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laurensprentiss · 4 years ago

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Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 14:

Gif credit: @dudeitiskarev

Warnings: None really, minor mentions of injuries, major trauma bonding, Emily and reader are true soulmates, Hotch drops a bombshell.

———

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” - Laurell K. Hamilton

———

Relief is a strange thing.

Hotch has been by your bedside for the two days you’ve been in the hospital recovering from your injuries. He switches periodically between your room and Emily’s, checking in, grabbing a stale cup of coffee and stuffing himself into a chair that’s much too small. He’d met Ambassador Prentiss on the night you’d been brought into the hospital, all hard lines and pointy corners packed into her petite, perfectly postured frame.

Emily looks unsettlingly like her, he thinks. Just warmer.

It was Elizabeth who’d finally managed to get a hold of your father in the early hours after you’d been brought in, after which he’d ordered the plane to be turned around immediately. He’d narrowly escaped his fate too. Unbeknownst to him, Jordan had arranged for somebody to have him taken care of as well.

He was debriefed on his way to the hospital, convoy in tow and had taken the time to handle his emotions en route. A few stray tears had rolled down his cheek when he’d seen you, the angry bruising on your face piercing his chest.

He’d spoken with Elizabeth then, hushed voices that agreed to finally take care of this.

“It’s the Fitzgerald boy?” He’d asked Hotch.

“Yes, Sir. He’s in our custody at HQ. Senator Fitzgerald is waiting to see him.”

“I think maybe we should pay them both a visit.” Your father had said evenly.

It’s the most stoic Hotch had ever seen him and it was entirely unsettling. Hotch had always known him as a powerful man, but he was kind, affable, humble. He could see now the side to him that he hadn’t before, the side that controlled DC, pulled strings and cashed in favours and had a powerful, reputational political standing.

He’d take care of it.

And he had.

Calls had been made to law firms - now any lawyer who valued their career refused to take on the case, despite Senator Fitzgerald’s own old-money influence. A public defender would try to get him out on bail the following day but a well-placed call to Chief Justice Archibald and the DA would ensure that wouldn’t happen.

A seething threat delivered in your father’s expert, neutral and unwavering tone had been made to the Senator himself when he’d tried to cash in his own favours. That had sealed the fate for the Senator, his son and his legacy.

“Try something like that again, Senator, and I won’t need my security to take care of you. After you let your dog off his leash, after what your boy did to my daughter - I’ll make sure you’re done here. Forever.”

———

In the meanwhile, Hotch studies the marbling bruises on your face, the stitches above your eyebrow, remnants of your harrowing ordeal. He watches you exhale in short shallow breaths, slipping in and out of sleep but frowns when a stray strand of hair obscures your face. He reaches out and moves it gently, his finger brushing the jagged skin of your cheek.

His breath hitches.

He’s now developed a sort of tic, runs his fingers over the cool gold of your pendant that he still has a hold of, finds it’s the only thing that’ll fight off thoughts of a very possible different ending. He keeps reminding himself he needs to return it to you as soon as he can - can’t promise he’ll want to part with it, though.

Relief is a strange thing.

You’re alive and recovering but would anything alleviate the guilt that’s settled in his chest? He doesn’t think so.

Guilt that he’d allowed for Jordan to get close enough, that he hadn’t worked it out sooner. Guilt that his increasing involvement with you was what drove Jordan’s obsession to such a point. He still has to fight the thoughts in his head, all what ifs and imagine ifs, the only thing that grounds him now is the fact that you’re here.

Safe and sound.

He succumbs to his sleep with the intention of telling you that.

You eventually wake up in the sterile hospital room, the sounds of the various machines you’re hooked up to annoyingly monotonous. As you blink your eyes open, you slowly become accustomed to the daylight outside, the reality of the past however many days settling in.

Your eyes fall to the 6’2 man curled into a chair next to your bed. His arm rests on his forehead, small breaths escaping his mouth. You stir just slightly, exceedingly careful not to wake him but he jolts awake at the sound of the sheets rustling anyway.

“You’re awake.” He whispers, blinking his eyes open. He immediately places a gentle, reassuring hand over yours.

You chuckle, wincing a little from the pain in your ribs. “Hi.” You whisper with a smile.

“Hi.” He replies with glassy eyes. “It’s good to have you back.” He says, fondly. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” Your voice is hoarse. “How long’s it been?”

“Two days. They sedated you to make sure there was no swelling in your brain from the accident after you passed out. You’ve got some bruised ribs and your face needed some stitches, but you’re going to be okay.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Listen, I have some news.” He pauses, not sure how to phrase the rest.

You feel like you’re missing a limb, a sore pull at your chest when you remember Jordan’s words. He’d killed the two most important people in your life.

“Yeah. They’re dead.” You whisper.

His eyes widen in alarm and he takes a seat on the bed next to your legs, a reassuring hand on your shin. “What? Who?”

You fight the tears pricking your eyes and the heaviness in your chest. “My father. Emily.”

“What? No. No, no! They’re both alive.” He cups your face gently.

“-But he told me…”

“He tried to kill Emily after the accident. Your dad… he had the plane turned around before he got to Paris. Emily was in pretty bad shape after the accident, but she’s in recovery - they’re absolutely fine. The rest I’ll tell you another day.”

It’s like the feeling returns to your chest. Your tears spill over. “They’re really okay?” You reach for his hand that cups your cheek.

He nods. “And so are you.” He delicately wipes a stray tear off your cheek, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He soothes you quietly but his face lights up, an idea seemingly occurring to him.

He shoots up from his chair to head outside. He holds out a finger, “I’ll be right back.” He says from the door.

He returns around ten minutes later, with McCall in tow and the tension and turmoil of the last week all but melts away when he wheels in Emily, your dad following behind. Two security guards stand watch at the doors.

You immediately sit up in your bed, letting out a shaky laugh, in disbelief that you’re all really okay. The state of Emily’s face throws you off first, angry hues of blue, purple and red bleed into each other, stitches and scars adorn her face and she’s sporting a neck stabiliser. A nasty gash on her lip and cheek make it hard for her to smile fully but she still squeals when she sees you.

Your father almost crushes you in his embrace, quickly retreating when you wince but you laugh them both off, reaching for their hands. Your desire to hold them close is just as much affection as it is to make sure they wouldn’t dissipate as a figment of your imagination.

The sure enough contact is something that you would’ve ordinarily taken for granted, but this time, it almost reduces you to tears. You silently thank Hotch who gives you some privacy and waits outside. He does keep you in his eye line though, watching you fondly from the glass on the other side.

McCall pointedly clears his throat next to Hotch causing him to snap out of his stupor. “You know we can see you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re staring, Aaron.”

Hotch rolls his eyes in response and wanders over to the coffee machine at the end of the hall, McCall trailing behind him. He hands McCall a piping styrofoam cup, taking one for himself, immersing himself in trying to cool the hot liquid but McCall sees right through him.

“Aaron. You remember what I told you the day we went to the Fitzgerald house?”

“Ben-”

“If it wasn’t clear to you then, it must be now. You don’t spend two days squashed into a stiff chair for an assignment. I saw the look on your face when you saw the wreck, I see the way you hold her.”

Hotch says nothing, just stares into his reflection in the black coffee.

He places a sturdy hand on his shoulder. “Everyone can.”

It’s true.

Everybody can.

While Hotch had spent the best part of the last two days by your bedside, McCall had been by Emily’s side, striking up an unlikely friendship. Topics change, things are said, speculations are made, and within it all, the topic of you and Hotch has come up several times.

Emily had never been one to sugarcoat things, neither had McCall. Both of them had a degree of distance, and could see what neither of you could.

“It’s now or never, man.” McCall tells him with a pat on his shoulder.

———

You’d waved your dad out of the room after 45 minutes, his incessant yawning revealing his fatigue. He’d objected, of course, but after some persuasion from you and Emily, he’d said goodbye with a kiss atop both of your heads.

Your father isn’t even out of earshot before Emily wheels herself in closer to you, a wry grin spreading on her face in spite of her split lip.

“So,” she whispers, rubbing her hands together. “Tell me!”

You frown in confusion. “Tell you what?”

She rolls her eyes. “You! And Hotch. Did you guys talk?”

You use your hands to sign between the two of you. “Well, I don’t really know if you noticed, but I haven’t really had a lot of time to figure out crushes.”

“So you admit it? You have a crush on him?” She cackles.

“Emily, for God’s sake. Stop. You’re incorrigible. Shouldn’t you be focused on yourself, didn't you, like, break your neck?”

“No, it’s a soft tissue injury-”

“For now.” You warn her.

“You’re not funny. But seriously, have you given any more thought to what we talked about?”

“Emily, I will wheel you out of this room myself.”

“Answer the question!”

Yes.

You had.

It was one of the only things that had occupied your brain when you were stuck in that cabin. You still feel the effects of the grief you’d felt when you’d thought you’d lost him deep in your chest. Like a lingering ache. The regret was all-consuming, regret that you’d never been able to figure out what you felt for him while he was still around. Regret that you’d never been able to tell him.

You’ve been given a second chance, you’d be an idiot not to take it, right? The feeling had been so chilling, you’d sworn in that moment you’d never put yourself in a position like that again. But fear and vulnerability still play a part in your decision.

“Hey!” She snaps her fingers in your face with her good arm. Her eyes soften though, when she sees the faraway look on your face. “Oh, honey.” She takes your hand and takes a cursory glance around the room before turning back to you. “For what it’s worth - I think it’s a really good idea. You. Hotch.”

You shake your head dismissively but she grips your hand tighter in spite of her injuries.

“Really. I know you don’t see it, but he’d do anything for you, he killed that dirty cop y’know? You should’ve seen what a wreck he was after the crash, I made him promise he’d find you.” Her voice turns thick.

“You did?”

“Yeah. It wasn't fair to him at all, I never should’ve put him in that position. But he stayed with me when they brought me in, he thought I was asleep but I was watching him. He was distraught when he thought he’d lost you.”

That sparks something in you, a kind of warmth that spreads. It’s heady.

“I don’t know, Em. What do I even say?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just matters that you say it. And quick. You need to tell him before he leaves for good.”

That stings. You hadn’t even thought about that. You’d been so used to having him around and him being a part of your daily routine, you hadn’t really thought about him not being a part of your life anymore.

This was an assignment and it was over. You could just as easily part ways with the hope that you’ll forget him and the effect he had on you. That you’ll eventually stop thinking about him but there’s something in you that tells you he’ll linger deep in your soul long after you part ways.

“I’ll think about it.” You whisper.

———

“Red or green?” He holds up two Jell-O pots, one red and one green.

“Red.” You sigh.

“Damn.” He mutters under his breath with a laugh. He takes his assigned seat next to you, handing you a spoon and pulling your table out in the process. He winces when he sits, digging two fingers into his back, just under his ribs.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah it’s nothing, I think I’m a little sore.”

Shit. You’d been so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even realised he’d been sitting there in that tiny seat, squashed together for the past two days.

“I’m sorry. You have to squash yourself into that seat for me.”

“I’m not.” He says, almost instinctively. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, contemplating both of your earlier revelations.

He breaks the silence first. “Well, I guess I should probably debrief you on the details-” He turns to catch you staring at him, a faraway look on your face. He frowns, “Hey. You okay?”

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, continue.”

And that’s when he takes you through the night you were taken. He recalls how he came home after visiting Jordan when McCall called him to give him the news. He tells you that two of the cops that were on duty were killed in the crash and that Lawrence was Jordan’s inside man. He takes you through every harrowing detail from finding Emily barely conscious to being shot at, to finally finding you.

Emily was right, the anxiety is etched on his face as though he’s reliving it.

But there’s still something you don’t understand.

“How did you know it was Jordan?” You ask him.

He sucks in a breath, eyes darkening for just a moment. “It’s complicated.”

“I think I deserve to know. Don’t you?”

He clenches his jaw, the anger still fresh. It’s the strangest thing though, he’s not as angry about being cheated on as he is about the fact that it put you in danger.

He inhales sharply. “Haley.”

“Ah.”

“You know?” He asks, alarmed.

“He told me when I was in that place. That he’d used her for information.”

He averts his gaze, running a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Remember a couple of months ago when I told you we were having problems - the day I took you to the firing range for the first time?” You nod. “Well, that was the day she decided that she’d had enough, and she left. For two weeks.”

The same two weeks he’d avoided you for.

You disguise your hurt when you recall that period and he goes on, “I guess in those two weeks, she found somebody else to help her through her issues. Not that I blame her, I think it was a long time coming, we hadn’t been happy for a while. I admit I checked out of that relationship king before she did.” He swallows thickly before he reveals too much. “She didn’t know who Jordan was, but he knew she was my girlfriend - he took advantage of that, I guess.” He shakes his head. I’m sorry.”

You frown. “Sorry? For what?”

“For putting you in danger. If I’d just kept my distance or given Haley more attention, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

Your heart sinks when you see the wounded expression on his face and you place a hand over his. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” You whisper. He scoffs, but you press on with a squeeze of his hand, “He still would’ve found a way to get to me. Haley, you - it doesn’t matter - he wouldn’t have stopped until he got to me. So I need you to listen to me when I say it isn’t your fault, it isn’t Haley’s fault. Nobody is to blame. Okay?”

You need him to know that you don’t blame him, far from it, in fact. You revere him, you rely on him, you’re falling for him.

You’re falling for him.

He shakes his head, standing up. He refuses to allow you to make him feel better about the situation.

He stands at the window now, gazing out at the parking lot. You drag yourself out of your bed for the first time that day, IV in tow and place a reassuring hand on his built shoulder.

“Hey. Can you look at me?” He steels for a moment before finally turning after a minute. You close the distance between you. “Really. Hotch, you saved my life. The things you taught me, the self-defence, the weapons training? I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”

Your proximity to one another drives you dangerously close to losing your willpower and spilling the secrets that lie on the tip of your tongue.

He hates to admit it, but your words lighten the load on his shoulders exponentially. He was ready to fight this guilt for a long time to come, a fitting punishment for taking his eye off the ball. But your words seem to wash the blood on his hands away.

He says nothing but smiles gently, watching you. He marvels at your heart, doesn’t understand how somebody could be so gracious even after everything that had happened. Your closeness, your warmth, it takes everything in him to not reach out and show you what you mean to him.

He knows as well as you do that after this, he may never see you again. There’s no reason for him to. He didn’t want to give you the impression that he was using his leverage as an FBI agent to pursue something more with you, especially after everything you’d been through.

It didn’t matter what his true intentions were.

It didn’t matter that he was falling for you.

———

You’re discharged three days and a deep shower later, and despite your dad pleading with you to return back to his estate, you’re adamant that you want to go home. Besides, you have a pit stop to make on the way.

“No way.” Hotch’s voice wavers when you make the request. “I won’t allow it. Your father would kill me.”

“You’re not in a position to allow anything.” You reply defiantly. “I’m not asking. You can either take me now, or you can take me home and I’ll go later. Either way - I’m going.”

“Why? Give me one good reason you want to see him and I’ll take you.”

“I don’t need to give you a reason!” But he doesn’t budge. You sigh. “I want to show him that I won. I want him to see that I’m going to be okay and he’s not. I just need to speak to him.”

He just grips the steering wheel tighter, the leather squeaking under his grip. He inhales sharply, taking some time to weigh your words. “Fine.” He says after a pause. “But I’m going in with you. He’s behind bars, but I’m still not letting you go in alone.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Damnit.” He mutters. “I know you can, but for God’s sake - I’m not letting him anywhere near you without someone else present.”

“Fine.”

———

The guard leads you and Hotch to an interview room, and the telltale hue of an orange jumpsuit catches your eyes through the tiny window of the door. He has a sling on one arm, the other kept secure by handcuffs to the table, yellowing bruises on his face.

You’re completely safe and secure, yet you shiver. You feel Hotch’s warm, large hand slink into yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You say the word, I’ll take you home.”

You take a steadying breath, your hand flexing in Hotch’s. “Thanks. But I’m okay. I’m ready.”

You nod to the guard to let you in, taking the last few seconds to brace yourself.

The door creaks open, Jordan’s eyes fall to you. The atmosphere is thick enough to choke on and the air is heavy, lingering with unfinished business. Your mind fills with cracked memories of a dark dingy cabin, the smell of his breath on your skin - you swear you can still feel his hands around your throat.

You steady yourself.

He shifts in his chair when you take a seat opposite him, nostrils flaring. “Well, well, well. Hey, Princess,” he scoffs. You shudder at his pet name, his jarring words abrasive against your skin. The reaction doesn’t go amiss by him, so he takes the moment of weakness to reel you in, snare you back into his trap. “Miss me already?” He look wounded when he sees Hotch follow behind you. “You brought him with you? This-” he lifts his cuffed hand as far as it’ll go without pulling on his arm, “Wasn’t bad enough? You had to bring the fed?”

You don’t dignify his words with a reply. You opt instead to just watch him with narrow eyes, a play straight out of your father’s handbook. He squirms under your gaze, visibly uncomfortable when he sees the look on your face, unwavering, focused.

“How’s jail?” You ask.

“Peachy. ’Course I’d much rather be with you.”

“Watch your mouth.” Hotch replies, anger simmering under his skin.

“Bail?” You ask him.

“No dice.”

“Wonder why.” You hum with a wry smile.

“No doubt you had your daddy pay off the tri-state area to keep me rotting in here. Always have been a pampered little bitch.” Hotch’s hands flex into fists but he continues. “What do you want? You’re not here to make small talk, I know that much.”

You observe him slowly, before answering. “How does it feel?”

“What?”

“How does it feel to be a failure, Jordan?” That stings, you can tell, because as soon as the words leave your mouth, he shifts positions, hunching his shoulders like a dog about to attack.

Except he’s handcuffed.

You continue, “You tried to kill me, you missed. You tried to kill Emily, you missed. You tried to have my father killed, you missed, you even tried to have Aaron killed. Still, nothing.”

“Aaron?” He hisses. “What, you guys are on a first name basis now?”

He’s deflecting.

“Answer me. You’ve done nothing but disappoint your father, he tolerates you. You had everything you could possibly need, you could’ve done so much with your life, Jordan - I actually pity you.”

He blinks rapidly, desperately thinking of a way to attack you.

“You think this is going to go away for you?” He snarls. “You don’t think I’m going to haunt your dreams? Everywhere you look, you’re going to think it’s me. Every time you get a letter, a package, your first reaction is going to be fear.” He chuckles. “I’m gonna stay with you, it doesn't matter if I’m doing life in here.”

“I can handle that. I will handle that. But you - you’re gonna spend the rest of your life in a 6x8, with nothing to do except to think about all the ways in which you’re a fucking disappointment. A coward.” You force your voice to remain steady despite your entire body shaking.

The chair scrapes against the floor when you go to get up, your hands clenched in fists, willing them not to shake. Hotch follows behind you and you’re already out of the door when Hotch is called back into the interview room by Jordan.

A cold smile makes his way onto his face, an attempt to deliver one last blow. “You know I fucked your girl, Aaron?” He delivers his line calmly, his tongue in his cheek.

What Hotch says will stay with him, long after he walks out of the doors. “Did you get what you wanted?” He nods over to the doors you’d just walked out of, a fond smile on his face. “Because I did.”

———

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 16: Bloodmoon’s Dawn

Warnings: strong language blood/gore, body horror, dead bodies, fire

Summary: Heisenberg searches for Juniper the morning after the hunt.

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Heisenberg trudged through the village. The sun had just started to rise in the pale dawn, the village trying to regroup after the Hunt.

He’d heard the gunshot, over the screams and howls. It made his blood run cold, fear and worry churning his gut into a mess.

The feeling didn’t leave him as he wandered the somber streets, the smell of blood and shit assaulting his nose.

But, above that, the horrid odor of burning hair and flesh rose with the wind. He rounded a corner to see a collection of men throwing bodies into a fire, the heat of it reaching his skin from that distance.

Most were Lycans, but there were a few dead and mangled villagers added to the blaze. Their fear of the dead turning spurred the villagers to burn both the creatures and the felled alike.

The thought of finding her on the pile….

He shook the thoughts away, trying to avoid the darkness that crept the corners of his brain.

He heard the wails of a woman, mourning a lost husband or son. He didn’t care to listen for details.

He continued along the street, looking into every fire for a familiar shape. His pale eyes scanning the charred bodies for anything resembling a varcalac alpha.

He sighed with relief when none were in the masses. Heisenberg had found her boots and coat discarded in the snow, her compass not far after. He deposited them in a safe location before searching the rest of the village.

The sound of bells echoed through the cold morning. He sneered, watching as the villagers began to flock towards the church. Mother Miranda, no doubt, was there to welcome them with promises of safety.

A few of the villagers stopped, falling to their knees before Heisenberg. Their voices were low and desperate mumbling for a mix or forgiveness and pity.

He reeled back a bit, before hurrying around them. He didn’t have time to waste coddling.

What he was looking for obviously wasn’t here anymore. He set his sights for the stronghold.

He walked the paths, over countless paw prints and bloody drag marks under his boots. The Lycans always retreated to the stronghold after hunts, to eat the dead they stole and to rest.

Heisenberg saw a few on the way, scrabbling around the rocks and tying up body’s for safekeeping.

The smell of gore was stronger as he entered the already opened doors, he could hear the creatures shuffling around within. If the villagers weren’t so fearful, they might have half a mind to torch this place.

He didn’t use caution as he strode through, the sound of his boots echoing off the ancient walls.

In a shadowy corner there was movement, something much bigger than a Lycan, and too bestial to be Urias.

He came forward, eyes adjusting to the darkness. His breath caught with relief: she was here and she was alive…

Juniper was still in her mutated form, laying bunched up along the old stone. Other Lycans and varcolacs were piled around, resting after the hunt.

Heisenberg stepped closer, seeing blood leak from a wound on her arm.

She raised her beastial head, a low growl coming from her chest.

“Hey now bitch, it’s me,” he lowered his voice, showing her his hands, “It’s Karl.”

She pulled her wounded leg closer, head dipping down. Her bloodied lips curled up as her wet nose twitched.

Sniffing at his offered hands, her hackles lowered.

Juniper leaned down and licked her wound gingerly.

Heisenberg knelt down by her, trying to look the leg over. It looked to be a bullet wound. Juniper’s tongue lathed it over, blood oozing out of the hole as soon as she licked it away.

“Got caught?” He frowned.

He could sense the metal still lodged in the flesh.

He reached out and gently touched her muzzle. Her multiple green eyes flicked up to him as she closed her unnaturally elongated jaws.

He scratched the bridge of her nose, easing as he watched her close her eyes.

There was a pleased rumble from her throat as she nuzzled into the contact.

“What I have to do is going to piss you off.” He admitted, worry etching into his features.

“Hies….en…” her voice croaked out, distorted and garbled in her mutated jaws.

He smiled weakly, “Yea, Doll. It’s me.”

“H….urt.” Her eyes of liquid green looked into his.

He squared his jaw, feeling a thorn in his chest.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He focused on the metal. Being as careful as possible, he began to dislodge the bullet with his powers.

Her form tensed, muscles bunched under the skin. She made a sound of warning, baring her teeth.

He didn’t waver, his eyebrows bunching with concentration. Suddenly, with a wet sucking sound, the bullet came free.

Heisenberg released it, the metal tinkling against the stone of the floor.

Juniper’s pointed ears came forward at the foreign sound. She sniffed the bullet with interest.

“Now what will we do with you?” He sighed, “Did you eat anyone?”

Juniper stood, shaking like a dog before padding closer to him. Her large head nudged him, causing Heisenberg to fall back on his butt.

