't sure when you would explode. "Our entire relationship was put on display for the entire school to see, pictures of me basically naked were seen by everyone, from your phone Heeseung and you said nothing to defend me. Absolutely nothing, and you want me to hear you out? Fuck you Lee Heeseung."

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise at the bite to your words. He was expecting you to say anything even remotely close to that. In all honestly he was expecting your forgiveness pretty easily.

"you're being ridiculous y/n" He muttered at you. Your simmering anger rose at his words. The audacity he had was truly appalling.

"How dare you?" You said exasperated. "I'm being ridiculous? Are you actually being serious right now Heeseung." You turned to look at Heeseung noting the look on his face. He looked tired and worn out, the bags under his heavy were heavy with spotted dark circles. "Go back to your girlfriend and please, please heeseung leave me alone."

"I didn't mean what I said y/n." Heeseung whispered again, almost in defeat. "I love you. And I was an idiot to say otherwise"

His words had hit you like a freight train straight to your heart. He rose from the seat besides you, going down the rows of seats and finally sitting besides a few of his friends that had trickled in.

A few times throughout the class you would notice his lingering gaze on you. Even after Yeji finally emerged, sitting down besides him with a huge smirk on her face. she ran her manicured nails up and down his arm the entire class period. Almost in a mockingly way. She took small digs at you without even looking at you one time.

It felt degrading, you felt disgusting and most of all you felt broken.

It had been a few more days since Heeseung spoke to you in class. His number stayed blocked in your phone not giving him the opportunity to talk to you. Everyday Yeji continued to subtly taunt you. She did little things like laugh out loud at any and everything Heeseung said, she loudly called him pet names and she continued to work her pesky nails all over his body. Her PDA was to the max even if most times he didn't reciprocate it.

Today had been a free day finally able to breathe and be at the dorms. Yuna was at her boyfriend Sunghoon's dorm all weekend so you had the space for yourself.

Yuna had texted you mid afternoon to check on you, making sure she didn't have to come back at all. But everything was going fine, you were huddled up on your bed, a bag of hot Cheetos next to you as you shamelessly wore Heeseung's old hoodie. You were comfortable and finally your mind wasn't plagued with the thoughts of Heeseung and yeji and what they could possibly be doing right now. Instead you were content watching your little YouTube videos alone in the comfort of your vacant dorm.

You were contently watching a YouTube video when a sharp knock was sound on your dorm room door. It made you jump in surprise not expecting a visitor. you are fairly certain it wasn't Yuna as she has key and would definitely just walk right in.

You got up from your bed hesitantly not wanting to be disturbed by people this late at night. When you opened the door you were greeted with the one person you wanted to see the least right now.

Heeseung was at your door, looking as beautiful as always in his sweat pants and plan black hoodie. You pushed your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose trying to make sure you were indeed seeing clearly and Heeseung really had the audacity to show up to your dorm.

"Why are you here?" You spit out, not in the mood to deal with his baggage.

"I needed to see you Y/n." Heeseung pleaded, he made a step towards you trying to get into the dorm. You let out a sigh, getting the impression that he was not leaving so soon. You allowed him to step inside.

"Heeseung please" You begged turning to look at the boy who broke your heart. "I'm begging you to leave me alone. You got what you wanted ok? What more do you want from me." You were pleading with him, begging him to give this up and leave you be. The damage was already done and you couldn't deal with the aftermath of what your relationship was anymore. It was way too much to bare.

"I need you to hear me out Y/n, you're not even giving me the time to explain everything" His words had made you irrationally angry. You were done letting him gas light you any further, you were about ready to speak your mind, truthfully now.

"You want me to give you the time to explain? After what you did to me? After what you allowed Yeji to do to me? I want nothing to do with you, I don't want to hear you out. I hate you" You spit the words at him like a canon, hoping it hit its mark and hurts him even a fraction of as much as he hurt you.

"You don't hate me" Heeseung said, a shadow of a smirk ghosting his lips.

"Is this funny to you? Is this all just a fucking joke to you? I was humiliated at your expense and it's one big fucking game to you." Your words had clearly made him angry, his eyebrows had a scrunch to them now.

"I didn't ask for our messages and pictures to get leaked Y/n is is just as much humiliating for me as it is for you!" His voice was raised in octave. The vein on his neck popping out just slightly and you would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself how hot it was. You scolded yourself for having that thought. Now was not the time nor place to be thinking of how hot Heeseung looked while he was angry.

"How did she even get them to begin with Heeseung, from you! You're her 'boyfriend' after all" Your volume raised just as loudly as his. Not ready to let him win this argument.

