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covenofwives · 11 months

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Going Home

Dream and George are finally together again, and their first plan of action is to get to the End and kill the enderdragon. Easy enough right? Nothing will go wrong right?

Disclaimer: This is a non-tickle fic

Finally here and done! Part one of three to the next part of the God Sibling AU. This fic has no tickling in it and is mostly lore stuff. But do not worry, part two is coming right after this one and it has ticking. Feel free to skip this one if you like but you might be missing some stuff.

Apologies for the sudden perspective shift in the fic as well, originally it was planned differently and I really didn't want to undo all the work put in so they were merged to one.

Enjoy!

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It was nearing to a months worth of travel for Dream and George. The first couple of days had been spent sneaking and avoiding being caught while they traversed through the SMP and the Nether. George was lucky as he could still be seen without anyone catching on, but Dream had to jump to a bush or up a tree at the sign of anyone passing by.

Even with the server on high alert, the two had made it to the edge of the SMP’s usual zone and ventured out further. Their steps were easy now that they didn’t have to look over their shoulders every few seconds.

Even though they were far away from the usual area, they decided travelling by night would be better to avoid being caught. When the moon was high they’d walk, fighting their way through the mobs and when sunrise came they’d build a small underground home and sleep the day away. They’d usually wake around sunset and repeat the process.

The first week was spent with Dream explaining as much as he could to George. The stronghold, with the portal still in tact, would take the two to the End realm. After dropping the bombshell that Dream was from the End, he went on to casually explain that when they arrived, they’d meet a dragon and the plan was to kill it.

George’s mind raced wildly to all the information he was suddenly given and just told to accept. Setting aside his questions for now, his focus was entirely on the dragon. George had never seen a dragon before. Of course he’d seen pictures of dragons and heard stories of them, but that was all make believe. Now Dream was telling him that not only were they real, but they were also going to kill it.

“I’ve seen it once before, but I don’t remember it much.” Dream admitted as the two were carefully climbing over the vines on the tops of the jungle trees. “She was big - I think it was a she - and she’s vicious. She took over the End.”

“How are we supposed to kill it then?” George asked, trying not to let the mental image of his creature grow any larger.

“Because she’s been trapped there, alone, for years. Apparently she showed up in the End before I was even born. Way before. And she’s been trapped on this little island.” Dream explain, talking fast in the way he’d do when his mind was running high with excitement. “And she’s had no-one to fight. She’s had no-one to fight all this time so she’s probably grown weak, and even if she hasn’t she’ll be old by now. We can take her.”

Dream’s confidence was infectious, but also scarily daunting. Because when Dream was confident nothing could talk him out of it or change his mind and George made himself accept that.

After explaining his plan to kill the dragon, Dream said how the End was full of scattered cities that held powers unknown. Potions, knowledge, even the power to fly. If Dream and George controlled that, then they’d have control of the server. When George brought up XD being an issue, the blonde scoffed.

“He won’t even bother.” He shrugged. “He won’t even know it’s happened until we’ve got everything we need. Then he has to listen to us and we’ll make him see things our way.”

“What exactly is ‘our way’?” George asked.

Dream shrugged that answer off too, claiming the usual things about power over the server, having control over it all. George wasn’t so sure, but it’s not like he had much of a plan either. Control over the server was a tempting thought, even though it’d be a hell of a lot to explain to the others.

Speaking of the others, George had very tentatively tried to bring up the subject of Sapnap, and trying to talk with him and maybe get him involved but Dream shut that down. He claimed now wasn’t the right time for that, and they’d get Sapnap back but it had to be later, after everything was in place. At least George tried.

The second week, the two laid out rough battle plans. Assuming the dragon could fly - which Dream was sure she could - they’d need arrows. Dream had the plan that if George could distract her, he could build up and jump on the dragon to take out her wings. Once she was grounded it would be easier to fight her.

The third week, tension started setting in between the two. They were disorientated from the sleep schedule and everything was starting to annoy them. They’d bicker over nothing which turned into stupid fights and ended with them both stomping off to sleep separately. But it always ended when Dream would seek George out, shuffle into his bed behind him, hugging the smaller man and whispering apologies.

“I didn’t mean it.” Dream mumbled into the back of George’s neck. “I’m sorry. I need you, George. I can’t do it without you.”

And they would carry on, though George wondered if they would have been so forgiving to one another if they weren’t already so close to the coordinates. It came into the fourth week and the two arrived.

George had expected the thick forest to start breaking up into a clearing, or they’d eventually catch sight of a temple hidden in the overgrown forest but there was nothing like that. The two stood in the middle of the forest and only when George looked at the coordinates again did he realised what he missed. The stronghold was underground.

Digging down into the stronghold didn’t take as long as they had thought, but when George looked back up, the surface was a barely visible tiny dot. Dream broke through to the stronghold and George followed in after. George didn’t really know what to expect with a place called a ‘stronghold’ but somehow the place made sense. The two landed in a dark stone brick corridor. There were iron doors to the right and left and ahead there was a short staircase, leading down to a crumbled in wall.

Dream’s excitement overtook George’s curiosity to look around so the two had found the portal room in couple of minutes.

The room was wider than any of the other rooms. To the immediate left and right there were small pools of lava, making the room shine out in the dark corridors. The walls were lined with thin metal bar windows which didn’t make much sense since the stronghold was underground. The windows were looking out to complete blackness.

The main show of the room was in the centre. There was a three wide staircase leading up to what must have been the portal. It was a three by three wide structure, made up of strange blocks George had never seen before. They looked like stone, but slightly yellow and rough, and the tops of them were decorated with green trims. The middle of the block was hollowed out, making a perfect indent for the ender eyes to fit into. Under the portal frames was a huge pool of lava, which George quickly got rid off with water before any accidents could happen.

“Yes! This is it! This is IT!” Dream’s voice rose with his excitement and immediately set down his bag. He admired the portal frames, looking over every detail of them, while George took another look around the room.

In his shock to actually finding the room and looking over the portal he hadn’t noticed the strange growth along the back of the floor.

None of the stone bricks were cracked, but along the floor and climbing up the walls was a strange moss. Or maybe not even a moss. It looked like it had the same texture but it wasn’t spread out in large clumps, more like tiny little sprinklings here and there. There were small speckles of lights in the moss, pulsing with a faint glow every few seconds.

George thought the moss looked familiar. He was sure he’d seen it before, exploring somewhere with Dream and XD but when he looked at the moss on the wall his eyes caught onto the barred windows again. What he assumed was just the darkness of stone against the walls was actually more of the moss. Outside of every window it was covered in the moss.

“Uh… Dream?” George turned back to see Dream setting up a base of some sort. He had set up the beds and was sorting through his inventory. “What’s this… I don’t know, this moss?”

Dream gave just a quick glance over, hardly looking and turned back to his task. “I dunno.” He shrugged. “Moss must have grown from the damp.”

That seemed near impossible. The lava pools kept the room warm and dry, but it wasn’t exactly a normal looking moss so maybe it didn’t grow how normal moss did. George was more annoyed to the fact that Dream wasn’t taking it seriously.

“It’s not normal…”

“It’s not our concern. Just…come over here! Let’s go over the plan.”

George dropped it, because that would be the end of it. Dream had moved on to the next thing, and George would follow.

He had half expected Dream to want to jump right in to minimise the risk of being caught by DreamXD, but Dream had a lot of faith in their ability to remain hidden. He set up a small base for them in the portal room with the beds and made a last minute list of things they needed. The two then split up collecting them. Dream went to take on skeletons for the bows and arrows, and George’s collected as many blocks as he could.

Both exhausted from the day, they agreed to sleep, gathering their strength for the battle coming tomorrow. George could see Dream’s excitement before they laid down to sleep. He was practically shaking with glee, mumbling to himself and very few times he’d address George with, “We can do this. I know we can.” But George couldn’t tell if he was saying it as a confidence boost, or trying to convince himself.

George fell asleep staring at the moss glowing through the metal bars. The glow was eerily hypnotic, making George feel unsettled and fear if he looked away the moss would somehow move. He fell into an uneasy sleep, with the glow always watching.

The two woke, anxiety and excitement thick in the air between them. George was trying to eat for strength and settle his nerves as he watched Dream zip around from chest to chest, sorting out their inventories.

Dream must have woken sometime before George, because his once long and scraggly hair was cut short. It came to his shoulders now, unevenly cut, but it was looking more ruffled and fluffy than unkempt. He looked more like himself as he threw it back into a messy ponytail.

After an uneasy breakfast, they went over their materials. Each of them had a diamond sword, a diamond pickaxe, a water bucket just in case and iron armour (which George wanted to be diamond but they didn’t have time to find any). George was then given a bow with most of the arrows and Dream was given majority of the blocks mined with his own bow and a few arrows.

They both stood at the top of the stairway leading to the portal. All the eyes had been filled in except for one, which Dream held tightly in his hand. It pulsed more than ever, like it knew what was happening and just anticipating this moment.

“Once I put in the last eye, we need to jump in right away.” Dream explained. George looked over the edge nervously, obviously not liking the idea of just falling into a portal but he was glad he took care of the lava underneath.

“You remember the plan?” Dream asked and George only gave a slow nod, eyes not leaving the portal frame. “We can do this. Our plan will work. We have this.”

If the words inspired George as they seemed to Dream, it wasn’t shown. He just held his sword tightly and looked down to the portal. After a moments silence he gave a slow nod.

It was like the world fell into slow motion. George watched, with held breath, as Dream reached down and positioned the eye over the portal frame. His fingers slowly let go and the eye fell from his palm, falling perfectly into the frame. As soon as the eye touched onto the frame, a large thunderous boom erupted from the portal and echoed over what felt like the entire server. George’s ears felt like they were about to explode, but the feeling past in less than a second as the sound faded out.

The boom seemed to the right the world back into regular time. The frame suddenly lit up, and the spot in the centre was filled with a strange portal.

It looked like a night sky, but instead of a blue tinge, it was green. There were speckles of blue and teal stars shimmering and shooting through. It looked like DreamXD’s mask.

“We need to go now!”

Dream’s voice broke George from this thoughts and he looked over. His own expression must have been in doubt, because Dream quickly reassured him. “We’ve got this, okay? It’s me and you! We can do this!”

“Dream I…” How long had they stood here now? How soon would XD realise something was wrong and fly straight to them? How much trouble would they be in?

“Please George…”

Dream’s voice was soft and it flicked some kind of switch in George. Suddenly he wasn’t worried for the trouble he’d be in. His thoughts were on Dream. He imagined XD finding them, grabbing them both. He saw XD dragging Dream back to the prison, who was screaming bloody murder and he was locked away again. Locked further away with no visitors and no chance for freedom.

That thought scared George more than whatever lay on the other side of the portal. This was the only option now.

Dream’s hand outstretched and George grabbed it with no hesitation. Dream pulled, and the two fell into the portal together.

The nauseating feeling of teleportation was never something Dream got used to. In his defence, he had only ever felt this type of teleporting once before. Like plunging into cold water but without getting wet. It felt unnatural.

It could have been seconds or hours passed before Dream felt right again. He could slowly feel the world shape around him. The stone against his back was rough and uneven. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking up to a yellow sky.

No. Not a sky. It was stone. Rough, uneven yellowish stone.

Dream’s thoughts quickly went to George, and he looked around to see the brunette was not that far away. The two had teleported into what looked like a boxed off room, and George was only a few feet away, pushing himself to stand up.

Dream followed after, turning over and pushing himself up. The yellow stone felt rough under his hands. The air wasn’t cold, but it didn’t feel warm either. It was like an absent of temperature, something that couldn’t really be described. But as weird as the air felt, and as rough as the stone was it felt familiar to Dream. A thousand memories swarmed back into his head, making him nauseated with nostalgia, but he shook them away and tried to focus on the now.

Now he was here. He was in the End. He was with George. He and George were going to kill the dragon.

“Are you alright?”

George’s voice full of worry snapped Dream out of his thoughts and he looked over. The mismatched were worrying over him as well, confusing Dream until he realised he was leaning over the wall.

Quickly shaking off his fatigue Dream pushed himself up. He had to swallow back the bile in his throat before speaking, but he kept himself controlled and stood up straight. “I’m fine.” He forced his hand of the wall and made his legs balance. “The portal just confused me.”

It was eerily quiet, but the two knew there would be more outside this box. Dream chose a random wall and George helped him dig it out. George dug straight ahead and Dream started digging up, making a staircase up until he finally broke through to the outside. He called George up after.

Over the travels Dream had tried his best to explain the End, but there was really no words to describe it. When the two broke out into the surface it was a completely different world. They were on an island floating in the middle of a void. The sky was an endless sea of dark purple with what looked like tiny stars in the distance; never in focus.

The island must have been huge, as Dream couldn’t see the other end of it, but directly behind them was a fall into the void. All over the island enderman aimlessly wandered or stood in small groups speaking to one another. Few noticed the two and even less looked their way; though Dream and George were doing their best to avoid looking at them.

While the island seemed massive it wasn’t empty. Just a few feet ahead there were large obsidian towers that varied in different sizes. Some were tall, but others reached so high that the tops of them couldn’t be seen. They seemed to form an uneven circle around and Dream guessed there would be more towers on the other side of the island as well.

But why are they here? Did XD put them here? Do these towers keep in the dragon?

Dream tried sorting through the new memories. He thought he could remember seeing the black towers before, but he honestly couldn’t be sure.

“Where is it?” George asked, not leaving Dream’s side. He clutched his bow close to himself as he looked around. “The dragon? Where is she?”

Suddenly remembering the mission, Dream pushed aside his memories for now and his eyes scanned the area. A dragon would surely be easy to spot, yet Dream saw and heard nothing.

Going as quietly as they could, Dream and George ventured further to the middle of the island. Or what they could assume was the middle. The more tentative steps they took, the more obsidian towers kept coming in to view over the horizon.

“There’s something on top of the towers.” George pointed out. Dream looked over him, then followed George’s line of sight up to the tops of the tower. There was something on top of them. It was giving off a faint glow and bobbed up and down like it was keeping afloat. “What are they?”

“I don’t know.” Dream’s voice came out in a part growl through his gritted teeth. He was annoyed there was so much he didn’t know, so much he didn’t plan for, but it probably came out as being annoyed about George because his friend suddenly went quiet.

The words to apologise were on the tip of Dream’s tongue, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden low rumbling sound filled the air and he shut his mouth quickly.

It sounded like it came from all around them. A deep growling within the stone that just grew louder and louder.

Dream switched to survival mode and grabbed George’s arm to pull him to one of the tall towers. They pressed their back against the obsidian while looking around for any sign of the dragon. Few of the enderman were moving to the edges of the island but they weren’t moving quickly or in a panic. The rumbling turned into growls and just before Dream left to check on the other side of the tower, he saw it.

It was a claw. A long, black claw attached to a huge black scaled hand that stretched up high before slamming into the ground, digging into the yellow stones. There was a low rumble and the hand pulled more of itself up. There was the huge body of the dragon. Dark opalescent scales shimmered and stretched along the flank. A large leathery wing outstretched up. The back leg caught onto the end of the platform and pulled itself up further. And just before the head of the dragon appeared, George grabbed Dream’s arm and pulled him to the other side of the tower and out of sight.

Dream heard the words “that’s her” again and again, but when he looked to George he realised the words were coming from himself. George hissed him to be quiet.

Dream strained his ears to hear where the Dragon was moving. The growls seemed to sway back and forth on the side of the pillar before the creature made her way forward.

The Dragon was larger than Dream ever remembered. She had a wide forehead that tapered to her muzzle. Her grey horns stretched along her neck, blending in with the spikes that ran down her neck and spine and ended on her tail.

Before she took another step forward, Dream and George slipped around the tower again, keeping out of sight. The Dragon growled again, and gave a half hiss as she walked towards the middle of the island.

“Dream look!” George hissed in a whisper. He pointed to the Dragon’s side, where there were long slashes leaking a neon purple blood. “She’s hurt.”

“Maybe we can get the jump on her while she’s weak.” Dream said, feeling hopeful for the first time since seeing the beast. “We can… Wait…”

Dragon hissed and winced as she made another step forward. She veered off from the centre of the island, going to one of the obsidian towers and slowly climbing up it. Her claws barely made a dent into the cooled lava stone, but she got enough of a grip onto it where her head perched at the top, and something began to glow and then shoot a ray of white and purple light towards her.

The ray wasn’t harmful, that was clear. Dragon almost seemed like she was consuming the light, opening her mouth and making a low growling sound but the light was shooting off, like it was electricity, into her chest and body. The thick gashes on her sides slowly began to close and then they vanished.

“Those towers heal her.” Dream mumbled out loud.

“What now?” George asked, his voice just on the verge of panic.

As Dragon climbed back down from her perch and sauntered over to the centre of the island, Dream and George pushed further back around the tower, completely out of sight, and began to revise a plan.

“Okay.” Dream started. “She gets healed by whatever is on top of those towers. I think I can see one of them.” He pointed out to one of the further towers. There was shape at the top of it, but he couldn’t make it out. “So I’ll go up and destroy them.”

“She’ll see you then!”

“Yes!” Dream quickly calmed his friend. “She will, so I need you to try and distract her with arrows. If you watch me build up and see just as I destroy whatever is up there, then shoot at her and get her attention. From a distance!” Dream quickly added when he saw George open his mouth to argue. “Then when I’ll destroy another one of those things and she’ll try get back to me. Then you distract her again.”

“That’s not going to work. She’s going to either charge and kill me, or she’ll go straight for you!”

“Then if she goes for me, you take over taking out things at the top of the tower! If she’s going for you, you can outrun her.”

“Outrun her?! She’s a dragon! She’s going to fly over and kill me!”

“Then do you want to take out the things on top of the tower?!”