She snuffled his shirt, pressing him down onto the stone.

He chuckled, trying to push her massive head away as her tongue came out.

She lapped at his face, her breath smelling of blood.

Heisenberg pushed her head to the side, “Damn, who's the nasty one now, bitch?”

She warbled pacing back into her spot, sitting down. Frowning, Heisenberg scratched his chin.

How to get her home?

He made a makeshift collar out of a piece of sheet metal folded in on itself, hooking a chain through it like a leash. Seeing her collared and chained sent a pang though him.

He frowned, his aggressive handling involving her throat still a stinging thorn in his mind.

He was surprised however how easily she followed the lead.

How much of her mind is left in this form?

He thought. Now that she was tired out and fully fed she was better behaved then the Lycans, padding after him as he led her out of the stronghold. The Lycans outside tilted their heads curiously as they passed.

Juniper’s back tendrils lazily flowed around her, like sea grass in the ocean current. They would sometimes bat into Heisenberg or disturb the snow covered branches overhead.

The trip back took much longer than expected. Heisenberg was forced to avoid the outskirts of the village entirely, making the way back longer anyways. Not to mention, in this form everything smelled new and interesting to Juniper’s sensitive nose. Heisenberg would get stopped every few feet by her shoving her face into a log or trying to scratch around in the dirt. It was akin to walking a large dog, he mused.

With the factory grounds in sight, his patience waned in wake of her most recent pit stop.

“Buttercup, you are really pissing me off.” He hissed, yanking on the chain. She whined, looking at him dejectedly as she padded up beside him.

Her head shot up, sniffing at the air. Her ears perked up as she looked towards the factory excitedly.

Heisenberg chuckled, “Yea, we’re going home.”

Before he could brace himself she went tearing off towards the factory, almost ripping the chain from his hands. He was forced to take a full run to keep up with her.

When they got to the fence he let go as she scrabbled over the top.

Falling off onto the other side with a thud, she looked at him expectantly.

The gate rattled open, as he walked through. He paused to ponder what to do with her now. He had hoped she would have changed back during the journey over, but her mutated form was locked in like a tick. She was also filthy, caked in a layer of blood and grime.

He led her to the back of the factory, practically having to push her onto the larger elevator. This was saved for when he had to transport larger scrap into the underbelly. But she should fit fine.

He took her to base level four.

Once there he hooked the chain to the wall, positioning her over some grates. She tugged at the bonds until she heard the sound of a faucet turning.

He came back brandishing an old rubber hose.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as he pointed the nozzle at her.

Heisenberg hosed her off, blood and mud washing away. The dirty water trickled away through the metal grates she stood over.

After he shut the water off, Juniper stood dripping and shivering. Her mane of dark curls, heavy and waterlogged, she resembled a drowned sheepdog.

“K-Ka….rl?” Her monstrous voice eked out. She pulled her twisted legs closer to herself as she shivered.

He frowned, “Yea, Yea…I know the water was cold.”

She gave a small whine like a dog, looking down.

“You should dry off soon, it’s warm here.” He soothed. He made sure the ventilation system kicked on, forcing dry air though the lower sections of the factory.

He heard a hollow clinking sound, spinning around to find Juniper’s jaws biting at the large pipes. She pulled at them, shaking her monstrous head a bit.

“Hey!” Heisenberg shouted, “Don’t eat my shit!”

One of her many eyes flicked over to him as she continued.

He stomped closer, hearing a growl from deep in her chest.

“Hey!”

She paused for a moment, peering at him before starting to tug at the pipe again. He pulled on the chain, causing her to stumble back a bit with a whimper.

“Juniper, stop it!” He scolded her like a dog. She huffed.

He noticed the tendrils on her back began to recede, pulling into the bubbled flesh. Her scar also looks less angry.

Seeing her safe and starting to calm gave him time to think. Questions pooled around his head:

Miranda had to know Juniper could turn…but why was she testing the limits of it? Did she want to use her as a weapon or was it just more of her sick curiosity?

He didn’t know, but it made him feel sick. He hated seeing Juniper like this, twisted and bloodthirsty.

Seeing her start to get even a shadow of control over this form brought him some relief. If she could control it fully she’d be much less of a danger to herself.

Was it hunger related? Or just moon patterns, maybe?

The bloodmoon had definitely affected her much more deeply than any moon faze had prior. He scratched his beard, deep in thought.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil #heisenberg smut

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saladejin · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me)

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :)

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories.

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.”

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed.

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

~ three months later ~

“That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

TO BE CONTINUED

#jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin smut #bgwdynamitedads #btsghostie #jimin fluff #jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jimin fanfic #BTS jimin #bts fluff #bts fanfic #policeman jimin #s2l au #heavy angst #shy jimin #saladejin

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hysterialevi · 4 years ago

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Hjarta | Chapter 14

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

KJOTVE’S FORTRESS

THE DUNGEON

Eivor stared at the limp body dangling above him, utterly dismayed by the new reality he had just stepped into.

Not a single word escaped from the barrier of his lips, and yet, the only thing he wanted to do was scream. It felt as if everything around him had come to a sudden pause, and at the moment, there was nothing except a deafening silence crushing the walls of his skull.

How could Thora be dead? It was just a day ago that Eivor saw her roaming around, full of the vibrant life she always carried. He recalled their last conversation as if it were yesterday, and even now, her voice still lingered in his thoughts like the smoke of an extinguished flame.

He promised himself he would’ve saved her. He believed he would. He fully expected he’d be returning to Bjornheimr with Thora in tow after a long and arduous battle, but now... his entire world was crumbling around him.

Thora was gone. The very same woman who once rescued him from Kjotve’s barbarity had now succumbed to it herself, and it was all thanks to the hissings of a snake.

Eivor just prayed he would live long enough to see Dag again. He may not’ve been able to save Thora anymore, but he had every intention of ensuring that her killers would follow her footsteps across the bridge to Helheim.

It was the least he could do for her at this point, and the only thing he could do.

“Looks like you’re too late, Wolf-Kissed,” a familiar voice gloated from behind Thora. “Such a shame. All that time spent forming this alliance, and you couldn’t even save one person. Your entire bloodline has always been a joke.”

The young man averted his gaze from Thora’s corpse and spotted Gorm emerging from the shadows, battle-axe in hand as two other warriors prowled alongside him. Kjotve however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Gorm...!” Eivor growled, instantly rising from the floor. He brandished his axe and bared his teeth, ready to leap at them at a moment’s notice. “What have you done to my sister?”

The other man chuckled. “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? Father cut her down like the bitch she was. Thora tried to put up a fight, but in the end, it meant nothing.” His lips curled into a smug grin. “I’m afraid her seat in the Corpse Hall will forever remain cold.”

Eivor mindlessly took a few steps forward, wanting nothing more than to sever Gorm’s head from his shoulders.

“...You argr dog!” He snarled. “I’ll tear your lungs out through your spine!”

Sigurd hurriedly snatched his lover’s arm, holding him back before he could get himself hurt.

“Eivor!” He warned.

Gorm snickered at the display, clearly not intimidated by the broken warrior’s threats. “You couldn’t kill me even if I was blindfolded, Wolf-Kissed. And we both know it.”

Sigurd ignored the viking’s taunts and got straight to the point, eager to put this charade to an end.

“Enough, Gorm!” He barked. “Where is Kjotve?”

“My father?” He let out a scoff. “He’s gone.”

The prince’s tone mellowed with bewilderment. “What?”

“Are you deaf, Styrbjornson?” Gorm snapped back. “I said he’s gone. He fled. He isn’t here.”

Sigurd grew impatient. “Well then, where the hell is he?”

“Even if I knew, you really think I’d tell you that? You are as stupid as you look.” Gorm brought his attention back to Eivor and smirked, not entirely finished with him just yet.

“It’s a pity, Eivor. My father actually wanted to keep Thora alive. She was rather valuable, after all. Could’ve made for a useful hostage. Not to mention that there are many slavers out there willing to give up a handful of silver for someone like that.”

The man rested his battle-axe on his shoulder. “But you know what? I tire of these games. I’m sick of going back and forth with your clan, and frankly, I don’t give a shit about what my father has to say.” He gestured to Thora’s body. “Consider this your only warning, Raven-Tamer. Tell your clans to back down, or else, Thora won’t be the only one with a broken neck when this war is over.”

Eivor glowered at him, his gaze wide open with an unbridled rage. “It’s too late for that, Gorm. You murdered my family. Your people burnt down my home. Our village lies in ashes because of you.” He tightened his grip on his axe. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing more than another corpse standing in my way.”

Raising his arm in the air, Eivor didn’t even give Gorm a chance to react before he hurled his weapon across the room, aiming straight for the other man’s head.

Before the axe could make contact though, Gorm quickly ducked under the trajectory and charged forward, signaling his men to follow suit. In the meantime, Eivor whipped out the spare axe hanging from his back and lunged at them, completely devoid of the grief that had crippled him mere moments ago.

As for Sigurd, he focused on taking down the other two warriors and instantly bashed the butt of his sword against one of their helms, attempting to knock off the piece of armor. He swung the lengthy blade into the man’s abdomen, and forcefully slammed him against the wall. The brutish viking struggled in Sigurd’s grip and tried to shove him away, but was quickly silenced when the prince jabbed his sword into the crack sitting above his collar.

For a brief moment, the warrior choked on the blood that came spurting from the wound and jerked like a fish out of water, but swiftly fell into death’s embrace once Sigurd sealed the kill. The prince allowed the lifeless man to collapse to the floor, and within a heartbeat, he was already hunting down the second man.

Meanwhile, Gorm and Eivor found themselves in a heated fight to the death and practically threw each other around the room, doing whatever they could to gain the upper hand. Their axes clashed together in a storm of vicious attacks, and if it weren’t for the cramped space of the dungeon’s cold walls, Eivor would’ve already tackled his opponent directly to the floor.

To Gorm’s surprise though, Thora’s death hadn’t hindered the Wolf-Kissed nearly as much as he expected. The strength behind each of his swings was fueled by a fervent sense of vigor, and if anything, he would’ve said that her loss only empowered him further.

There was a deadly layer of venom coating the edges of his sharp stare, and in the shadows, Eivor fought more akin to a beast than a man. His glare pierced through the darkness like a torch in the dead of night, and within seconds, he had already pummeled his way through Gorm’s wavering defense.

“You should’ve never laid your hands on Thora...” Eivor said through clenched teeth. “I’ll gut you for what you’ve done.”

With one powerful blow, the young man slammed his axe downwards and bashed Gorm’s weapon out of his grip, leaving him defenseless. Afterwards, he kicked the viking down to the ground and towered over his writhing body, preparing to land one final strike.

He took a handful of Gorm’s tangled hair and violently yanked his head up from the floor, positioning his blade right underneath the chin. Just before he could cut the flesh however, Sigurd’s voice came booming across the room, bringing Eivor to a sudden halt.

“Wait!” The prince exclaimed, reaching an arm out. “Don’t kill him...!”

Eivor shot a glance at him, his eyes still wide with fury. “Why not?”

Sigurd stepped over the corpses of the warriors he just slew, still somewhat worn out from the fight.

“We can make use of him. He’s the only one who can lead us to Kjotve. If he dies, we’ll be left in the dark.”

The young man was silent with reluctance, causing Sigurd to walk closer to him.

“Eivor...” he said, attempting to calm him down, “I know your heart bleeds for your sister, but we need Gorm alive. Without him, we’ll never find Kjotve on time. Think about this.”

“If it weren’t for this bacraut--” Eivor fired back, shaking the man in his grasp, “Thora would still be here! She would still be alive! We could’ve... we could’ve saved her. We could’ve brought her back home.”

Sigurd’s tone sank with empathy. “...I know, Eivor. I know. And he will pay for it. I promise you. But right now, vengeance will get us nowhere. The only way we’re ever going to bring this war to an end is if we strike at the core itself. We need to find Kjotve, and we need to do it quickly. We can’t give him time to recuperate.”

The young man was quiet in return, but Sigurd could tell he was listening. His actions were restrained by a leash of hesitation, and the fires of his rage had dimmed into nothing but dying embers.

“...Fine.” Eivor finally murmured. “Have it your way.” He threw a fist into Gorm’s face, knocking the man out cold.

Sigurd let out a breath of relief and made his way to Eivor’s side, unsure of what to say from here.

“You did the right thing, love.” He reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll send someone to fetch Gorm. We’ll tie the bastard up and bring him back to Bjornheimr. In the meantime...” Sigurd peered at Thora’s body, “...let’s get your sister down from there. She deserves a proper funeral.”

Eivor said nothing in response and simply slunk away from the unconscious warrior, drifting over to his fallen axe. He retrieved the weapon from the floor and wandered to the mechanism holding Thora in the air, carving through its taut rope with his blade.

Just after a few firm slices, the rope snapped in two and slithered free from the system keeping it in place, causing Thora’s body to plummet onto the rough stone.

She fell with a solid thud, and landed in a position that made it look as if she were only sleeping. Meanwhile, Eivor plodded sluggishly towards his deceased sister, entirely drained of any willpower he once carried.

“Thora,” he whispered, kneeling down beside her, “...I’m so sorry.”

Sigurd stayed by Gorm’s body, watching the tragic scene unfold. He never had the chance to speak with Thora other than a few scattered conversations, but even then, the heartache in Eivor’s voice was enough to plant sorrow within him.

He remembered well what the loss of a loved one felt like. Despite having seen over twenty winters pass since then, Sigurd hadn’t forgotten how desolate the world was after his mother departed from this realm.

Everything felt pointless for a time. It took him months to find any motivation to see his life to its end, and even longer to accept the grim reality of the absence in his family. It wasn’t until he was a young man that Sigurd was finally able to move on from his grief, and to this day, he still experienced occasional bouts of loneliness.

He couldn’t imagine how Eivor must have felt. Not only was he mourning the loss of his sister, he was also battling with the guilt of not finding her on time. He never had the opportunity to say goodbye or wish her well, and if the horrors of war had taught Sigurd anything, it was that guilt often proved to be more torturous than any enemy out there. He just wished he knew how to help.

“Eivor?” Sigurd said softly, approaching the other man. He knelt on the floor beside Eivor, trying to provide him some amount of solace. “I’m... I’m sorry. This is...” he let out a deep sigh, “...this is unforgivable.”

His lover cradled Thora’s head in his lap, running a comforting hand through her hair.

“She saved me from Kjotve,” Eivor recalled, “when I was just a boy. While everyone else fell to his blade, she was the one to pull me out from the fire. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here. I owed her... everything. And yet, I repaid her with nothing.”

The Wolf-Kissed’s shoulders slouched in despair. “Thora doesn’t deserve to be in Helheim. I do.”

Sigurd leaned closer to Eivor, hoping to part the stormy clouds looming over his somber gaze.

“Don’t lay down your shield just yet, Eivor. We haven’t been defeated. We still have a chance to make this right. This war isn’t over.”

The younger man scoffed. “And when will it be over, hm? When Kjotve kills the rest of my family? When he kills you? When does it end?”

“I... I don’t know, Eivor.” Sigurd answered sincerely. “This tapestry that the Nornir have woven remains a mystery to me. But know this...” he looked his lover in the eye, “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that Kjotve doesn’t walk away from his crimes. I’ll find the traitor who’s hiding amongst our clans, and I’ll get the answers we need from Gorm. Even if I have to beat them out of him. Thora will be avenged.”

Eivor let out a shaky breath, attempting to conceal his forlorn nature. The last thing he wanted was to break down in front of Sigurd -- especially in the middle of a battlefield -- but he could feel his shell withering away with each passing second.

“Thank you, Sigurd.” He replied plainly. “You’ve always been there for me.”

The prince laid a delicate hand on the back of Eivor’s head, pulling him into a gentle hug as he pecked a kiss above his brow. “And I always will be.”

Disrupting the stillness, a clump of footsteps suddenly began to echo wildly off the stone walls, prompting Sigurd to separate their momentary embrace. He shifted his focus to the staircase on the opposite side of the room and took hold of his sword, bracing himself for anything.

Much to his relief however, he saw Ulfar hurrying into the scene with a small party of men in tow, attentively searching for the jarl’s missing daughter. His forehead glistened with the beads of freshly broken sweat, and splatters of blood could be seen staining both his axe and armor.

“Sigurd! Eivor!” He called out upon noticing the two men. “Have you found--”

The raider fell into an abrupt silence, taking a moment to process exactly what he was looking at.

“...Is that...?”

The prince gave him a dour expression. “...Thora. Yes.” He dragged a hand down his face. “We were too late. Gorm killed her.”

Ulfar blinked out of shock, completely taken aback by the horrid news.

“Oh, no...” he murmured under his breath. “When did this happen?”

“She was killed long before we arrived,” Sigurd explained. “Kjotve knew we were coming.”

The older man furrowed his brow in anger, seemingly unsurprised to hear the report. “...Shit. Where is Kjotve now?”

Sigurd shrugged. “No idea. He fled even before we set foot on his shores. The only person who could lead us to him is Gorm.”

“And where is he?”

The prince gestured to his body. “Over there. Don’t worry, he’s not dead. Just unconscious. I wanted to bring him back to Bjornheimr. See what he knows. He claimed to have no knowledge about his father’s whereabouts, but I don’t believe it for a second.”

“A wise choice. My men will take him to the longship. If this bastard has any information on Kjotve, we’ll get it. As for Thora...” Ulfar’s voice wavered slightly, “just look after her. Okay? I dread to see how Arngeir and Randvi will react to this, but we need to give her a proper burial. It’s the least we can do.”

Sigurd nodded. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Good. Then we should leave this damned fortress as soon as possible. I’ve seen enough of this frozen hell to last a lifetime.” Ulfar turned to address his raiders. “Men, gather any of our people you can find and return to the ship. Halvard, Osmund, I want you two to handle Gorm. Make sure he returns to Bjornheimr alive.”

“Of course, Ulfar.”

“Then let’s get moving. I imagine our jarl will be awaiting the news. Best we tell him sooner than later.” He took a glance over his shoulder, peering at Eivor. “...You lot go on ahead. I’m not quite finished here yet.”

Swiftly making their way out of the dungeon’s stuffy interior, Ulfar’s men returned to the ships and brought Gorm along with them, dragging him across the floor as if he were no more than a sack of meat.

As for Ulfar, the weathered warrior sheathed his axe and calmly approached Eivor, crouching down on the floor in front of him. He asked Sigurd to give them some privacy with a simple tilt of the head, and assured the man that he would take care of their mutual friend.

At first, the prince seemed tentative to abandon his lover’s side. Eivor was clearly still in a state of distress after all, and he didn’t much like the idea of leaving him in the hands of someone else. But after a moment or two, Sigurd decided to grant the young man some space and quietly removed himself from the dungeon, eager to get a breath of fresh air.

Meanwhile, Ulfar stayed behind and kept the distraught viking company, suddenly thinking back to when he found Eivor at the beach on the anniversary of his parents’ deaths. Much like that day, the boy appeared to be lost in a labyrinth fashioned out of his own thoughts, and his eyes seemed to bleed with a profound darkness that even Ulfar didn’t know how to fend off.

It pained the old raider to see the man like this again. He had hoped that by the time Eivor reached his age, Kjotve’s cruelties would’ve been a thing of the past. He hoped that Eivor would’ve been able to start his adulthood in a world of prosperity, and yet, here they were, knee-deep in a storm that was only growing larger. It felt as if Fimbulwinter itself had settled into Norway’s seas, and the icy winds seemed to be biting their flesh harder than ever before.

Thora’s death had left an irreparable tear in the threads of Midgard, and frankly, Ulfar didn’t know how they were going to recover from this.

“Eivor,” he finally said, “...it’s time to go.”

The Wolf-Kissed kept his gaze on Thora’s face, unable to even make eye contact with the other man. He could hear everything the raider was saying to him, and yet, his mind remained stranded in an ocean of fog.

“...What am I going to do, Ulfar?” He asked, his tone flat with emptiness. “Where do we go from here?”

Ulfar sighed morosely and stared at the floor, weeping internally at the sight of Thora’s corpse.

“The only way we can go.” He answered. “Forward.” He paused for a second, trying to maintain his composure. “I... I am going to miss Thora dearly. I watched her grow up, just like I watched you. Seeing her die before me -- it’s always been one of my worst fears.”

Ulfar knotted his hands together, carrying on with his train of thought. “But I knew Thora, and I know she wouldn’t have wanted this to weaken us. She wanted Kjotve dead as much as the rest of our clan, if not more. The best thing we can do for her now is ensure that she doesn’t die in vain.”

The raider gripped the sides of Eivor’s arms, holding him firmly in place.

“...Never let go of your axe, drengr. Not even in death. We are not broken yet. Kjotve will fall.”

Ulfar rose to his feet and beckoned the young man to do the same, ready to put this dreadful place behind them. The battle outside had finally died down after what felt like an eternity, and it sounded as if most of Kjotve’s men had been slain by the Bear and Raven Clans.

Though, of course, the enemies they faced here were only a portion of the man’s entire army. Ulfar imagined that the rest of them were protecting their cowardly leader on some remote island, and shielding him from the dangers of the world until his foes stumbled upon their doorstep.

But right now, he had no desire to spare another thought on the morbid subject. He was already drained due to the anchor of grief now weighing him down, and his heart pounded at the idea of informing Arngeir about his daughter’s brutal demise.

They were going to have a hefty funeral to prepare for once they got back home, and Ulfar could only hope that the traitor would soon join their fallen warriors on the pyres.

“Come, little cub,” he said to Eivor. “Your father’s waiting for us.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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fanficimagery · 5 years ago

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Legendary

Summary: Imagine being the first person One recruits. You're someone who likes to work behind the curtains, so it takes a while before you meet the full team. And when you do, it's not under the best of circumstances, but it does get you face to face with Four- the guy you'd secretly been crushing on since One showed you his file.

Gif made by: @mrbenhardys | Gif set can be found HERE.

Words: 6.5K Warnings: Language.

Living in an abandoned airfield out in the middle of nowhere is not where you saw your life heading, but it was a hell of a lot better than living under the government's microscope all because they were wary of your mind. You had been picked up by the government in your late teens, your crimes being that of supplying criminals with gadgets far too advanced to be in their hands. But instead of locking you up, the government hired you to supply the good guys with technology only your mind had been able to come up with and make.

Eventually you noticed their leash on you was getting shorter and shorter, and eventually you made a run for it. And while on the run, that's when One made his introduction.

One was a genius himself, but he needed more brain power on his side to do what he wanted to do. And while helping stage a coup d'état had never crossed your mind, you couldn't help but want to when One told you all the terrible things Rovach Alimov did in Turgistan.

So after One helped you discreetly move all the money in your bank account to where he stored his apparent billions, he faked your death. It was a little trickier than he anticipated since the government was bound to make sure you were actually dead, but he accomplished it and then quickly moved you into an abandoned airfield where he set up shop.

"You're a ghost now," he says when leading you to your own trailer, "so you need a new name with no attachments and one that won't cause any attachments."

"What? Like One?" You huff a laugh.

One looks at you, expression affronted. "What's wrong with One?"

"I'm not going to be Two," you deadpan. "I'm all for staging a coup, but I suck at being a badass. I'm just the girl behind the curtain supplying you with cool toys. Might as well just call me Oz."

One opens his mouth to retort, but then hums. "Huh. Oz. I like it."

Over the months, as One solidifies his plans for what he's looking for in a team (even though he refuses to call them a team), he gets you comfortable in hand-to-hand combat and weapon's training. He whips you into shape, ignoring your whining the entire time, and surprises you after he deems you ready with an English Mastiff he saved from the streets.