"She stole them from my phone while I was drunk at a party Y/n she took advantage of me." You rolled your eyes at his words, not believing his bullshit in the slightest.

"She's not my girlfriend y/n I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't with her." You scoffed at him, shaking your head.

"It doesn't matter-"

"It does matter y/n I love you." He spoke with fiver, like he was pleading with you to hear him.

"Stop lying to me" You whispered. "I can't take it."

"Im not lying damnit. How can I get you to understand that" No matter the desperation in his voice you felt like nothing was going to convince you that he was genuine with his words.

"No" You said standing your ground "I hate you."

Heeseung ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips once again.

"Stop saying that." He hissed out. The defiant person in you wanted to try your hardest to piss him off further. To hurt him more than he hurt you.

"I hate you." You said again. Heeseung advanced towards you pushing you against the wall in a rush. His big frame engulfed you, both arms surrounding you in a huddle.

"No you don't." His voice was raspy causing the heat between your legs to pulse just slightly. No longer were you arguing with anger, but now with lust.

A part of you was screaming at yourself to push him away, not allowing him to have even a fraction more of yourself. The other side of you was welcoming his advances, praying that sooner then later he would touch you more then he already was.

"I do." You said with a nod, the words leaving you in a single breathy whisper. "I hate you so much"

His lips were on you not even a second later attaching to yours in a rush of emotion and a blur of lust.

You gasped against his mouth giving him the leeway to dip his tongue in entangling yours in a fight for dominance.

His mouth moved from yours traveling down your neck and to your collarbone, you let out a tiny moan trying hard to suppress you noises as much as possible.

Heeseungs hand traveled up your body lazily landing on the outline of your breast in his oversized hoodie.

"You hate me but you're wearing my hoodie hmm." He said teasingly continuing to grope you over the hoodie.

"It's laundry week" You gasped out, arching your body into his. His hands traveled the expanse of your body landing in the hem of the hoodie. pushing it up and over your head to expose your name chest underneath.

Immediately Heeseung attached his mouth to your breast, licking and sucking at them with a desperation you had never seen from him before.

"Stop teasing" You whined pushing yourself further into him, grinding your lower body onto his. Your heat met the material of his sweatpants. The friction shooting a delicious surge through your body. You let out a whimper only spurring Heeseung's movements more. He sucked and licked at your breast like a mad man.

"Do you deserve it baby" He whispered detaching from your chest to say the words. His hand made its way down to your covered heat rubbing over the material of your thin biker shorts.

Your moans were high pitched exactly how you knew Heeseung loved them.

"Yes" You gasped out "I deserve it" You reached for the strings of Heeseungs sweatpants pushing them down in a feeble attempt to get him naked. Heeseung caught your wrists with his hands before lifting you up and plopping you down on the small twin sized bed in your dorm room.

He was quick in grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt lifting it over his head to expose his toned chest. Your breathing was harsh as you stared up him removing his clothing. You hurried in yanking your shorts and panties down.

The desperation for him felt palpable, a rush of emotions so hot filled your body. You wanted him badly, no, needed him badly. Soon the both of you were naked, the yearning you felt coupled with the emotion of your recent heartbreak had made all the lust that much more intense.

in the back of your mind you were kicking yourself. Scolding your heart for allowing Heeseung to have you again so intimately.

“Do you have a condom sweetheart?” Heeseung asked in his sickly sweet voice. You shook your head running your hands up and down heeseungs torso admiring the sculpture of his abs and toned forearms.

“Just pull out” You said, finally reaching his cock, grabbing it in your small hands you pumped it a few times causing a hiss of pleasure to leave his lips.

“You’re so wet” Heeseung panted attaching his fingers to your hole as you continue to stroke him lazily.

“Hurry” You pleaded looking up at him with wide eyes. Tears glistening at the anticipation of the moment. Heeseung removed your hand from his cock stroking it himself a few times before lining it at your entrance.

You held your breath at what was to come next willing yourself to relax, you had taken him plenty of times before but each time had felt like the first. With the stretch of his cock finally entering you, both heeseung and yourself let out a sigh of content. The pleasure of being filled to the brim was all consuming.

“Fuck” You squeaked out at a particularly harsh trust. Heeseungs hands held tightly onto your hips pounding into with a new found vigor. His groans of pleasure loud in your ears.

“So fucking warm” He muttered out, his head falling forward to watch where the two of you connected, the slick from your wetness causing a squelching sound to ring around the room. “You like that?”

The question was a hard one to answer, you couldn’t find words. The sounds you made growing louder and louder at every single push inside of you.