He knew he was unfairly snapping. Being so frustratingly close to his goal and being argued with at every step was a pain; but he knew the questions and the concerns George were bringing up were important and valid to talk about.

“I just… I know you can do it.” Dream calmed himself down to talk again. He saw George’s shoulders slack a little. “But we’re so close, we can do this.”

“Can’t we just…leave the island?” George asked hopefully, pointing out to the edge. “We have ender pearls, blocks, and we can mine out a few more blocks from the edges of the island. We can look for the cities and ships without fighting her.”

“No! She has to die.”

“Why?”

Because Dream couldn’t think of the dragon without remembering a long ago promise. When he was small and lived here, and XD was constantly checking on the beast with a worried look on his face and Dream promised he’d kill the dragon. He’d free the End for everyone and XD had shot him down. He told little Dream he’d go nowhere near the dragon but Dream kept that promise in his heart. He’d kill the dragon and the siblings could go home again, and they could open the End for everyone else.

And XD would be proud of him again.

“She needs to die.”

He could see the fight still in George. He opened his mouth to say more, but instead he just closed his mouth. He resettled the bow on his back and sighed. “Alright…”

They made a check of where Dragon was, then set off. She was slowly circling the island, so Dream started climbing up the tower she used to heal herself. George said he’d get closer to Dragon but not too close and Dream only hoped he was in position as he got to the top of the tower.

The structure at the top of the tower was something Dream had never seen. It was hard to stare at without his eyes hurting. It was like two cubed crystallised glass that constantly bobbed up and down over the ground. The crystals were constantly in motion. One of the glass squares was on the outside and there was one on the inside, constantly spinning and flipping around but they never tangling or getting in the way of one another. In the centre of both of them was a dark pink cube. It was spinning in time with the crystals and glowing with symbols or text Dream couldn’t recognise.

Dream thought it best to be cautious dealing with whatever this was. He broke two blocks below him, making a sort of cover area for him and looked around for George. He couldn’t see the brunette at all. Dragon was still calm, so she hadn’t found him but he was completely out of sight. Dream had to assume he was somewhere behind one of the pillars and readied his bow.

The arrow hit the crystal, and the explosion was as loud as Dream suspected. He had ducked down behind the tower just as the fiery explosion rushed past his head. When the heat died down, Dream heard Dragon growl. He managed to sneak a look around the corner to see her whip her head around to the tower he was on and his heart thumped.

She took one step closer, slowly opening her maw but an arrow then flew to the side of her face. It hit to the side of her mouth and was enough to turn her attention. She made a half roar, and turned herself to the direction of the shot.

Dream just managed to catch George running behind a tower, next to a hole in the yellow stone. He jumped down, covered it up and by the time Dragon got behind the tower he was fully gone.

Relief flooded through Dream’s veins, relaxing the grip on his bow and began climbing back down.

Dragon was still frustratingly looking for George as Dream blocked up to the next tower. He looked around for any sign of George and he saw him just digging up from the ground, popping his head up and looking for Dream. When he saw Dream in position he readied his bow.

The two worked well, getting rid of two more crystals with this pattern. Dragon’s growls were growing more frustrating with every explosion and distraction. On the last crystal it took George two arrow shots before she gave up going for the tower. Dream suspected the next tower she wouldn’t give up and they’d have to deal with it.

It was a risk Dream was willing to take. That’s what he told himself as he climbed up the tower, stopping just a few blocks down. He raised his bow, aimed to the crystal…

And there was nothing there.

The bedrock platform was empty. Dream was stunned, aiming still where he was sure the crystal would be before lowering his bow and muttering a small: “what…?”

Had someone already tried this attack? Did DreamXD? Dream remembered they told him how they tried to fight Dragon when she first arrived. Did XD try and destroy these crystals too? Was that still not enough?

The rabbit hole of thoughts and regrets was suddenly interrupted as Dragon made a loud, almost shrieking roar and George screamed Dream’s name.

Dream looked around to where he saw George position, and then he looked at Dragon, who’s violet eyes were staring at George as she charged over. George quickly buried himself back into the hole he’d dug out, but Dragon halted where she’d last seen him. She dug into the stone with her thick claws and she snapped at the breaking stone.

“No!” Dream yelped, and kept screaming the word again and again as he aimed his bow again. He expected to see Dragon’s teeth turn red or hear George’s last scream, but nothing of the sort happened, giving him enough focus to aim for Dragon’s eye and fire.

The arrow landed just a little off the eye, but it was close. Close enough to pierce into a soft spot and she pulled her head back with painful scream. Her front claws dug the arrow out her eye, then she looked over to Dream with hatred. Pure, white hot hatred so great Dream thought he could feel it.

Dragon opened her mouth and Dream watched her throat light up with a deep purple, then a ball of fire was headed his way.

Survival took over and Dream jumped from the tower. It wasn’t one of the highest towers, but it was enough of a fall Dream probably wouldn’t get up if he hit the ground. But the ground was very vastly approaching and Dream knew even as he reached in his inventory for his water bucket he wasn’t going to make it in time.

Still he tried, and kept his eyes on the ground, but before he could bring the bucket forward, it was suddenly flooded with water and Dream’s landing only just hurt and not killed him. He splashed in panic, half got on his knees when George’s hand grabbed his arm.

The brunette was frazzled, with his hair a mess and his goggles half hanging off his head. He panted out “I…ender pearled…” to the question Dream thought of but didn’t have the breath to ask.

The water cleared away as George collected it again then he pulled Dream up and they both ran. Because the sound of Dragon was getting closer and closer.

Dream tried to think of a way George and him could build a cover fast enough and dig under until he heard the sound of wings beating. Knowing she was in the air, Dream pulled George in against one of the towers, keeping out of her sight for a second and started rambling.

“We need to hide! Or take her out now! Did you make tunnels underneath?” Dream looked to George.

“Not at this side!” George was looking through his pack quickly. “My picks almost broken. If you…”

There was another roar and Dragon flew around the tower, over the edge of the island. She turned, saw the two and shot off another fireball.

George had tried to run as soon as she turned, but Dream grabbed and pulled him back mere seconds before fireball flew by his face. It exploded on the ground beside the two in a fiery glory. Purple flames spread all over the stone, but then they kept spreading and seeping ever close to them, moving like liquid instead of fire.

It was a curious sight Dream would have loved to investigate further, but there was no time. He pulled George to run around the other side of the tower but somehow in the span of mere seconds, Dragon had fired another fireball to the other side of the tower and the fire flowed towards them in it’s eerie manner.

“Dream!” George screeched and pulled Dream back from the fire’s edge, but there was very little safe space the two could go. Trapped with the violet fire on either side of them, and Dragon was opening her maw again getting another one ready.

Dream pulled out his pick axe, ready to dig as fast as he could below the ground when suddenly everything went dark.

Dream and George were shadowed and crowded against the black towers. Their visions blocked by a flash of green, and suddenly the heat from the fires beside them died down. Dream’s heart simultaneously screamed in relief and leapt up to his throat as he looked up, and saw DreamXD above the two, shielding them with his body. Behind XD there was a huge wall of the yellow stone, making a wall between themselves and Dragon. She made another loud roar but XD’s face was turned to the two beneath him. Even with the mask, Dream could feel the eyes of anger on him.

Dream went to open his mouth, but XD snapped before he could talk. “Move!”

The wall curled around the boy’s left side, creating a small safe pathway around the side of the obsidian tower. XD shoved Dream towards it. “Get to the centre of the island! Run!”

The two followed the God’s orders and quickly slipped through the small gap. Dream worried Dragon would go for them as soon as they escaped, but he looked back over his shoulder and she was now focused onto XD. The wall lowered when Dream and George were safely out of range and she leapt straight for XD, diving into him from the sky.

Dream’s heart lurched into his throat and he stopped himself from running.

“What are you doing?!” George shouted, stopping a bit further ahead. “XD said to run!”

“I can’t leave him!” Dream shouted back. “He’s gonna…”

His words silenced when Dragon appeared again, but this time she was slammed forcefully on her side. She made a loud screech of pain and tried to get up but XD followed her, slamming into her throat and making a long gash from under her jaw to half way down her neck. He would have probably gone more, but one of her front paws smacked XD away before he could and Dragon was left wheezing, trying to pull herself up as purple blood pulsed from her wounds and made her legs weak.

He could kill her. Dream, thought with some semblance of hope. We could kill her.

XD managed to catch himself after he was thrown and landed on his feet. He gave one look to Dragon and when he guessed she wasn’t a threat then he suddenly zipped towards Dream and George. He seemed surprised to stop so suddenly and see they had stopped running.

“I told you to run!” He hissed and grabbed Dream’s arm.

His hand was bigger, his claws longer and his skin was shaking as if trying to hold together. Not just his hand, but his whole body. XD was taller and broader and his body seemed to be fighting with itself, his skin shaking and trembling every once in a while.

XD was shifting, Dream realised. He was shifting into his true form, and he was trying to stop himself. It was a form Dream had only ever seen a handful of times before, and each time was horrifying.

“I… I wanted to help!” Dream forced himself to look back up to XD’s mask. “You hurt her! We can help kill her!”

“No!” XD snapped. “You’re both going home. The centre of the island is a structure. I’m going to open the portal back home there, then you--”

The words ended in the loudest roar of pain Dream had ever heard from his sibling, as Dragon swooped in from XD’s right side and she twisted her head to get her teeth around XD’s body.

She bit down hard enough to draw out blood and make a sickening crunch. The golden liquid leaked through her wide teeth and onto the stone below before she whipped her head and threw XD off. He hit one of the obsidian towers enough to crack in the stone. The blood and purple ooze from within the obsidian mixed as XD’s body fell limp to the ground.

A rush of rage washed over Dream’s body, like he was being hit from a waterfall. Yet despite how suddenly the anger took him, he was surprised at how calmly his body responded. Instead of an outburst of rage like he expected from himself, he moved silently and quickly. One moment on the ground and the next he was leaping onto Dragon’s face, this time his sword stabbing right into her open and unsuspecting eye.

She roared with pain that Dream hoped hurt more than words could convey. He twisted the sword in to draw out another scream, then he was thrown off as she shook her head to dislodge him. She thankfully didn’t throw him far or as hard as she had with XD so Dream skidded to a stop with George already by his side.

He looked up to see George with his bow aimed and when Dragon turned her head to look at them with her good eye, he sent of a fire of three arrows right into them. Two hit and one bounced off a scale on her cheek, but now she was blinded and panickingly thrashing herself about to dislodge the weapons in her eyes.

George pulled Dream up then. Dream’s hands were shaking and he tried to hide it, but George could probably already feel it. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the tower, to see the unmoving form of XD lying there. Instead he focused on Dragon and her thrashing and when her flailing wings and tail were getting a little too close, he pulled George and they ran to the centre of the island.

There was a structure of bedrock in the centre of the island as XD said. It lay in a small dug out spot, only being spotted by the tall bedrock beam in the centre. The base was like the shape of a small fountain but it held no water. The bottom was completely bedrock. The only thing not was the torches around the top of the pillar.

“What now?” George panted.

Dream didn’t know. Dream didn’t want to say he didn’t know. He didn’t want to admit the one plan out of here lay with XD, who was still at the bottom of that obsidian tower. If he did he would have wailed and cried and he couldn’t afford to do that.

Dragon made a half roar half wheezing noise and Dream looked over to see her climbing up one of the obsidian towers with the crystal still there. It’s healing beam shot to her and their time to plan was becoming limited.

But Dream was lost. He didn’t know what to do. All he wanted to do was run to XD’s side and cry how sorry he was. How he should have listened. How he should never have pushed XD away. How he would never do it again. A thousand words he wanted to say and thought about saying so many times but the timing or his pride would never let him.

Dragon’s roars lost their pain and became angrier. She was healing and would be coming for them again. Dream saw George out the corner of his eye ready another arrow and Dream turned his head to him. He opened his mouth, ready to spill out everything he’d ever wanted to say to George when his shoulder was suddenly pulled.

He waited for the pain of Dragon’s fangs but there was no pain. It wasn’t teeth around him, but a hand. A large hand and Dream looked up to see XD stood above him. His right side was completely torn. His cloak was shredded and bloody. His mask had fallen off and XD hadn’t made the wraps on his face for his black voidless half face with many eyes were looking between Dream and George.

Dream wanted to weep but Dragon’s roar stopped him. She had perched on the tower before jumping off and swooping right for them.

“Get…through…” XD’s voice was warbled. His double voice was worst than ever, almost unintelligible but the words to understand were quite easy.

The centre of the bedrock structure was suddenly filled with a greenish void and many stars. It was the exact same pattern on XD’s mask. The same pattern as the portal that took them here.

George wasted no time and climbed down the dip to the portal. He grabbed Dream’s arm to pull him, but Dream didn’t move. “Come on!”

“Go…” XD’s voice hissed. Their jaw wasn’t right. It was partly broken, or shattered and it was trying to reset into a new shape.

Dream let himself be pulled down to the portal, but his eyes were on XD and he was screaming “Come with us!” But XD turned away.

The End God faced the End Dragon swooping down towards him, and as Dream screamed for his brother the world suddenly when black.

It was a whiplash motion of going through adrenaline and fear, mixed with the nauseating feeling of teleportation, for it all to suddenly end in a comfortable soft bed.

Dream panicked as soon as he felt the mattress under him and fell out of the bed. He hit the cold stone of the stronghold and looked around the room. He had been teleported back to the portal room. Back into the bed he slept in the night before, and George was struggling himself out of his own.

“G… George….”

“Dream!”

George was quickly beside him, pulling him up off the ground. His legs were wobbly and he almost fell, but George caught him and sat him on the bed.

“Stay calm. You need to control your breathing…”

“I…” Dream went to say he was breathing just fine, but then he realised that no, he really wasn’t. His chest was tight. His breaths were coming out in short hyperventilations and he couldn’t get in enough air.

“Slow your breathing Dream! You’ll pass out. Please…”

“I…” It felt impossible to breathe, then George’s hand touched onto his chest and it was like tasting air for the first time. His heart slowed and his lungs drew in the longest breath it could. “I-I left him!”

“You didn’t leave him, Dream.” George quickly reassured him. “There was nothing we could do. He saved us.”

“But where is he?!” Dream’s voice almost cried. He could feel his eyes well up with tears. “He’s not here!” George didn’t say anything to that, only putting more worry into Dream and he pushed himself to stand. “We have to go back in!”

“No! Absolutely not!” George stood up with him. “We’ll die!”

“XD will die if he’s in there!” Dream shouted, like it was the most obvious thing. To him it was. “We need to help him! We need to go back in! And we…”

A pop sound filled the air and DreamXD appeared. He was slumped over on the floor, bracing himself on his hands and knees, but he was there, with them.

“XD!” Dream and George both shouted, with a mixture of surprise and elation. Dream had never felt so happy than in that moment and then all of a sudden his happiness turned to dread.

XD pushed himself to stand on shaking legs. One of the arms on his right side wasn’t moving at all and lay limp by his side. He was coated in a mix of his own blood and the dragon’s, but all his attention was on Dream and George. His eyes were glowing with anger, flicking between the two of them before he raised a hand up to his face, waving and materialising his mask to cover him again.

“You!” He growled. “You fucking idiots!”

The two friends had just enough time to look at one another before they were grabbed. XD had both of their arms in his hands, gripped tight enough it was probably leaving a mark.

They were suddenly whisked off. The stronghold and the portal faded out from view and suddenly the three were back on the surface and outside. The air was sweetly familiar of flowers and mushrooms and without seeing Dream knew they were outside George’s cottage.

The hand around George’s arm let go, practically shoving George towards his home, but the hand around Dream’s didn’t.

“Wait…” Dream’s voice was small and George turned to look, realising it too.

His eyes went wide with worry and he looked up to the End God. “Wait XD! What…”

And that’s all they heard as XD whisked off him and his brother again. Dream dreaded he was going to suddenly see the lava wall again. He expected to feel heat and the three walls of obsidian would be encasing him again, but he wasn’t taken to the prison.

He was taken to somewhere completely opposite.

Instead of darkness, it was almost blindly bright. It seemed like a wide, never ending void of white nothingness, stretching on for miles. Dream looked around confused before the details suddenly came into view.

It wasn’t nothingness, it was a like a long, tall grand hallway. The whiteness of the pillars blended into the white void and stretched up too tall the tops of them couldn’t be seen. There were shadows of what looked like figures off in the distance, but Dream’s focus was physically pulled away as XD yanked him forward and the two began walking.

“Wha…Wait! XD!” Dream pulled at his arm, and tried to pull the hand off but XD’s grip was too tight and strong. His brother didn’t even look down at him, just facing forward to the white void ahead and almost dragging Dream along. “Wait! Wh-Where are we?! Where are you taking me?!”

“I’m taking you to someone who will watch you.” XD’s voice came out eerily calm, but Dream could hear the seething tone. ��And then, I’m going to fix your mistake.”

#godsiblingau #covenofwords

27 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!

➺ wordcount; 7.1k

➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

[previously, on smitten...]

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook's bag.

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors

your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)

so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago

...

you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself

how could you be so careless?!

you don't even know how it happened

your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??

on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?

it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings

...but what if he's already read the note?

your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall

c'mon... c'mon...

your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it

the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life

"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"

you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up

you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here

"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"

you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction

"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"

you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at

best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact

worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces

the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it

you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state

"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard

realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind

i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!

"woah, watch it-!"

you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile

"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement

as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-

"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin

you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation

it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!

that... that could work, right?

that's not bad!

just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!

"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"

the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice

thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here

your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall

you slowly lean over a little to peek at him

he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself

jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)

...

you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again

he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...

you could still be safe!

...for now, that is.