You take the time to booby-trap the airfield, setting out sensors and setting up trip wires. You and One manage to get more trailers moved onto your base of operations, and in your down time you slowly start to make them livable for when he eventually recruited the others.

It's a little over a year when he catches wind of someone worthy to recruit and leaves you to do his job. It takes him a couple of days, but he eventually returns with Two- a former spy. The blonde woman had taken one look at you and clearly didn't like what she saw, and it wasn't until you offered to spar with her did she change her mind. She obviously won the match, but she saw why One kept you around and was glad to know you could take care of yourself even if you weren't going to be out in the field.

Then when One went out to recruit Three, a hitman; Four, a parkour expert and thief; Five, a doctor; and Six, a driver, Two always stayed back with you to test the new toys and gadgets you'd had in the making. You never met the others, even though One allowed you to read their files, and you were comfortable to not have been known to them. You lived right under their noses and they were none the wiser.

Six, however, was too nosy for his own good and eventually found you. Introductions were made and you ended up finding a kindred spirit in the getaway driver.

The longer Six and Two hung around you, the quicker it was for them to come to a realization- they noticing a pattern when one team member in particular was brought up. Four was insanely attractive and his accent over comms did things to you that had Two and Six making fun of you for. But One had rules in place and since he had taken you under his wing first, you felt compelled to follow them. So while you found Four attractive, pining from afar was all you'd do much to the displeasure of Two and Six who sometimes encouraged you to talk to the thief.

The ghosts are somberly getting out of the SUV, grabbing up their duffel bags and making their way towards the trailers. One hasn't said much since the clusterfuck of a mission in Italy, but as he sets his sights on one trailer in particular, he sighs.

"So are we gonna rock, paper, scissor this, Two? Someone has to deliver the news to Oz."

The blonde woman rolls her eyes. "I'll do it. Better to hear it from me than you."

The others glance around, frowning. "Who the hell is Oz?" Three asks.

One and Two share a look before he says, "Oz is the man behind the curtains and the creator of more than half the shit we use, as well as the person who keeps the base livable."

"Oz and Six were like siblings," Two then says. The others share a surprised look, especially when One quietly groans at Two's admission.

One looks at the trailer one last time before breaking off from the group, the others continuing to follow after Two. Upon stopping at the trailer door, Two raises a fist and pounds three times on it. A dog barks inside.

"So this is where Wally disappears to," Four mumbles.

"Well he should," Two replies. "Oz is his maman."

"Wait. What? Oz is a woman?"

- X - X - X - X - X -

Clad in a gray tank top, black short tights, and a black silk robe hanging open around your shoulders, you open the trailer door only to be greeted by a solemn Two, Three, Four, and Five. You flash them a hesitant smile. "Hey, guys. What brings you to my humble abode?" Wally pushes passed you and makes a beeline for Four, you rolling your eyes at your overly friendly beast. Looking around the group, you realize one face in particular is missing. Which is odd. "Where's Six?"

Three cringes, Four averts his gaze and focuses on Wally, and Five's eyes widen before her gaze darts to Two. Two sighs. "Six didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Your smile immediately drops and your breath hitches. "H-How?"

"The car skidded," Five tells you, voice sympathetic. "We hit a forklift and he was impaled. It was instant. I couldn't save him."

Your mouth scrunches up as you sniffle, determined to keep the tears at bay. "Thanks for telling me." Clearing your throat, you then nod at Four. "Can you watch Wally for a bit? I know he likes you."

"Uh. Sure."

"Thanks."

"Oz," Two calls out, stepping up into your trailer as you turn around. She catches you pulling on a pair of jeans, then shoving your feet into a pair of boots. She sighs. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Never." Reaching into a bowl by your front door, you grab a set of keys before reaching up to grab a helmet off the shelf. Then as you exit and walk around to the back of your trailer, you pull off the sheet covering a shiny black on black Kawasaki Ninja sports bike. "Tell One not to worry. I'll be back."

Shoving the helmet down atop your head, you climb atop your bike, start the engine, and take off.

- X - X - X - X - X -

When you return back home, all is quiet. One is the only one out and about, and when he sees you he salutes you with the bottle of beer in his hand. You tap your helmet to let him know you're alright and continue on driving towards your trailer- your trailer which has noise coming from the inside.

Not too upset that someone has apparently trespassed into your space, you stomp up the stairs into your trailer only to be greeted by Wally. Smiling tiredly, you toss your keys back into the bowl and set down your helmet. "Hey, handsome. Did you miss me?" You let Wally give you one kiss, cringing as his tongue swipes up the side of your face, before standing up. Then looking at your couch, you shake your head in faint amusement at Four. "Made yourself comfortable, I see."

"You have a better set-up," he grins, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him, kicking his feet off your coffee table before taking a seat next to him. He gestures to the back of his neck while staring at yours. "You good? You didn't have that when you left."

Touching the bandage on the back of your neck, you nod. "I'm fine. Just a small tattoo."

"Really? What'd you get?" Peeling off the bandage, you allow him to see the freshly shaven patch of hair just above the nape of your neck and the number 6 tattooed there. Four hums. "Two mentioned you were like siblings."

"Yeah. He was a nosy little bastard," you say, huffing a small laugh as you relax into your seat. "He wandered up to my trailer one day, hit on me, and then when I rejected him we just settled into a sibling bond that kind of pissed off One."

"You got too close."

"We got too close and that's against One's rules," you agree. "Now I guess I can see why he didn't want us to get too personal. This feeling sucks."

"Yeah. The whole mission was fucked from the get-go, but One didn't wanna pull out."

"Of course not. We're one step closer to Rovach. Nothing will get in One's way, not even the death of one of my little ghosts."

Four quirks an eyebrow at you. "Your ghosts?"

"Duh. This might be One's operation, but you're all mine, Four. I look after you, even if you don't know I'm doing it."

He chuckles and you notice a faint blush touching his cheeks. You ignore it. "Now that you mention it, One doesn't seem like the type of person to get all our favorite snacks when out shopping and stocking our cupboards in secret."

You grin. "You're welcome." Four continues to smile before letting his attention be dragged back towards the TV. You silently yawn. "Not to be rude, but I'm gonna shower and head to bed. You're more than welcome to stay, but if you wake me up I will murder you and not feel guilty about it afterward."

"Noted."

Surprisingly Four stays, he making camp on your couch. You chuckle quietly, call Wally to bed, and bid Four a good night.

Now that the others knew of your existence, you had a constant stream of visitors. One, Four, and Five would visit on their own, and you noticed Three would tag along every now and then with Two. But the ones who lingered the longest were always Four and Five- Four with his lame jokes and boyish smiles, and Five with her thirst of knowledge for how you made some of her medical supplies.

One's in a bit of a snit, looking for a new recruit to become Seven. You offered your help, but he refused it, so you went off to work on your newest creation.

You've been tucked away in your personal hangar, too far in the zone to remember to take breaks. So it's no surprise you're startled when the hangar door is slid open.

"Time to come up for air, Oz," Four shouts. "We bring you food."

Squinting towards the too bright door, your expression brightens upon Four and Five. "My two favorite people!" You cheer. "Don't let Two know I said that though. She scares me."

Five laughs as Four tosses a greasy bag at you, you catching it and then immediately diving in. Settling down on a stool, you pull out a burger and take the largest bite you can. You groan at the taste, ignoring Four and Five's amused looks, and accept whatever fountain drink it is that Five passes you.

"So what were you working on?" Five asks. "We stopped by earlier, but you were blaring music and didn't see us."

"Mmm. Yeah." You quickly swallow the food in your mouth. "Come check this out." Wiping the burger and fry grease off your fingers, you grab a non-labeled can and gesture for Four to step closer. "Close your eyes and pucker up."

His eyes widen, cheeks heating up, and Five snorts. "Joking," you grin. "But seriously, close your eyes."

Now chuckling, Four does as you say. You grasp him by the chin and gently turn his head from side to side as you spray his face with your newest creation. "What.. the fuck, Oz," he grumbles. "What is this?"

"It's for when you go out and about. I'm tired of cameras picking up all your pretty faces and hacking into foreign servers to erase your presence."

Five frowns. "Have we been caught a lot?"

Four's eyes flutter open and you direct him to where the nearest camera is as you walk over to a bank of computers. "Not a lot, but it's more than I like." With a few clicks, you bring up the video feed from inside the hangar. Four's face on the screen is now severely distorted that it's impossible to ID him. "And now with this spray, you won't have to worry about being caught ever again."

You freeze one of the feeds so that Four can walk over and see for himself. "Holy shit. You really are a genius."

"Duh."

"Can't wait to test it out in the field," he then says. After staring at his distorted face and then touching his face for any lingering residue, he asks, "So how do I take it off?"

You freeze. "Take it off? Huh. I knew I forgot something."

This time Four freezes and Five hides her smile as her gaze darts between the two of you. "Oz. Please tell me there's a solution to getting this stuff off my face?"

"Well.."

"Oz!" Four fakes lunging are you and you yelp, laughing. A smile of his own blossoms, green eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Kidding. I'm kidding!" You walk around the table, keeping distance between you and him. "All you need is soap and water."

"You better be right."

As Four walks off towards the bathroom, Five clears her throat. The Hispanic beauty grins at you. "When are you going to cave and just get with him?"

Your smile slowly falls as you sigh. "Come on, Five. You know the rules just as-"

She scoffs. "Pinche rules. You broke with them with Six, why not with Four? We all see the way you look at each other when the other isn't paying attention."

"Look. I like Four. Okay?" You quickly glance around to make sure he's still busy. "But I- how can I start something with someone who's almost eighty percent sure the Turgistan mission is a suicide mission? Starting anything with Four will only end in heartbreak."

"Turgistan is shaping up to look very risky," Five agrees, "so it's better to grab hold of whatever happiness you can find while you can."

"Easier said than done."

One has left to hopefully recruit a Seven, it's hot as balls out, and you're in desperate need of a cool down. You have the perfect place- an above ground pool set inside the hangar that's the furthest away- but you're just missing the company. Two is a no-go because of her new shadow that comes in the form of Three, and Four is- well he's Four. You text Five, but she's busy going over some medical texts to keep her mind sharp, so you reluctantly text Four in the end.

You ask him if he fancy's a swim, much to his amusement, and then tell him to meet you at the hangar that's on the far West side of the airfield if he's up to it.

With your swimsuit on underneath a tank top and shorts, you head for the hangar. Wally walks beside you, keeping you company, tail then wagging excitedly when he realizes just where exactly it is you're going. And since the pool had been prepared earlier that morning, all you have to do is slide open the hangar door and open up the slates in the ceiling to allow a bit more light and air draft in.

There's a wooden deck surrounding the pool and Wally excitedly runs up the stairs.

"Don't, Wally. Stay!"

Steps away from jumping into the refreshing water, Wally freezes and then whines impatiently. You chuckle as you walk up the stairs yourself, you then stripping down to your bathing suit and setting up some music to play from a tablet on a nearby lounger. The music resonates from speakers hanging in the two back corners of the hangar, but it's not too loud that it'd mask any sensors being tripped around the airfield. And the second you dive into the refreshing water, Wally dives in after you.

Wally doggie paddles for about fifteen seconds before giving in and swimming over to the steps leading out of the pool, he then lounging on the top most step so he could keep his body submerged while laying his head on the deck and out of the water. You huff laugh before taking a couple of laps around the pool, then when you tire of that you climb into a floating mesh pool chair and drift leisurely.

You've made it through three songs before you sense another presence, your eyes fluttering open to the sight of Four standing at the ledge of the pool.

"I thought you were joking about going for a swim," he muses. "How'd you swing this set-up?"

"Before One started recruiting the rest of you numbers, it was just me and him here. We got into a really heated argument early on and I nearly called it quits on him, but I was just being a moody bitch and decided to distance myself before making any drastic decisions," you tell Four. "I pitched the idea of having my own space far away from him and so long as I could get it done, then I could have it."

"And you chose a pool?"

"Well yeah. One's not allowed in here so I figured I'd make my space a place where someone would want to escape to in the desert heat. I like rubbing it in his face that he's not allowed in here. Serves him right for hurting my feelings."

Four chuckles. "I'm honored then."

"You should be. The only people who know about this place is One and now you. Six knew, but he apparently took that secret to the grave." Four's expression softens a bit and you grin at him. "So are you coming in or what? It's nice and cool," you muse. Then holding your gaze, Four quirks an eyebrow at you before stripping off his shirt. Your eyes narrow in an attempt to keep them from wandering down his pale torso and he has the audacity to smirk at you. "I hate you," you mumble.

"Nah. I don't think you do." His pants are next to go and the cheeky bastard strips down to his boxer briefs before diving into the water. When he resurfaces, he smooths back his blonde hair and them swims over to you. "So what are we going to do now that you've got me stripped down?"

You snort. "Nothing, you prat. I seriously only asked you out here for a swim."

"Then let's swim." He smiles devilishly at you and your narrow your eyes. He inches closer and you start to kick your feet in order to move your float away.

"Don't. You. Dare."

"Oh. I dare." Four upends your floating chair and you squeal as he dumps you back under the water. When you resurface, you splash him. "You fucking dick."

"What?" He laughs.

You and Four then spend the next several minutes chasing after one another, splashing and dunking each other. Even Wally gets in on the fun, but he only lasts a handful of seconds before he swims back to his step.

Then when you and Four tire of the water, you both swim over to the side of the pool. You think nothing of his closeness until you pull yourself out to sit on the edge, only for him to remain right in front of you as his hands slowly wrap around to your calves. Instantly, the atmosphere around you becomes a bit oppressive and the energy between you and Four is suddenly electrified.

You gulp. "What are you-"

"Just testing a theory, love."

"Yeah? And what theory would that be?"

Four smirks as he nudges your knees just enough apart so his torso fits between them. Then with hands settled on the deck on either side of your thighs, he uses his upper body strength to push himself up so he's towering slightly over you. As you slightly lean back, you gulp yet again as you come nose to nose with him. His eyes dart over your every feature as your heart hammers inside your chest, but before any progress or objection can be made, someone else makes it for you.

"When the fuck did we get a pool?" Three's voice rings out. Wally barks in response.

You sigh in relief, Four quietly groans before dropping back into the water, and you pull your legs out so you can stand up. Then just as you've picked up a towel from one of the loungers, you see Two and Three appear at the top of the deck stairs.

"We didn't get a pool," you tell Three as you wrap yourself up. "I got the pool a while back."

"Mhmm," Two drawls. "And how convenient Four is the only one who apparently knew about it." You blush as her knowing gaze darts to the boy in question who's lazily swimming laps.

"He literally found out about it an hour ago," you tell her. "I would have invited you, but I knew Three would have tagged along."

"Hey!"

You grin at his affronted expression. "No offense. I just wasn't ready for your energy yet, but I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

"Oh. It is." Three eagerly strips down to his own boxer briefs, he cannon-balling into the pool. Immediately, he and Four start to play fight.

Two walks over to you, shaking her head as she stares down at the two squabbling men. "We work with idiots."

"Really hot idiots," you mumble.

Two turns to look at you and when you catch her gaze, you see the corner of her mouth twitch up into a smile. For some reason, seeing her amusement rather than hearing an admonishment seems to make you breath a little easier.

Fingers flying over your keyboard, you gaze darts over the several screens you have control over. Some screens are nothing but coding, while others are surveillance cameras around the airfield and traffic cams you've hacked into. You're so caught up in what you're doing that the door sliding open at your back startles you.

Immediately grabbing the gun beneath your desk, you twirl your chair around and take aim. Four and the newly recruited Seven hold their hands up. Sighing, you roll your eyes before lowering your weapon and setting it on the desk. "Really, Four? Couldn't have given me a heads up?"

"Sorry, love." The way he's smirking, you know he's not sorry at all. Seven frowns at Four's pet name for you, but you pay his reaction no mind. "Just thought I'd introduce our newest number."

"Mhm." Glancing at Seven, you offer him a faint grin. "Nice to meet you. I'm Oz."

"Seven," he says. He then glances around the room as he and Four enter fully, and you twirl back around before continuing your work. "What exactly do you do?" You hear him ask. "When One gave me the rundown of the team, you weren't mentioned."

"She and One practically built this place," Four says. "Oz is literally the man- er, woman- behind the curtain around here. If you hadn't been introduced to her, you'd have never known she was here."

Huffing a laugh, you say, "Still a bit bitter about me living under your noses for months, are you?" After punching a few more keys, you whirl back around and stand up to address Seven. "Tell One he's getting sloppy. I picked you up on three different traffic cams and had to delete your trail."

"She's also a smarty-pants," Four muses.

"And I also make the best toys," you tell Seven. "So if you need anything or want anything, run it by me and I'll do my best to get it for you. One likes to treat you all like pawns in his missions and have no connections to you, but you guys have killed yourselves to join this team. You made yourselves ghosts to rid the world of truly horrific people, so I'm going to do my damn best and take care of you ghosts."

Four grins. "We're hers, in case you didn't pick up on it."

"Don't be a wanker," you retort, snorting when he pouts at your use of his slang. "But yes, Four is right. You ghosts are mine and I take care of what's mine."

Seven chuckles quietly. "You are not someone I expected to be on One's team."

"One's rules are in place for a reason," you say, now smiling sadly. "I recently learned the hard way, but I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment." His expression falters and you sigh. "Well if you boys will excuse me, I've got a dog to feed and errands to run. I'll see you around."

Four and Seven watch as Oz gathers a few files, she then quickly taking her leave. And as soon as she's out the door, Seven turns to Four.

"What did she mean by learning the hard way? One come down on her about something?"

"Oz and Six became close- like brother and sister," he says while leading Seven out of the room. "We didn't know about her being here until One realized someone had to tell her about Six's death. Two told her the news and we tagged along. It was our first meeting."

He whistles lowly. "Talk about a shitty first meeting."

"Yeah. No kidding."

"And her being a glutton for punishment? Is that because she cares for the other ghosts or because there's something between you and her?"

Four barks out a laugh. "Picked up on that, did you?"

"Kind of hard not to."

"Yeah." Four sighs. "Me and Oz, it's complicated. We've acknowledged the chemistry, but she's also made it known that she doesn't want to break anymore of One's trust."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Gotta be, mate. Oz is.. special. She's someone I want in my life, be it a friend or something more later on down the road. I'm okay with waiting."

"You're that confident, huh?" Seven chuckles. "Good luck with that, man."

It doesn't take long for One to come up with a decent plan for the big takeover, the first part of their mission coming up in Las Vegas where the Four Generals were going to be. You had sat in the back of the room while One explained what they were going to be doing, compiling lists of outfits, weapons, and gadgets the team would be needing.

Then the day comes when the team is to take off and you follow them to the plane. You don't know why, but the idea of them going on this particular mission is giving you anxiety.

Upon arriving at the plane stairs, Three immediately walks up them and disappears inside with a barely mumbled, "See you on the other side, chiquita."

One, Two, Four, Five, and Seven linger around and you sigh as you look around at all of them. "Well I would tell you all to be safe, but I know how dumb you guys all are." Two cracks a grin as Four, Five, and Seven snicker. "So Five, please keep them in one piece until you get back home."

Five laughs. "No promises, but I will do my best."

Five then boards the plane, followed by a winking Two. Seven is still chuckling as he gives you a one-armed hug and One grumbles at all the affection going around. One follows after Seven and then you're left alone with Four.

"If we make it back alive, you and I are going out."

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. "The rules-"

"Fuck the rules, Oz." Four steps closer to you- close enough to grasp you by the back of your head and reel you in. You gasp, but his lips land on your forehead instead of where you were momentarily fearing. "If we win, you and I are going on vacation away from One and his rules. Sound good?"

"I-" You trail off, sighing. One's rules were a bit ridiculous, but you understood why he didn't want anyone getting close. Their jobs were highly dangerous and if anyone became comprised, their significant other became compromised and the whole mission would be in jeopardy. And that was a no-no. But you were only human and living the life of a ghost was rather lonely. So against your better judgement you give in, your hands landing on Four's waist as you angle your head up to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. "Come back home to me and we'll talk about it."

Four practically beams, but before he can retort One is poking his head back out. "For fuck's sake, Four. Get your ass on the plane!"

You hadn't realized how much Six's death impacted you until the team took off again. You were fine for the first couple of hours, keeping yourself busy with Wally and doing a bit of light shopping, but then you started feeling anxious. The airfield was too quiet and you immediately started to miss Four's random drop-ins.

You started off by cleaning your trailer, then moving onto One's since he had given you permission to be in there when he wasn't. Two's trailer was off limits, Three's was a nightmare, and Five's was impeccable. You were hesitant to enter Four's trailer, but he had no problem with you in his space so you went ahead and went in. His trailer, however, was only slightly messy so you picked up his dirty dishes and took out the trash. There were a few articles of clothing scattered around on the floor, so you picked them up and threw them in the small hamper located next to his bed. Then without even thinking about it, you grabbed one of his clean shirts to later wear.

You eat dinner at a decent time and then set up in your trailer's front room with several laptops. One has a secret burner phone that he texts you updates from, letting you know when a special device is in place at the hotel the Four Generals are to be staying at the following day. And with the device in place, you're able to hack into their security feed.

The following day the plan is set into motion. You follow Two and Three's every move through the hotel, snorting at the shitty job they've done of putting on their prosthetics. You watch as Three shoots someone through the peephole of a door and as soon as they disappear inside, you get started on deleting their digital footprint that led them up to the Generals' room. You leave their appearance in and around the casino, and even doctor some footage of them during the time of the murders to give them an alibi. Then checking all camera angles outside that might have caught Seven sniping from another building, you give One the all clear.

The Las Vegas mission is a success and then your stomach drops when One informs you they'll be heading to Hong Kong. He'll be radio silent which means you'll be in the dark. You'll only know if they've succeeded via news outlets should they pick up on the coup taking place.

Two and a half days later, shit goes down.

It's almost four in the morning when every alert you have on any news of Turgistan go off. You jump out of bed and scramble for your laptops, turning on your TV. Every news station is covering the coup taking place. Your heart hammers frantically, your stomach cramps, and you're on the edge of your seat.

Then you see it. Rovach Alimov has been caught by a group of vigilantes and his brother Murat is to take his place as President after they've delivered Rovach to a village of people who all want revenge.

So with the mission successful, your only worry is whether everyone made it out or not.

You doze in and out of sleep throughout the rest of the day, shooting One a text to get in touch with you asap. Around dinner time, you then get a text message that has you laughing but also very confused.

[Your boy is relatively fine. Broken arm. Don't break his heart because I'll have to be a dick and still side with you.]

Wondering where the hell One's sudden change of heart has come from, you stare blankly at your phone until another text comes through.

[BTW, Two and Four are fucking. If I see Four's lily white ass around base, I am allowed in your pool and there's not a damn thing you can say about it.]

Now laughing uncontrollably, you decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You agree to his terms and then find out they should be in the following afternoon. So with more than enough time to finally get a good sleep-in, you make sure Wally has enough food and water before going to sleep now that you're not so anxious.

Hours later, when you finally wake feeling refreshed, you prepare for the team's arrival. You know that as soon as they get to their trailers you won't see them for a few hours as they decompress, so you make sure to time your little surprise perfectly.

Strategically placing speakers around the runway where the team will be unloading, you sync up a particular song in preparation. You know it'll annoy One, but the others ought to get a kick out of it.

You're watching for the plane, and when it lands butterflies take flight in your stomach. The minutes seem to drag on as the plane finally comes to a stop and as soon as the stairs are lowered, you start the song.