“Answer me” Heeseung growled quickening his pace. His hips now slamming into you over and over harder as his entire body dropped into yours over and over. “Does that feel fucking good?”

“Yes!” You gasped reaching your arms out and hooking them behind his head. “So fucking good. don’t stop” You yanked Heeseungs head down to your breasts. His lips reattaching to the perked nubs of your nipples.

“Tell me you love me” Heeseung whispered against your breast that he was currently latched to. The words didn’t register in your mind. You’re head filled with the feeling of him inside of you. You didn’t answer, instead letting out breathy moans at the continuous slam of his hips against yours.

Heeseungs grip on your hips tightened. His head rising from your chest to look at you. His hips stop, keeping his tight grip on your hips he punctuated his next few words with a slam inside of you. “Tell” slam “me” slam “you” slam “love” slam “me”.

Your mind was a frenzy, completely fucked out you whisper “I hate you.” Which only fueled Heeseungs need to be rough further. His hand creeped up to your neck squeezing just enough to make you see stars.

“No you don’t” He cooed continuing his relentless thrusts. “You love me. now fucking say it” You were stubborn you would try everything not to say it.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of you saying it. So instead you moaned out his name, something you knew for certain was a big weakness for him.

Praising him until he was so fucked out he forgot what he was asking of you. It was a manipulation tactic. You realized that but even in your lust filled daze you knew you could not give him the satisfaction of saying those three words.

“I’m gonna cum” You wheezed arching into Heeseung with your entire body. He nodded in a frenzy curses leaving his beautiful parted lips in a mantra. “Me too baby” He moaned out.

His hand traveled down landing on your bundle of nerves, circling his fingers over your clit furthering the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter ready to snap at any given moment.

You were in ecstasy the need to explode with pleasure growing more as he continued to trust into you at a brutal pace. The movement of his fingers on your clit coupled with constant slam of his hips against yours pushed you over the edging sending you hurtling to your release.

“Fuck fuck fuck” You squeaked out. Convulsing around Heeseings cock causing his breathing to quicken and become heavier.

“I’m gonna cum” He whined pushing a few more times inside of you before pulling out. He stroked his cock a few times allowing the spurts of cum to land over your stomach and breasts.

You took a moment to compose yourself, Heeseung calming his breathing from his position on top of you.

The clarity of the situation ran into you like a truck. The shame you felt quickly after the ecstasy of the moment was palpable. You quickly got up skipping to your bathroom to rid yourself of his spend all over your body. The tears in your eyes spilling out and over the apples of you cheeks.

“Y/n?” Heeseung asked knocking on the door of the bathroom. His voice laced with concern no doubt reading your distraught state.

“Please go” You whispered “We shouldn’t have done that” You stood naked in your bathroom against the door unable to will yourself to open it. You didn’t want to see Heeseungs face. You didn’t want to face the magnitude of what you had just done.

“What Y/n-“

“Go! Get out!” You screamed finally opening the door. Heeseung was dressed again. The look on his face shown one of pure confusion and panic. But you didn’t care. You needed him out. You wanted to scream, rip your hair out, trash your room, anything. He just needed to be gone.

“Get out!” You said again, Heeseung reached for you but you pulled away quick enough that he wasn’t able to make contact with your body. You reached your dorm room door in a blur opening it and pointing outside. “Go or i’ll scream and wake up this entire fucking floor.”

“I’ll be back” Heeseung said. You slammed the door before allowing yourself to fall against it. Sobs Racking your body as you brought your knees to your chest.

In truth you had felt filthy. You had loved Heeseung, that was a sad fact but you knew with absolute certainty that he did not love you like he claimed to. You cursed yourself for allowing him to have you in such an intimate way after what had transpired. Your mind racing with what will happen after this.

Will he tell Yeji? Will she have more fuel to torture you with. You weren’t sure you wanted to deal with the repercussions of what you both had just done. Your heart was in the pit of your stomach as you continued to sob on the floor of your dorm room, completely naked.

The next few days flew by the a blur. You continued your day to day life attending classes and hanging out with Yuna. Oddly enough Heeseung hadn’t been to class in days. You hadn’t seen him since the night you kicked him out of your dorm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him wondering what was stopping him from coming to class.

Yeji had showed up everyday. Still flaunting Heeseung as much as she could even in his absence. She would talk about him loudly, claiming that they had gone on dates or went to parties. You scoffed at all her intentions of riling you up.

You hated her. That much was a fact, but you wouldn’t allow her to see the effect she really had on you.

Today had been a particularly rainy day. One that had immediately put a huge damper on your mood. Class had felt like a chore walking from class to class becoming increasingly more tiring by the second.