"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"

your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you

da-dum

jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...

da-dum

i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

da-dum, da-dum

consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!

dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-

"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did

"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern

"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"

"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"

"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle

"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"

"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"

you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"

"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon

as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up

"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop

"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"

"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you

you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"

"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode

the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper

"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"

"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"

hold on, what did he just say?

you shoot back up

"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"

"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"

it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy

you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today

you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-

"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"

oh, you have got to be kidding me.

your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well

"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."

you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options

you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder

"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."

"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."

ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"

you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her

you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks

you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook

you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...

"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."

"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"

"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"

"ji-eun, you ready?"

"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."

you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices

you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again

"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."

"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"

"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"

"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"

"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."

ooh

is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?

"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."

maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin

you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason

"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"

"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."

"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her

god

she even walks prettily

and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago

you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."

"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."

"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin

you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great

but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?

you were great!

snooty jimin was the one who was being rude

whatever

hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item

maybe you can just stick with taehyung!

he seems to be a lot friendlier

"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"

"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"

"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"

"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"

"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"

"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"

"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."

"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"

"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"

"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"

"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"

he even has the sunset time written down for the date

why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??

"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"

"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"

"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"

"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."

"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."

"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."

"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"

"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"

"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."

you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you

you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,

but then again, this isn't about you, is it?

this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-

oh, damnit.

"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"

the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-

"yes! you're the best!"

"i know."

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown

of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date

and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds

fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun

and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault

"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"

you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over

"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"

"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"

jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list

you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags

obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer

"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"

"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"

"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you

"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"

"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"

"hello!"

"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-

"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"

"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."

"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."

"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."

"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"

"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."

"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"

"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."

you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place

your body was not made to carry heavy things

in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing

you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you

even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch

this place is awfully fancy

you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy

you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store

"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."

you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks

"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"

you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you

you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-

"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"

"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."

"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy

you respect the hustle but this is too much

"where are the teddy bears?"

"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"

"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"

"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"

ouch

"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."

"that's gotta hurt."

"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"

"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."

"oh."

a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-

"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"

"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"

"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"

you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"

"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"

"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"

"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic

"what are you even talking about?"

"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."

"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"

"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."

your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff

the nerve of this guy!

"who do you think you are?!"

"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"

"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"

"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."

"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."

"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"

"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"

a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"

"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"

"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."

"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"

"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."

...

well now he's just toying with you

"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."

"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."

"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"

"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."

we're just friends.

(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)

"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."

you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase

you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy

"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."

🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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joontopia · 3 years

Text

Oncoming Storm | KSJ

pairing: Human!Seokjin x Mermaid!reader

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: fantasy au, strangers to lovers

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 5.6k (WILDLY UNEDITED)

warnings: slight angst, some pining, some mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, sharks, unprotected sex, biting, breast play, fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms, cream pie, subtle mentions of religion

a/n: so here it is! and im so mad at myself because i’m posting it so late. i accidentally took a nap that turned into actual sleep. I changed the plot to this fic so many times, i was happy when i landed on a plot that i liked. please keep in mind that this fic is currently un-beta’d and un-edited. I’m still in the process of moving homes. so once I am done, I will go back and edit this fic. I really hope you enjoy this fic!

part of The Last Splash Collab hosted by @kimtaehyunq Maggie thank you so much for letting me join and putting up my shenanigans in our DMs. I love you!

The storm is close. You can feel it in the air. Sense it in the restless calm that has overtaken the ocean water around you. You know what this means, the whispers in the sea breeze only confirming your suspicions with each passing wind as you swim up to your lover’s boat. It’s time to migrate.

You had a feeling this time was coming soon. The last time a migration happened was two years ago. You remember it quite vividly. It was the very day you met the first friendly human you’ve ever come into contact with. The very handsome Kim Seokjin.

It was at the beginning of the last migration. Your tribe of merpeople had just entered into your new territory, having followed the strong storm current until the flow started to calm. The usual indication that your tribe has reached whatever new home the God of the Sea has called you to. Everything was going fine, the heavy storms had kept the waters clear of any boats to help prevent any humans from witnessing pods of merpeople in the water. It wasn’t until your pod had reached the end of the current tunnel when trouble had struck.

A group of rogue sharks were there to greet your people. Circling and dividing your clan, trying to weed out the weak swimmers from the strong. Many of your people were able to swim away, the warriors of the group fought off the sharks with no major injuries or casualties, managing to make the attackers flee the area. All but one. In the midst of all the chaos, one of the sharks had successfully rounded up two young mermaids who had gotten separated from the pack, circling them as if playing with them. Feeding off the sense of their fear before striking to kill. It wasn’t until you noticed the dark, hungry eyes of the deadly hunter focused on you that you realized what you had done. The blood from the cut on your arm won it’s attention, allowing the two younglings to scurry away to safety.

You hadn’t even noticed you had done it. Instincts kicking in, causing you to grab one of the sharp shells on your necklace. Your body moving quickly on its own to create the mark, knowing the blood hungry beast wouldn’t be able to help itself. You turned the opposite way from where the younglings escaped and swam away as fast as you could, the shark following closely behind you. You looked around you, hoping to find a cave or possibly one of your fellow mer-warriors to help you with your escape. You don’t know how far or how long you swam, dodging each attack the shark attempted on you. You could feel your body growing tired, your tail not able to keep you at the same speed as before. You sense the shift in the water, your attacker positioning himself for another strike. You use the last of your strength to dodge once again, barely evading the shark’s bite as a few of his teeth clip your side. Traces of your blood dissipate into the water as you once again start to swim away, the pain of your new injury destroying the rest of your energy. You start to think you’re finally done for until you’re suddenly dragged up and out of the water. The sudden rush of fresh air invading your lungs as you look around you in a panic, gripping at the netted rope that you found yourself ensnared in.

With night time in its full glory in the sky, you try to use the light of the moon to check your surroundings. It’s not until you feel yourself moving around in the air that your eyes finally see the fishing boat your entrapment is attached to. Panic takes over as the predicament of your situation starts to settle in. In the midst of escaping one of your kinds’ greatest threats, you managed to get yourself caught by the next worst thing. Humans.

You reach for one of the shells on your necklace, yanking it free and trying to make quick work on the ropes holding you captive. You nearly make a hole big enough for you to slip out and back into the water when you feel the net dropping, your body slamming hard on the deck of the boat. You scramble to get yourself free of the net before your captor has a chance to make an appearance. Your tail thrashes around wildly, making you feel like the quite literal fish out of water that you are. You silently pray the thrashing and the sea breeze is enough to quickly dry your scales, allowing your lower body to take on a human form. Your wish goes unanswered, replaced by the grace of the net being freed from around you. You flip to your stomach, adrenaline coursing through you as you try to scoot yourself to the edge of the boat. Your blood pumps so loudly in your ears, deafening you to the heavy footsteps coming up from behind. You’re nearly to the back of the boat when you feel hands clasp your arm, your fight or flight reflex causing you to flip back over, slapping your newest attacker across the face with your tail. Successful knocking them away and on their ass. You go to turn back to make your escape when you hear the voice of your attacker. His choice of words halts you from jumping back into your home.

“Wait! The shark is still there!” He exclaims, pure panic and genuine concern laced in his vocals. You keep your eyes on the water, breathing heavily as you peer into the dark abyss in front of you, trying to see if the shark was still indeed awaiting for your return into it’s hunting ground. Thinking your fate is sealed either way, you consider risking it before once again being interrupted by his voice.

“Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I was trying to help-- Holy hell…” The stranger's words die out as you turn to look at him, his eyes on your body as you follow his gaze down to your dissipating tail. The usual bluish purple of your scales slowly shed from you. The now smooth appendage slowly forms into the shape of human legs, having dried enough to allow the transformation. The remaining scales of your tail cling to your flesh in patches, glinting in the moonlight as you move to curl into yourself and put distance in between you and the strange man before you.

“You’re actually real. Mermaids are actually real,” the man speaks softly, as if to himself. His eyes locked on the fallen scales scattered across the floor. You take in a few deep breaths, watching him carefully as you build up the courage to speak.

“Please…” you gasp. The man’s eyes flicking up to yours, his features softening as he notices the fear in your eyes. “Please just let me go.”

The man scans your body quickly one last time, shock taking over his gaze as he scrambles to his feet, removing the weather jacket from around his shoulders and approaches you slowly. You flinch in fear, the man halting and holding his hands up as he takes a small step back.

“No, no. It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Please, just take this. I don’t want you to get cold.” He slowly hands the jacket in your direction. You eye it carefully before looking back up at his face, trying to find any trace of deceit in his demeanor. You find nothing but softness, allowing yourself to accept his offer, taking the jacket from his hands and wrapping it around you.

“Thank you,” you mutter, clutching the jacket closer to you as you continue to watch your unexpected savior.

“Here, let me help. We should get your wounds patched up,” He says to you as he slowly approaches you again, his hand still held out towards you. This time looking to help you to your feet. You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to pull you upright. You let go of him prematurely, not anticipating how shaky your lower body would be. You try to take a step forward, following him to a nearby bench only for your newly formed legs to give way causing you to start to fall forward and straight into the man’s arms. “Woah, easy there. Hold on tight, okay?”

You nod your head meekly, blushing as you hold on to his arm as he walks you to the bench and sits you down. Your hand slides down his arm as you let him go, allowing you to feel the firmness of his muscles as he pulls away. He kneels down beside you, opening a small door under the bench and pulls out a small red case. You watch him as he moves, eyes falling on to the wide expanse of his shoulders as he opens up the case, pulling out various bandages and ointments. He looks back up at you and you quickly look away. Your blush deepening from being caught staring at him. You notice his smirk out of the corner of your eye as he holds out his hand, gesturing towards the injuries on your side. “May I?” he asks you, the gentleness in his tone chipping away at your resolve. You nod once again, moving the jacket just enough to expose your injuries to the man.

He quickly goes to work, silence falling between the two of you as he starts cleaning your wounds. You watch him as he works, admiring the determination in his eyes. You observe his face, tracing the slight dip of his nose and observing the pink plushness of his lips. Finding it cute how he has them slightly parted as he focuses on your scratches. As if he feels you watching him, his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze for only a second before looking back down at his current task and clearing his throat.

“So what's your uh… Or do you have a name? What can I call you?” He asks you, a blush creeping up on his face as he starts to feel self conscious over his question.

You giggle at the cuteness, knowing this has to be a new social experience for the two of you. This being the first time you’ve ever interacted so closely with a human and, considering his reaction earlier, this would be his first interaction with someone of your kind as well. You clear your throat as well, hoping your shyness has subsided enough for you to be able to speak clearly.

“I do. It’s Y/N. Thank you for saving me. I would have never expected this type of kindness from a human.” You smile down at him as he chuckles at your words. He places the last of the bandages on your wounds, packing up the small case and placing it back in its spot beneath the bench.

He looks up at you, blessing you with a breathtaking smile that knocks the air from your lungs. The sight of the simple gesture melting away the rest of the protective guard you held up and seeping straight into your heart, wanting nothing more than to stay this close to him. You feel the warmth radiating from his hand that’s resting on your exposed knee, finding comfort in the closeness from this complete stranger. You don’t notice how out of tune with reality you become until you see his lips start to move, the honey sweet baritone of his voice bringing you back to the moment. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Seokjin.”

He let you stay on the boat that night, allowing you to take the bed as he slept up on the couch in the cabin. Giving you somewhere safe to stay as you waited for morning, in hopes that it will allow you a safe return into the ocean to reunite with your tribe. You had thought you would never see him again, but fate had a different plan. It was only two short weeks later that you found yourself venturing upon his boat. You had stayed a safe distance away, wondering just how many boats with purple stripes down the side existed on this side of the water. It wasn’t until you saw the enscripted boat name “Epiphany” on the side shortly before the handsome, wide shouldered captain made his appearance. The moment he noticed you approach his vessel, he gave you the warmest smile, helping you onboard and offering you a blanket to cover your transforming body.

Since that day, the both of you made these little visits a weekly tradition. Spending the whole day learning about each other, swapping stories about each other's worlds. Growing closer and more intimate in your interactions the more time you spend with each other. The hellos and goodbyes were combined with hugs. Casual conversations were enhanced by subtle touches and soft grazes of each other's skin. Then one night during a full moon, the first of which you two were able to enjoy together, Seokjin found the courage to pull you close, asking you if it was okay to give you a kiss.

You remember being taken back by the softness of his plush lips, how your body melted into his from the tenderness of his touch. It wasn’t long before you began staying the night with Seokjin, sharing his bed while exploring each other’s bodies. You had never been touched by a man before. Had expressed that concern with him only to be comforted with the knowledge that he wouldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t want.

You smile at the memory of your shared nights together, not realizing you had made it to the Epiphany until you hear Seokjin’s voice cutting into your thoughts.

“Arms too tired to pull yourself up?” He teases you as he looks over the side of the boat, smiling as he watches you wading in the water.

You stick your tongue out, mocking his laughter as he reaches for you, helping you onto the deck. “ Ha ha. You’re quite the comedian, Jinnie,” you tease back, savoring each sound of his addictive laugh as it rings through your ears. Oh, how you’re going to miss that laugh.

The reminder of the oncoming storm brings your mood back down. The sudden shift in your demeanor doesn’t slip past Seokjin. His brows furrow in concern as he watches you, handing you the towel and one of his t-shirts he had waiting for you. You start to pat your scales dry, refusing to look at him as you’re not quite ready to break the news. Much to your dismay, Seokjin was not on the same page as you.

“What’s wrong, love?” His voice addresses you softly. His genuine concern for you wraps you in a warm embrace, causing unwanted tears to begin to pool at your waterline. You still don’t look up at him. Your gaze trained on your shedding scales as you dry off your upper body before pulling his t-shirt over you. As the fabric passes your nostrils, you breathe in deeply, taking in every note of his scent and committing it to your memory. Your heart begins to ache with every breath you take. You finally look up at him once your legs finish transitioning, standing from your spot on the deck. He reaches out to help steady you, a reaction you know he did without even thinking. The ache in your heart deepens as you grab onto his forearms to balance.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to say. “I have to leave, Jin.”

His features contort in confusion, his hands still on your waist as he questions your words. “So soon? But you just got here,” he responds, the gravity of your statement completely lost on him.

“No,” you say as you shake your head. Tears threaten to spill over as your voice begins to shake. “I have to leave. The storm, Jin. It’s coming.”

Jin continues to look at you in confusion. It takes a full minute before he realizes what you mean, his eyes growing wide with panic indicating to you that he’s caught on.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “It could be just a terrible storm. Just like before.”

The hopefulness in his voice nearly breaks you. You wished he was right. Wished this was just a false alarm. It was almost a year ago from this day when you thought the storm for the migration was starting. There were only small indicators that the brewing weather was going to be it, but enough indicators that had you convinced it was going to happen. It was also the first night you gave yourself completely to Seokjin, wanting your last night with him to be a memorable one. When you had learned in the following days that the threatening storm had passed, you were ecstatic, wasting no time to race back to Seokjin and into your rightful place beside him. You spent every night with him in his arms ever since. But now the omens of what's to come are back again. And this time they are very much real.

You shake your head at him once again, stepping into him and leaning your head onto his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly as if you were going to disappear right there. “I’m sure of it, Jinnie. The tribe’s elders confirmed it this morning. The storm will be here in three days.”

Silence grows between you two as you stand there holding each other. You have no idea what to say at this moment. No idea what either of you could say, but you just want to hear his voice. Just want to hear it as much as possible before your inevitable departure. As you fail to search for something to say, you feel the vibrations in his chest from him starting to talk and you're grateful that it’s only one of you that's at a loss of words. It’s not until you hear what he asks that you wish the two of you sat in silence just a little longer.

“What if you don’t leave? You can stay with me. Live by the shore, somewhere remote where you’ll be safe.”

Your tears begin to fall freely as you pull away from him. His arms only loosen around you slightly, giving you just enough space to lean back and look up at him. “Bad things happen to mermaids who get separated from their pack. The loneliness will eat away my soul, changing me into something dangerous. I would no longer be myself.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Jin states confidently, looking down at you with determination in his eyes. Your tears fall faster as you shake your head again.

“It’s too dangerous, Jin. The storm will kill you. The Gods created this specifically to keep us safe as we travel in masses.”

Jin closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he leans his forehead against yours. His breathing becomes ragged as he continues to hold you closely. “Then stay with me until you need to leave. Only if you can,” he whispers to you, the slight tremble in his tone crushing your heart.

“I can do that,” you respond, leaning up on tiptoes as you place a soft kiss on his plush lips.

The two of you spend the rest of your day talking, Jin asking every possible question he can think of, trying to find a way to decipher where this storm may take you. You answer him the best you can with the limited information that you have. Tribal Elders have tried their best to determine a pattern in the way your new homes were chosen, but never find anything concrete. It is a decision truly left up to the Gods.

As night falls upon you, you feel the exhaustion come over you. Slowly leading Seokjin to the bed, you curl up into him the moment you both settle onto the mattress, clinging on to him with all your might. Not wanting to part from him until you absolutely have to. He places soft kisses on your head as he holds you just as close, humming to you in his sweet voice as he starts to rock the two of you to sleep.

Not wanting to sleep just yet, you readjust yourself slightly, allowing yourself enough space to move closer to Jin’s lips, kissing them as soon as you reach them. He kisses you back and you waste no time to deepen the connection, licking his bottom lip with your tongue as a wordless request to enter. He reciprocates, the both of you parting your lips, your appendages dancing around each other in a fiery passion.

You run your hand down his bare body, slowly making your way to the hem of his pants. Seokjin stops you, grabbing your hand into his own.

“We don’t have to do this,” Jin whispers to you, trailing kisses along your face. “Being here with you is enough.”