As everyone disembarks and slightly spreads out, you start to jog towards them as they make their way towards you. Halfway to them, you stop and spread your arms out at your sides. You scream and then whoop for their victory, and then blare the music coming from the speakers by pressing a button on the phone in your pocket. From far away, you can see Three, Four, Five, and Seven chuckling at you.

"'Cause we're gonna be legends! Gonna get their attention. What we're doing here ain't just scary, it's about to be legendary. Yeah we're gonna be legends. Gonna teach 'em all a lesson. Got this feeling that we're so sweet caring, it's about to be legendary."

Seven throws his arms up in the air, hollering, and you laugh before moving again. This time your path is directly towards Four, but you make sure to be extra careful of his arm in a sling as you meet him toe to toe. Immediately he pulls you into a kiss and you can't help but smile when you hear Five and Seven catcalling you.

As you pull back, you can't keep the smile off your face as you and Four stare at one another. Momentarily breaking eye contact with him, you pull out the phone in your pocket and stop the music. "You made it," you then tell Four.

"I almost didn't," he sheepishly admits. "Blaine saved my arse and then One nearly compromised the mission for me in the end."

Brow furrowing, you glance around at the lingering team. "Blaine?" Seven raises his hand and waves, and your eyebrows raise in surprise. "When did we start using our old names?"

"When One was about to leave your boy dangling several stories up and I made the call to save him."

"Wait. What?" You whirl on One and he sighs dramatically.

"Oh don't give me that look. See this is why I had rules in place about not getting too close," One says, pointing between you and Four, and Two and Three. "But since Two and Three are fucking, I can't exactly say anything about you wanting to get into Four's pants! Which, by the way, ew."

"Oi!" Four exclaims, but you just snort.

Leaning into Four's side so he can lay his uninjured arm around your shoulders, you look out at everyone else. Two catches your gaze, grinning. "Name's Camille."

"Javier," Three says, grabbing Camille's hand in his own. Surprisingly, she lets him.

"Amelia," Five then introduces herself.

Everyone looks at One, but he rolls his eyes. "You're all still calling me One. Now if you'll excuse me, my bed is calling my name."

As One takes his leave, your attention goes back to those surrounding you. "Y/N," you then say. Looking up at Four, you grin. "My name is Y/N."

"Hello, Y/N. I'm Billy."

"And on that note, I think we should be leaving the lovebirds alone." Javier chuckles at Blaine's statement, but nonetheless everyone takes the hint and follows after the dark skinned man.

Once everyone has given you their backs, you turn so you're practically chest to chest with Billy and gently grasp his face in your hands. You pull him into a kiss, pecking his lips once, then twice, and chuckle softly. "I've been wanting to do that since One showed me your file."

"Yeah? Anything else you've wanted to do?"

"Oh. Loads," you muse, smirking, and nipping his bottom lip. "But we're not getting up to that until Five gives you the okay."

Billy groans. "You're such a tease."

"And don't you forget it." Hooking your arm through his, you then start dragging him towards the trailers. "Now come on. Wally's missed you. You're sleeping in mine until my anxiety goes away."

"Aw you missed me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get to your head."

#fanficimagery #imagine #6 underground x reader #6 underground imagine #6 underground #billy x reader #four x reader #four/billy x reader #one #two #four #four imagine #billy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine

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mulderist · 4 years ago

Text

Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 9

Hegal Place

Alexandria, VA

My footfalls echoed down the hallway as I approached the front door. With a firm push it swung open and I descended the short brick staircase to the sidewalk. I surveyed the familiar rowhomes across the street; small front yards bordered by thin wrought iron fences. A small child was being led by the hand down the steps of one brownstone. I waited for the kid and her mother to walk up the block then I chose the opposite direction. An older model Packard chugged down the otherwise quiet street, coughing an exhaust smoke signal as it passed. That driver should probably see his mechanic sooner rather than later.

As I walked I felt my holster sticking into my right ribs, suppose that’s what I get for hastily slipping it on. It was enough of an annoyance to force me to focus on the task at hand; finding Alex Krycek. The steady afternoon breeze brought in clouds but not enough to predict rain. I still had a few hours before sunset and wished for a drier evening than my previous outing. I sighed and hoped Scully found herself a cab.

A dog bark caught my attention and I saw an excited yellow Labrador happily wagging a tail at an average looking man. As I moved to get a better view I saw the dog connected to a leash being held by a young woman. The average man gave the dog a gentle pat on the head and must have felt my stare because he straightened up and let the woman and her furry companion pass by. I knew it was him by the way he watched the woman walk away. Krycek slipped his hands into his pockets and stood firm on the spot. I ran through a dozen different scenarios of how I would approach him; close-quarters-combat, a strong right hook, or a simple shot to the leg. I honestly didn’t want to draw too much attention. The challenge was having a conversation without sounding like two territorial alleycats. Right as I finished my thought, Krycek took off around the corner.

I swore to myself and tightly gripped the butt of my gun as I followed in pursuit. A footrace was certainly not where I wanted this to go. My lungs burned while my feet pounded against the sidewalk, a stern reminder that I needed to resume my visits to the campus track. There was a flash of a jacket down what I assumed was an alleyway. I slowed my pace and found a proper hold on my gun. I pressed against the brick wall, careful to hide my position until the right moment. Like so many times before I took a deep inhale and with the exhale I glanced around the corner. I ducked back to avoid Krycek’s fist, then I charged forward pushing him farther into the alley. He stumbled and tried a quick jab to my stomach. I tightened up right as he made contact and in return I let my gun give him a kiss on the cheek. Krycek doubled over and spat on the ground. With both hands I grabbed him by the shirt I tossed him against the wall, the tip of my Browning wedged into his abdomen.

“You know as well as I do that a bullet to the gut is a slow way to go,” I said with my left arm braced across his chest, “So you better talk.”

“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” Krycek grumbled with a crimson smile. I quickly frisked him, found his Walther and relieved him of it. I pressed my weapon back into his stomach then said,

“A little birdie told me you were at Washington General earlier today.”

“Is that so?” he mumbled.

“Cut the shit, Krycek,” I responded, applying more pressure to his chest, inching my forearm closer to his throat. He choked out a laugh,

“The redhead! Ah Mulder you sure can pick ‘em.”

“Leave her out of this!” My gun pressed harder into the soft surface of his abdomen. I saw him wince and I twisted my hand hoping I found a nerve,

“Damnit,” he hissed, “I only gave her some friendly advice.”

“Stay away from her,” I growled. He shook his head disapprovingly with a limited range of movement.

“Oh now I get it. You’re sweet on her, aren’t you --ah! -- jesus!” His assumption was cut short thanks in part to my weapon stabbing him in between the ribs. I cocked my gun and felt my jaw clench as he struggled.

“Red got herself involved when she worked on that autopsy,” Krycek sputtered.

I eased up a bit, put the hammer back down but still held my aim.

“What do you mean? Who was the stiff?” I asked, uncertain if I was going to get a truthful answer. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“A nobody by all accounts.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” I shrugged and felt like this was starting to become a waste of my time.

“The body wasn’t disposed of properly. He never should have ended up at the hospital morgue.”

Finally, some clarity. It’s as though the sea of confusion was at low tide, revealing an answer like shells on the shore. I witnessed it myself that night at the Navy Yard. They thought the cabbie would just float downriver and disappear. Now they wanted to cover their tracks as soon as that body washed up near the marina. Scully was just doing her job in the wrong place at the wrong time. Scully. I had to get back to the precinct.

“Are we done, Mulder?” Krycek asked, breaking my concentration. My attention snapped back as he was fixing his shirt.

“Not quite,” I said as I tentatively put my gun back in the holster, “I want to know one other thing; tell me your connection to Spender.”

“Spender?” Krycek’s voice was now hampered with a slur, “God, I am so tired of hearing that name.”

“Talk.”

“It’s like I told you before,” he gestured, “Spender was a hophead. Got a taste of the stuff when he was investigating Vincenti. Do you remember that tip I sold you about four months ago? Turns out your partner wanted to have a private meeting with Vincenti’s second in command. Detective Spender dealt himself right into the drug game on the government’s dime.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because,” Krycek coughed out, “Carlo Lodi told me.”

My mind worked like playing cards being shuffled, each revelation waterfalled onto another until the deck was stacked.

“You told Lodi to put the hit on Spender,” I said pointedly.

“I’m a snitch,” he stated a little too simply for my taste. “Frankly I had had enough of being the information errand boy, so I sold him out. Your partner thought he could muscle in on Vincenti’s pushers and try to expand the trade routes, so to speak. The elder Spender got wise and to keep things kosher with Vincenti and his boys, he ordered a hit.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say Spender’s father?”

“Who do you think helps keep the peace?” he replied rhetorically. I thought for a moment and chided myself for not seeing far enough up the ladder.

“Whose side are you on, Krycek?”

“My own,” he curtly answered, “I don’t care if the mob kills the whole lot of you.”

“As long as you get box seats to the show,” I said. He chuckled and spit a trail of red once again onto the pavement. There wasn’t much more I could add. No more interrogation to give. I returned his Walther and left the alley.

------

After a less than ideal cab ride, I arrived at the precinct and bypassed the front desk, heading straight for the stairwell. As I descended the steps I tried to think of how I would untangle this web I found myself in. I never fully trusted Krycek, apparently Spender did. The new information was swirling in my head and I needed to pin down the facts before I approached Skinner. But first I needed to talk to Frohike and the boys.

The door to their department was ajar, sending a quick surge of adrenaline to my chest. I pushed the door open further and entered the lab, relieved when I saw Langley flipping through a thick-bound book.

“You guys should really put a lock on that door,” I began, “never know what’ll wander in here.”

He chuckled and quipped that instead I should have a bell around my neck so they’d know when I was coming. I asked if Scully had arrived and he directed me around the corner where I practically bowled over Frohike, who clutched a blanket to his chest. I raised an eyebrow.

“I uh -- this was for our guest,” Frohike said softly. I reached over and he relinquished it, then I gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. Scully was curled into the threadbare sofa, she looked exhausted. It surprised me to see an actual piece of furniture in the lab, though I’m sure they needed something other than an army cot for those overnight cases. I unfolded the blanket and gently laid it over her sleeping frame. The sudden weight caused Scully to stir, eyelashes fluttered against the makeshift pillow of her hand. I crouched down and heard a hum escape her lips.

“Glad you made it,” she said with eyes still closed.

“True to my word,” I replied. She turned her head away from her hand and slowly blinked open her eyes.

“Did you find him?”

“I did. We had a friendly chat and a smoke.”

“What actually happened?” she asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“He took a swing at me and I shoved him into an alley; he won’t bother you again. As it turns out, my former informant has his finger in just about every dish on the crime buffet.” I tried to adjust the blanket which had slipped down her shoulder but her arm snaked out, fingers pressed tenderly against my forearm.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Rest for a little bit. I’ll be back,” I left her with a kiss on the forehead then went to round up the boys.

Langley passed by and I gestured for him and Frohike to join me, moving towards the exam tables on the opposite side of the lab. Byers suddenly emerged from the front door with a binder in hand and I waved him over as he muttered something about a body coming in for autopsy.

“Mulder you look like something’s on your mind,” Frohike said.

“Krycek was the one who confronted Scully at the hospital,” I relayed, “After twisting some truth out of him, he told me the body she did an autopsy on should never have been found. He can’t be trusted.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Langley, scratching at a blonde temple.

“I need to give a report to Skinner, he needs to know it was Krycek that put the hit out on Spender.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph it was all true,” Byers exclaimed as he folded his arms.

“We still need to find out who killed Lodi and his henchman,” I said, running a hand over my neck, “It had to come from whoever is at the top of the food chain.”

“Do you think Krycek could actually be pulling the strings? I mean he’s basically been lying to you from the start,” Frohike countered, pushing the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. I nearly laughed aloud but thought long and hard at the potential of Krycek being a crime boss. It would be a hell of a curve ball to try and take a swing at. Langley, Byers, and Frohike exchanged looks as I continued to ponder the question.

“No,” I said, “but I appreciate the creativity. He isn’t loyal to either the DCPD or Vincenti’s mafia family. The profile I’ve developed is that he’s a man who would just like to sit back and watch the city burn.”

The shrill sound of a telephone ring interrupted our conversation. It continued until Frohike broke away to answer it. I heard him agree with the party on the other line, then he shot a glance in my direction. He nodded then quickly hung up.

“The Captain must have a sixth sense or have a bug somewhere down here,” Frohike said as he walked back over.

“I certainly hope we’re not bugged,” Byers responded with a quick look up at the ceiling.

“He wants me upstairs?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Double time,” quipped Frohike. I rolled my shoulders and as I turned to leave I heard a new voice say,

“Leaving so soon.”

The boys seemed to scatter, save for Frohike who was glued to the spot when Scully stepped into the main area of the lab. Her stark white nurse uniform fit a little too perfectly amongst the shelves of science and macabre medical arts. She approached me and Frohike got the hint, trying to busy himself with tidying up the counter behind him.

“The boss is requesting my presence,” I told her, “And I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to him as well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, a look of concern in her eyes, “I could give a statement about what happened.”

“Sorry Scully, this invite is for a party of one.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Planned on it, unless they burn me at the stake.”

“So dramatic,” she shook her head and reached for my hand with slender fingers. With a quick squeeze she added, “As much as you hate to hear this, I’m involved now. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. Let me help where I can.”

I saw Byers timidly approach out of the corner of my eye.

“Excuse me Miss Scully,” he said with a kind wave, “there is a body due to arrive for an autopsy if you’d like to observe.”

“I’m sure we could use her assistance,” Frohike piped up, “that is, if she wouldn’t mind.”

I tried to think of a jab but she silenced me. She gave a pleasant smile in their direction then leaned a little closer, the faint scent of her perfume hit my senses.

“Go. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

I got caught in her blue eyes, only able to manage a simple nod of agreement. My hand slipped from hers and I left the quiet of the forensic lab, bracing myself for the roar of the bullpen and Captain Skinner.

#i wrote this #historical au #xf fanfic #mulder pov #my fic #noir fiction #hey look an update #xfiles

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yungidreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Claimed

Summary: An intruder enters the territory of Chan and his pack, attacking people and causing havoc. Seemingly by chance he saves a victim that turns out to be his mate, but as fate would have it, he happens to be a wolf at the time. How will he protect her, come clean, and claim his mate?

Word count: 8.2k

Content warnings: slightly dark themes, a werewolf serial killer who is a vindictive asshole, impregnation kink, marking, minor descriptions of violence, sort of stalking, sort of possessive behavior. Some cursing.

Music: Come Out by Lenise Morales and War of Hearts by Ruelle

“Come on, boy,” she said, patting her leg and holding out the leash. “Let’s go on a walk before it gets too late.” Chan hopped up off his round dog bed near the couch, wagging his tail as he came to her. He sat patiently, turning his head to let her reach the leather collar she had put on his neck. Jesus, his pack mates would be in hysterics if they saw him like this, he thought to himself. But he could have endured the embarrassment for her.

How had he ended up like this? Really, it was a mix of destiny and bad luck on both of their parts. He honestly never thought he would meet his mate when he was in his wolf form and hurt on top of it. Fights weren’t something he got into that often and something he avoided when he could, but that night three months ago he had caught that piece of shit lone wolf stalking her.

Why the loner had picked her, he had no idea, but Chan had to be grateful in some ways. How long would it have been before he ran across her if not for that? Jesus, what if he had gotten there too late? He didn’t want to think about it.

That night he had been sent to track the interloper that had been causing havoc in their territory. He was the first of the pack to actually find him, which must have been luck since Minho was generally the best tracker and Changbin a close second. They had taken the two days before and barely missed catching him at the no-tell motel he had been staying at and at some restaurant where he had mauled some poor woman heading home after her shift. Changbin had been furious with himself for not tracking him fast enough and had been the one to find her bloodied and crying near the back door of the restaurant. He had shifted back to human and called 911, telling them he had been passing by when he heard her crying, a plausible enough story not to raise any suspicion. Besides as far as anyone involved knew, it was a rabid dog attack… a massive rabid dog.

Tracking was exhausting work and got shared amongst all the members of the pack. The third night had been his job and he had taken a neighborhood near the one he had been stalking, suspecting he had moved his hunting grounds but not that far. His hunch had been right, but it was pure luck that he had come across the scent of the intruder as he patrolled, just hoping to catch some hint, some clue.

That whiff had pulled him down an alley and into the strip mall parking lot of the craft store. For the life of him, he could not figure out why on earth he would pick this sort of place. The parking lot was half empty since most of the stores were already closed… except the big hobby shop. The sodium orange lights of the parking lot had flickered and buzzed, bothering his sensitive senses and it must have done the same for the lone wolf… so why on earth would he choose to hunt here.

Chan had spotted him, in human form, leaning casually on a planter half a dozen meters from the entrance to the store taking a drag on a hand rolled cigarette. He had let out an involuntary huffing sneeze, hating the smell as it drifted to him. That had given him away. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense that he was a fellow werewolf, no dog would have been wandering around alone in a parking lot here, like this, at this hour.

“I’m surprised you found me, rover,” the loner had chuckled, self-satisfied and amused. “I would have let you guys be, but you couldn’t just let me hunt a little.” Chan had growled as he watched him stand up, letting the shadows and flickering lights obscure his face as he pulled himself into a standing position. He had moved fast, charging at Chan and drawing a knife just before he got within an arm's length of him. Chan dodged but not fast enough, and the knife caught him in the ribs, grazing over a couple of them before he could dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Fuck,” the man yelled, punching Chan in the jaw to force him to let go. Stars sparkled in his vision and pain sliced through him as the knife slid along his collarbone and upper leg. He had gotten one last swipe in before retreating, leaving Chan bloodied and limping.

A safe place to shift was what he had needed, there surely would have been someplace nearby, a little alcove or alley between a couple of the shops, but before he could get very far, she had stepped out of the store, locking up and leaving for the night. Chan froze. He had been slinking away, slowly trying to get out of view, but was still very clearly in view when she had stepped out. His pain had blinded him to other sensations at first, but even before she turned and saw him, it hit him like a freight train.

Mine the sensation said with a ferocity he had never felt before. Why he had to find his mate like this, he had no idea. He wasn’t particularly unlucky. He didn’t spend tons of time as a wolf either. His pack was pretty chill and was pretty careful to stay below the radar. Their territory was safe and they were known for not being overly territorial, letting people pass through without a problem so long as they left and didn’t make problems. So how he ran across her while he was shifted and injured was just stupidly bad luck.

She had gasped when she finally turned around and saw him, but who wouldn’t when they turned around to see a massive dog behind them limping and bleeding. A moment’s fear had shot through her at the sight until Chan had whimpered, flattening himself on the pavement to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey puppy,” she said softly, putting out her hand for him to sniff as she leaned down, slowly coming closer. “Can I take a look at you?”

Yes please, he thought, rolling gently onto his uninjured side.

“What on earth happened to you… boy?” She asked, catching sight of his belly. “I don’t suppose you are going to make this easy on me and would just get in my car if I brought it around?” She sighed and patted his head. Rubbing his head into her hand, he rolled back over and pulled himself up to stand again. “Maybe you can just come with me, hmmm?” Standing up, she started to move towards her car, keeping an eye on him as he slowly limped behind her. She opened the back door to her car and patted the seat, inviting him to hop in, which he did quite happily. “Well at least that was easy.” She observed, closing the door behind him as he laid down on the back seat. “Now we just have to go spend my whole paycheck at the emergency vets.”

Sorry, he said to her in his head. I’ll pay you back when I can. Pain pulsed through him as the city lights swished over him in the back seat. The emergency vet clinic was only a half an hour away but that was way longer than he would have ever wanted to have to lay bleeding in the backseat of a car. In fact, he really was sure he could have gone his whole damn life without knowing what that felt like.

He was tough, he was the alpha of the group, though he didn’t enforce a hard hierarchy like some did. They were more family than anything else. They looked out for each other, did their part, contributed in any way that they could. It worked well for them and everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It was just his job to be the final voice when decisions needed to be made or to speak for the group when dealing with outsiders.

“Can you get up, pup?” She asked when she opened the door in the parking lot of the vet’s office. Chan nodded, though it probably didn’t look like it, what with being a dog and all, and stood up on slightly shaky limbs. Thank god they were close, he thought to himself as he stepped out the door and onto the pavement.

“I need some help please,” she said as they stepped through the automatic sliding door of the clinic.

“Oh my god,” the woman behind the counter said when she caught sight of him, picking up the phone on the desk and hitting a couple of buttons. “Doctor West we need you in reception now please, and bring whoever is back there to help.” She hung up the phone and dashed out from behind the desk. “What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said looking down at Chan as she kept a hand on his head. “I was just coming out of work and found him like this in the parking lot. Maybe he got cut getting out of a yard or went through a window or something?”

The receptionist had shrugged, it seemed like as good an explanation as any. They had taken him back, stitched him up and scanned him for an ID chip, which, shocker, he didn’t have. With no one else seemingly accountable for him, she had decided to take him home, saying she would try and find his owners. For now, she would pay for the vet bills and she just had to hope whoever owned him would pay her back. Though honestly, given the shape he was in, she wasn’t holding out hope there was someone, or at least someone responsible.

That was how he had ended up here and stuck in his canine form way more than he was used to. The one upside was that he was with her. She had spent a couple of weeks hanging up posters with his picture, but eventually just decided to adopt him herself, leaving him in the weirdest bind he could imagine.

The first few days he had stayed just because everything hurt too much to do anything else. I’ll change back soon, he told himself, I just need the stitches to heal a little first. Then one evening when she came home he could smell him and cigarettes on her and his heart had clenched. The loner had been there for her? For his mate? At that moment, that realization he had a feeling he never would have thought possible. Thank god I was the one that got stabbed. That had settled it. He had to be there, he had to stay and protect her, at least until the intruder was caught.

Not long after that he had shifted when she was off at work, finally getting in touch with his pack. After the understandable chewing out he let Jisung give him since he had basically disappeared without a word for DAYS, he explained what had happened and told him to pick someone to shadow her while she was out or at work. Jisung agreed, letting out a low whistle at the story and the news that he had found his mate. Chan left the details to him and the others, still not feeling even 50% if he had to be honest. He trusted them and for now, he was stuck.

Now it had been three months and the loner was still on the loose and still in their territory. They had no idea why and he had only attacked one person since that night. Now and again, when she came home from work, he would smell him on her, and still other times, he would catch the smell of the loner when they walked through the neighborhood. But it was never enough, never that fresh, and he had no idea how he was flitting around so close yet so far.

Jisung had the brilliant idea of getting one of them hired to work with her at the craft store. Chan had to admit, it had been a good idea, it kept someone close, but it probably wouldn’t have been the solution he would have wanted. Smelling Changbin on her every night when she came home from work rankled him an unbelievable amount, despite the fact that he knew nothing was happening with them. But between smelling his pack mate and the loner on her, and being unable to do anything with her aside from pretending to be her pet was going to drive him mad.

How on earth was he supposed to tell her who he really was? Buck also couldn’t just disappear. And yes, she had named him after the dog in Call of the Wild which was both adorable and painful. She was attached to him...just the wrong him. He needed to come clean but, aside from breaking to her that werewolves existed at all, something that would most likely freak her out, saying, surprise (!) you know that dog you’ve been letting sleep in your bed and changing in front of… well, he’s actually a guy. Because, you know, that would go over really well.

So that was how he ended up on the end of her leash, heading out for a walk. If he didn’t have to do this as a dog and have to make a show of going to the bathroom on these walks, he would be far happier. It was nice being out with her, he just wanted to be able to do it as a person, maybe holding her hand, though he might have tolerated a collar and leash if she really liked it for some reason.