As you were walking to your dorm excited for the long tiring day to be over a buzz from your phone took you out of your train of thought.

Yuna was calling you. You answered the phone “Hey Yuna-“

“Come to the cafe NOW!” She rushed into the phone. “What-?” You were cut off by her yelling into the phone again “Now Y/n!”

The line went dead signaling her hanging up on you. In confusion you rushed to the cafe on campus, a place everyone who was anyone hung out.

When you arrived at the cafe you noticed a considerable large crowd forming. You looked around trying to find a glimpse of Yuna in this massive crowd.

Pushing your way through the people you noticed the multiple eyes folllwing you, watching you like hawk with their prey.

Finally getting to the front of the crowd your eyes caught a huge sign, one that usually hung in front of the cafe lighting up the specials, but today it was different. Today instead of the being lights displaying the daily specials it said one little sentence.

“I love you Y/n. Shouting from the rooftops - You’re heeseung” It was a simple message, but the impact was grand.

He was proclaiming himself to you. In front of the entire campus, in front of Yeji herself. She stood there looking up at the sign angrily. Heeseung sat still next to the sign. His eyes on you and only you.

“What the fuck” Yeji spit out, eyes searching wildly probably looking for you in the sea of people. “Heeseung what is this?” She screeched out her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

“I’m done letting you ruin my life Yeji.” Heeseung spoke, eyes still on yours. “We aren’t together, we never were together. I love Y/n”

Your heart felt as if it were beating a million miles per minute, pounding at your chest yearning to burst out. Heeseung was making a grand gesture, and although you both had alot to talk about and it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused he was making a big effort. He was making it known that he chooses you.

Yeji was red with anger turning on her heels and rushing out of the crowd the eyes of everyone around us watching her meltdown front and center. You were sure she wasn’t done here but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what she had planned next. Your only thoughts were occupied by Heeseung and what he was saying right here right now.

You walked up to him slowly, trying to savor the moment as much as you could. The crowd still watching your every movement. Usually that would be a pretty awkward thing but you honestly couldn’t care less.

“Heeseung-“

“i’m not ashamed of you.” He said cutting you off “I love you, and i want everyone to know. I don’t care what people think. I’m done letting someone like Yeji dictate my life i want to be with you.” He spoke with vigor, trying his hardest to get his point across. You could have sworn you had hearts in your eyes. Your heart swelling with pride for the man that stood in front of you.

“You’re not fully forgiven” You spoke softly “But i love you too.” His eyes lit up at your declaration “So i’m willing to try-“

You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours. Attaching to you like he would never let you go, and honestly you really hope he wouldn’t.

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cressidagrey · 9 days ago

Text

Holy Ground - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.

Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.

She deserved more for putting up with him.

More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her.

He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…

Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day.

Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil.

Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced.

Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans.

Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.

Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.

"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."

Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."

Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."

Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."

Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.

“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”

He highly doubted that.

And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.

Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*

*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*

“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."

Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him.

If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy.

“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.

Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.

*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*

*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.

Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself.

It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."

Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*

“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.

Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."

Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."

Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”

Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.

And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.

And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.

Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there.

He was moving before he was even thinking.

*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.

Azriel was already running.

Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.

Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.

Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.

He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.

He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...

It was a mass of wood and rubble.

He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.

His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.

He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...

He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.

There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.

Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...

Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."

"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.

"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."

Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.

"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.

"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.

Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."

And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.

Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.

He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.

"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.

"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.

His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.

"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...

No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."

But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...

“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.

He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.

“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.

“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”

Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.

He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."

He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.

"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."

He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.

She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.

It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.

It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."

And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.

Just look at him.

And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.

And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.

The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.

He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.

He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.

He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."

The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...

Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.

Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.

She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.

He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.

He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...

“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”

"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.

He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."

He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."

He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.

“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.

Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."

He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.

Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.

“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.

“My room,” he corrected.

The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.

“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.

“Az, how long have the two of you…” Cassian asked hesitantly.

Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up.

“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed softly.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Holy Ground

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mayflysdie · 5 months ago

Text

No more. -Ghost FanFic

Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.

Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)

A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.

When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent.

I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear.

" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling.

“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way.

As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.

In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.

Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.

The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.

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

As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.

I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin.

“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them.

“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before.

Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?

“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.

Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.

the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world.

“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines.

“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”

My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.

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

Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him.

He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened.

The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you.

it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record.

Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you.

Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other.

Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on.

Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.

He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.

Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.

Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.

As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.

He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand.

The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.

Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind.

“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him.

Simon can’t be here.

He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.

No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.

And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child.

Not my family, not again.

No.

This world will burn before something happens to them.

Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.

“Simon?”

Simon isn’t fucking here.

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