“I want to, Jin. Please, make love to me.” Your voice shakes in your response, your lips trembling from the sob building in your chest. Jin stops it with his own lips, capturing yours into another deep kiss.

Releasing your hand, Jin helps you undress himself before pulling your lone shirt from over your body. He lays you back against the bed, placing more soft kisses across your face before trailing his lips down your body. He stops at your breast, taking a moment to circle your pert nipples with his tongue. He gives each a small suck, the sensation causing you to arch your back, shoving your breast further into his face. Before releasing the last bud, Jin gives it a soft nibble, chuckling at the light gasp that escapes from you before continuing to lower himself down your body.

As he makes it to your core, he places your legs on his shoulders, rubbing your thighs as he looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you, my love. I’ll make sure you never forget tonight,” he coos at you as he places two fingers on your lips, forming a V with them to spread you apart. You feel him lick a strip right up your center. A delicious shiver crawls up your spine at the satisfying feeling. He gives you another lick, making a point to flick his tongue against your clit once he reaches the top. You feel your arousal leaking from your heat as Jin repeats his movements. You let out a groan with each stroke, your legs beginning to shake on top of his shoulders from the subtle teasing.

You feel him gather your wetness on two fingers, slowly slipping both inside of you at once. You arch your back again at the pressure, trying your best not to squirm with each pump of his hands. Jin holds you down by the waist with his other hand to keep you in place as he picks up his speed, scissoring his fingers every few pumps to spread you apart. The moment you feel your walls begin to quiver, the pressure against them growing from the third finger Seokjin adds into your hole. He begins to move even faster, adding a curl to his fingers with each passing stroke. It’s not long before you feel a knot form inside of you, your toes curling at pleasure coursing through your body. You quickly feel yourself approaching the edge of your orgasm, the growing volume of your moans giving Jin a good indication of how close you really are. You think you hit a stall in your pleasure when Jin surprises you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. It’s not until he gives your swollen nub a quick flick with his tongue that the knot releases, your body shaking as you cum around his fingers.

Jin continues to finger you through your orgasm, slowing his speed as he helps ease you down. The euphoric feeling takes over your body, too busy riding the high to notice Jin removing himself from your core. You’re barely down from your high when you feel Seokjin hover above you, slowly lining himself up to your pulsing entrance. He rubs the head of his cock around your slick hole, gathering us as much of your juices as he watches you, waiting to see if you’re okay with what’s to come next.

“Do you want to keep going, my love?” he asks you so sweetly. The tenderness in his tone sings to your heart, the need for him growing with each passing moment.

“Yes, Jinnie. Please. Need you,” You whimper as you slowly push down onto him, your body begging to feel him where you want him the most.

“I’m all yours, darling,” he assures you, pushing into you at the same time.

You both groan in unison at the sensation. Jin slowly pumps in and out of you, sinking into you deeper with each motion as he patiently waits for your walls to adjust to him. As he buries himself inside of you, he watches your face for any signs of pain only to be met with your features contorting in pleasure. He pauses his movements, waiting for you to give him a sign that you're ready to continue. You try to answer him by grinding down your hips, only resorting to a verbal response once you notice he didn’t pick up on the action.

“Move, Jinnie. Please,” you whine as you wrap your hands around his shoulders, bringing him into you for a kiss. Jin starts his pace off slow, matching it with the speed of your shared kiss. Your walls continue to pulse around him with each slow drag, the tip of his length hitting that small bundle of nerves deep inside of you every time he buries himself to the hilt. You shamelessly whine for more, Jin wasting no time to answer the call. He speeds up his pace, pumping inside of you relentlessly. The familiar knot grows inside you quickly once again as each thrust pushes you closer to another release. You can sense Jin’s release coming closer as well by the way his thrusts become shorter and sloppier. He breaks your lips apart, leaning his forehead against yours as you both pant in pleasure.

“Cum with me, darling,” he groans as he moves one of his hands in between your bodies, placing his thumb on your swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. The added sensation is enough to send you back over the edge, your walls clamping down on Jin’s shaft with each pulse of your release as you call out his name. His own release overcomes him as he slams inside of you, filling you with his warm seed as he joins you, groaning out your name. He braces his arms beside your head, trying his best to keep himself from crushing you under his body weight, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss.

The next two days were spent exactly like this. The two of you never leaving the safety of the cabin, pretending like the outside world no longer existed. It was just the two of you in this bed, sharing the love you have for each other in every way possible.

By the dawn of the third day, the slight rocking of the boat from the restless waves wakes you, warning you that the migrating storm has begun. Jin stirs beside you, feeling your movements as you start to climb out of the bed. He sits up next to you, grabbing your arm before you are able to fully climb off the mattress and pulls you into him, hugging you to his body as he whispers into your ear, “Please, not yet. Just give me a few more minutes.”

You don’t argue or try to move. Knowing good and well you’d regret not taking these last few minutes when you have the chance. You hold each other in silence for just a few more minutes before Jin cups your chin gently, angling your face to kiss you deeply. You return it, the two of you pouring every once of love you have for each other into the kiss. After another moment, you force yourself to pull away, standing from the bed as you face the man before you. The boat now rocking more heavily as the winds begin to pick up.

“You have to leave now, Jin. You’re running out of time before it becomes unsafe.”

He slowly nods his head as he begins to move, quickly dressing himself as soon as he gets up from the bed. You reach out your hand, watching as he takes it willingly, interlocking your fingers together as he starts to pull you towards the stairs leading to the deck. You walk in silence to the back of the boat, not finding the courage to release his hand, silently wishing to the Gods that you didn't have to leave.

You turn to him, looking up at him as he smiles sadly down at you. “Please don’t forget me,” you whisper softly, tears once again falling down your cheeks.

Jin reaches up with his free hand, wiping away the droplets as his own tears begin to streak his face. “I’ll never forget you. We’ll see each other again. This is not how we end.”

The confidence in his tone stabs at your heart. Filling you with a hopefulness that you know will only crush you in the end. “How are you so sure?” you croak as your tears fall harder. “The world is big, and I have no idea where I’ll go and when.”

“The sea brought us together before, it will help us find each other again.” Jin leans down to kiss you one last time, as if to seal his uncertain promise. After a moment, he backs away, releasing your held hands at the same time. “Now go, before it's too late. I will find you. I promise. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Seokjin.”

You give each other one last look before you turn around. You take a deep breath before diving into the water, the scales of your tail forming quickly from the moisture. You swim yourself a ways towards the direction of your tribe, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the man you love before resurfacing. Fearing that your resolve would not be strong enough to keep you from returning back to him. Once you feel like you made it far enough, you swim towards the surface, turning around immediately as you break out of the water. Your heart rips into tiny pieces as you watch the image of the Epiphany disappearing into the distance.

It’s been five months now in your new home. The beauty of the ocean and surrounding islands are just as captivating as all your previous homes, but something is keeping you from being able to enjoy your new slice of paradise. Something that you miss dearly every single day since you migrated. You feel the need to clear your mind, no longer wanting to dwell in your own sadness. You venture out into your new territory, swimming out further than you have before. You’re not sure why you do it, wandering this far out from the safety of your tribe being a completely reckless choice to make. Your only reasoning being that you’re just allowing the sea to take you wear you need to go, trusting in the Water Gods to keep you safe as you free float along the surface of the water. You happen upon a small island cove, hiding behind the tall rocks protruding from the water to provide you shelter from the heat of the sun. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the ambience of the ocean as the subtle song of waves breaking starts to lull you into a dream.

Your mind wanders to your lost love, your heart aching for him as you imagine what he could be doing at this very moment. You picture him on his boat, leaning over the edge with a fishing pole in hand. The image in your mind being drawn from pieces of your memories. The vision feels so real, so detailed in your mind, you feel like you can practically hear the soft rumble of his boat engines.

Suddenly, you feel a displaced vibration in the water, the very rumbles you were just imagining now sounding a lot louder and much closer than your distant memory. You lean up from your free float, looking around you for whatever may be causing the disruption to your day dreaming. Peering out into the horizon, you faintly see a small vessel approach you. You quickly duck behind the nearest rock, hoping whoever is approaching hasn’t noticed you. You start to slowly sink under the surface, preparing yourself to make your escape when a sudden pull in your heart begs you to stop.

You peer out from your cover, watching the small boat carefully as it moves closer. The boat turns ever so slightly, allowing the purple stripes along the side to become visible. Your eyes grow large, a wide smile spreading across your face as you jump from around the secrecy of the rock and swim closer to the approaching vessel, the silhouette of it’s wide shouldered captain becoming more visible with each passing stroke.

#bangtaninn #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #bts smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfic

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professorspork · 3 years

Note

superhell fic prompt: RB+J reunite with Yang

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Let no one ever doubt that Yang can be a champion whiner when she wants to be.

She was on her best behavior before, listening intently as Weiss caught her up on just how badly the fight with Cinder went, and brainstorming up next steps (get to the Tree; send up a flare with Ember Celica because if there were Grimm they needed to worry about, they would have run into some by now; wait). Only there wasn’t much to talk about after that that wasn’t wildly depressing, and they’d fallen into an uneasy silence-- Yang watching Weiss hunch tighter and tighter in on herself with every step.

So she’d filled the quiet: complaining about how they’d be there by now if only she still had Bumblebee; bitching about how unfair it is that they can’t seem to get their Semblances to work; grumbling over how she has no idea how long they’ve been walking because the light never seems to change here. And Weiss snaps back, of course, but Yang can tell the annoyance is feigned-- the more irritated Weiss’s answers are, the more relaxed her body language becomes. Normalcy’s thin on the ground, here; Yang will provide it anywhere she can.

Except--

-- except also something on the ground here, it seems--

-- is Gambol Shroud.

“Oh,” Yang breathes, in a tone of voice she’s not entirely sure she’s ever produced before. Weiss runs ahead and drops to her knees, but hesitates when she goes to scoop up the weapon-- her hand hovering over it, shaking.

“I-- sorry. It’s not my-- you should--”

“You should give it back to her,” Yang says, keeping her distance and a soft smile on her face.

Weiss looks up at her with wide eyes. “But you--”

“--didn’t have to see her fall. You did. And you-- you did really good, Weiss. You should give it back to her.” It seems a small concession to make, in the grand scheme of things. She’s going to have plenty of Blake, and soon. She knows it-- she’s sure of that down to her bones, now. So what is there to be possessive of? She waits until Weiss nods, and slips the katana through one of her scabbard loops. It’s not exactly meant to be carried that way, but whatever. It looks pretty badass. “C’mon,” she says, helping Weiss to her feet. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

Weiss roasts her mercilessly when it’s a good age and a half of walking before they even hit the tree’s roots (“Oh, are we close, Yang? Can you feel it?”), but they don’t come across any other surprises. When the roots start to twist and rise above them, Yang clambers up to a decent plateau and sets off two charges-- shooting them high into the air and watching them explode like fireworks. Yang smirks, tucking her arms behind her head as she prepares to settle in and wait--

-- and promptly slips and falls out of the tree when a trio of familiar voices happily cry “Yang?!” only seconds after the flare’s report.

(It’s not her fault, okay? She wasn’t expecting them to be this close, or together; wasn’t expecting Jaune to be down here at all; it’s whatever--)

By the time she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, Ruby, Jaune and Blake have come into view, just across the clearing.

“Ruby!” Weiss cries, sprinting towards them, and that’s-- she’s Yang’s sister, she should get dibs on first hug, what gives, only then Weiss actually throws a thumbs up behind her as she runs and that’s just-- that’s just rude, honestly, as if--

“Yang,” Blake says, close enough to touch, and when did that happen?

“Blake, I--”

She has no idea how that sentence was supposed to end. Luckily, Blake relieves her of the burden, busying her mouth and bringing her thoughts to a grinding halt by pulling her into a swift, determined kiss. Yang’s struck so dumb by the shock of it that for a moment she forgets to kiss back-- hands hanging limply at her sides as she tries to process the intent pressure of Blake’s lips against hers; the swell of body heat where they’re pressed together, chest to chest; the tender way Blake cradles her jaw, all fingertips, the way you touch something precious and fragile. Every muscle in Yang’s body relaxes in an instant-- at last, finally, thank you-- and a needy, wanting noise tears itself from her throat, entirely without her volition.

It’s possible she goes a bit overboard when she finally gets control of her limbs again, wrapping her arms around Blake’s sides and dipping her into the kind of kiss she’s only seen on the covers of Blake’s novels, but it’s hard to care about how it looks-- not when Blake’s laughing into her mouth, and Ruby’s wolf-whistling (Yang releases her hold on Blake for that, briefly, only because she has to prioritize flipping Ruby the bird) and has she mentioned that she’s kissing Blake Belladonna?

She’s kissing Blake Belladonna.

She might never stop kissing Blake Belladonna.

Or, okay, maybe she will; her back kind of hurts holding this weird position so long. But when she pulls Blake back to standing, she suddenly registers wetness on her own cheeks, and she wouldn’t be surprised she’s crying only she’s-- she’s really pretty sure she’s not, so that means--

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, reaching up to brush the tears from Blake’s lashes. “If you cry I’m gonna cry, and--”

“I love you,” Blake breathes, and the words lay Yang out faster than any punch, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. The look on Blake’s face is beatific-- elated and adoring and thrilled. Like she’s proud of herself for being brave enough to say it; like she wasn’t sure she was going to know how. Only then the tears well up again; her voice hitches as she stutters: “I promised; I couldn’t get to you in time, you can’t-- I’ll follow you anywhere, I promised, I swear it, but you have to let me, I thought I lost you--”

This time it’s Yang’s turn to quiet Blake with a kiss, and she lets herself savor it. She clocks every sensation, every touch, every sigh, every brush of their lips. This isn’t about utility, or merely silencing Blake’s fears. It’s reassurance, and devotion, and a promise all its own: we’re okay. We can have this, now.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, determined to find words that will mean as much as Blake’s just did, to make it clear just how much she feels--

-- only it’s a little hard to concentrate over how loudly Weiss is crying, a few yards away where Ruby and Jaune have her sandwiched between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to-- I just-- you did promise, all of you, you said you’d never leave my side and I was-- I was alone, I was the only one left, and I--”

Yang takes Blake’s hand, gratified when she gets an understanding squeeze and a nod in return-- to be continued. Whatever confessions of love Yang’s got scratching at the walls of her insides, they can wait a little longer; right now, they need to be with their team.

Together, they join the group huddle, saying nothing as collectively they abandon any attempts at soothing words and instead finally let themselves fall apart. Ruby all but crawls into Yang’s lap, and a thread of tension deep within Yang finally, finally relaxes, knowing that her sister is safe. Jaune cries loudest and hardest of all, and Yang buries a hand in his hair, wishing she could make it better. She knows what it feels like, to stab down and feel the life leave someone’s body, but that was-- she’d hated Adam. To have to do it to an ally, a friend, to have that responsibility on you, for someone you love--

--kill me, and I can make sure the power goes to you--

-- she shakes off the stubborn image of Raven’s scarlet eyes filling her vision and focuses on the people in her arms.

“Not to be super morbid, but maybe...” She pauses and chews on her words, wanting to make sure she says what she means to. “We might be a little past promises, now. All of us. I don’t know where we go from here, and the choices are only going to get harder. But-- we’ve always found our way back to each other before. Even here, and-- and I don’t even really know where here is. So maybe we can just... trust that. See where it takes us.”

She doesn’t realize she’s closed her eyes in a wince, unsure of how she’ll be received, until she cautiously squints them open again and sees half her universe staring back at her with nothing but love.

“I think that sounds good,” Blake says,

but her eyes say so much more.

#rwby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #blake and yang #bumbleby #weiss schnee #fic what i wrote #Anonymous

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

Faking To Pretend (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: cathy cathy cathy here i am with another request *sigh* i cant help myself your writing is just too good

i was wondering if i might request a steve rogers x reader fic where maybe reader and steve are paired up for a mission and have to pretend to be married (undercover) and some thing happen to kind of force them to admit their feelings for each other (maybe one of them gets injured? or kidnapped idk you do what you want to 😂) anyways LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️ (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Fake engagements, wedding plans & an undercover mission that jeopardized your well-being in the blink of an eye. Throughout it all, you somehow had to hide the fact that your feelings for Steve were just friendly, nothing more.

Words: 8,610

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, humor, argument, brief mentions of drugs, undercover mission (engagement & wedding plans), female pronouns used, that's pretty much it

[Mimi…this happens when our ideas get mixed up. LOVE YOU TOO!]

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The familiar sound of a notification emanated from your phone. You deposited the book you had been immersed in onto the mattress & replaced it with the device. It confused you for a second when you noticed Tony being the one to message you. After all, you were literally in the same building.

Stark: meeting in 5.

(Y/N): you do know that you could tell me in person, right? just knock or something.

Stark: you’re too far away.

(Y/N): two doors, stark. TWO!

Stark: meeting in 4.

(Y/N): i hate you.

A loud sigh escaped through your lips. Typical Tony. Two could play that game. You planned on arriving right in time, not earlier. Maybe a few seconds too late. Anything to mess with him. At least he could get a taste of his own medicine that way.

“You’re a minute late.” Tony commented when he watched you walk inside the room. Your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

“You’re lucky I came in the first place.” you remarked. “Besides, I’m the first one here. Mission alone?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows while expectantly waiting for his answer. It was not usual for you to go alone. Except if the mission concerned grabbing pizza from the place down the block. You hoped for him that he did not pull that card, though.

“No but I wanted to discuss it with you before the others- oh, never mind.” Tony stopped talking when three more figures entered the room, brushing past your frame without paying too much attention to you. Sam. Bucky. Steve. What a damn combination. That was your team? Well, good luck. Everyone got seated on the chairs circling the big table but you stood your ground in the doorway. Steve patted the free chair next to his side, eyes flickering up to yours. A silent invitation you politely declined by shaking your head but you made sure that he could detect your small smile. Tony did not seem to mind & went straight ahead into explaining the mission you four had to perform. Most of the time, you zoned off though you really did try your hardest to stay focused. But when you glanced between the men in the room, you already knew the chaos that would come with them.