Chan walked ahead of her, scenting the air as they made their evening loop of the neighborhood. All seemed well and normal for the most part, at least for the first half of the walk. But as they made the turn that would head them back towards home the scent of the loner drifted across their path. Chan stopped, causing her to bump into him and make a little sound of surprise as she accidentally stepped on one of his back feet.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” She asked, looking in the direction he was looking. “Did you see something?” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer and, after pausing for a few seconds, she moved past him, trying to snap him into moving again. Chan stepped in front of her, preventing her from going as he tried to place where the scent was coming from. “Come on, boy, I want to go home.”

I know, he said mentally, willing for her to understand him. Trust me, me too. Suddenly he saw it, the shape of another of his kind skulking on the other side of a cinder block wall. It’s dark chestnut fur moved slightly in the breeze as the animal stayed stock still. In a split second, it dashed back behind the wall and Chan gave chase. He pulled his leash out of her hand, sending a mental apology to her, and immediately gave chase. He couldn’t let this just keep going on. She called out his name, well the name she had given him, as he disappeared behind the wall, giving chase.

Quick as a flash, he saw the tail disappear around the back of the house on the other side of the block wall. He skidded around the corner, keeping the scent trail of the intruder under his nose. The chase led him through alleys and back yards as they ran and dodged. Finally he saw him disappear over a high fence and Chan lept after him, feeling like he was finally gaining on him.

When he landed he heard a snap and knew immediately that he had made a mistake. A sharp pain shot through his front leg. It had all been a plan, been a trap to get him here, to get him trapped… and to leave her alone. He had never really felt as stupid as he did right now. He finally gathered the will to look down at his leg to see it clasped in a leg hold trap, cut and bleeding, but thankfully not broken, probably by sheer luck. He couldn’t run like this and he had to get back to her.

With a gulp, he changed back, needing the dexterity of human hands to get out of the contraption. It pinched harder, stinging his nerves as his leg turned into an arm, thickening in the vice like grip. It took him a moment to stop seeing stars and then another to figure out how to press down the sides of the trap to open it. When he was finally free, he looked around. He had to get out but running around naked and bleeding was a great way to get the cops called on him.

Making his way to the edge of the neighboring yard, he looked over the wall to see laundry hanging on a line outside. He hopped over the wall and took a t-shirt and some pants, promising to try to remember to bring them back when he could. Once he was dressed, he ran. He ran towards where he had left her; ran like his life depended on it. Ran because hers probably did. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed back to where he had left her.

Suddenly he heard a scream rend the air and he felt his whole body go cold. So stupid, he berated himself as he willed his body to move faster. Turning the corner a couple of blocks from where he had left her alone, he saw her… and him. The loner had cornered her against a fence in the front yard of some house, a hand around her throat and a knife pressed against her ribs. Without a second thought, Chan rushed forward with a guttural growl. The loner heard him and turned. Momentarily distracted from her, he didn’t notice when she jerked herself down, loosening his grip enough on her neck to fall in the direction opposite the knife he held on her. With his attention torn between two people now, Chan had the upper hand and wrestled him away from her.

“Run,” Chan commanded her as he tackled the loner to the ground. They rolled and grappled like gladiators, vying for dominance, both ignoring her. Something that turned out to be a mistake on the part of the loner. Just as he rolled on top, pinning Chan by gripping his injured arm, she rushed toward them, picking up the dropped knife and driving it into his back. The loner let out a rage filled scream and rolled away from them both as he changed back into his wolf form. Running away as quickly as he could manage and disappearing into the neighborhood.

“Are you okay,” Chan asked, getting up and grasping her upper arms. Her face was a mask of shock, eyes wide and not really seeing anything. “Look at me. Tell me that you are okay.”

“I have to find my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing around them, yet she didn’t pull away. “I think he tried to chase that thing away. He ran off and I need to make sure he’s okay… he was already hurt and…”

“I’m okay,” Chan said to her, giving her a little shake to get her attention. “I’m Buck. You found me in a parking lot and saved me. It’s me.” Her eyes snapped to his face and she went white. “I was following him that night, trying to figure why he was here. That’s how I got hurt, but that’s how I found you.”

“You were looking for me, too?” She shrank back, her eyes searching for something in his face.

“No, but,” Chan sighed. He needed to come clean but this wasn’t the place. Not in the open, not in someone else’s yard. “Let’s go home. Please. Can we talk there?”

“Home?” She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Your home,” he corrected. “Just, let me explain. Give me a chance.”

She looked down at the arms that were holding her, finally noticing his cut arm. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” he let go of her arms, trying to hide his injury a little.

“Let me take care of it,” she offered timidly. “Then we can talk.” Chan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. With a nod he led them both back to the house, keeping a gentle hand on her wrist as they walked. He needed the assurance that she was there, that she was safe.

She followed, letting him take the lead, slightly unsettled by how well he knew the way to her house. Part of her still didn’t believe him. But then again, she had just seen a man change into a dog or… wolf maybe, and she couldn’t explain that. She had never seen him before and yet he knew her dog, he knew where she lived, he had saved her. She wasn’t 100% sure, but something told her to trust him.

When they got to her house, she let them in and Chan pulled her inside, locking the door behind them before tucking her behind him as he scanned the room and tested the air inside the house for anything amiss. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he stepped further into the living room and headed towards the bathroom to care for his arm. He really knows where everything is, she thought as she watched him head there without hesitation. Stepping up to the sink he started running warm water, dipping his arm under the spigot to rinse it. He hissed as the water hit the wound, a tingling pain shooting outwards from it.

“Here,” she stepped up beside him, dampening her hands and lathering them so she could gently wash his wound. Chan sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I appreciate you helping me. I owe you my life twice over now.”

“Seems like both times it was because of me anyway so…” she didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on what her hands were doing.

“It’s not your fault,” Chan soothed. “We should have gotten him out of here long ago. He just… he keeps slipping away.”

“So what are you?” She asked as she patted his skin dry with a towel.

“Werewolf,” he replied softly. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and pulled some gauze and tape out of the cabinet behind her. Kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the toilet, she spread some anti-infection cream over one of the wounds before putting gauze over it and taping it down. She did the same with the other side, then wrapped both with a sports wrap to keep it secure on his arm.

“What’s your name?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Chan,” he replied gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My name is Chan.”

“That fits better than Buck,” she gave him a nervous smile and laugh.

“God I love hearing my name on your lips,” he admitted. He leaned forward hesitantly, giving her a chance to pull away, taking her lips with a gentle firmness. She tasted like heaven, even better than he had dreamed those nights when he lay beside her in bed pretending to be her pet.

What am I doing, she asked herself, feeling a fuzzy, intoxication filling her brain as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue darted out against her bottom lip, begging her to open to him. Why did he taste so good, she wondered as she shivered under his touch. He was hardly the first guy she had kissed but he felt different and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know him at all, despite the fact he seemed to have been living in her house for months.

“Love, I… I need,” Chan pulled back and stepped away from her. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry,” she leaned back, not meeting his eyes, wiping her lips to try and erase the distracting sensations.

“No, don’t apologize,” he soothed, reaching out to her. “I just need—” he broke off. “I need you to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” she asked him, frustration coursing through her.

“You’re mine,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I knew it the moment I saw you that you were supposed to be mine. I protect what’s mine. But I need you to choose me. I can wait. I can send someone else to stay here and protect you. Just… I need it to be your choice because once I have you. I’m not letting you go.”

She should have been afraid, she should have made him leave and run as far as she could as fast as she could. But something in her trusted him. No that wasn’t strong enough. Something said he was right, they were a part of each other.

“Okay,” she nodded as much as she could, still restricted by his hands on her face.

“What?” He asked, his eyes searching hers, trying to divine what she was saying.

“I understand,” Her hands came up to loosely grip his wrists, guiding his hands down from her face. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his.

“Wait,” Chan took a step back, having to use all his willpower to do so. “You’re sure?” She nodded and his will broke. It had taken so much of him to pull away, to do the right thing. He hadn’t expected her to accept him and what he was. With a desperate hunger, he smashed his lips into hers as he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He already knew the place well enough he didn’t have to take his lips from hers as he took them both to her room. He tossed her onto the bed and crawled in over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He was pure muscle as he pressed himself against her, she could feel it even through the odd mismatched clothing he was still wearing.

“Chan,” she breathed when he shifted to kiss along her cheek.

“Say it again,” he groaned, grinding himself against her. “Say my name.”

“Chan,” her hand tangled in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back, only long enough to strip off the shirt and to slip the borrowed jeans off his hips. He covered her still clothed body with his, drawing her arms around his neck. She moaned underneath him, parting her thighs to let him settle between them.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” she pointed out.

“I can fix that,” he grinned, rolling them both over. With hurried hands he pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra before sliding it off her arms and tossing it across the room. His pupils widened as he took in her bare breasts. They looked soft and inviting and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to cup them. She giggled and covered his hands with hers. Sliding backwards off him, she unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan propped himself up on his elbows and took all of her in with his gaze. Her hands lifted to cover herself and he sat up, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Don’t hide…” he blushed slightly as he admitted it, “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her down to straddle him, running his hand over her waist and thighs.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to his as his hands wandered over her body. He had thought about this moment for months. Being so near her and having her not notice him, not see him had been killing him. So close, yet so far. Every night when she changed for bed, he had done his best not to stare as she stripped and put on her pajamas, only peeking a few times. Everytime she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into his fur as she went to sleep. He had wanted to change, to confess, to throw himself on her.

Now he had her holding him as his human hands wandered over her soft curves and it was even better than he had dreamed. She smelled like heaven. Like the forest in summer and fields of wildflowers. He wanted to take her in every way possible. Kissing along the side of her neck, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing her body against his tightly. He wanted to taste her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He knew why. It wasn��t that he wanted to eat her. The bite would mark her as his to any other wolf that might cross her path. It would meld them together according to their customs and the rules of the pack. The mark would claim her as his alone and give her the protection of the pack.

Breathing deeply, he fought the urge. He needed to do this right. I’m not an animal, he reminded himself, rolling over and moving them both to the center of the bed. Her pleasure had to come first.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. “I just want you to feel me.” She looked into his eyes for a second before nodding and closing her eyes as she laid on the bed beside him. Kissing her lips, he tasted her with a slow and lazy sense of leisure, reminding them both they had all night. He licked and nibbled at her lower lip, letting out an involuntary whine as he asked her to open to him. She parted her lips and let him in, still allowing him to set the pace, to guide her. His tongue thrust into her mouth with a hungry confidence. He devoured her like a sweet dessert, enjoying her taste with a slow deliberation. As he did, one hand played lightly over her chest and collarbone. His touch was as light a feather, teasing her with the contrast of sensations.

Leaving her lips, he slid himself down her body, dragging his lips and tongue over her neck to the center of her chest. He could hear her heart beating under her delicate rib cage, fluttering like a wounded bird. The sound stirred the animal inside him. Was she afraid? Her scent tickled his nose telling him that she was mostly aroused but underneath it was a faint sliver of fear. It wasn’t a fear of him, or at least not a real fear of him. It was the type of fear that makes a rollercoaster fun or that tickles your stomach when you stand near the precipice of a mountain and take in the wonder of the view. That frisson of a potential danger that was entirely unlikely, but not impossible. Looking up her body, he saw her bite her lip in anticipation of… something, of him.

He slid between her legs and moved lower on her body. He kissed and nipped at the flesh of her belly; so soft and vulnerable. The wolf in him loved that she trusted his teeth there. His wolf could have ripped that flesh with such ease and the fact that she trusted him like this made pleasure rippled through him. Moving lower, he settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I taste you?” He asked, nuzzling against her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hands fisted around the blanket beneath her.

“Show me what you like,” he instructed, licking a line up the slit of her body. “Let me know how to please you.” She nodded, her hands fidgeting with anticipation. “Baby girl, you can look at me now.”

Opening her eyes, she looked down the line of her body to see his hungry eyes fixed on her. Chan’s hand reached up to take hers as he held her hips down with the other, keeping eye contact as he made a testing thrust of his tongue into her. She gasped and squeezed his hand. Satisfaction settled in his chest and he threw himself into pleasing her as he read her body. He licked and nipped and sucked at her until she came apart underneath him with a strangled cry. She was beautiful and he had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.

He needed to take her, to fill her with his seed until he was sure she would bare his child. An image of her, round with child, floated through his mind. Yes, the wolf inside him growled, take her. Chan slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance as he pulled her into a kiss. She could taste herself on him as he stole her breath.

“Are you ready for me, baby girl?” He asked, brushing hair off her face.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes hazy as she looked up at him. “Please, I want you in me.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” He admitted, coaxing her thighs around his hips. “Have you… done this before?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hold back. Holding her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes as he curled his hips into hers with a slow deliberation. He watched as her face filled with wonder at the feel of his invasion. When he was finally seated fully inside her, he paused, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body stretched to accommodate him. It was like she was built to hold him.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“God, yes, please,” she nodded, digging her nails into the skin and muscles of his back. Smiling down at her and keeping eye contact, he pulled himself half way out before thrusting back inside her. She sighed at the delicious friction. His body felt so good inside her, felt like it belonged, or perhaps that they were becoming a part of each other. Chan moved slowly, relishing this moment. She shivered, her hands grasping at his wide shoulders as he moved.

“Please,” she said again. “I need more.”

“Anything for you,” he soothed, placing a few kisses across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He pulled his hips back and plunged inside her, going as deeply as he could. Setting a steady rhythm, Chan buried his face in her neck as he began to let go and lose himself in the feeling. She filled every sense of his. Her smell, her feel, and the taste of her skin under his lips. Even her pants and moans filled him as they teased his ears in the quiet of the room. Her limbs held him close, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling.

Pleasure rose inside him and he knew there was only so long he would last like this. He wanted to feel her come around him, feel her body milk him as she came beneath his touch again. Her heels hooked around the back of his thighs as she arched against him. The slight change in angle let him brush the sensitive spot inside her, making her quiver and gasp.

“Harder, there,” she begged, a desperation growing inside her.

“Are you close,” he questioned, his face tucked in against her neck.

“So close,” she whimpered, her nails raking his spine.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” Chan panted. “I need to hear you cum.” She whined and moved restlessly against him as the warm pleasure pooled in her stomach. He put his lips to the thrumming pulse of her throat.

“Chan,” her voice was barely a whisper when the knot of delight finally snapped inside her. As her body gripped him, he bit the flesh where her neck and shoulders met marking her as his. The shock of pain melded with her orgasm sending a cascade of sensations through her. With a final thrust he came inside her, filling her body with his emissions. He stayed like that until he felt her move restlessly beneath him and only then, reluctantly pulled out and moved to curl up beside her on the bed.

Her hand went to the bite on her neck. It still stung slightly but not nearly as much as she thought it should. Chan splayed a hand over her stomach, rubbing it in small circles.

“Are… are you okay,” he asked, looking at her lovingly as he laid beside her.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking her hand from her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bite me.”

“Just this once,” he promised, pulling himself closer to her. “It marks you as mine, gives you the protection of my pack. You’ll carry a little of my scent now.”

“Oh,” she blushed and looked at him. “Am I supposed to feel different? I don’t feel any different.”

“No,” he chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s something only my kind would notice.” She nodded and laced her fingers with his where they laid on her stomach.

“Did you do it so that he, whoever he is, would know?” She questioned. “Was this all just to, I don’t know, put him off?”

“No, although I would be happy if it did,” He gave her an adoring look. “This was because you were meant to be mine. Meant to be the mother of my babies; to be by my side for as long as we live.”

“So you want children,” she laughed.

“I want to see you filled with my child,” he admitted, his eyes going to where his hand lay on her. “I want to see it grow inside you. I want to raise it with you, watch it grow into someone as beautiful as you are.”

“Someday,” she nodded. “But I’ve been on birth control, so I don’t think we could just yet.”

“The bond,” he explained. “When I claimed you with my mark, it sort of…” he paused, searching for the right wording. “It opens you to me.”

“Oh,” she blinked at him a few times, trying to process what he was saying. “Even if we just… this one time?”

“Maybe,” he furrowed his brow slightly. “If you don’t want, at least not yet,” sitting up, he moved to help her walk to the bathroom. “We can try to clean you out, maybe prevent it.”

“No, it’s just a lot to adjust to,” she explained. “A lot has sort of happened since this morning.”

“I know, baby girl,” he laid down again and pulled her into a spooning position against him. “Let’s go to sleep for now and figure out the rest in the morning.”

Over the next few days neither of them left the house. She called in sick to work, not wanting to put either of them in danger by going out to a place he could so easily find and potentially corner her. Even with Changbin there, with so many people and such a big space, it would be possible to miss him, or at the very least, to not notice him until it was too late. Instead his pack mates came over to plan their next move. Chan spent most of his time planning with Minho and Changbin, setting patrol schedules and scout missions for everyone. Hyunjin was assigned the duty to investigate at the hotel and talk to the woman who had been mauled. Maybe it wasn’t a random coincidence that he had picked her, Felix had suggested after their second meeting. After all, if he was just looking to hurt people and just stir up trouble here, why target her? Sure it could have been a coincidence if he had just been foiled and chosen another target, but he hadn’t.

The suggestion had made Chan go cold. It made sense, but what had made him target her? There wasn’t something particularly special about her, except that she was his mate, but even he hadn’t known that yet. Was it possible the loner had some way of knowing even before Chan did? As far as they knew, it wasn’t possible to know but, still the thought lingered.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Chan’s phone rang. Hyunjin was calling him from the hospital where he had gone to talk to the other victim.

“Chan?” There was a slight edge of panic to Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke.

“What’s the matter?” Chan asked the other boy, worried immediately by his tone.

“She’s… she’s my mate,” Hyunjin whispered into the phone.

“What?” Chan had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He stood up, needing to see his mate, to touch her and know that she was there and fine. He found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, snacking on something as she read.

“I’ve never met her before,” Hyunjin started to explain. “But I felt it the moment I walked into her room. She was just lying there, still sleeping, so hurt, and it just hit me. Her scent and just her presence; I know she’s mine.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, pulling his own mate against him as he spoke.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be a coincidence,” Hyunjin insisted.

“I know,” Chan agreed.

“Look,” Hyunjin sighed. “I can’t leave her alone here. I have to stay for now.” Chan understood, letting him stay with the promise to send someone else to keep watch over her tomorrow so he could get some rest and come back to discuss what to do next.

“I hate this,” Chan said, as he sat at the cafe a block away from the craft store.

“We can hear everything that is happening,” Jisung assured him. “She’ll be fine, but we need him to come out.”

“I know,” He shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They spent the afternoon waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Over an open line, Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin listened as she went about her day like everything was fine and normal. She helped customers, stocked shelves, and worked at the register, all while Chan was on the edge of his chair, waiting for something to happen. But, it seemed, it was all for nothing. The sun set and the store closed and seemingly all was well. She locked the front door and set about closing everything down by herself.

Chan relaxed a little, hearing her calm humming as she closed down the register and counted out the money in the back of the store. After the money was counted and locked in the safe, she just had to make one last pass through of the store to make sure no one had left something behind or left a mess and then she could head home. Over the radio, Changbin and Jeongin started joking around, getting playful after a tense day. Everyone was relaxing, at least until a loud crack broke over the mic followed by her surprised squeal. The jokes stopped and everyone froze.

“I know you all are out there,” the loner’s self-satisfied voice cut through the silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t make her suffer, but sadly, you will.”

Before the words were even finished coming out of the loner’s mouth, Chan was up, running as fast as he could to the store. He had to get in, he had to protect her. Jisung was on his heels as they ran across the street and into the strip mall parking lot.

“Why?” She asked, her voice slightly strained.

“Why should he have you when my mate was stolen from me?” He growled.

“What did they have to do with that?” She asked, keeping him busy for as long as possible. If he was explaining things, he wasn’t killing her.

“Nothing,” he admitted, dragging her towards the back door. “But neither did anyone in the last three territories I went through. This one was the first one that figured out it was me though.”

“What the hell is the matter with you,” she spat. “You think you can take something from others just because it happened to you?”

“Why should I be the only one who has to be alone?” He demanded, pushing her against the wall by her neck.

“The only one,” she scoffed, realizing this was probably not the ideal way to handle this, but she couldn’t help it. “You know most people don’t have some beacon to tell them who they are supposed to be with. Even those who do, people lose the people they love all the time. Car accidents, illness, crime, no one needs your help suffering, you selfish, shitty person.”

“What do you know,” he hissed back.

“I know that your mate was lucky not to have had to spend a lifetime with someone who would do this,” she challenged. “No one deserves that.”

Shock and rage vied for dominance in his expression as he stared at her. He made a sound of pure rage and pulled back a hand to strike her. Never having been the sort to just lay down and give up, she kicked out catching the side of his knee. It didn’t really hurt him, but it was enough to unbalance him and make him catch himself, giving her the chance to break out of his grip. She knew she wouldn’t get far, he was faster and stronger, so she just tried to get as close as she could to where Chan and the others were. They would come, she had faith.

The loner came up, grabbing her from behind. “I’m glad, even if this is the last thing I do, I’m not just denying him his mate, but I’ll take his child, too.”

On the other side of the glass door, Chan felt half a second of numbing terror. He had to get inside, for both of them. Changbin picked up a part of a broken concrete curb stop and smashed it against the window, cracking the safety glass into a million little pieces, still stuck together by the coating, but weakened. He hit it again, opening a hole the size of a fist, and again, until the tear in the inner plastic layer got bigger. Impatiently, and perhaps a little recklessly, Chan covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and tore at the shattered glass. Finally the hole was big enough and he crawled through onto the display on the other side of the glass. He had to find her.

Their scuffling was audible and he found them quickly, rolling on the floor a few aisles into the store. She had curled into a ball, only moving to thwart his attempts to move her or drag her further to the back of the store. They all leapt on him, pulling him off her and dragging him away before they made sure he could never hurt another person. Chan stayed with her, trying to get her off the floor where she lay. He needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, make sure the loner hadn’t done anything to her that needed an ambulance.

She peeked out from under her arm, checking who it was before throwing herself into his arms. Relief coursed through her like she had never felt before. She breathed his name and threw her hands around his neck. Pulling her to his chest, he held her close for a moment before pulling her back to get a better look at her. Bruises were blooming on her neck and wrists, but that seemed to be the most serious injuries inflicted upon her.

“Baby girl,” he looked into her eyes, trying to find the words to express how sorry he was he hadn’t been there.

“I knew you would come,” she assured him.

“I will always come for you,” he promised, his hand dropping to her stomach. “For both of you. I will always protect my loves with everything I have.” Over the past few days he had been so preoccupied with their hunt and their planning that he hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her scent.

“How do you know,” she shook her head. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing much, just a little change in your scent… hormones and all that,” He smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really something a person could sense themselves. “Are you happy? I know this has been… too much.”

“I am,” she nodded. “I may not have chosen this way to meet you and fall into your world, but I don’t think I can imagine ending up anywhere else.”

“You’re mine,” he assured her. “And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do just to see you smile.”

Masterlist

#bang chan #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #werewolf AU #chan #stray kids #kpop imagines #kpop smut #chan smut #bang chan smut

107 notes · View notes

mulletcal · 5 years ago

Text

when did you first know? -- a calum hood one shot

a/n: okay so i was hit with inspo for this like 8 hours ago and here we are. it’s the origin story for cal & mama from my twin universe, but you don’t need to have read those to know what’s going on here!! pls enjoy

words: 3.9k

warnings: cavity inducing fluff mb???