Basically, the team came across a signal emitting from the back of a small shop. From what you knew so far, it was some sort of a database that saved a whole lot of criminals. Some of them who you had fought in the past & some of them who you had never heard of but they sounded incredibly dangerous nevertheless.

“Question.” one of your hands raised & you waited for them to look at you.

“Go for it.” Tony pointed over to you, letting out a low breath because you were behaving as if you were in class & needed permission before speaking up.

“Why do Steve & I have to be the ones engaged?” normally, you would not care about undercover missions. But when said mission had you teamed up & fake-engaged to Steve? Well, you had a hard time separating work from personal feelings. Not that anything was going on between you guys but you would not lie if you said that you wanted to change it.

“What, do you want Sam & Bucky to be the couple in question?” Stark, in return, asked another question & you rolled your eyes.

“No, of course not.” that earned you disagreements from both, Sam & Bucky. Steve simply sat by, chuckling quietly while observing your conversation quietly.

“And Steve & you are close. It’ll be easier for you guys to pretend.” Tony casually stated & you had to fight the urge to avert your gaze. If you did, they sure as hell would realize something being wrong with you. And you were not about to be embarrassed in front of them. Maybe you already were but at least they did not know about it. After all, you were a fucking great actor.

“Uh-huh.” so you played it cool. As cool as the situation allowed you to be. “But why do we need Laurel & Hardy with us then?”

“Because I said so.” Tony used your most hated phrase & he damn well knew it. After a short pause, he turned a bit more serious again. “They’ll be Steve’s best men.”

“Wait.” your hand raised & you closed your eyes for a second. “Steve has two best men & I’m not allowed a maid of honor?” now everyone inside the meeting room was chuckling. Everyone but you.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Stark shrugged, brushing it off as nothing though he was aware that you were annoyed by his plan already.

“How is that fair?” you could not stop asking questions, somehow hoping that if you continued, you could get out of this successfully. Deep down, it was clear that the mission had been planned & you could not do anything to change it. Not even a single thing.

“It isn’t.” Tony admitted with a brief nod of his head. “But you’ll need Sam & Bucky on this one. So stop bitching around.”

“These are gonna be some long ass days…” you mumbled, putting your face in your hands in frustration.

“Enjoy!” & with that, Tony dismissed you, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

Sam & Bucky exited the room soon after. Steve & you were the only ones left.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Immediately, the frown was replaced by a genuine grin. You found yourself in this state whenever he looked at you like that. Whenever he talked to you, actually. “Everything okay?” his eyes showed concern. They usually did when he noticed you zoning off.

“Huh?” you asked before the words had processed. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“I’m sorry about.” his hands gestured wildly, searching for the most suitable words. “The mission being uncomfortable for you.”

“No, it’s not uncomfortable.” you tried to explain yourself. “Just, sometimes I feel like Stark just wants to mess with me.”

“Well, if it helps cheering you up…I’ll behave.” he winked at you playfully & you hated how your body reacted to such simple movements.

“I’m sure you will.” you snickered. “My true worries are your best men.” a sly smirk spread onto your face & Steve could not hold back a chuckle.

“Yeah, I can’t control them.” he agreed with you. “I’ll see you around.” he walked past you, turning around one last time. You simply nodded at him, not trusting your own voice. While you handled the situation as best as you could, you wanted to avoid an awkward goodbye. Besides, you would set out first thing in the morning. You needed some alone time before shit started going down. Not that you expected this mission to fail. The exact opposite, actually. The four of you worked incredibly well together. Compensating other’s mistakes & improvising fast if needed. Mostly, though, you ended up straying from the actual plan & that was what had you worried. Because if you did not stick to it, things could turn real uncomfortable real quick.

As if the mission itself was not demanding enough, the car ride to even arrive at your destination was ten times worse. Steve was behind the wheel & you were lucky that you occupied the passenger’s seat & did not have to sit in the back with either Sam or Bucky. They were children, really. Right now, it felt like Steve & you were the parents of two incredibly challenging kids who could not shut their mouths. Not even for a second. Steve succeeded with ignoring them & he was concentrating on the road so that gave him another thing to do. You, on the other hand, were stuck without any distractions except for the bickering that was currently going on in the backseat. But you knew better than to interrupt them because if you did, it would only turn worse. So you took a few deep breaths & settled further into your seat, closing your eyes to maybe rest a bit before your arrival. What you did not notice was Steve glancing over to your figure, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recognized you attempting to sleep during the stress inside the car.

At least the hotel Tony checked you in was worth it. Fake-engagements had their perks. Especially if a luxurious suite was a part of it. Sam & Bucky were somewhere in another room but Steve & you, the two of you pretty much occupied an entire floor. That was how huge your room was. You did not even have to carry your own suitcases. There was an employee who helped you with that. What a nice way of living that was. If only you were not pretending. But why were you even thinking that way? You had a mission to perform & more importantly, you could not fail. And you would not if you solely focused on your task. It could not be that hard, right? You had done something similar multiple times before. It should be an easy one for you. But it was not. And the main reason was Steve. It was wrong of you to put the blame on him but how could you not if you literally had to pretend to be his fiancée? It felt like a secret wish you did not dare to voice. And yet he was here right in front of you, in the same room. A place you were supposed to share for the next few days. And you somehow had to play it cool. There was only one outcome. Burying your feelings deep down in order to not jeopardize the mission or your team. No matter how much your heart protested.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Steve’s voice as you were stepping out of the shower. Only a towel was covering your still wet body but you feared that, if you did not open the door right away, you were in danger somehow. That was your mind’s conclusion. Which really did not make any sense if you gave it a second thought. You opened the door a crack, risking a glance outside & eased when you only saw Steve on the other end. It was a natural reaction for you to push the door open wider. But you kind of forgot that you were not wearing any clothes except for that poor excuse of a hotel towel which was way too small for your liking. Steve’s eyes widened & he could not stop from letting them flicker up & down your body. You squirmed under his stare, arms coming to cross over your chest in order to keep the fabric in place. A few moments of awkward silence ticked by & you wanted it to end. So you coughed & gained his attention once more. His eyes were locking with yours & while you usually lost yourself in them, you were way more comfortable than having him eyeing your every part in great detail.

“You needed anything?” you stuttered out, hoping your voice did not sound all too weak but even to yourself, you were aware that you were failing.

“Um, yeah…” his cheeks turned rosy. One of his hands came up to scratch the back of his neck. “But I probably should’ve waited a couple minutes longer.” he should have but it was too late now anyway.

“If it’s nothing too important then I’ll go get dressed real quick, alright? I’ll take like two minutes.” you attempted an honest smile but it was underlined with a hint of embarrassment that was definitely detectable. Steve simply nodded, stepping back a bit so you could close the door once more. Your back rested against the wooden surface & you quietly sighed out with closed eyes. That was not what you expected. Fingers crossed nothing between you two would turn awkward from now on. But then again, he was your best friend & it was not like you were completely naked. Just barely dressed but covered enough so he did not see anything. You would be just fine.

With a decent outfit & regained confidence, you exited the bathroom & found Steve sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands where he shifted a small package between his fingers. His head snapped up when he heard your footsteps. You two exchanged a smile & it was then when you knew that your shamefaced encounter would not change the bond you shared. It was as if everything was the same old. And it was probably for the better.

“Was that why you needed something from me?” you gestured to the little box & Steve was brought back to reality. Right, there was a reason why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.

“Tony gave it to me right before we left.” he stood up & approached you with long steps. “Said it’d be more believable if you wore one.” Steve stretched out his hand so you could take the black package from him. With curious eyes & delicate fingers, you took it from him. Your eyebrows raised as your eyes met his but he only shrugged at you without giving you an actual explanation. Carefully, you uncapped the box & were shocked when you noticed the small, sparkling ring inside. The colors of the rainbow reflected in the diamond adorning the silver jewelry. It looked way too expensive for it to be a fake one.

“Tony wants me to wear an engagement ring?” you asked even though it was more than obvious. Maybe you just needed reassurance.

“Makes it more believable.” Steve repeated.

“It probably cost more than what I’ll earn in a lifetime.” you chuckled & closed the lid again.

“So you’re not gonna wear it?” he questioned cautiously. For a flicker, he turned insecure because maybe the reason why you refused to wear it was because you did not want people to believe he was your fiancé.

“Of course I’m gonna wear it! It’s stunning. Just…” you paused briefly & bit your bottom lip to contemplate your next words. “It’s expensive. I can’t risk losing it. I’ll put it on whenever we’re outta this room, though. I won’t be the one blowing our cover.” you assured & laughed because you were indirectly blaming Sam or Bucky to mess up. Steve silently agreed with you but did not say anything else as you situated the ring on the nightstand right next to the large bed. It was late, the moon already doing its job with providing a pleasant light that shone through the blinds & illuminated the gloomy suite. For tomorrow’s mission, you needed to be well-rested to fully function.

Steve insisted that you should occupy the bed on your own. He would be perfectly fine on the couch. The cushions of it were incredibly soft, Tony had paid a fortune after all, you still felt poorly for sleeping in the bed alone. Tomorrow would most likely bring him back pain. He was not the youngest soul, after all. Not that you would ever tell him. It was not meant as offending, though. If you were the one on the couch, your back would kill you as well. But you were too much of a coward to suggest that there was enough space for two people. That & you were scared that he did not even want to share in the first place. That could be an intelligible possibility. Your overthinking consumed quite a bit of time because when you heard Steve’s soft & even breaths, you knew that you were too late already. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe you could gain enough courage to ask him tomorrow. Why were you even so eager to have him beside you? What kind of question was that? You were very well aware why. The conversation you held with yourself in your mind came to an abrupt stop as exhaustion overcame & lulled you into a dreamless night.

Constant knocking stirred you awake. You groaned into your pillow because you were still tired but someone decided to shorten your rest. Assuming Steve was already up, you peeked over the blankets covering your body. You were right, he was opening the door. Appearing like he had not just got out of bed. Or off of the couch, in his case. Steve tried to be as quiet as possible, thinking that you were still passed out on the bed.

“G’morning.” you mumbled out & wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. Steve smiled at you. Right now, you looked cute. Pissed off because it was too early but that did not matter when you were all wrapped up in the blankets.

“Coffee?” he suggested & you immediately got into a sitting position at the mention of it. He had his answer then.

“Wait. What is this?” you gestured to the serving trolley Steve was pushing over to the bed. It was obvious what it was but you were bewildered because you did not expect him to order breakfast.

“Tony took our undercover mission very serious.” he shrugged, leaving the food next to you & wanting to grab a few things to eat by the table.

“No.” you shook your head & halted his movements. “I mean, come on. When was the last time you had breakfast in bed?” you patted the spot next to you. Steve paused for a second but after a short while of contemplation, he agreed & got seated on the mattress. Breakfast in bed. That itself would have been amazing but with Steve? It was almost as if a dream of yours got fulfilled. You needed to stop thinking that way. Undercover missions meant faking, pretending. Why were you struggling so much this time?

“I look like a bitch.” you commented once you got into your undercover outfit. Sam & Bucky were already in your suite & they complained about what a poor excuse their room was compared to yours.

“So what’s different?” Sam joked & earned a slap from you.

“First of all, if we don’t wear what Tony prepared for us, people will notice. And (Y/N)? You don’t look like a bitch, you’re good.” Steve commented & even though his words were not necessarily cute, they still did things to you.

“Woah, Steve. Nice ring you picked out there, pal.” Bucky spotted the diamond on your finger & could not help himself but tease you two about it.

“Could we all just focus on the mission?” funny thing that you were the one saying that. Considering that you probably struggled the most out of the four of you.

“Okay, got it. (Y/N) doesn’t look like a bitch but she acts like one.” Sam smirked & started sprinting through the suite when you took off to catch him. Steve & Bucky shook their heads & chuckled at your childish behavior. None of this was new, though. Things usually went that way when you were sent on a mission together.

“The signal comes from the back of this shop.” Steve whispered, all of you trying to stay undetected for the time being so you could discuss the plan further.

“It’s a pastry shop?” you pointed out & suddenly, three men were rolling their eyes at you. “What?”

“You expected something that sold knives?” Sam teased.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” you whisper-yelled.

“Sam, Bucky. You two enter the back while (Y/N) & I distract the guy.” Steve described your plan once more & you all nodded, each understanding their task. While you did not exactly know what you would do to grab the clerk’s attention, you were certain that you could think of something. Improvising was something you were skilled at, you simply hoped that Steve would not stand in the way.

“Welcome! What can I help y’all with?” the almost sweet voice of the man behind the counter was not what you would expect when you looked him up & down. At the same time, he really appeared out of place in a shop like that.

“Yes!” your enthusiasm, well fake-enthusiasm, was more than obvious & you wrapped your arms around Steve’s torso to get into character. “My fiancé & I are looking for some pies for our upcoming wedding.” Steve let you do the talking, his only response being a nod, underlined with a genuine smile.

“Ah, young love.” the guy clicked his tongue & shook his head slightly. “We have a variety of our best wedding cakes right here.” he pointed to a selection behind a class cabinet.

“No, no, no.” you contradicted. “We’d love to have pie at our wedding. I saw you have some delicious looking options over there.” you gestured to the other side of the shop.

“Pie at a wedding? Isn’t that a little unconventional?” the seller raised his eyebrows, seemingly suspicious & it looked like Steve noticed that as well.

“I think we’ll do fine with cak-“ but before he had the chance to finish, you nudged him with your elbow & shot him a look. “I’m sure your cake is great but pie reflects us better.” Steve corrected himself quickly once he realized what you were planning to do.

“Alrighty, then please follow me over there.” the place behind the counter was now free so Sam & Bucky had a clear path to enter. “Any preferences?”

“Anything, really.” you encouraged the man who opened the showcase. He was so busy with his task, Sam & Bucky had it easy to break in. The corners of your eyes spotted their figures. Now they just needed more time to successfully get the information you all needed.

“Can I ask y’all something?” the clerk spoke up after handing you yet another sample of pie. Truthfully, it was a dream come true. Spending time with Steve while eating pie after pie? If only you did not have to pretend. Did you pretend? Or did you fake to pretend? Your brain did not make sense anymore.

“Go for it.” Steve encouraged.

“You’re the first couple to ask for pie samples. What’s up with that?” the man asked curiously, no longer looking at you like you were suspicious but genuinely interested.

“Well.” Steve chuckled & you could not help but let your gaze flicker up to his face. “We are a very unusual couple. Pie at a wedding is unusual. It’s perfect.” while he spoke those last words, his eyes locked with yours & you could have sworn that time halted right then & there. But you had to snap out of it. For the sake of this mission. A look over the shop owner’s shoulder confirmed that you did not have to pretend too much longer. Sam & Bucky were already on their way out again, turning their heads in your direction to silently confirm that they were done. Successful? That you could not tell just yet.

A few minutes & another pie later, you looked at your watch on your wrist & gasped exaggeratingly.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve asked & you almost gasped again, though this time, it would have been for an entirely different reason.

“Um, it’s late, we need to head to the thing.” you were doing so well & now, at the end, you managed to slip.

“The thing?” Steve inquired & by the look on your face he could tell that you were overwhelmed & could not think of a proper excuse. “Oh, the fitting.” he quickly added, hoping nobody would ask which kind of fitting. Seemed like you two were lucky today.

“In that case…I’ll let y’all go. Do you want me to put the rest of the samples in a box for you to take home? That way you have more time to figure out which one to choose.” he reasoned & Steve & you nodded gratefully. Behind the counter, he worked quickly & handed you a paper bag in no time.

“Thanks, man. We’ll get back to you.” Steve waved, putting an arm over your shoulder as you exited the shop. The moment you were out, you could finally breathe again. Missions made you extremely nervous. Undercover missions such as this one, actually. During the others you were perfectly fine.

“Thanks for helping me out back in there.” you chuckled once you were out of sight.

“Pie? Really? Wouldn’t have surprised me if he just saw through us right away.” Steve said with a smile on his face. Good, so he was not mad at you.

“In my defense…The pies were at the other end of the shop so I helped Sam & Bucky.” you finished your sentence but it sounded as if you wanted to add something.

“And you love pie?” Steve did not even have to ask, he knew you well enough.

“And I love pie.” you repeated & laughed. Steve still had not let go of you, hugging you to the side of his body. You did not seem to mind so he kept continuing to hold you close.

Steve placed the paper bag on the small table right in the entrance area. Immediately, you went to the bathroom to rid yourself of that stupid outfit you had to wear & threw on something more comfortable. Once you exited, Sam was already in your suite. The four of you decided to have the meeting in your room because it was bigger & the others kind of wanted to move in with you.

“What’s in there?” Sam asked, pointing to the brown paper bag.

“Pie.” you simply answered without much thought. Sam hummed but did not say anything else. Steve & you were in the living room area, waiting for Bucky to show up so you could start discussing more about this mission. Specifically what they found out during their inspection. The creak of the door gained your attention & you looked up only to find Bucky entering. Your gaze then flickered to Sam who was hiding behind the door, pie in one hand, his free hand came to his mouth, telling you to be quiet. It all happened too fast, Bucky was in Sam’s sight & in an instant, there was a pie right in the super soldier’s face. Steve came right in time to watch the scene, his previous intention to greet his best friend completely forgotten now.

“Sam.” Bucky growled, way too quiet for your liking. But you could not focus on his warning right now. You glanced over your shoulder & noticed Steve’s almost sad expression. The only one who could not control his laughter was Sam. He was practically on the floor because he was laughing so hard. The only emotion running through you was anger.

“I. WANTED. TO. EAT. THAT.” you were seething & all three men turned their heads at your tone.

“Sorry?” Sam tried but you were having none of it.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” you pretty much yelled.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Bucky whispered & Sam took that as his cue to run away, through that labyrinth of your suite. Bucky sprinted after him, leaving Steve to shake his head at their childish behavior.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice was soft & yet it did nothing to calm you down. You really did love pie & you had been excited to eat the rest of it in bed tonight ever since you left that shop.

“WHAT?” you snapped back, only now realizing that it was not Steve’s fault. “I’m sorry.” you added almost inaudible.

“It’s fine.” he raised his eyebrows & opened his arms. You were not sure why but Steve wanted to hug you & you never declined one of his hugs. So you fell into his embrace, both of you silently knowing that this action was not because of a stupid pie. Though you had to admit that you were mad at Sam that you could not eat the rest anymore. This hug held a deeper meaning & for a few seconds, you let yourself enjoy it. Until a loud screech from the other room snapped you back into the present. Steve & you parted unwillingly. You had to, before Sam & Bucky ended up killing each other.

The four of you sat around the coffee table, you occupying the floor while the others each took a seat on the oversized couch. A pout was still very much present on your face. Yes, you were mad at Sam but you had other things, more important things, to deal with right now. Revenge could come later.

“So?” Steve was the one to speak up after nobody else made a move to do so.

“Sam & I managed to break in.” Bucky casually said as if you did not see that to begin with. That was the plan after all.

“But?” your tone was still harsh but you tried your hardest to push that aside.

“We couldn’t hack the system.” Sam finished. “That’s your specialty.”

“Okay, wait.” you closed your eyes briefly. “You wanna tell me that it took you what felt like an eternity to check out the back room only to sit here now & tell us that you couldn’t get the information?” you concluded with a loud sigh.

“In our defense…We know that we’re definitely looking at the right place.” Bucky commented, careful to not anger you any further.

“So what do you suggest?” Steve asked the two men.

“We’ll go there again tonight. All of us. (Y/N) here hacks the system & we’ll see what we can do after that.” Sam established the new plan & you nodded in understanding.

“I still hate you for wasting the pie on Bucky.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sam chuckled though you knew he was not planning on keeping his promise.

“Alright, please go back to your room before I do something I might regret later.” you motioned for Sam & Bucky to leave & they did after arranging a time to meet again.

Since you had the brains in this group, it was an easy one for you to deactivate the security cameras without being seen. After that, you went on to the alarm system & turned it off as well. Which meant that you were free to go. It was the dead of the night, nobody was around. You could enter without a single soul watching you. Steve pushed his body weight against the back door. Once, twice. Until it opened.

“You do know that I could’ve picked the lock, right?” your voice made him spin around. It looked like he only now thought of that but he brushed it off, pretending that this was his plan & it worked out the way he wanted to. The room appeared rather normal. Nothing that caught your eye, nothing that was out of place. An office like you had seen multiple times. The computer was turned off so you changed that real quick, waiting for the screens to light up.

“Earlier today, it wasn’t protected by a password.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, dumbass. Because the computer was on already. Give me a second.” you opened various drawers to look for a sign as to what the password could possibly be. The others let you do your work, not daring to speak up to interrupt you. “There we go.” you found a small paper in between some notebooks. Not necessarily the safest place to keep secret things but you would not judge. The home screen showed up. Again, nothing special. Simply a picture of flowers. Weird for the guy who worked here but that was none of your concerns.

“And?” Steve broke the silence.

“There are some decrypted files…” you mumbled, sitting down on the office chair. This would take a bit longer, you assumed.

“Can you get access?” another question from Steve. At least the children were quiet for now.

“Of course I can.” you smiled triumphantly. “Give me a few minutes, though.” you were so focused on the screen, you did not see the others nodding. It was tough, you were not going to lie, but it was you who hacked into the system. You never failed with that.

“Huh.” you breathed out. Truthfully, you were overwhelmed with all the information you were receiving with one look only. Steve, Sam & Bucky each took a place behind you, staring at the screen curiously. “Guys? That’s…scary.” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“What is this?” Bucky mumbled quietly but since it was so silent in this room, everyone heard. This was way bigger than you initially thought. Once you made it back to your hotel, you needed to call Tony.

“(Y/N).” Steve shoved you away gently, taking the mouse in his hand to enlarge what caught his attention. You had to gulp at what you saw. What the hell were you doing on there? Steve’s muscles tensed, you could tell by one single look at him. It took a few deep breaths from your side until you started the process of transferring the information on your little flash drive. ”(Y/N).” Steve tried again, this time a bit louder.

“Yeah, I know.” you answered, ignoring your fast beating heart as much as it was possible. “I got everything, let’s head back.” it was clear that you wanted to leave this place behind & you were the first who made it out into the cool night air. Breathing worked easier out here.

“Hey, Tony.” by now, you were back in your hotel room, picking up your phone to call Tony once Steve went into the bathroom.

“(Y/N)! Successful?” he asked, already thinking that you finished this mission & started heading home.

“Not yet. Seems like this is bigger than we thought…” you trailed off at the end, not really wanting to explain what you found out.

“Bigger how? (Y/L/N), come on.” Tony urged & heard you sigh over the phone.

“It was at the back of the shop, that was correct. I hacked into the system & …it looks like it’s some sort of website where people can pay beforehand, assigning criminals for certain acts. It’s huge, Tony. Tons of people have an account & there are so many new assignments every minute…I’ll send you the data in a second, okay? We’ll check out the coordinates we found tomorrow. We think it could lead us to a very important member of this website. And maybe the guy from the shop has something to do with it, though I’m not sure which part he plays in all of that.” you left out a very significant detail & hoped he would not ask more questions.

“There’s something else.” he stated, knowing you better even though he could not read your body language like he usually did.

“That’s all. I promise we’ll finish this missi-“ your phone was taken from you but before you could complain about it, Steve continued the call with Tony.

“Someone instructed to eliminate (Y/N) because, & I quote, “She’s too pretty to be part of the Avengers”. That assignment was where we got the coordinates from. Means the guy from the shop probably manages all of that but he isn’t the one we’re looking for.” silence enveloped you two & you figured that Tony was talking on the other end. “Yeah, sure. That’s the top priority. We’ll work on that & you start looking into the website.” Steve ended the call & threw your phone on the mattress next to where you were sitting.

“What the hell, Steve?” you were furious because he acted differently. And not in a good way. The only response from him was a cold look. He then moved out to the balcony that was attached to your suite. It was unusual for him to be so distanced, especially when it came to you. And you were hesitant to follow him. Considering his body language, he was mad at you. Why? You had no idea. Did you do anything to piss him off? Your gaze fell to your hands in your lap. The diamond on your ring finger sparkled beautifully. You recalled how it felt to be next to Steve, in that small pastry shop where you ate pie after pie to pick the perfect one for your wedding. This was something that could never be. It was all pretending but why did it feel so real to you? Steve probably was not struggling as much as you were & you hated yourself for it.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Steve eased when he found you standing next to him. The sun would begin rising soon but the both of you were not tired at all. Though the reasons were different. Steve’s mind was still occupied with the information that there was someone out there who paid an awful lot of money to have you eliminated. You, on the other hand, struggled with keeping your feelings buried. Your hands held onto the railing. The movement made Steve look down where the engagement ring was still adorning your hand. You had not taken it off yet. In fact, he only realized that now, you even wore it during your mission of breaking into the shop. Sam & Bucky did not comment on it & to Steve, it was almost…normal. But you did say you would not keep it on you unless you were outside, pretending to be engaged to him.

“What did I do?” your voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

“What?” Steve was confused that you believed you did something wrong.

“Ever since we got outta that shop, you’ve been distant & cold. Was it something I did?” you kept looking straight forward, not wanting to hold eye contact because you feared the worst. That you managed to mess up somehow & Steve was angry at you.

“You didn’t do anything.” his body faced yours & you could practically feel his eyes on you. His intense stare made your breath hitch up.

“You sure about that?” finally, you turned around. Your bodies were almost touching, you underestimated the distance between you two.

“You act as if you don’t care.” his statement had you furrow your eyebrows. He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “Someone paid a huge amount of money. To have you killed. And here you are, pretending that it doesn’t matter. It’s something you’re really good at, huh? Pretending.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” your voice raised slightly but you still wanted to keep it down, you were outside, everyone could hear your conversation.

“See? You’re doing it again.” Steve called you out. “We found that piece of information by accident.”

“I’m aware.” you arms went to hug yourself. A distraction that barely did its job.

“So your life means nothing to you.” his words were harsh. And if you were honest, they hurt. A lot.

“I never said that.” you hated how your voice wavered. How you could not appear to be the strong woman right now.

“You act like it, though.” with each word he said, your heart broke a little more. If only he knew. “I understand. This whole pretending thing is something you’re good at. This mission showed that much. But this is real, (Y/N). So, for a second, stop pretending & act like you care!”

“STOP!” you yelled out of breath. Instinctively, Steve took a step back, eyes wide by your sudden outburst. “Just stop.” this time, you spoke it much softer. Your gaze flickered to the ground, head hanging low.

“I’m sorr-“ Steve was interrupted.

“I said stop.” you repeated. “Steve, we’re on a mission. We’re supposed to put a stop to this shit. None of this has anything to do with me pretending to be your fiancée or me pretending that I don’t give a damn about my life.”

“Are you sure about that?” he emphasized. One hand went to the diamond on your finger & slipped it off. You made a fist around it, though it was not with a lot of pressure. You did not intend to damage the ring.

“I might be good at pretending but I’m no professional.” you admitted. Steve grew more & more confused. He did not know you were talking about the fact that you were not pretending to be engaged to him. To you, it felt natural, it felt good. Right now, though, you did pretend that none of this faced you. But Steve could not tell the difference.

“Can I be honest with you?” he waited until your eyes met his.

“Go ahead.” you waved your hand for him to continue.

“I was cold towards you because once we found out about that, you didn’t say anything about it. And I can’t believe that you just don’t care about it. About your life. I can’t. You don’t have to pretend when you’re with me, you know that. We’re not engaged right now. No undercover mission. You & me. So please be honest with me.” he took your hands into his & you did not flinch back. The touch grounded you but it was no lie that you were having a hard time to be completely honest with him.

“Why do you care so much?” maybe not the smartest thing to ask. Steve’s reaction was proof enough. He let go of your hands, turned his back towards you & let out a breathless laugh. His hands raised to his hair, messing it up in the slightest. Seconds ticked by but it felt like hours until he spun around once more.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” it seemed like that confession made the both of you stop dead in your tracks. It was not the first time Steve said those words but his tone differed from the previous ones. Still, chances were high he addressed your friendship with that. Because you were friends. Simple friends. “Say something.” he grew desperate when you did not reply.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say. That I love you, too? You know that, Steve.” your words were steady, calculated. It was too soon to get your hopes up.

“How far do I have to go for you to realize that I want you?” he approached you, hesitancy in his steps. “Didn’t it feel natural to you when we acted like a couple? Because, I can’t keep that up anymore, I can’t. Tell me you don’t feel the same & I’ll back off. We can forget this right now, we don’t have to talk about it anymore. But if you-“ his speech was cute but you had to be close to him now that he finally confessed that there was more between you two. You cupped his cheeks & pulled him in to kiss him. Steve was shocked at first but it did not take him too long until his hands rested on your waist, tightening his grip on you. After parting, Steve kept his forehead against yours. Both of you had your eyes closed, breathing the same air. You imagined this exact moment more than once. But never before had it played out like that. Not that you were complaining, your feelings were finally out there.

“You were wrong, you know?” as much as you enjoyed the silence, there was still something you wanted him to know.

“Wrong about what?” he opened his eyes to look at every feature of you. Because it was no longer forbidden, he was allowed to do that now.

“I didn’t pretend while we were in the shop pie tasting.” you admitted, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. “I faked pretending, if that makes sense…But, after I saw the bounty on my head, I started pretending.” he nodded at you, squeezing your waist once to encourage you to keep talking. “Steve? I’m scared.”

“It’s okay.” Steve’s arms went around your shoulders, pulling you close once again. His chin on your head. If only that could dispose of all of your worries. The only thing he could do was letting you hold onto him.

Steve did not sleep on the couch that night. Not because he did not want to but because you insisted to have him close. It was not the first time you two shared a bed. Sometimes, when missions did not allow you anything else, you ended up next to each other. Tonight felt different, better. Because there was no longer a weight on your heart. Were you two in a relationship already? Maybe you had been for some time but the two of you were too oblivious to notice. There was enough time to label whatever this was as soon as this mission was over. Your focus should solely be on this mission. Tons of lives depended on it. Yours included.

“You’re stubborn. Do you know that?” the next morning came sooner than you would have liked. No time for cuddling in bed, no time for breakfast. Two hours of sleep was all you got. But you had never felt this rested in your entire life. The reason was a certain super soldier. Not that you would ever admit that.

“Would I have chickened out if I didn’t know they were after me? No. I can handle myself.” Steve suggested for you to stay behind because they were looking for you. It could bring on unnecessary danger & he obviously needed you to be safe.

“But we know now.” Steve tried reasoning but it was useless, you already made your decision.

“Right. So it’s time to put a stop to it. Come on, Sam & Bucky are waiting for us.” you were out of the door before Steve found enough time to argue with you.

The drive to the coordinates was tense. Not even the kids in the back were joking around. Possibly because this mission turned into something way more hazardous. The situation between Steve & you was the same. Hence why nobody commented on it. After all, you pretty much confessed before there was an actual confession. Therefore, it was the same old. The only difference was your gut feeling that did not give you a hard time anymore. That was not entirely true. You had a bad gut feeling but for another reason.

“That’s the house?” you gestured to the building after the car came to a stop.

“This is it.” Steve confirmed.

“I don’t know why I expected some sort of villa.” Bucky commented while glancing out of the window.

“Maybe that would be too obvious. I mean, we do know that they receive the money beforehand, right? And I’m sure that the order to eliminate me wasn’t his first one.” you spotted Steve tensing up when you talked about that assignment. Your hand squeezed his shoulder & you hoped that your smile was convincing enough. You were alright & you would be after this mission. With Steve, Sam & Bucky on your side, you had nothing to fear. If push came to shove, they would go out of their ways to keep you safe.

“Steve?” Sam spoke up. “You know we need him alive, right?”

“Of course.” Steve nodded though his mind was contemplating going further than that. Unfortunately, you still had to figure out who was the one to assign this to the criminal. Tony was onto that, checking if there was more to find out about that anonymous account who paid the money. “A few punches won’t kill him.”

It was the break of dawn & the neighborhood was completely empty. The silence inside the car was interrupted by Steve’s sign to make a move. All of you stayed close together, you were not about to make the same mistake people did in horror movies. Besides, you felt safer with them around. A noise made you spin around. It was coming from down the hallway. Steve took the lead, you right behind him. Sam & Bucky trailing behind after you. A gun was clutched in your hand but you were not intending to use it today. Hopefully there was no need to. Steve shot you a look over his shoulder, silently telling you to be prepared. When he pushed the door open with his body weight this time, you did not tease him about it like you did when you broke into the back of the pastry shop the other night. The sight you were met with was…unexpected. There was a man sitting behind his computer. The room smelled like drugs. A mixture of multiple things you could not identify & did not even want to.

“Woah, you’re the Avengers.” he slurred his words. So he was drunk as well. “Hey, I’m supposed to kill you.” he pointed at your figure & instinctively, Steve stepped in front of you. Shielding your body with his.

“You sure that’s our guy?” Sam leaned closer to you & whispered. Your shoulders shrugged & you pointed over to the desk where a name tag was proudly displayed. Seemed like he was not the smartest guy if he used the same name for his account on that website. Your heartrate slowed down because you knew you were not in danger. Not right now. Steve approached the man, coming to a halt mere inches away from him. His hand balled into a fist & after one punch in the guy’s face, he was on the floor, unconscious.

“Huh.” you breathed out. “That was almost too easy.”

“Yeah, if we forget about the website where thousands of people assign offenders every single day.” Bucky was right, of course. You stumbled across something way bigger. Hopefully Tony had good news once you returned.

The police was called. They inspected the room & that guy really was everything but intelligent. He horded a file full of his assignments. He would not see the sunlight again, that much was sure. Steve & you waited outside, leaning on the hood of the car. Sam & Bucky were busy talking to the officers.

“Hey.” you started & nudged Steve with your elbow. “Is it appropriate to thank that asshole?”

“What for? For wanting to kill you?” he answered with furrowed eyebrows.

“No.” you chuckled. “But…if it were not for him, we wouldn’t have confessed.”

“There was a possibility that he was dangerous. Maybe we just caught him at a bad time.” Steve mumbled the last part.

“Let’s not worry about that, alright? I’m fine. See?” you gestured to your body, a big smile adorning your features.

“I know.” he nodded but it was obvious that he was still careful about this entire situation.

“I love you.” that seemed to do the job. His eyes met yours, his expression less tense & softer.

“I know that, too.” he smirked when you playfully slapped his chest.

“Steve, you ruined a very roman-“ his lips were on yours before you could finish your complaint. Steve was aware what he was doing, because he smiled into the kiss which caused you to giggle.

“I love you, too.” his lips still ghosted over yours. You could feel as his words left them. “Romantic enough?”

“I’m sure you can do better.” you pulled away & winked at him, moving away to join Sam & Bucky. Steve’s eyes followed your body & he shook his head at you. Yes, he did love you. A lot. And he was already planning how to make his next move even more romantic.