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

Soulmate was always a word that Calum heard, and while he believed that they existed, he was never certain that a soulmate would be something he’d find in his lifetime. He saw his friends pair off with their respective partners, and it warmed his heart to see the people he loved so happy. Calum grew content with the fact that he was meant for platonic soulmates, already having found those in his best friends.

The fans never let the idea go that Calum was preparing for his soulmate though - citing his quitting smoking, and in general cleaning up his act as the source. That was never consciously what Calum was doing though, rather just choosing to better himself for himself.

It was a Tuesday when he first met her - the sky was clear and the moon full, the air was warm, and he was surrounded by his best friends as they shared stories from their past. Why Michael had decided to have a party on a Tuesday, he’d never know; but he knew that he would one day need to thank the man.

Andy had brought her along, saying how she was an old friend from his hometown who just moved to L.A. and had zero friends there other than him. Maybe it would be Andy he’d need to thank - in all the years he’d been alive, he had never met someone so beautiful. The night carried on in similar fashion to previous nights, most of them crashing in various rooms in Michael’s house rather than heading home. She went home, though, without Calum being able to say goodbye, or get her number - she was gone.

For days thoughts of her clouded his mind; the sound of her voice, her laugh, how she danced with his friends as if she’d known them for years. It tugged at his heart how well she fit in with them, and he wished he knew her well enough to invite her along to things they had plans for.

In a vague attempt to rid his mind of her, he thought he’d distract himself with the one thing that always seemed to cheer him up - dogs. Duke enjoyed wandering the dog park, even if he didn’t interact much with other dogs, Calum was always there to toss a ball or two for his old baby.

Pressing a kiss to the side of Duke’s head, he set him down onto the grass and took his leash in his hand, at least till they got away from the busy parking lot. Letting him begin to sniff around, Calum’s eyes scanned around the park - it wasn’t a particular busy day for a Friday, they may be able to have a wider range for Duke to roam.

He froze, though, when he saw an oddly familiar face underneath a nearby tree - it was her. This had to be some form of serendipity, right? There was no way she knew he would be there, at that time, on that day, so maybe this was his chance.

Calum’s feet took over before he got much of a chance to overthink it, stopping when he and Duke reached a few feet away, “Hey, didn’t expect to see you here!” Oof, lame line. He could’ve done better than that, truly.

She looked up, lifting the sunglasses off of her head as she met his eyes, a bright smile spreading across her lips, “Calum, hey! How are yo- Is this your dog?” Her eyes were wide as she looked at Duke, whose head was cocked to the side as his dad interacted with this woman he never met.

“It is, his name’s Duke. He’s wary of people, so maybe just approach with caution. It’s not his fault, he’s old and grumpy. I feel as though he should be back at home readin’ the dailies.” Calum was rambling, and he knew it - but his comment made her laugh, so it counted as a win to him.

“Me too man, you have no idea,” She shook her head as she spoke to Duke, as if he could understand her. She held out her hand and Calum waited with baited breath while his dog gave it a sniff, usually Duke would huff and walk away from the offending person - but after what felt like an eternity, Duke’s tail began to wag as he looked at her expectantly.

“That absolutely never happens,” Calum stated, stunned; and the responding smile that he got was brighter than the sun that was high in the sky that day. “D’you wanna come toss a ball for ‘im? He seems to like you,” While Calum had been deep in his own thoughts, Duke had taken to putting his front paws on her legs so she could have better access to behind his ears.

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on a quiet day at the dog park.”

“It seems as though if anything, we’re intruding on you,” Calum motioned to the tablet and pen beside her and she responded with a wave of her hand, standing up to dust off her pants.

“Thinkin’ bout it now, I was very likely sitting in dog pee, wasn’t I?” She pouted, continuing to brush off the back of her pants. Gathering her things, she slid them into her bag before turning to the pair, “We ready boys?”

The rest of Calum’s afternoon was spent exchanging stories of their pasts, and how they came to be where they were today. He found out that she was a graphic designer, working on animation as well, and she moved to L.A. because she was offered an amazing job she couldn’t turn down. The more he learned about her, the more infatuated he became; and when his phone went off to remind him of a time slot they had at the studio.

If Calum didn’t act now, he knew he’d miss his chance - he could sense it deep down that the universe had given him the perfect opportunity and he couldn’t waste it.

“Hey, d’you have plans for tomorrow night?” Tomorrow night? What an incredible way to sound desperate.

“I don’t actually, I was supposed to go for coffee with Andy but something came up!” She grinned, adjusting the bag on her shoulder, “Why what’s up?”

“Would you want to go out tomorrow? On a date, maybe?” Calum swallowed thickly, running his fingers through his hair, avoiding any and all eye contact with her.

“I’d love to, actually.”

Calum’s heart soared, breaking into a toothy grin that brought out the crinkles by his eyes. She said yes, and it wasn’t just him imagining things. He tried to prevent his hands from shaking while they exchanged phones and phone numbers, the promise of the next day hanging from their lips when they departed.

***

Calum had been pacing through his house for the last hour, the anticipation leading him to sweat through the first shirt he had picked for the night. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous for something, even crowds of people watching them perform.

He could be vulnerable, he could be himself, but what if she rejected him? What if he opened a door as an insight to himself, and once he did he couldn’t close it again?

The drive to her apartment was shorter than he would have liked. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t have been left alone with his thoughts for too much longer or he may have backed out.

Calum wanted to be a gentleman, but the whole process of buzzing up to her apartment and her waiting at her door to be picked up seemed a little awkward - so instead he waited by the passenger side door of his car, a small bouquet of wildflowers in hand. He almost started to pace again while he waited, but then his eyes landed on her.

Her silk, navy blue dress swayed as she walked towards him, tucking her keys and phone into her purse but her eyes never left Calum’s. He couldn’t help to notice that the dress hugged her upper half in all the best ways, flaring out to stop just above her knees.

“Hi,” She breathed, standing up on her tippy toes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

A spark radiated from Calum’s cheek, causing goosebumps to raise on his skin, “You look absolutely stunning,” he spoke softly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you.”

The expression on her face softened ever so slightly when she saw the flowers, a smile present on her lips while she thanked him with another kiss to his cheek. Calum opened the car door for her, assuring she was in before rounding to the other side.

Conversation flowed easily between the two, and Calum’s cheeks were beginning to ache from the amount he was smiling- he genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he ached because he was so happy. It continued well through dinner, her even offering up a forkful to him of her meal.

Once dinner was finished, Calum paid and escorted her again out to his car, grabbing the door even though she insisted she was fine before they headed to the second part of their date. This part was met with confusion from her, a teasing smile quirking at her lips.

“Ah, I see. The infamous Calum Hood shows a gal a good time, and then takes her out to the beach late at night to kill her, is it?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

It wasn’t an entirely unfair assumption - the only light illuminating the road ahead was his own headlights, and those of the occasional car that would pass by. She had guessed right about the beach, though, and Calum faked an incredulous gasp.

“How could you think I’m a murderer? I know we’ve been driving down a dark road for half an hour, but that’s irrelevant to the matter.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve sent Andy my location, in case you do choose to kill me. At the very least he could come locate my body.” She was biting her tongue to keep from laughing, but ultimately failed and she squeezed Calum’s hand in an attempt to let him know she was kidding - but also possibly a poorly veiled attempt at wanting to hold his hand.

Thankfully, Calum took the hint and laced their fingers together, bringing their joined hands up to his lips, grazing against the back of hers. He heard her breath stop, and he quickly glanced at her with a hint of a smile.

The rest of the drive was silent, only the faint sound of Louis Armstrong playing in the background. The lights of their destination came into view, and Calum chewed on his lower lip while he tried to gauge her reaction. It would be impossible to tell what it was just from a glance, but the smile that came across her face was enough for Calum.

While the sound of Louis Armstrong was now gone, the sounds of a vibrant jazz band filled her ears, and her smile went from soft to ear to ear within seconds.

“What is this, Cal?” She asked softly, reaching for his hand when he had met her at the front of the car.

The first thought at the forefront of his mind was how he could get used to the feeling of her hand in his, but the next thought he had was that he should probably answer her question. “Well…” He began, tugging her hand gently so she could follow, “There’s this jazz band I’ve come across that plays here once a month and I love to come and watch them. They’ve even let me play for them a handful of times.”

Her eyes scanned the people, wide with wonder as she did so. She saw couples of all ages milling about, and much to her delight some were dancing. You often heard about things like this, but she never could have dreamed that this beautiful man standing beside her would have taken her here.

“Wanna dance, doll?” Calum asked, looking down at her expectantly, giggling softly at how quickly her gaze snapped up to him.

He didn’t need to say anymore to her before he was dragged out to the ‘dance floor’, proceeding to sway and spin to the music.

After a few songs, they decided to take a break, sitting down at a table beside this elderly couple Calum appeared to know, excusing himself to go get you both a drink.

“You don’t see that often, do ya Ruby?” The man spoke up, clearly trying to the attention of his wife, as well as the young lady that sat beside them.

“What’s that darlin’?” The woman, Ruby, said to the man, leaning her chin onto her hand.

“Calum seems to have brought a special lady with him tonight. Don’t think he’s ever done that before.”

Now he had her attention, turning her head to look at Ruby and her husband, chewing on her lip before she asked, “He hasn’t?”

The couple shook their head practically in unison, knowing smiles on their lips, “He must really care about you.”

It took her off guard when Calum came back, setting down waters for them. Sipping it absentmindedly while their words echoed through her head. If Calum truly had never brought anyone there before her, this place must have been special to him; and what lead him to want to bring her there? Her chest was warm with the implication that she, too, could be special to Calum in the same way this place was.

Not much longer later, they made their decision to leave.�� She had been making her rounds, getting to know the regulars of the area, and them doing the same for her. It didn’t take her very long to be invited back by the regulars, all of them kissing her and Calum’s cheeks before they finally departed.

Arriving back at her apartment, there was a sense of hesitation in the air, neither of them wanting their night to end. It needed to though, if only to let the night continue on and they could venture into the future together.

“Walk me to my door?” She asked, glancing over at him with a hopeful expression in her eyes.

“It would be my pleasure,” He answered honestly, hopping out of the drivers side, quickly making his way to her side to offer his hand to her.

The nerves from earlier returned while they made the short trek upstairs to her apartment. Calum knew before he reached the door that he wanted to kiss her, but the thought of it being the typical awkward first date kiss hurt his chest while it constricted in panic.

He could tell she was nervous too when he saw her fumble with her keys, and it made him breathe a little easier. When they stopped in front of her door, she spun around to face him, stumbling back despite the lack of alcohol either of them drank that night.

“I had an amazing time,” She began, licking her lips when she finally met his eyes. “I’d love to do it again sometime, if you’d like.”

“Trust me, I’d like nothing more.” Oh, so he was back to desperate, that’s good.

“Good, good…” Her words died in her throat when Calum stepped closer to her, bringing his hand up to brush against her cheek. Their eyes seemed to take turns glancing from their lips, back to each others eyes - a wordless request for a kiss. It was just a matter of who would move first.

Calum couldn’t wait any longer, the anticipation enough to kill him, so he closed the gap, capturing her lips in the most breathtaking kiss she had ever received. His lips were so gentle and soft against hers, and she couldn’t help but to tangled her fingers in the front of his shirt, desperate to have him closer.

A long moment later, they pulled apart, both slightly gasping for air and sharing breathless giggles.

“Alright, so I’ll talk to you later then?” Calum teased, his fingers still dancing along her waist, enjoying the feeling of the soft silk under his touch.

“You’d fucking better honestly.”

With that half threat, they shared one more kiss before she slipped inside, pressing her back against the door with her hand against her head. The whole night had been a whirlwind, and it was difficult to believe that it was her real life - every series of events felt movie like, and it was the last thing she expected when she moved to the City of Angels.

Calum had begun the walk back to his car, waiting until he was fully inside before he rested his head against the steering wheel and laughing softly to himself. He had never felt such a strong connection to anyone before, his heart was racing at the fact that maybe he had just met his soulmate.

Taking his phone out of his pocket for the first time that night, he noticed the group chat was blowing up with questions of his date, shaking his head before he sent a simple reply:

[9:54pm]: She’s perfect. I’m gonna marry her.

Once that was sent, he silenced his phone again and headed home, proceeding to write the same words down in his journal with a date, almost as a manifestation of his future.

***

Their relationship only blossomed from there - In ways they were completely inseparable, but both knew the times when to step back, letting one another have alone time, or time with their friends.

It made the boys so happy to see their best friend completely and totally in love, excited that he had met someone who matched him on different levels. It was rare to see them argue, and when they did, it was resolved almost as quickly as an issue came up - it was almost then that everyone realized that the two really were meant to be together, knowing how much Calum despised conflict.

At the year and a half mark, Calum began to plan his proposal. Their friends demanded to be in on it, but being in on it revealed the only thing he ever kept from his friends - the one thing that was just for them.

In the end, it was worth showing them if it meant she said yes to him, and the promise of their future together was more set in stone.

When the day of the proposal finally arrived, Calum was a nervous wreck all day - he had to call Andy to help get her out of the house so he could panic in private. Ashton showed up at one point in the day so someone could force him into the shower, so he’d be ready for the night.

Calum lost count of how many times he was told to relax by his friends via text, after his shower Ashton was long since gone, not wanting to be there when she got home in an attempt to not give away the surprise - as if him being there was anything out of the ordinary.

When she arrived back home, she got ready for their typical once a month Saturday night date, still seemingly unaware about what was in store for the night. It put Calum at ease a little, to see her go through her routine of getting ready without the knowledge that he was going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.

“Ready baby?” She asked softly, smoothing out her skirt, cocking her head to the side while she waited for an answer.

“Yeah, love, let’s go,” Calum smiled, lacing his fingers with hers as they headed out to their destination.

The familiar lights were a welcome sight to Calum, further easing his nerves for the night. It helped knowing that everyone that was there loved them, and only wanting what was best for them. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, she shivered slightly and curled into him.

“We gonna dance, angel?” Calum whispered, his lips lingering near her ear, leading her to the dance floor regardless. His eyes scanned the room, not giving her much time to look around before he pulled her close to him.

Over her head, he saw Luke getting into position behind the mic, smiling at Calum. ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’ by Louis Armstrong began to play, Calum continuing to move her to the music with him until Luke began singing.

‘Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"

Birds singing in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me…’

The moment she recognized the familiar voice, she spun around, a bright smile on her face. She started to suspect something was up, especially considering that at any given chance, Calum would never be able to turn down playing with his best friends. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, swaying from side to side as she watched the boys play the song.

As it came to an end, Calum felt her take a deep breath before turning to face him, suspecting what was about to happen.

Calum took his arms from around her, rubbing his hands on his pants to wipe the sweat that was forming, taking the small box from his pocket. “I know you can kind of guess what I’m about to say, you’re too smart for your own good - but at least I managed to keep this a surprise this far. Anyways… Before I met you, I wasn’t quite sure that a soulmate existed out there for me. I watched my friends pair off and meet their amazing significant others, leaving just me usually. But then you came, and my world turned upside down. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but I knew I had to be near you. You simultaneously stole the air from my lungs, but breathed a new life into me I didn’t know I was capable of. I’ve become a better man because of you, and for you. So, I need to ask…” He finally got down on one knee, opening the ring box with tears in his eyes, “Will you marry me?”

She couldn’t contain the tears streaming down her cheeks any longer, nodding fervently as she dipped down to his level to kiss him, nearly knocking him over, “A million times yes. In every universe, in every lifetime, yes.”

She hadn’t realized that all their close friends and family were there, and it caused more tears to flow when she saw them. Never in her life had she felt more loved, and it was all thanks to the beautiful boy who brought her to a jazz bar on the beach.

Despite having a lot of friends and family, they kept their wedding small. They wanted it to be intimate and sweet, and everything about it spoke to who they were as people, and it represented their relationship perfectly. Growing up, she never had brothers, but as she swayed with Michael to the song playing, she couldn’t resist the urge to rest her head on his shoulder and tell him how they’re all the brothers she’s always wanted.

Later in the night, the newly wedded couple decided to exchange gifts. Hers was a set of shadow boxes, with pressed and dried flowers from their first date that she had kept for the now almost three years. His gift to her was a simple frame, but in it was the paper he wrote after their first date.

“Baby, this isn’t the day of our first date.”

“You’re absolutely right, my love, it’s the day I realized I wanted to marry you.”

tag list: @cals-wildflower @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @roseycal @calum-uncrowned @boyfriend-cal @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @atlcalm @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @wokeupinjapanisabop

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #this is pure fluff

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

Text

The Second Year

So begins the second year of being parents. They have had a wonderful first year getting to know their little girl and each other once again. A year of tears and happiness, and now it’s time to see what will be in store for them. I hope you enjoy these stories of love and family life. ❤💕

A Remarkable Christmas 1a/8

Chapter One

Christmas Trees and Declarations of Love

It’s Christmas time in the Unremarkable House. Time for decorations, memories, friends, happiness and celebrating the holiday.

December 2019

Scully closed the gate, stopping Bella from running off the porch and out into the night, as Mulder set the last bin down, sighing deeply as he did.

“That’s the last of them,” he said, scooping Bella up and holding her to his chest, kissing her head before setting her back down.

“Did they multiply out in the shed? Why don’t I remember having this many last Christmas?” she asked, frowning as she touched the lid of the top bin.

“No, this is how many we had. Six, nearly full to the top.”

“I don’t remember so many.”

“Well, that may be because you didn’t carry each one out to the shed last year,” he quipped and she looked at him.

“Oh that’s right, because I had pushed a baby out of my va…”

“Hup,” he interrupted her, putting up his hand and pointing a finger at her face, giving her a look. “That’s enough of that then, Miss.” She laughed and he shook his head, taking off the lid of the bin.

“Oof,” she said, leaning up to look inside. “That’s… a lot. Most of this stuff goes inside, but I don’t think we need all of it in the house.” She stopped speaking at his scoff and looked at him.

“Her first Christmas, well the first one she won’t mostly sleep through, and you want to skimp on the decorations? For shame, Scully,” he tut tutted at her, shaking his head.

“Mulder, six bins.”

“Scully, first Christmas.”

They stared at each other and she smiled, reaching for a bin and lugging it to the door. He muttered a yes under his breath and she laughed, stepping inside the house, Bella following behind, rising on her hind legs to look inside the bin when it was opened.

“No, Bella!” she laughed, as she grabbed at the golden garland Bella had taken into her teeth, attempting to run away. A game of tug of war ensued, the garland missing some bits as a result. “I know it’s new and exciting, but we don’t eat decorations.” Bella barked and Mulder tossed a ball across the room and she chased after that instead.

They unpacked the bins, exclaiming over the decorations they acquired last year and the ones from years previous. She smiled at the small items that brought such joyous memories. The dishes, ornaments, and candles; it all held happiness within, even if some were bittersweet.

Working together, they cleared spaces and placed the usual home decor into the bin, taking the place of the Christmas items. By the time they had finished, stopping occasionally as he twirled her about the room, singing along to the holiday music that was playing, the house resembled the winter wonderland from last year.

“We just need the tree,” he said, setting the stand on the floor and looking around. She smiled at him, watching his face as he took in all the beauty. He loved Halloween, she knew that, but truly he was just a kid at heart, and it showed up most during the holidays.

He caught her staring and he walked close to her, his eyes asking questions. She put her hands on his chest and he placed his hands over them, smiling happily at her. She laughed softly and he shrugged, their conversation silent, though each of them heard it.

“Let’s put these bins away and have a cup of tea before we head to bed. We can get the tree tomorrow, yeah?” she asked and he nodded. Closing the lids, they carried out the bins, leaving Bella inside the house.

She shivered as they closed the door and then she gasped. “Bella!” she cried and ran over to her dog bed, taking away the decoration she was chewing on. “Oh, Bella.” She sighed, knowing she did not understand what she had done or why it was wrong.

“What did she do? Oh, Scully, I know you liked that one.” He took the wooden nutcracker from her hands, large bite marks now covering his face and head. “Maybe they have another one at the tree farm.”

“It’s okay, but we could ask tomorrow." She sighed, taking the nutcracker back, as Bella came and sat at her feet. “I know, you don’t understand, but you’ve got a box full of toys, girl, let’s stay away from the decorations, okay?” She knelt down and patted her head, rubbing her ears, and Bella licked her face. “I know, you’re sorry. It was too much of a temptation.” Mulder laughed beside her and she looked up at him with a smile.

They sat on the couch with their cups of tea, candles glowing in lieu of any lights, reminiscing over last year. She set her cup on the coffee table, and laughed as she remembered his struggle with the tree and he huffed, but then laughed a rather evil chuckle.

“What’s that laugh?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Oh, it’s just quite ironic that you’re laughing at my struggles, when this year you’ll get to help. We’re in this together now, baby,” he said and she laughed.

“Should go smoother than, especially if I’m helping,” she teased.

“Ha. With your height?” he teased back and she gasped in mock shock. He laughed and she pounced on him, his words of warning about his cup of tea, falling on deaf ears. Bella barked and ran over to see what all the excitement was about.

She jumped on the couch and wedged herself between them, whining and wiggling as she licked at them excitedly. They both laughed, struggling to stop her, as they disentangled from one another and she moved from atop his lap, Bella still licking at him.

“I’m liking your thinking, Scully, but let’s move this to a more… private location,” he said, as he handed her his cup and lifted Bella off of the couch, grabbing her leash to take her out one last time.

Scully put their cups in the sink and blew out the candles. She smiled as she imagined the wide eyed look of wonder Faith would have when she came downstairs tomorrow. She picked up the snow globe and turned the winder on the bottom, hearing Greensleeves playing as the snow fell on the house and the small woodland animals inside.

Yes, she thought looking around again with a smile, she was going to love it.

_____________

The time it took to put the decorations up was worth it as they watched Faith look around the room, her head swiveling back and forth, trying to stare at everything all at once. They let her toddle around, not guiding her or trying to draw her attention, simply letting her look her fill.

Bella walked beside her, gentle as always when it came to Faith, which was still incredibly spooky every time it happened. Mulder tapped Scully’s hip and nodded with his chin toward Faith. She had walked over to the snow globe and stared at it closely.

“Ha,” she said, touching the glass and looking closer. “Ha.” She looked up at them and smiled, before looking at the snow globe again.

Scully knelt beside her and smiled as she gently moved Faith’s hands. “It looks like a horse, you’re right, my love. But it’s a fawn, a baby deer.” She picked up the snow globe and turned it over, winding it to play the music, and set it back down. “See how the snow falls? It’s falling on the little house and the animals. You don’t understand, but that group of animals symbolizes our little family. The fawn is you, daddy is the fox, mama is the bunny, and Jackson is the bear. He’s hibernating right now and that’s why we don’t see him much, but we might one day. Until then…” She turned the globe over again, letting the snow fall as she looked at Faith, who touched it gently and stared inside. When the snow had stopped, she looked up at Scully and smiled, making the more sign with her hands.

Scully turned it over a few more times and Faith stood in front of it, mesmerized as much the fifth time as the first. Smiling once again, she moved on, looking at the snowmen, santas, the gingerbread house which Scully allowed her to touch and then hold the little boy and girl who stood outside the house. She wandered around, holding them tight as she looked at the angels in white flowing robes, blowing golden trumpets. Turning around, she smiled at them again and they smiled back.

Mulder lifted her up, causing her to squeal with excitement, and brought her to her chair at the kitchen table. She set the gingerbread children down and stared at them as Scully and Mulder worked together to make breakfast, Christmas music playing from her phone on the counter. He kissed the back of her neck as he passed by to grab a plate, pinching her butt as he did.

“See? Six bins,” he said triumphantly.

“Yes, you’re right once again.”

“Oh… I never tire of hearing those words,” he said with a happy sigh. She laughed as she dished up the food and he kissed her softly. “Never tire of it.” Giggling, she sat down to join them, before they went to find their Christmas tree.

__________________

“So, we’ll stop in the house and drop this off and then head out to find the tree,” Scully said and Mulder nodded, sliding on the backpack and then setting Bella down, as she put Faith in the carrier and grabbed a plastic bag from the backseat.

Doors closed, car locked, they walked toward the little gingerbread house inside the Christmas tree farm. Breathing deeply, she smiled as she looked around. Memories of last year hung about like ghosts, coming to meet her as though waiting to say hello; tired but happy with a newborn, relief that everything was healing as it should, being home with the man she loved, Christmas being planned in their little house.

She glanced at Mulder, the leash held loose in his hand as he let Bella explore, her excitement evident in the wiggling of her little body. Reaching for his hand, he turned his head to look at her, happiness in his own eyes.

“Do you feel them too? The memories?” she asked, surprising herself at what she was admitting.

“As if they’ve been held within the trees?” he asked, nodding with a smile.

“It’s weird,” she whispered.

“Spooky. It’s spooky or it’s nothing,” he corrected her, squeezing her hand, and she laughed.

They walked to the house and at the door, he picked Bella up, shrugging as Scully looked at him. “Not sure their policy on dogs and I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

“You? Trouble? Isn’t that one of your middle names?” she teased, as he wrapped the leash around his arm.

“Government facilities, places with no trespassing signs: yes. Little old women who look like Mrs. Claus: no. Can you imagine how long I’d be on the naughty list?” He shuddered as he opened the door and she laughed, squeezing Faith’s legs gently and kissing her head.

It was warm in the little house and smelled as she remembered; of chocolate, spices, cookies, and Christmas. Everything was the same; the large sled for photos, the pot bellied stove, and the extraordinary amount of decorations filling tabletops and shelves, with Christmas music playing softly in the background. Yes, it was the same and it made her smile.

A door opened and Betty walked out, carrying a wreath with a red ribbon woven into it, pine cones, and red holly berries. She glanced up and smiled at them, then looked again, her face breaking into a huge grin.

“Hello!” she exclaimed, setting the wreath on the counter beside the register. “Oh my goodness, look at you all! Look at that girl!” She walked over and stood in front of them, her eyes shining with happiness. “I can’t believe how much she’s grown, but of course she has, it’s been a whole year already.” She smiled at Faith who stared at her and then smiled back, before she looked up at the decorations all around her.

Betty laughed and turned her attention to them. “I am so pleased to see you again, I was hoping you would be back this year. How are you? Oh my goodness, look at that, you also have a puppy! You are very brave indeed.” They all laughed and Mulder nodded in agreement.

“If you can believe it, was her idea, not mine,” he said with a smile and a nod toward Scully.

“Of course it was, we mothers are a special breed. We do crazy things at times, like agreeing to open a Christmas tree farm with three children underfoot,” Betty said, with a wink at Scully. “A puppy is tiny in comparison.” She reached out and held Bella’s head in her hands. She wiggled and tried to lick at her hands as she pet her ears.

“Howard will be happy to see you both. He was just talking about you two, you especially, Fox. He said he wanted to continue your conversation about, I believe it was, moth men?”

“Mulder, no,” Scully said, looking at him with a groan. He opened his mouth to say something, but knowing he had been caught out, he sighed and nodded. Scully sighed in exasperation as Betty laughed.

“He truly enjoyed it, so apparently it was a good conversation,” she said, patting his arm and stepping back.

“See? He enjoyed it,” he said, looking at Scully, and she rolled her eyes with a smile, before looking back at Betty.

“Betty, last night we were putting up all the wonderful items we bought last year. Well, I say bought, but…” Scully said as she looked at Betty, who smiled as she touched Faith’s arm before winking quickly at Scully. “Thank you so much for each of them, they are all so beautiful. The snow globe especially, as they are important in our home and that one in particular… it’s very special.”

“It was calling to me, like I said. It was meant to belong to you,” Betty said with a smile.

Scully nodded, smiling back as she opened the plastic bag and took out the nutcracker, holding it out for Betty to see. “This was another favorite, and somehow little miss puppy got a hold of it. I was hoping you might have one similar to it.”

“Well, my goodness. Puppy teeth can be quite sharp and at times dangerous, can’t they?” she asked with a laugh as she took the nutcracker from Scully and ran her fingers across the teeth marks Bella had made. “She obviously liked this one nearly as much as you. Yes, I think I might have a similar one, let me have a look around.” She smiled and took the bag from Scully, placing the nutcracker back inside. “Howard was just helping another customer load their tree, I’m sure he will be back soon. Why don’t you head out and he’ll meet up with you out there among the trees?”

Scully smiled and rubbed her hand on Betty’s arm. Looking at Mulder, he nodded and they began to walk towards the door, when it opened and two people walked in, stopping short as they looked up.

“Fox?”

“Rachel?”

“Dana?”

“Skinner?”

“Rachel!!”

Everyone froze, looking at one another. Scully looking at Betty, wondering how in the world she knew Rachel. Faith clapped her hands, reaching for her Uncle Walter, as they continued to look at one another. Then from behind them, a great booming voice sounded and it broke the silence.

“Rachel!” Howard shouted and quickly walked towards her, engulfing her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground. “Oh, my girl! It’s wonderful to see you!” She gave a strained laugh and he set her down, kissing her loudly on the cheek.

“Hey, Uncle Howard. I’d ask how you are, but you’re obviously still strong as an ox,” Rachel said, rubbing her ribs and moaning.

“Ha!” he laughed, clapping his hands loudly, pulling her in for another hug as Betty walked over, smiling and waiting for her own hug.

Scully, Mulder and Skinner stared at one another, not sure what to do or say, when suddenly Bella barked and Faith screamed, her arms still out, trying to get to Skinner.

“Come on, hand her over,” Skinner said gruffly, stepping closer to Scully, causing Faith to laugh and bounce up and down. “I know, honey, you just need to wait for your mama to release you from that strange contraption.” Scully grinned as she opened the carrier and handed Faith to him. “Ah see, isn’t that better? Now you’re free.” She put her hands in her mouth with a smile as they all turned to look at Howard, Betty, and Rachel, who looked back at them and laughed.

“If you could see your faces,” Rachel said, shaking her head, a hand covering her laughing mouth.

“So, you all know each other somehow?” Howard asked, a large smile on his face.

“Uh, something like that,” Mulder laughed.

“Uncle, Auntie, you obviously already know Fox and Dana, and little Faith there,” Rachel said with a smile, looking at Faith in Skinner’s arms. “Howard and Betty are my uncle and aunt, well, not blood, but family just the same.” She smiled again as Howard put his arm around her with a chuckle. “And this… this is Walter.” Skinner stepped closer, his hand out to shake Howard’s.

“Oh, Walter, hello,” Howard said and grasped his hand in what Scully saw was a hearty handshake. Betty stepped forward and shook his hand too, though a much softer version of Howard’s.

Scully watched them, a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. She cut her eyes to Mulder’s as she felt his hand tapping her back. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded slightly, knowing this was a big moment and she felt giddy with happiness for Skinner.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Rachel’s told me a lot about you,” Skinner said, switching Faith to his other arm, and Mulder stepped forward to take her, but stopped when Skinner shook his head. “I just got her and I haven’t even said a proper hello.” Everyone laughed and Scully saw Betty nod as she looked Skinner up and down, apparently approving of him instantly.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you too, Walter, and to see you all again,” Howard said, smiling at Scully and Mulder. “Would you mind if I held this little one? You can have her right back, I promise.” Skinner handed Faith over without hesitation and Howard held her, making faces and bouncing her around. She laughed as she touched his face and he made an elephant noise. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He handed her back to Skinner, smiling at Scully with a wink.

Scully glanced at Rachel and smiled. She smiled back, taking a deep breath, and then clearing her throat. “So, we getting a tree or what?” Laughter and agreement rose up and everyone but Betty headed outside. Mulder set Bella down and Rachel bent down to pet her. “What did you decide to call her?”

“Bella,” Mulder said and Rachel stood up with a look of disbelief.

“Bella? That’s it? A black dog was given to you on Halloween, the birthday of your daughter, and you named her Bella?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and Scully smiled, liking Rachel more and more.

“Well,” Mulder laughed. “Her full name is Belladonna, which I chose, and yet her name tag, with that name engraved on it, had been already been purchased beforehand and sat in her box of items. Is that a more fitting name and story for a Halloween dog?”

“Oh, hell yeah. That’s a much better story than simply saying her name is Bella,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes with a smile.

“Uh huh,” Mulder grinned and then pulled her in for a hug. “It’s great to see you, Rachel.”

“Of course it is,” she said, stepping back and grinning. Scully smiled and Rachel looked at her, hesitation on her face until Scully embraced her, telling her she was happy to see her again.

“Hey! What the hell? Let’s go get the trees!” Skinner yelled, holding a laughing and happy Faith, as Howard laughed.

“Cool it, man. We’re coming!” Rachel called back and they all laughed, walking over to join them and pick out their trees. Mulder fell into step with the men and Scully and Rachel walked behind them, smiling at one another.

“It’s amazing how big Faith’s gotten in just over a month,” Rachel said, looking at her and Scully smiled, waving at her as she looked at her over Skinner’s shoulder.

“She has been going through a growth spurt. Eating a lot and sleeping more. Some of her clothes never had a chance to be worn, she’s growing so fast. I think she’ll be tall, well, taller than me anyway. Although that’s not too hard to accomplish.” She laughed and Rachel nodded with a smile.

“And here I always wanted to be shorter. It’s how it seems to go, right?” Rachel said and Scully nodded, truth in the statement.

“So, Howard and Betty. How exactly are they family?” Scully asked, as she heard the men laughing heartily knowing they were definitely not discussing moth men.

“Oh, they are old family friends. We moved here when I was ten, and that year we searched around to find a cut your own tree place like we had gone to in Washington, and we found this place. We didn’t really know anyone and my dad was a very charismatic man. You can imagine how he and Howard got along,” she smiled at Scully and she nodded, knowing how much she and Mulder had liked Howard. “Well, their kids were grown, and the oldest had gotten married and had a little girl, I think she was about four. We all sort of became this little non family-family. They were there after my father passed away, taking care of us and making sure we had food, and were doing okay. I didn’t come out here last year as my mother and I took a trip, so I missed them, and I’ve been busy recently with… well.” She looked at Skinner and Scully grinned.

“Yeah ya have,” she said under her breath and Rachel looked at her, her face reddening more than from the chill of the day. Scully laughed and hooked her arm through Rachel’s. “Please don’t be embarrassed or think I’m teasing you out of maliciousness. I am truly happy for the two of you. Mulder has never had anything but wonderful things to say in regards to you. And Skinner, Walter…” She shook her head and smiled, stopping them for a second, so she could look at Rachel. “He’s a good man, one to which I owe my life. I know you and I don’t know each other very well, not personally anyway, but seeing him with you, knowing you through Mulder, I can’t think of anyone better for him.” Rachel smiled and blinked her eyes, wiping at them quickly.

“Walter has said so many wonderful things about you, and Fox too, but mostly you. He’s told me how he was always impressed and in awe of you; the command you demanded without saying a word. As much as that is impressive, I told him that’s simply a woman getting shit done,” Rachel said with a smirk and Scully laughed loudly, her head falling back. She looked back at Rachel and they smiled at each other. “But he also said he owes you his life, so it seems you two are equal. I don’t know everything that’s happened, but I thank you. Thank you for saving him.” Scully stared at her and her eyes filled with tears. Nodding, she put her arms around her and they both gave a shaky laugh, wiping their eyes when they pulled apart.

“SCULLAAYYYY!” Mulder bellowed and Scully shook her head and laughed.

“Come on, we better catch up. He only says it that way when it’s really serious,” she said, rubbing Rachel’s arm as they started to head toward the sound of his voice.

“A fox in a forest calling for his mate,” Rachel said, shaking her head and laughing, as Scully smiled, thinking of all the forests and places he had called for her in that manner.

Yes, that was exactly what he was doing.

Catching up with them, the next forty five minutes were spent arguing, laughing, and passing Faith and Bella between them as they searched for the perfect trees. Howard laughed at them, siding with the women in every dispute over height, fullness, and kind of tree.

“I’ve been around a long time,” Howard said, slapping Mulder on the back as he shook his head at Scully. “It’s always best to side with the woman.” Scully smirked and Mulder sighed as he mouthed never, causing her to laugh.

Finally settling on a tree, they took turns, Scully and Rachel laughing, as Mulder and Skinner argued over the best way to cut them down.

“I did this last year, I know what I’m talking about,” Mulder said, instructing Skinner of the angle at which to cut the tree.

“One tree. You’ve cut down one tree and that makes you an expert? Shut up,” Skinner said, looking up from the base of the tree and shaking his head. “Just hold onto it and I’ll cut it down.” Mulder looked at Scully as Rachel danced around with Faith.

“One tree,” he said quietly, wiggling his eyebrows, looking down at Skinner and over at Rachel. Scully nodded with a smile, understanding the implication.

The tree cut, they carried it to the one Mulder and Scully had chosen, and set it down. Rolling up his sleeves, Mulder cleared his throat and knelt down to cut theirs down.

“Anyone interested in taking notes or a video even, to see how to properly cut down a tree, I’ll be here for a few minutes and willing to narrate as I work,” he said, as he began to cut down the tree.

“Seriously, how do you put up with him?” Skinner asked Scully and she laughed.

“He’s really cute and a great kisser,” she replied and he made a sound of disgust as he shook his head. Howard laughed and Scully winked at him.

The tree cut, Mulder stood up and grabbed Scully, kissing her loudly as he lifted her off of the ground, causing Bella to bark excitedly. Scully laughed against his mouth and kissed him again before he set her back down.

“One tree, Scully. Whose place do you think will be gifted with it?” he whispered close to her ear. He grinned as he stepped back and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Jesus… come on,” Skinner said and Scully saw Rachel smack his chest, Faith reaching for him with a laugh. “Sorry, honey. I have to help carry the trees, but I will hold you again soon.” He kissed her head and Scully saw a look on Rachel’s face that she had seen before, almost a sadness or longing. She smiled quickly, but her eyes still seemed sad.

“Here, I’ll take her,” Scully said, walking over to Rachel, smiling as she reached for her.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. You have Bella there, and I really don’t mind,” Rachel said, tickling Faith, not looking at Scully. Dropping her hands back down, Scully nodded and kept an eye on her as the men picked up both trees between the three of them, laughing and cursing as they did.

Walking behind them, Scully held Bella’s leash and stayed close to Rachel, feeling she wanted to say something. She heard her sigh, as Faith laid her head on her chest, saying Mama as she looked at Scully. Rachel suddenly sobbed out a breath and Scully stared at her. Tears ran down her face as she held Faith close.

“Rachel?” Scully asked, stopping her and touching her arm. Faith wiggled and pulled back to look at Rachel, touching her face with one hand, causing Rachel to cry harder.

“I’m… I’m so… sorry,” she gasped out and Scully shook her head.

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay, you go ahead and cry.” They stood in the middle of the trees, Scully gently touching her arm as she cried and Faith continued to stare at her, before laying her head back on Rachel’s chest.

As Rachel's tears began to slow, Scully took off the backpack she had taken from Mulder and searched inside for a tissue. Finding a small pack, she took them out, putting the backpack on again and handing one to Rachel.

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking it and wiping her eyes. “I don’t normally do this…” She gave a shaky laugh and Scully smiled.

“I shed some tears here myself last year. I think this place may carry some magic. Please don’t tell Mulder or he would want to conduct a thorough investigation,” she said, handing her another tissue.

Rachel laughed softly and nodded. “I’ve always felt that way about this place,” she agreed. Wiping her eyes again, she shook her head. “What you must think of me.” She looked down, not meeting her eyes.

“I think you’re carrying something heavy within you and it’s been there for a while. Something you may not even have known was there, but it’s decided to poke its head out and it’s causing you hurt and pain,” Scully said softly, watching Faith’s eyes grow heavy, tired from the excitement, and feeling warm and cozy as she was held by Rachel. “That’s what I think. Nothing more, nothing less.” Rachel nodded and rubbed Faith’s back, her eyes closed as she rested her cheek on Faith’s head.

“I’ve always wanted kids. Always. But…” She swayed slightly and shook her head. “It just didn’t work out. Seeing Faith at your wedding dinner, and even little Raina, it brought those feelings to the surface. I hadn’t thought of them in so long and that night… they were there again. And now,” She laughed softly and bitterly. “I’m with this amazing man, and all I can think is how much I would love to have a child with him. I know it’s fast. So fast.” She opened her eyes and looked at Scully, tears pooling in them. “I love him so much. It sounds so cliche, but I can’t imagine my life without him. I can’t.” Scully smiled and pulled her close for a hug, mindful of Faith sleeping, and they both sighed.

“Is your fear that he wouldn’t want a child? Because…” Scully said, shaking her head, stepping back as she looked at Rachel, who shook her head sadly.

“It’s not that. I’m 43. I’m… past child bearing age. There is adoption or foster care, of course, but I really wanted to have one of my own and my time has passed.”

“Oh, Rachel,” Scully said kindly. “No, you’re not. My situation was… well different to say the least, but… I’m 55 now and well…” She touched Faith’s back gently and smiled. “It’s not too late.”

“We haven’t even discussed anything close to this,” Rachel whispered. “I haven’t even told him that I… it’s too fast.”

“Is it?” Scully asked softly. “Is it really? Who determines when we fall in love? It may seem fast according to what society deems as “normal” but, six weeks, six months, would you still feel the same?”

“I would. I can’t begin to explain it, but I would. I... I knew it when I first saw him.”

“You just needed to be sure,” Scully whispered, staring into the distance, remembering many days of uncertainty, until she knew beyond a doubt that Mulder was her choice. He was and would always be the choice she made, again and again.

“Seven years,” she breathed, shaking her head, and closing her eyes with a smile. Laughing softly, she opened her eyes and looked at Rachel. “Don’t wait seven years to tell him how you feel. Don’t wait seven days. If you love him, tell him.” Rachel smiled, tears filling her eyes again, and Scully handed her another tissue.

“As for children…” Scully smiled at Faith. “I don’t think you need to worry about him. He acts gruff and grumbles a lot, but that’s how he shows his affection. How quickly did he take Faith from me? And he wouldn’t give her back.” They both laughed and Rachel nodded. “However children may come into your life, Rachel, if they do, he will love them with his whole heart.”

Rachel nodded and smiled, wiping her eyes again. Shifting Faith a little, she held her close and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said. “I talk to people every day for a living, but sometimes I’m the one who needs to be heard.”

“We all need that,” Scully said with a smile. “Are you ready to head back? Or would you like a little more time?” Rachel smiled and nodded once more.

“I’m ready” she said. Scully gave a gentle tug to Bella‘s leash and they continued walking toward the little gingerbread house, which they knew would be warm and inviting, and smelling of hot cocoa.

As Scully suspected may be the case, Betty had found a nearly identical nutcracker and would not hear of charging them to replace the one Bella had destroyed.

“You keep both,” she said. “It’s always good to see how what we do affects those around us. Seeing something like this, is a good learning tool sometimes. Life is messy, but we can always try and fix it, but it might not be exactly the same, which is why care needs to be taken with things we love.”

“Damn,” Mulder said. “You come for the trees and the pretty decorations and you get words of wisdom to boot.” She smiled at them both, and then continued to wrap the nutcracker.

They drank hot cocoa, eating fudge and cookies as they looked around, rehashing the experience of cutting down the trees, laughing as they did. Faith woke up, happy to find everyone was still together. Demanding attention, she found it was not hard to come by, when she flashed her blue eyes and smiled her sweet smile. They let her try some fudge and she enjoyed it, evidenced by her chocolate drooling smile.

A few new decorations were chosen for the tree and the house. Scully saw Betty throwing extra items into their bags and she knew by the time the decorations had been packed up and put away, they would most likely need another bin to hold all their new treasures.

Howard encouraged them to take a picture in the sled, all of them together, Bella included, as Mulder held her in his arms.

“Let’s get one of everybody,” Rachel insisted. “That means you too Uncle and Auntie.” Despite their protests, she maneuvered them into the sled as she set the timer on her phone and ran back to stand beside Skinner and wait for the picture to be taken.

They left together, walking out to their separate cars, the trees tied securely to the tops. Mulder placed their overflowing bags and the backpack in the backseat and put Bella in the travel crate they bought for her, in rear of the car.

Rachel still held Faith, but Scully saw a difference in her now, as though a worry had been lifted. Catching her eye, Rachel smiled and Scully knew it had. Whatever happened next, Rachel was ready to face it.

“Mama!” Faith shouted, reaching for Scully and Rachel smiled. Hugging her close once more, she handed her to Scully.

“She always smells so deliciously wonderful, I had to have one last sniff. That’s not super creepy is it?” Rachel laughed and Scully shook her head with a chuckle.

“Not at all. I find myself absolutely intoxicated by her scent as well. There’s something about the smells of a baby.”

“Hits you right in the ovaries, that’s for fucking sure,” Rachel mumbled and they stared at each other, understanding passing between them. Scully nodded and Rachel smiled. “Thank you for everything today. The listening ear, the discussion, the lending of this beautiful girl.” She touched Faith’s cheek and smiled again. “She’s so beautiful and such a happy little girl.”

“Unless she’s tired and hungry, then you might not recognize her,” Scully warned her with a smile.

“I don’t blame her, I’m the same way. Ask Walter about Pittsburgh one day. It was not pretty,” Rachel said with wide eyes. Scully laughed and nodded.

“Mulder could tell you many stories about that in regards to me. We’ll just steer clear of that topic around them, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rachel laughed.

“You ladies ready?” Mulder asked, walking over and kissing Faith’s head.

“Yeah,” Scully answered, smiling at Rachel.

Skinner walked over and they all shook hands and hugged goodbye. Faith was taken from her, lifted up and hugged and kissed. Mulder took her from Skinner, and as they said goodbye once more, Rachel grasped Scully’s hand and smiled, silently thanking her again. She nodded and squeezed her hand before Skinner and Rachel got into their car.

Watching them drive away, Scully smiled and took a deep breath, happy for what she knew was coming for them.

“What’s got you smiling so happily, Miss Scully?” Mulder asked, putting his arm around her.

“She loves him,” she said quietly, turning her head to look at him. He stared at her and gave her a look of mock astonishment.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said with a puzzled frown.

“Oh, did she tell you too?”

“She didn’t have to, I could see it,” he said, opening the car door and buckling Faith into her car seat.

“You could see it?” she asked as he shut the door.

“Yeah,” he answered, crossing his arms and staring at her. She raised her eyebrows at him and he grinned.

“I recognize the signs,” he shrugged. Her eyebrows went higher and he laughed, uncrossing his arms and pulling her towards him. “She looks at him the way you looked at me… the way you do look at me.”

“Is that right?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck with a smile.

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured. “Has she not actually said it yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Hmmm… and what was the brilliant advice you gave her?”

“I told her not to wait for seven years. Not even seven days. If she loves him, she should tell him.” She stared at him and he nodded, smiling as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you,” she smiled.