Published (05/18/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @zestyemby, @captainxholmes, @met4no1a, @bibliophilewednesday, @weareironmanbitches, @n3ssm0nique, @2bornot2b, @iaalien, @bibliophilewednesday (thanks for your support <3)

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Time and Chance II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the lack of Zhongli. I feel completely awful currently and though I wrote part of his scenario it was really poor in quality so I decided to stick with Kaeya and Xiao. I’ll get to him and Keqing another time I promise. Also don’t worry this isn’t life or death I just need to sleep it off lol. I realize between this and my computer there’s always something and I feel a bit guilty about it. At least I hope everything’s up to par!

This also probably won’t get proofread tonight.

I hope you enjoyed my extra fic for Valentine’s Day! To all the lovely people who requested prompts I will be getting to those next week. Have a lovely night and thank you so much for your patience!

Kaeya

Perhaps falling in love with Kaeya wasn’t the most original thing you’d ever done, but by the time you’d come to that conclusion you were too far gone to care.

You loved Kaeya, or at least you liked him a lot. As someone who looked up to the Knights of Favonius there was something intriguing about the man who was simultaneously one of its lynchpins, and a sort of rogue state of a human being. It didn’t hurt that he was stupidly good looking, and a bit of a smoother talker. Okay, maybe more than a bit, but you didn’t really mind that. It was nice to be flirted with sometimes, and Kaeya had the sense never to take it too far.

You figured that Kaeya was at least somewhat aware of your feelings. Though you never asked about it, it seemed somehow too brash. Instead you figured that, in the months that had passed since your friendship had begun – for you did see it as a friendship by now – Kaeya had become aware and decided not to comment on it, as to not hurt your feelings. Though you wouldn’t go as far as call it noble of him, you certainly appreciated it.

So this charade continued on. You two remained close friends, or rather close friends in your estimation. Kaeya continued to flirt and you continued to ignore your personal feelings. It was truly an odd song and dance, but it wasn’t one you were about to change, not willingly anyways.

It’d become a bit of a tradition to patrol together. Seeing as you were an adventurer yourself and Kaeya was, well, Kaeya, you two had eventually decided it was better to make one long patrol together than two shorter patrols apart. Besides wasn’t the rule safety in numbers?

It was an exceedingly boring patrol, and as it neared its end the atmosphere between you two grew from semi-serious to absolute buffoonery. Kaeya had challenged you to see who could pick the most flowers the fastest, then who could control their vision’s element the long, then eventually, seized by some divine genius, he suggested that you might see who could run the farthest on the walls of Monstadt without falling over.

“This has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to.” You grumbled good naturedly. “Don’t blame me if you go tumbling off and end up with a broken leg.”

“I trust you’ll lift me to safety before that happens.” Kaeya answered back, eyes alight with his daredevil proposal.

“My anemo vision isn’t your personal elevator captain.” You reminded him. Hauling yourself up on the walls so you were on the farthest side you flashed a thumbs up. Kaeya nodded.

“Okay. Three… two… one and three quarters.”

“Kaeya.” You huffed, eliciting a chuckle from the knight.

“Okay, okay. Three, two, one, go!” The two of you ran as fast as you could, scrambling up the turrets, too concentrated to talk. Kaeya was laughing though, and eventually you found yourself laughing too, thrilled by the recklessness you were indulging in and the freedom to be doing it with someone apparently as stupid as you were.

“I’m getting ahead~” Kaeya chimed. You scoffed, quickening your pace. Kaeya did likewise, and for a moment it seems you two were going to be running the entire wall in this position. That is before Kaeya slipped.

“Shit.” He cursed, waving his arms like a madman. This only lasted a few seconds before he truly tumbled off, heading towards the stone paved ground. You didn’t say anything, though your brain was screaming various incomprehensible things. You simply clambered off your perch, hands already outstretched, praying to the god Barbatos that you could manipulate air you couldn’t see.

Luck was on your side as it turned out, and your swirl of wind caught Kaeya before he hit the pavement. Gliding down you shook your head wildly.

“Great gods Kaeya you scared the shit out of me!” You knew that you were screaming slightly, but you couldn’t help it. The whole situation had riled you up, leaving you panicked and not fully in control of your emotions.

“I’m fine! Honestly I am. I’m only sorry I lost.” Kaeya chuckled, but his laughter was weaker than before and his expression was slightly shocked.

“It’s not time to joke around Kaeya!” You shot back. “You can’t be so reckless! I know that it was also my fault for agreeing to it, but honestly! What would Monstadt do without you? What would I do without you?” You paused then, realizing that what you said held certain implications you’d been hoping to keep under wraps.

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s expression immediately became brighter. Figures he’d read the meaning into your words. Honestly the man was too emotionally intelligent for his own good.

“I meant was I said.” You replied, figuring that there was nothing else to say. The truth was all but out now. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you Kaeya. Now I’m going to tell you something I’ve been hiding for a while, and since I saved your life and revealed it in the process I just want you to take it seriously, okay? I’m not joking, and now that I’ve said it I want to make it explicit. I like you. Like, I like, like you. And I know that I’m just your friend and that you’ve probably been aware of it for ages, but it’s out in the open now, okay? You don’t have to reciprocate or anything, that’s not it. I just… want to let it out.”

You stared at Kaeya, trying to gauge his reaction as much as possible, unwilling to look away. Unsurprisingly the news hardly seemed shocking to him, but instead of his smile slipping from his face it only grew wider. “You’re kinda oblivious you know.”

“I – what?” You sputtered, slightly offended. This wasn’t where you expecting it to go. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate, but leave the teasing alone for now at least!” So much for calling Kaeya emotionally intelligent.

“You’re reading this the wrong way!” Kaeya held up his hands, before stepping closer to you. “I just can’t believe that you’ve been my friend this whole time, had feelings on top of it, and never noticed that I was just as interested in you. I mean I’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“You flirt with everyone.” You scoffed, although the argument seemed to hold a bit less weight when compared to the jubilant, slightly smug look on Kaeya’s face.

“You may be right about that.” He admitted. “But c’mon. I don’t flirt with them like I flirt with you. I certainly don’t take them out on patrol.” His expression turned softer then, and he shook his head. “I know that I joke around a lot, but I promise, I wouldn’t joke about this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you though, that was a fault on my part.”

“So you mean I’ve been hiding my feelings all this time for nothing?” You deadpanned, feeling overwhelmed. The situation still seemed too good to be true.

“Sounds about right.” Mischief was creeping back into Kaeya’s voice. “But it’s all right now! Your prayers have been heard! So, since you were the one to admit your feelings, I’ll be the one to ask the question. Want to date?”

“Yes.” You replied, sure of your answer.

“Good.” Kaeya replied, before pulling you into a hug, one you gladly reciprocated. It had been a hell of a day, and while you wouldn’t relieve Kaeya’s fall for anything you felt somehow lighter, as if a great burden had been lifted off your shoulders. He liked you, Kaeya liked you. For you, for now, that was all that mattered.

Xiao

Once you’d decided to admit your feelings to Xiao you’d immediately followed up that decision with the knowledge that you were going to have to break it to him slowly. You’d been friends with Xiao for over a year now, and though you were cautiously optimistic as to how the adeptus would take it, you still knew that he wasn’t the kind of person who would be at all comfortable with a sudden confession.

Confessing your feelings was in itself an act which required all the courage you possessed. You weren’t sure when you’d truly started falling for Xiao, it had come about so gradually. But before you knew it you had grown to love him. You loved the way he talked, the soft cadence of his voice though often impatient was still filled with enough softness to make your heart flutter. You loved how, despite all he’d suffered, he still retained a begrudging love for the world, especially Liyue, which he once revealed to you would always be the one thing he loved, even if he loved nothing else. You loved everything, his hands, his eyes, the way he walked, the way he kept going despite it all. You loved it so much it hurt, and now you found that your love wasn’t something merely to be pushed away. If the odds of Xiao rejecting you were almost 100 so be it, at least then you’d be proud of yourself.

You spent quite a bit of time mulling the whole thing over, before the answer struck you. Xiao refused the gifts you brought him after some of your adventures, and when you’d once asked him what he might accept he’d shifted his gaze slightly towards the side, one hand running itself through his hair. “…Almond… Tofu.” He’d admitted. You’d been delighted by the revelation at the time, promising yourself you’d learn to make it. And what was a better way to show your feelings than to do so now? Not only was it something he’d like, it was something you’d made yourself.

So you gathered all the ingredients, borrow a receipt, and set to work in Wangshu Inn’s kitchen.

Unfortunately you’d failed to predict how difficult Almost Tofu was to make. It’d been hours and you had nothing to show for it but dirty utensils, a scarcity of ingredients, and a few mysterious blobs that looked about two steps away from inedible. Leaning your head on the counter you let out a groan. Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?

“What’re you doing?” A familiar voice broke through your reverie.

“Xiao!” You exclaimed, glancing around you. There was no use hiding the project, although technically nothing was looking even close to Almond Tofu right now. “I was, I was trying to make Almond Tofu. But I guess I’m no good at cooking.” You laughed, more than slightly embarrassed.

Xiao’s eyes narrowed, and he raised an eyebrow. Saying nothing he walked over to the counter. Grabbing a cloth he started wiping down the counter.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, slightly confused and extremely surprised.

“Teaching you.” Came the reply. “Come on, let’s start again. Have you washed your hands since your last attempt?”

If cooking was difficult without Xiao it was impossible with him. The whole time you couldn’t help butbe aware of his presence, the way he stood behind you, leaning forward ever so often. Once you hadn’t been mixing fast enough and he placed his hands on yours, pressing his chest against your back. Your grip had immediately lost all strength, and you were sure that Xiao was the only one actually working. His breath was warm against your neck, and his palms were warm and dry. It was all too much, and you spent the rest of the lesson only half paying attention, too wrapped up in his proximity to you.

Despite the distractions this batch turned out, well looking like Almond Tofu. You couldn’t help but smile when seeing the finished product. Even if you didn’t make it completely yourself, there was still something about creating that gave you a sense of pride. Even if you did need help from the person you were going to give it to.

“It’s done.” Xiao proclaimed, a slight smile of satisfaction on his face. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, well actually I made it for you.” You grabbed the plate and approached the adeptus. “I know you said it was your favorite, and the only thing you’d accept, so, I made it!” You smiled slightly, though inside you were a bundle of nerves. This was happening. Holy shit this was happening.

The surprise on Xiao’s face was evident, but he nevertheless took the plate. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks he pressed into the tofu, causing it to almost immediately separate. Taking a bite a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he said, “it’s very good. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” You replied, voice slightly hurried. “And, um, well I’d like to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Xiao’s slightly concerned look returned. Setting the plate down he crossed his arms.

“Well… you see.” You glanced at the floor. “I know this will probably seem very sudden, and maybe not very proper; and I know that this is something that’s purely one sided, but the fact is I like you. I like you more than a friend and, well… yeah.” You finished, feeling as if you’d just spoken some utter nonsense.

Glancing up you noticed how rigid Xiao had gone. Mouth twisting into a nervous frown you shook your head. “I’m so sorry! I know that you aren’t really, well you’ve said you aren’t familiar with the way humans experience the world. And I don’t want to put you on the spot, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I’m sorry it’s so shocking.” Glancing away you started worrying your hands together. This had gone so much worse than you’d expected it.

“I don’t understand,” Xiao finally spoke, dropping his arms to his sides, “I don’t understand why you’d like someone like me. I’m not a human, and in terms of adepti I’m far more cursed than most. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t like some like me. I bring disaster.”

“No you don’t!” The objection came naturally to you, horrified as you were by Xiao’s view of himself. “You’re one of the most wonderful beings I’ve ever met, human or adeptal! You’re kind, and you try to understand the pain and emotions of humanity. And you never push your burdens onto others despite carrying such heavy ones. If that’s not the mark of a good person, well then I don’t know what is!”

“I still don’t understand.” Xiao said, voice softer than usual but just as matter of fact.

“I’m sorry I pushed this onto you.” You said, suddenly feeling a burst of regret, turning around you made to leave the kitchen.

“Wait!” Xiao’s voice was loud and slightly jarring, his hand caught your wrist in a grip that, while gentle, was still firm. You turned around, unsure what to expect. Xiao sighed, closing the distance between you two. “When I said I don’t understand, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” There was a pause as he collected his thoughts, looking down, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t understand how humans think, nor how they feel. But, when I’m around you I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in a millennia. And I want to be around you, all the time sometimes. I want to know more about you and I want you to know more about me. So, if that’s what you mean, then… I also like you.”

Xiao glanced back up towards you and your eyes met. You felt slightly floaty all of a sudden, as if you’d gotten very, very drunk. Everything was too sudden, your emotions had changed too quickly. But through all your confusion you understood one thing. Xiao liked you, he liked you. He wasn’t going to reject you or push you away. The thought was enough to bring a smile to your face.

“So you really like me?” You asked. Though you knew the answer now you still wanted to hear it again. Just in case.

“Yes.” Xiao replied, a smile once more adorning his face. “I like you.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

#sorry again I'm just in so much pain right now #but I'm fine I just need to sleep or something #anyways #kaeya #xiao #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Five

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.

While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.

Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.

Chapter 5

Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.

Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.

Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”

His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”

“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”

Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”

Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”

“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”

Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.

"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!

"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.

"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.

Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.

The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.

"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."

"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.

Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"

"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.

She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.

"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”

Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!

"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.

"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"

Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.

Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."

This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.

Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.

"Oh shit!"

°°°

A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.

Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.

"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.

"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"And you are...?"

Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."

Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.

Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.

"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."

"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."

"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"

Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.

"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.

Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“

Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."

"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.

"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.

“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.

A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”

Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.

°°°

“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.

"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."

"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."

Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."

Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."

"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"

"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."

The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"

What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.

"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.

°°°

He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.

“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”

Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.

“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”

Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”

If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.

°°°

Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!

“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.

With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”

“No, the charges were dropped.”

Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.

As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."

Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.

"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.

With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."

Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.

With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"

"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.

Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.

Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.

“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.

“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”

Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“

Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.

As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.

He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”

“Tenders and fries.”

Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.

Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.

Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.

Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.

“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”

°°°

There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.

°°°

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #henry cavill fluff

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

No secrets 2- Thomas

This is part 2, not as long but i will be working on another smaller part 3 where they walk together and have lunch. so it’ll be 2 happy Cressworth fics which are rare for me so enjoy!

For the first time in six months, I wake with excitement and not resentment or grief. The air fills me with anticipation. My Wadsworth doesn't hate me, it just turns out we are both complete idiots and I will never hear the end of it from my delightful sister who kept telling me to try and talk to her. I tried a few times, I came so close to knocking on her door.

Even though we made plans to spend the day together, I've no idea what to expect. That was the charm of having her in my life. I may have shocked her now and then with my choices but she was a constant shock that I was enthralled with, so much so that even if it was a terrible idea, I had to go along with it. I'd add my own charm to it and it became our adventure.

I am convinced this is not real, that she won't be on my sofa. When she showed up my heart leapt out from me so all of London could hear. I wanted to be angry when she showed up when it suited her, well, almost suited her, but I couldn’t. I also had ample opportunity to talk to her. We both could have fixed this sooner. Perhaps the time away, the time alone, has helped us understand our feelings more. Whilst I hated every second of it, it might have been necessary.

I get out of bed and stretch and try to decide whether I should make myself semi presentable for breakfast or not. Straightening my hair slightly I leave, quietly leaving my room and entering my living room to find Audrey Rose still asleep. She is curled up, the blanket half on the floor. My shirt pools around her and she looks adorable. Her hair is sprawled beneath her, all the pins on my table. I've never seen her with her hair down and I hope she keeps it down through breakfast. I hope I have enough self control to not brush one of her curls back behind her ear. Audrey Rose would adore it, the scoundrel that she is, but I don't want to rush this. I want to show her and myself there is nothing to fear in this being easy. There is no rush, no societal pressure. Nothing to make us run again.

My plan thus far is to make breakfast, wake Wadsworth so we can eat, walk her home so she can change and to give us both space to process breakfast, then return to her home and take her to lunch. I can't fathom why Audrey Rose didn't wait till the morning for this, but as much as she calls me dramatic, she certainly manages to time things in the most dramatic ways possible. Even if I possessed the courage to talk to her, I would have not done it in the rain. I would've found a much more dramatic way, my dreams were full of romantic gestures that led to either me nearly deciding to see her or abandoning all plans I had to stay in bed and drown in my self loathing.

Before this happened I would sometimes look at her in disbelief, I was enamoured by her, and she had this look that led me to believe she felt the same. Which was madness. I believed I wasn't good enough. I tried so hard to prove her, and myself, that I was worth her love. When she left I was convinced it was because she realised how much she was worth compared to me. I couldn't blame her, I fell back to my cold hearted ways since she wasn't around to brighten up my day. It was miserable, but seemed fitting.

Now I have to tell my sister she was right and consider that I am good enough for Wadsworth, and it is not selfish of me to be in her life. She wants me ‘in any way’ which leads me to believe I can return to my usual flirtations with her, make her smile despite the eye rolls.

My mind gets lost in the familiar pattern of breakfast that i don't hear Wadsworth move until she says my name. I look over and immediately smile, she is upright trying to make her hair neat, pulling back half of it and pinning it down so it is mostly presentable. I return my focus down to the food giving her time to wake fully before joining me.

I pile the food onto two plates and set them onto the table, filling two glasses with water and sit down. I obviously steal a glance at Wadsworth and my breath catches as she stands, tucking my shirt into the trousers and taking one of the many pins left on the table and making the trousers tighter around her waist. An ingenious idea but she could've asked for a belt.

“Morning Wadsworth,'' I say and she spins as though she hadn't realised I was in the kitchen. She makes her way over and sits down, her hair falling over one shoulder and a strand loosens from the pin, framing her face and I was right to worry about my self control.

“Morning Cresswell,” she says with a small smile, “did you sleep well?”