He kissed her and she pulled him closer, trying to put every missed I love you moment into the kiss. The times when they had nearly died and she wanted to tell him. The moments that seemed so small and insignificant, when her love for him had bubbled up to the surface, only to be tamped down; she tried to convey it all.

Breaking apart, they smiled, kissing once more before they got in the car. Reaching for her hand, he softly kissed her fingers and smiled.

“I know that saying it, putting it out there and leaving yourself vulnerable, is terrifying. Seven years, Scully,” he said quietly, staring at her with a smile. “Hearing it, of course it’s important. But, Scully… I saw your love far before I ever heard it. Rachel may be worried to say it, but trust me, Skinner already knows. Love can’t be ignored, not when it’s being silently shouted every time you look at the person you love.”

“God… you always say the science talk gets you hot, well when you talk like that, hoooo boy…” she said with a low moan. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded slowly.

“Well…” he said, clearing his throat, letting go of her hand and fumbling with the keys to start the car. “I say we, uh, we head on home.”

She laughed as he quickly backed up and they started down the road. The car smelled of Christmas as Faith babbled away in the backseat and Mulder reached for her hand again. Interlocking their fingers, he hummed under his breath, and she smiled at him, her heart filled with happiness and love.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Post MSIV #Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series #The Second Year Begins #New Adventures #Family #Family Life #Fluff #Humor #Light Angst #Discussions #New Relationship

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zinniarhee · 4 years ago

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Fox & The Hound || Zinnia & Alcher

Timing: 10/11/2020. Parties: @zinniarhee & @zahneundklauen Summary: Alcher visits Zinnia on her farm, Stark in tow. The two have a nice discussion over a meal and begin to pick apart their similarities.

Zinnia hadn’t ever invited anybody to her farm, not ever. There were solicitors who had come and gone, the typical delivery driver, but nobody who had come with the intent of staying, or visiting. As she watched out of her window, she realized that she was scratching through her own rules, the very ones she had written out to keep herself safe from harm. Though, hadn’t Alcher proven that she was trustworthy? No cop came her way to question about the dead man in the farmhouse some twenty miles out of town. There were no threats, and she wasn’t currently being blackmailed. Time could only tell, though. She knew that Alcher was not human-- she had seen it in her movements. Zinnia had run into a wolf a time or two to be able to tell, and by now, she was certain. She had expected to hear tires on gravel, but instead, saw Alcher, leash in hand with a panting pup by her side. She left the window and wandered to the door to pull it open. “You walked?” Zinnia asked as she walked towards her company. As soon as she reached them, she knelt down to smooth her palm overtop of Stark’s head. He licked her hand affectionately and rubbed into her leg as she did so.

So far, life in White Crest had been nothing like Alcher expected. While she had met two other wolves in desperate need of guidance, she’d met many others who were not human, but not wolf, as well. She’d even made friends with some of them. And a vampire, of all things! And now she was walking to Zinnia’s farm, someone who she’d tortured and killed a man with. Not that she regretted anything from that night. It had given her her companion, after all, who was walking excitedly by her side the entire way. His leg was completely healed and she’d already tested his endurance, which was greater than she’d expected. It was a pleasant surprise, one that she was happy to demonstrate. “Of course I walked,” she said to Zinnia as they approached. Stark’s tail started wagging when he saw her and Alcher watched him trot up to her, greeting her with a lick and some body rubbing. “How else would I get here?” It didn’t even occur to Alcher that automobiles were an option. She’d never learned to drive and never felt the need to. It was such a human action, after all. A human need. “He’s happy to see you,” she said, giving a soft smile. “I must say, I am, too.”

Zinnia raised a brow at Alcher’s words. She wanted to mention that cars were a thing, but it was possible that the woman did not drive, and so she left it at that. “It’s a long walk is all, depending on where you’re coming from.” She offered the blonde a smile before she turned her attention back to the dog who ran his nose into her side, silently begging for a belly scratch. Zinnia obliged as she scratched the underside, between his two front legs. “Oh?” She looked up at Alcher, “I have to say, it’s a pleasant surprise, being visited-- so I’d say that I’m happy to see the two of you as well.” Zinnia straightened out and glanced over her shoulder. Her cats were in the window, ears perked and eyes alert at their sudden company. The dogs barked, too. She wasn’t sure how well Stark would do in the new company, so Zinnia motioned for Alcher to follow her in the opposite direction, towards where she kept the tortoises. “If you’ll follow me,” She said over her shoulder as she led the way around the farmhouse.

Alcher let a smile grow on her face. Another thing she’d never thought she’d find was a sense of ease. Her entire life had been spent on the run, hiding in shadows, creeping behind closed doors. Even with her packs, even when she was alone in the woods-- she was always on alert. For hunters, for humans, for someone who could cause her harm. But somehow, she’d found a few places here where she was able to let herself relax. Jared’s farm was one, the overlook near hanging rock was another, and as she watched Stark beg Zinnia for attention and pets, she thought maybe this could be one, too. His ease helped her, as well. Even as the other dogs barked and made noise, Alcher was not perturbed. “I don’t mind the distance, I wasn’t coming from too far away,” she answered, following after Zinnia as she moved off. Stark looked from Alcher to Zinnia before following between the two, tail wagging. “Stark recovered very well from his injuries, thanks to you,” she noted off-hand, though she still had a bit of suspicion around it. She’d been sure his leg was broken, but when she’d awoken in the morning, Zinnia had said it was merely a fracture. “I take him for a run in the woods every morning now and it’s as if he was never injured at all.”

“Oh, good.” Zinnia continued to lead the way around the edge of the farmhouse, a small pen and enclosed space, her tortoises left to munch on the lettuce that she had brought out to them earlier in the day. She’d have to bring them in eventually once the cold began to close down around them. “I’ll keep that in mind, that it’s not a long walk.” She smiled over her shoulder as she unbolted the pen and stepped in, only to bolt it behind her. She began to check the water before patting the shell of Raphael. “I guess his injuries weren’t as bad as we thought,” She remarked as she straightened up. “Maybe he had a phantom injury-- dogs sometimes mimic that of having an injury when they’re in distress.” It was an easy lie, at least for now. She retreated to the gate again and propped her arms on top of it as she looked down at Stark who was looking into the pin curiously at the tortoises who looked unbothered by their company.

Alcher followed Zinnia over to the enclosure, surprised to find the tortoises. They always had peculiar smells, but she didn’t often encounter many tortoises-- or turtles-- in her travels. They were oddly fascinating. She watched Zinnia check in on them, tilting her head curiously as they munched on their greens. She looked over to her when she came back to the gate. Grinned slightly. “My brother used to do that,” she commented, as if that were something normal to say, “fake injuries to get out of things. I suppose that just....” she glanced down at Stark, who was watching the tortoises more curiously than Alcher had been. “--runs in the family,” she finished with a small chuckle. “So what else do you have on your farm? I heard the dogs and smelled the cats, but there’s a few other smells I can’t quite place. Besides them, of course,” she said, nodding to the pen.

“Used to do--” Zinnia only felt slightly bad for lying to Alcher, but it was for the best. She had already exposed so much of herself to the wolf already, she couldn’t chance it getting out that not only was she self-healing to an extent that was far beyond what others might be capable of, but the ability to heal others as well? Kaden already knew, and that was one person too many. “Maybe it does, maybe that’s why he’s the perfect fit.” She was happy to know that Stark had found his home, happy to know that he’d be in good hands. What had happened to him, it still stirred anger in the pit of her stomach, but it was over and done with now, the abuser no longer had a beating heart. That should be enough for her. “Well, a few other creatures here and there, I try to patch them up as best as I can, but… sometimes they prove to be difficult.” She unlocked the pen and walked out, making sure to secure it behind her. “Sometimes deer wander in, moose, too. You might smell some turkeys, they’re just beyond the property line.” She jutted her thumb in the direction opposite of her house.

“Maybe,” Alcher agreed softly, patting Stark on the head. He responded by licking his lips and looking up at her before letting his tongue loll out the side of his mouth again. Alcher gave a short chuckle. “Seems true enough.” Between the two of them, Stark would live a good life, Alcher knew this-- but she was glad Zinnia had offered him to her. She’d never really imagined her loneliness would be so overwhelming, but now that she had him, she realized that there was still something missing from her life, something she didn’t quite know how to achieve at this point. “Turkeys? Here?” she asked, looking up as Zinnia made her way out of the pen again. She tilted her head, both curious and excited, and smiled at her. “Oh, I’ll have to go hunting with him sometime. Fresh turkey really is quite delicious.” She smiled over at Zinnia. “But that’s not all I smell. It smells a lot like where I live now, and there’s certain...creatures that live there with this smell.”

“They hang around sometimes, yes.” Zinnia watched Alcher for a moment, eyebrows raised in surprise at her words. Though she didn’t condone the injury of any animal, hunting was different. It wasn’t close to abuse, especially with quick and swift movements, the animal would typically fall into darkness before it knew what was happening. “Make sure it’s quick, at least.” Zinnia laughed, though, she had a feeling that Alcher would have no issue in doing such. “Where do you live?” Zinnia asked innocently with a tilt of her head. She knew that Alcher already knew there were other creatures on her farm, and it wasn’t as if she couldn’t technically reveal them, but their safety was important to Zinnia. To be honest, Zinnia was unsure of what kind of issues a wolf would have with a number of the creatures that she had behind lock and key-- albeit, less like being in a prison, and more like being in an animal-like spa. “You would be correct, but they don’t like to be disturbed.”

“Do not worry, I was taught how to hunt properly to make sure the animal does not suffer,” Alcher responded coolly with a nod. “We always made sure to use every part of the animal as well.” Except when it came to humans. Their only role was prey and their only use was blood. But Alcher was still hesitant to share that with Zinnia, just smiling instead. “I actually live on another farm, a little further out of town. The person who runs it is rather secretive, considering the entire farm is inhabited by supernatural creatures that they save.” She gave a little sigh. “It’s rather like a sanctuary,” she murmured, not quite realizing the wistfulness to her voice, “one I would defend with my life.” When she looked back over at Zinnia, she had blinked away the feelings. Be sharp, her father had said, do not show weakness, even to allies. Her heart had always been her weakness. “That is alright, I was simply curious,” she said back. Stark sat down and gave a yawn, prompting Alcher to pat him on the head. “Are you hungry, cousin?” she asked, in a voice that was softer than normal. She crouched in front of him. “We’ve had quite a big day,” she said, looking back to Zinnia.

Zinnia wasn’t surprised by much, but she had to admit-- Alcher’s viewpoints on life, and the way she held herself, did surprise her. Not because she hadn’t seen them in another person before, but because they were closely aligned with her own way of thinking, and it was nice to see somebody who thought of the world the same way as she did, and unabashedly so. “Oh, do they?” Zinnia arched a brow. So there were other individuals who had taken on the same mission as her. She hadn’t been in White Crest long, but she wasn’t keen on forming friendships with just about anybody-- Alcher had been an exception, a surprising one at that. “So that’s why you’re familiar with the scent, then.” Zinnia smiled at Alcher, and she wondered what kind of creatures that Alcher so often ran into. She wondered if they labored over the same types of beings who simply needed their help. Zinnia looked between Alcher and Stark, a fond grin pulling at the corners of her lips. “Would you like something to eat? I have plenty of dog food.” Zinnia turned to look back towards her house. It was barren, not very lived in, save for the dog toys that littered the ground, as well as the cat houses. To some, it’d look like she only cared about her pets’ comfort, and they’d be right to assume as such. “I can put the cats away so that Stark can come in.” She motioned for Alcher to follow her as she retreated to the house.

Stark lit up at the word ‘food’ as if he already knew it. Alcher was pleased to see that he did and that he could associate it with something positive. That wretched human had done one good thing at least. Her face scrunched at the thought and she stood, following after Zinnia. “I could introduce you to them, if you’d like,” she offered as they walked, “I’m sure they would be happy to know of another who shares their point of view.” And Jared was entirely harmless. Not so harmless as to let his children get hurt, but Alcher was sure that if the blade were turned on him, he would not fight his way out. She wished it were different. “I hope it’s not too much of a bother,” she said when they made it up to the house, “we don’t mean to put you out.”

Zinnia felt something ripple against the back of her neck-- nerves, maybe? She glanced over her shoulder at Alcher and offered her a smile, “That would be great.” She wasn’t sure about meeting others, or admitting what she had been doing in her spare 130 some odd years, but if Alcher trusted them, then maybe Zinnia could too. She wondered silently if they were human, but quickly excused the idea. Alcher didn’t seem the type to fraternize with humans. Not willingly, at least, and Zinnia couldn’t picture her living with any, either. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” Zinnia smiled as she took the steps to the screen door. “Just wait a moment.” She slipped inside, corralling the cats into a separate room. She knew that they wouldn’t mind Stark, but she wasn’t entirely sure about his reactions to other animals, much less cats. The smell of them would be enough to drive nervous energy into him. She returned to the door and held it open, “Come in.” She stepped aside and lead the way to the kitchen, busying herself with filling an unused food bowl with the best brand of food that she could find, before setting it down for Stark. “Would you like anything?” Zinnia directed her question to Alcher as she watched Stark begin to munch away on the food.

“Great!” Alcher said with a smile back at her. Stark rubbed up against her leg and she patted him on the back. “He’s happy, too.” She waited just outside the doors as she let Zinnia clean up the house and put the cats away, and Stark yawned, laying down for a moment while he waited. It was a quiet moment that Alcher took to reflect upon the situation, and how much trust she was often putting in Zinnia. Not only had they struck down an abuser together and rescued Stark, but she had helped her no questions ask when she had approached her with questions of sleepwalking and glass eating. And now she was here, on her farm, with an invitation into her house. Smiling, she bent down to pet Stark some more when the door opened again and Zinnia ushered them in. Stark bounded happily over to the bowl of food, pausing only for a few moments to sniff around the house, wondering what that strange smell was. Alcher shook her head, giving a chuckle. “Curious, hmm?” When the question was directed at her, she looked up at Zinnia. Usually, she would brush it off as human hospitality, but she had already proved that she didn’t abide by those niceties. “Sure,” she said, “if you have something.” She came around towards the kitchen, moving away from Stark for the first time since they arrived-- and possibly for the first time since bringing him home. He continued to munch away on his food and she stopped at the counter. “You live here by yourself? Well,” she glanced back out the window, “aside from the animals.”

Zinnia wasted no time in digging into the fridge, unearthing kielbasa and a leftover pasta she hadn’t quite finished. At Alcher’s question, she nodded. “By myself, yes.” She had been by herself longer than she could remember-- it wasn’t something that had ever bothered her. She had come across others like her, but none of which she felt compelled to follow. She had her own duties, they had theirs. Many of those whose paths she crossed were indebted to individuals, and so Zinnia was requested to leave, before she, too, became indebted. It was a quiet life, but she made her company in the creatures she frequently rescued. “It’s not that bad, it gets quiet, but the dogs-- they’re loud enough.” She smiled at Alcher as she prepared the pan to start searing the kielbasa. “I’ve never lived with anybody-- maybe my parents when I was a child, but I don’t remember them.” Zinnia had made her peace with the fact that she couldn’t recall memories prior to her first slaughter. Maybe it was due to the fact that she chose not to. The brunette worked on preparing the pasta, too, giving it a quick moment to heat up before plating everything up for Alcher and herself.

Alcher, too, had lived on her own most of her life. Even when she lived with the Polish pack, she’d always felt alone. Retreated to her own space, her own room, and stayed quiet within herself. Tracking hunters down across Europe and Asia meant always being alone. Always coming home alone. But her isolation felt different than this. This felt...calm. Intended. Almost peaceful. Alcher realized she would have given anything to have had something like this, at any point in her life. It reminded her of the farm in Germany and it reminded her of her family, of the last time she’d ever felt peaceful. Blinking, she tore her mind away from those thoughts and focused instead on the present. She gotten her vengeance for her family and she’d made her amends with their deaths. Though something was still missing, she could not think about it now. “You don’t remember your parents?” she asked, unable to help herself. The food Zinnia was preparing smelled amazing and Alcher watched her curiously.

In the beginning of her trek across the country, of doing her due diligence, Zinnia had made peace with the idea that she couldn’t remember. Why that was, she wasn’t sure. If it were a spell cast by an individual, her own neurons firing in different directions, reaching into the depths, to wipe her memory clean of her mother’s soft smile, of her father’s worn hands-- she could not remember. Maybe she chose not to. Maybe they were terrible people. Maybe she had grown to be like them. “No, I don’t.” Zinnia offered Alcher a harmless smile, one that told her the question was not invasive. She shared this information freely, always passing it off as being adopted-- which, in a way she had been, by the nature surrounding her-- by animals she took into her care. She pushed the plate of the finished food in front of Alcher and motioned for her to take a seat at the large wooden table that was sidled up against the wall. She cleared a few pieces of paperwork she had been looking over and took her own seat. “We split up a long time ago,” Zinnia picked up her fork and cut the side of it into the kielbasa, not bothering to use a knife. She didn’t care much for table manners, not in her own home. “When I was… maybe sixteen?” Zinnia couldn’t be sure if she had gotten the age right. She tilted her head to the side, curiosity washing over her features as she tried to search for a clear answer, “I’ve made my own life over the years, I don’t believe they’ve made that great of an impact on me.” She took a bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully.

Alcher took the plate gratefully and followed Zinnia to the table, sitting adjacent to her. There was a fork on her plate and she supposed she should use it, awkwardly lifting it into her hand and jabbing it into the sausage. She listened carefully to Zinnia’s words, to her story, her reason for not remembering her parents. Sixteen was young to leave ones parents. Twelve was younger. Alcher took a bite and let a silence settle for a moment before speaking. “I think you’ve made a great life for yourself,” she answered truthfully, wondering if it was sadness for herself or sadness for the idea that pounded in her heart when she took in her words. “I find myself thinking of my parents almost daily. And my brothers,” she twirled some of the pasta onto the fork, using both hands to adjust the utensil before picking it up with her left. “They all died when I was twelve. I think I envy you,” she said after a long moment, her words chosen carefully, “I’m not sure I want to forget them, but it sounds nice, in theory, to not remember.”

A lot of Zinnia’s time had been spent with creatures who couldn’t speak. It was strange, speaking to somebody who could absorb her words-- with somebody who could tell their own stories-- stories she didn’t have to figure out based on their injuries or their owners. Zinnia offered Alcher a polite smile, “I appreciate that, I believe so too.” Zinnia took another bite of the kielbasa. When Alcher spoke of her parents, Zinnia kept her eyes low, on her plate. She nodded, “that must have been hard.” She set her fork down after chewing the rest of her bite. “That’s very young.” She wasn’t sure what to do with admittance, or feelings, or what Alcher was clearly telling her now. She decided to try her best, “it’s nice, but only for a little while.” Zinnia propped her elbows up onto the table, cupping her chin in her hands. “I can’t remember their faces, or their voices-- their names? Barely.” She had trouble sounding their names out, was it Jae Ho or Jae Hyun? She couldn’t remember, not now. It had been too long, repressing their memory. “Dead doesn’t mean gone,” Zinnia offered her words, unsure if they would mean anything at all. “If they’re with you, they’re with you.” Maybe Zinnia just chose not to remember, maybe for a reason she couldn’t quite decipher. She looked down at Alcher’s plate. She wasn’t sure she was ready to divulge just how old she was, or rather the process of tails. It’d be confusing, she assumed. Maybe Alcher thought of her as nothing more than a fox, not a Kumiho. Did Alcher know the extent of what she was? Or did she think of her as another shifter? “Do you like the food?“ Zinnia asked after a moment.

Alcher understood on some level that her admission often made people uncomfortable. How did one even respond to something like that? Total loss was confounding to people. Sometimes even other wolves. But Alcher had accepted long ago that her story was not shameful. And if people didn’t know how to respond to her, then it wasn’t her problem. She carried their names and their hearts proudly, and while there would always be something missing inside of her, she had worked through the hopelessness and despair of her family being taken from her. She had found purpose in her mission to strike down everyone that had been there that night. And she had found a way to carry their loss with her always and make it lighter. Striking down hunters so that they could never do that to another family again. “It was, yes,” she answered quietly. “It was so long ago, but I remember the day like it was yesterday. You don’t have to feel sad, though. I’ve made my amends with them,” she explained, setting her fork down. “I’ll always have them, even if they’re not here with me.” And though it was strange to her that Zinnia knew nothing of her family, she didn’t question it. That was just her life and who she’d become. Perhaps in another life, that could’ve been Alcher. She didn’t need to question what or who Zinnia was, she was perfectly acceptable just the way she was. “The food is excellent,” she answered, giving her a gentle smile. “You are a good cook. Even Stark thinks so.”

In the 150 years that Zinnia had been alive, she had always had a difficult time discerning how she was supposed to feel. She knew the basics, knew when she was supposed to be angry, sad, or elated, but it typically stopped there. Over the past twenty or so years, she’s made it to the point where empathy has entered her vocabulary-- typically with animals, not beings who could speak. The current situation with Alcher, it was a new one, one that she wasn’t keen on shying away from, not just yet. “I’m glad you’ve found it in yourself to make amends,” Zinnia said, unclasping her hands. She picked up her fork and took a bite of her pasta. Zinnia had seen ghosts, but never of her family-- whoever they were. She had never seen their faces, never heard their voices. She had seen and heard plenty of others, all begging her to guide them-- guide them where she was unsure. It was not her job. Though she was connected to the spirit world in a sense, she had no duty to them. She blinked up from her plate at Alcher’s compliment and smiled, “I’m glad you think so.” She glanced over to Stark who had finished the food from his bowl, his tail wagging as he looked out the window onto the other dogs that were piled in a corner of the yard. “It’s a wonder that we’ve met,” Zinnia said with a tilt of her head, “I’m happy to have made a... friend in somebody like you-- we have the same mind.”

Alcher had never found silence uncomfortable. She spent most of her life as a creature that could not talk, anyway, and she had learned to love the stillness that silence could provide. That didn’t meant, however, that she didn’t enjoy talking. As long as it wasn’t small talk. And somehow, it never felt that way with Zinnia. She felt a smile pulling onto her face at her words, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm. There was something about the other woman that just drew her in. She wasn’t sure what, but she couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. Perhaps it was her mystery, or perhaps it was just their similarities. “It seems we do,” she agreed, letting herself relax. Stark came plodding over, finally bored with watching the dogs outside, and nuzzled his chin onto her lap. She patted his head again. “I’m happy to have made a friend in you, too,” she went on, looking back over at Zinnia, “I’ve not met many others like you in my travels, even of my own species. It’s--” she paused, wondering if there was a word for it in English. Deciding there wasn’t, she defaulted to what was closest, “--fulfilling. Makes me feel just...a little less alone.” Zinnia knew to be careful, to be hesitant-- Alcher was no exception, but there was something about the woman, no, the wolf, that Zinnia found… comforting. Maybe it could be boiled down to the fact that they had tortured somebody (deservingly) together, or maybe it was something altogether, she couldn’t yet be sure. Zinnia watched as Stark made his way back to them, his head immediately finding Alcher’s lap. She smiled at him from over the table. Maybe it was Stark’s immediate acceptance of Alcher that had made Zinnia fall into the friendship in ease. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a friend, or anybody but herself, for that matter. It was different. It was nice. The idea of relying on somebody, however, had a knot forming in her stomach. “Well, one in a million, I suppose.” Zinnia took another bite of her pasta and chewed thoughtfully as she watched Stark. After she swallowed, she spoke, “I have to agree. It does make it feel less alone, it’s something… I’ll get used to, I think. With you, I don’t believe I mind.”

#para: alcher #para: fox & the hound #chatzy

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