I want to tell her I slept great for the first time in six months, that I didn't fall asleep with what ifs that made me worry too much. That i woke with pure excitement. Instead I tell her it was fantastic, my smile hopefully indicating she is the reason why.

“As was mine, your sofa is very comfortable.”

“I know, at least once a week I find myself sleeping there, most times I fall asleep reading or I am just too tired to reach my room .” We start to eat, a silence settling over us that feels familiar and new and right. She looks in better condition than last night, her face no longer flush with cold, her hair not wet but slightly damp, and her face is less tired and not just because she slept. She looks more relaxed and relieved. I'm sure I do too.

“How have you been Wadsworth?” I can hear my own hesitation in my voice, and know that I don't know what answer to expect. It has been a long six months for me, and I can only imagine what it's been like for Wadsworth.”

“I-” she begins but trails off, then sets her fork down and clears her throat. “A mess, I thought at first i was fine, then over time, i noticed i wasn't and felt something was missing or wrong and even though i knew it was you, i was afraid of what that meant so i tried to ignore it but-”

“You couldn't. You missed my handsome face and charming wit, didn't you?”

She smiles brightly at me, melting the cold persona I clung to in her absence. “I missed my friend, the person who would make wildly inappropriate jokes at the worst times just to reassure us both. Uncle has also missed you, not that he'll admit it, and Liza had been writing to me far more often than normal to see if we had spoken.”

“I missed you too, and will happily tell your uncle I've missed him. I missed our adventures Wadsworth and having someone who knows me and can remind me that others can hear what I say so I should save my comments. Dacina had been writing too, telling me I was a fool and I should talk to you but I was convinced that would make it worse.”

“I am sorry Cresswell, for running and not saying anything, we should both listen to our family more.”

I lift my glass of water, not wanting to dwell on the past, and Wadsworth picks hers up waiting for me to make my little toast. “To our inability to listen and our amazing ability to convince ourselves of falsehoods.” We clink whilst she bursts out laughing, and the sound is like music to me.

“We certainly exceeded expectations this time didn't we?” she replies and I lose all self control and move to brush the strand back. Her hair is soft as I gently place it behind her ear and she goes still and I fear I've already pushed too far. Yet she smiles at me, leaning into my touch slightly as I pull away, caressing her cheek as I go.

The rest of breakfast follows that pattern, us catching up on our adventures over the six months, easy laughter and smiles and I want to capture this moment and look back on it when we are both old to show our potential children or at least have it for us so I can remind her how beautiful she looks all the time.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cressworth #audrey rose wadsworth #wadsworth #cresswell #kerri maniscalco #thomas cresswell

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neoskidz · 4 years

Text

The Heart Stealer || Na Jaemin

WC. 1.5K

GENRE. Fluff / Phantom thief!au / High school!au

ELSIE’S NOTE. This is an old fic I had published before, titled “His Fallen Star”. The content itself doesn’t that much different, but with some upgrade. And some of you might be familiar from which anime this fic was inspired ;)

SUMMARY.

Being one of the famous detective’s closest childhood friends does have its perks, especially when a certain phantom thief takes interest in you. Little did you two know, this thief is closer than you thought.

TAGLIST. [Networks] @czennienet @neowritingsnet @dreamwritersnet @nct-writers

Being one of the famous detective closest childhood friends do have its perks; such as him taking you to every case he works on to sharing secrets about a mysterious Black Organization that keeps targeting him. But of course, you’d promised to keep all that information to yourself as well as helping him with preventing the others from finding out. He didn’t want to worried them than they already were now.

Tonight was the grand opening of the museum which location that you found rather odd; it’s built quite far from the city where, you have to admit, wasn’t really your usual construction site for historical museums and people that invited to the grand opening were no other than conglomerates.

The only reason for you—an normal high school student with no power or status—to be invited to the celebration was because of a certain famous detective who wanted to tagged you along. But, he’s already gone off into the sea of guests, leave you alone without knowing what to do. You tried to remember the phantom thief’s notice while looking around the room.

When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike, and steal the fallen star.

Paused in your tracks as you took a moment to process the riddle in the notice. ‘When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike… that means he’s coming when the sun sets.’ Your gaze travelled forward and landed on a glass case-located on the stage in the middle of the crowded room-covered under a thick, red cloth where the “Fallen Star” placed.

You furrowed your brows, something’s not right here. The notice was so straightforward, too straightforward for the phantom thief’s term. It must have some meaning behind the notice.

“[Name],” You turned around to saw Mark ran toward you. “Find anything suspicious?”

“Yeah. It’s about the-” You tried to tell him about the strange notice but was interrupted when a bearded-old-man, who is suspected to be the owner of the museum walks to the main stage where the Fallen Star been shown, spoke into the microphone that’s provided on stage. Claps can be heard from the guests as the light turn down low. Polices stand not far from the stage, guarding the necklace against any danger possibility.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming to the grand opening of Seoul Jewelry Museum. As for our tonight main event, we will see the famous Fallen Star.”

The red cloth fell onto the stage, revealing the clear glass case out in the open for all to see. But instead of cheers and clasps like earlier, numerous gasps and shocked murmurs escaped the large crowd. All the lights turn down, making the room completely dark. A familiar laugh can be heard around the room.

“Najaem!” The unspoken name in your mind was shouted by a man beside you whose voice belongs to none other than Mark.

“Ah, Mark Lee, it is good to see your lovely glare again,” You heard the phantom thief’s silk-smooth voice spoke. “And looks like you bring your beautiful companion too.”

“I’d love to stay for the rest of the celebration, but, I need to steal what I came here for tonight and take my leave.” Puffs of smoke flooded the room, making you cough as your vision blurred.

A hand snaked around your waist pulled you out from the sea of guests. When the smoke finally cleared and you’d regained your vision, you’re no longer in the ballroom. You were on the rooftop of the building, along with Najaem whose hand still around your waist.

“Najaem!? What…” You were speechless, completely didn’t understand the situation you in. He just smiled as he noticed the confused on your face.

Without wasting any more time, he cupped your face with his other hand and pressed his lips against yours. You swear your heart stops for a solid second before pounding wildly against your chest. You become paralyzed, lost in the feeling of the phantom thief’s soft lips and confusion. It was wrong, you know it was wrong to kiss the phantom thief in front of you, but at the same time, it felt right.

However, the moment had to ended by the loud bang of the door. This made the phantom thief let out a low ‘tch’, just like what he thought.

Mark pulled you away from Najaem, hiding you behind him protectively and ready to attack him. The phantom thief only smirked before activated his hang-glider.

“So long, [Name], until we meet again.” Were his last words before he jumped from the roof, leaving you and Mark alone on the rooftop.

“Are you okay?” Worried, Mark asked you.

You touched your lips where the warm sensation of the phantom thief’s lips still lingering, blushed at the thought that Jae just stole your first kiss. But in the middle of your action, you felt something under your other empty palm.

You curled your fingers around it and held it up for you to examine. It… was a rose. You pulled it closer to you and that’s when you noticed that there was a piece of paper of some sort taped to the stem of it.

When we meet again, I will not only steal your kiss. But a whole you. ‘Till we meet again, my Fallen Star.

After the incident with the phantom thief that claimed you as his in the previous heist, Mark seems can’t leave you alone and became more protective than usual. To make it worse, the inspector for Seoul district was actually elated, saying that they could use you as a weapon against the young thief which means your assistance will be needed for the phantom thief’s next heist. Even though you don’t want to be the bait, you still didn’t have any choices—Mark promised to always stay by your side, to make sure nothing happens to you.

That morning, instead of greeting your deskmate with your usual smile, you slumped on your desk with a tired groan. Snicker was his only response as he looked at your state. “Looks like you have a bad day. Care to share some story?”

“It’s actually worse than you thought, Nana.” You turned your head to looked at Jaemin, your deskmate, with a pout as you remembering how your life has just turned into a hell in one night.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder, how can your sweet deskmate kinda reminded you of the Phantom Thief Jae. Despite the similar name—the one you gave him before you changed it to “Nana” per his request, Jaemin who sit beside you is far different from that flirt phantom thief. He is a total introvert (though he looks more like extrovert than you) with zero filters, never without coffee in his hand every morning, constant hugs, cute smiles, and has a soft spot for Park Jisung, the freshman in the first year.

The only same trait that you can see from your friend with the phantom thief is only how he can be a flirt sometimes. But still, there is no way your sweet deskmate is the phantom thief just because of how flirty he can be, especially with you.

“Is it really that bad until Mark hyung can’t stop watching you from far?” Jaemin raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head toward the door.

Without turning your head to where Jaemin pointed, you already knew what he means. You can only let a tired sigh.

Mark was watching you from outside the class.

“He has been doing that since the night that phantom thief kis-” You halted the sentence, earning a curious stare from Jaemin. The thought of the phantom thief kissed you made your face turned red.

“He what?” Jaemin who noticed the sudden shyness gave you a teasing look.

“Um… nothing. Just forget it.”

Oh God, you almost spill the embarrassing detail. You still could heard Mark’s nagging you about being so defense less in front of a boy. Not just any boy, but the phantom thief who known as flirtatious and womanizer. Therefore, there is no need for anyone else to know about the kiss incident.

“Uh-hu. What did that phantom thief do, huh?”

Great, now he will not stop pestering you about it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whined with red cheeks.

When you and Jaemin out from the class for the lunch break, Mark decided to join you two, saying that he needs to keep you safe though there was no way the phantom thief will be in your school. He kept talking about it with Jaemin all the way to the canteen, which you didn’t mind.

But, that’s where you were wrong.

You never expected to saw a familiar piece of paper that taped to the stem of the familiar rose inside your locker, just right when you about to put your books. A doodle of a phantom thief can be seen at the corner of the paper, clearly telling the world that the flower indeed from the phantom thief.

On the night the door between death and life opened, like Julius Caesar kneeling down in front of Queen Cleopatra, I will come to you to completely finish what I started.

A little warning for you, don’t be deceived by what you see before you. The shell always different from what stored inside it.

The thought of him might be around you made your heart fluttered. Seems like he never fails to surprise you. You looked around to find any sign of the phantom thief where being, however, there was no sign of him. Seems like the simple little gift from him made your day, well, much better. Though you want to hate him for the kiss, you can’t stop smiling by the small notice. You shouldn’t be affected by whatever the phantom thief tried to do, yet your heart already damaged already beyond repair by him.

Hate to admit it, but you might have fall a little for him.

“[Name], what’s wrong?” You abruptly close your locker before Mark could see it, surprising two boys behind you. “Did I just see a rose inside your locker?”

“It’s nothing!” You answered rather quickly, pushing Mark away from your locker.

The detective looked at you suspiciously before decided to shrug it off, thinking that it may be from an admire and you’re just too embarrassed to show it.

While busy pushing Mark away, you failed to notice the smirk on Jaemin’s face as he followed the two of you from behind.

“Hurry up before we don’t get lunch, Nana!”

“I’m right just behind you two, you know.”

If only you know the truth.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #nct-writers #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin scenarios #na jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader

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bytheangell · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I loved a lot your last Gabrily fic, and if you are still open to requests can I suggest one about them finding out they were having another kid so long after the other two? Baby Alexander barely gets mentioned eventhough he is the person Alec is named after, maybe at some point he did something great who know. I always find it curious how they reactions could have been to have another one so long after Christopher.. Ofc if this sits right with you and feel like it, thank uu

Breaking the News (Read on AO3)

Cecily is thankful that Will and Tessa agreed to take Anna and Christopher to stay with them for the remainder of the day. Her thoughts bounce wildly from nervous to excited to total panic and everything in-between as she paces back and forth across the bedroom floor. Alone in the house until Gabriel arrives home in a few short hours, she wanted the time to come to terms with the news she got that morning and sort through her thoughts. Now that she has the time, she can’t sort through anything at all.

It doesn’t help that she’s been sick. That was the first hint that something was wrong, she suspected what may be the cause of her sudden recurring nausea and weakness, though she hardly dared to believe it. After spending the better part of the past week exhausted and obviously ill, Anna brought one of the Institute’s healers around to check on her, which was when they confirmed what she already partially guessed.

Except now that Cecily knows for certain that she’s pregnant with her third child, it’s quite the shock to process, with or without the distractions of two other children in the house.

She knows her initial doubts are mostly from the surprise of it all. Cecily likes being in control, and this is something she has no control over. This is happening, whether she wants it to or not, and even though she knows it’s a blessing the fact that she didn’t specifically choose to do this here and now throws her entire sense of being off-balance, enough for doubt to creep in. What if it isn’t just shock?

But that’s absurd. She loves her children, and she loved - and still loves - every moment of raising them. The chance to do all of that again is, while still a shock, a happy one. At least, it will be once she manages to get back in control of her racing thoughts and emotions.

Anna and Christopher are both teenagers now, sixteen and thirteen respectfully, and that fact isn’t lost on her. A new baby means 24/7 attention, days of constant needs and care that she thought were behind her. What if she thinks she can handle it but once the child is here she grows too overwhelmed tending to a newborn and two teenagers? Realizations like this are when the fear kicks in - she’s 37 years old, after all, and Gabriel 40.

Gabriel. What if he thinks them both too old to have a baby now? What if he hates the idea? It’s another reason she asked her brother to take the children - this is a conversation she wants them to have complete privacy for, just in case…

...just in case what?, she chides herself. This is Gabriel, after all. She remembers the years they spent together figuring out how to be parents to two wildly different children, remembers how good he was - and still is - with each of them, and how he’s never shown them anything other than unwavering love and devotion. This won’t be any different, she reminds herself, pushing the fear aside and allowing the nervous excitement to take over again.

She remembers the joy of raising Christopher and Anna, of watching them grow and learn and take their first steps and get their first runes… the joy of little moments and milestones she thought were long over for her. Anna is always so good with her brother, and Cecily can already imagine how wonderful Christopher will be as an older sibling, always so eager to teach others about his experiments. He could teach so much to a little brother or sister.

Cecily can only hope they’re as eager to have another sibling as she is to give them one.

Nervous. Excited. Fearful. Happy. Concerned. Eager. Her emotions shift and change more rapidly than she can keep up with until, finally, they settle along with her thoughts into one: contentment. This is happening, whether she’s ready for it to or not, and she’ll be damned if she isn’t going to make the absolute best of it.

When Gabriel finally arrives home he finds her in their bedroom, pacing as she’s been doing off-and-on for hours now as she tries to work out the best way to break the news.

“Cecily?” he greets her, voice uncertain. He’s been away in Idris but came back earlier than planned after hearing she hasn’t been feeling well. “Is everything alright? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Gabriel takes a few steps into the room and reaches a hand out to still her anxious movements, resting it gently on her shoulder.

Cecily stops pacing and forces a small smile onto her face. “There will be plenty of time for resting soon,” she says cryptically. “And whether or not everything is alright depends largely on how you feel about…” she wonders briefly if there’s a good way to phrase this, or at least a better way than simply blurting it out.

It’s a pity that tact and gentle phrasing has never been one of Cecily’s strong suits.

“...about having another child,” she finishes, carefully watching his expression.

It’s difficult to decipher much beyond Gabriel’s absolute shock, which is fair. She’s still a bit shocked herself and she’s had hours to process the news. His hand remains on her shoulder and she feels the grip of it tighten ever so slightly.

“Just to be clear,” Gabriel says cautiously. “You’re saying this simply because you want to have another child, or because-”

“Because I’m pregnant,” she confirms.

A silence falls between them then. Cecily can see the wheels turning in Gabriel’s mind, the way his eyes shift constantly from her face to her stomach to the room around them as he processes this information, and it takes all of what little self-control Cecily possesses to allow him that time.

“You’re pregnant,” he finally repeats, and then, very slowly, his lips curl up into an eager smile. “That’s wonderful!”

“It is?” Cecily asks, the words slipping out in a rush of relief after she’d mentally prepared herself for the worst possible reaction.

“Isn’t it?” Gabriel counters, sounding suddenly unsure of his reaction.

“I mean, yes, of course, it is! But we’re not exactly in our prime, and it isn’t as if we planned this, or anticipated the possibility the way we had with Anna and Christopher. I just thought… I know it’s silly but I was afraid you might…” Cecily struggles to find the words for the fears that are suddenly rendered baseless in her mind.

“Cecily, my dear, sweet Cecily,” Gabriel says, wrapping his arms around her to pull her in close to him, mindful not to pull too tightly. “I love you, and I love our family, and any addition to it is nothing other than a blessing, no matter how unexpected.” He moves to hold her just far enough away to lean in and place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Cecily feels a few errant tears make their way down her cheeks in both joy and relief.

“I feel the same,” she agrees. “And I knew you would, too. I just needed to hear you say it. Since I found out this morning all I could do was build it up in my head - we worked so hard to give Anna and Christopher stability and routine with their studies and training and this is going to upend all of that.”

“Do you think they’ll be upset?” Gabriel asks.

Cecily can only shrug. “I don’t know. I hope not, but… it is a big change. And it’ll be attention away from them, no matter how hard we try not to let it be. I just don’t want them to resent the baby, or us.”

“They won’t,” Gabriel says with a confidence Cecily wishes she felt. “Do you know how I know?”

The question should be rhetorical but he waits for an answer anyway, so Cecily asks, “How?”

The hand on her shoulder squeezes again, comforting as a knowing smile spreads across her husband’s face. “Because they’re our children, and we - you in particular - raised them to be the sort of people who have compassion and understanding, even as unruly teenagers. They’re going to adjust just fine - we all are.”

Cecily hadn’t anticipated the tears that now overwhelm her after such an emotional day, shed now for words of such simple kindness.

“Thank you,” Cecily says, shaking her head slowly. “For always knowing exactly what I need to hear.”

“Well, you make it easy when you’re always so effortlessly deserving of praise,” Gabriel counters, lifting his hand to wipe away a few stray happy tears. “I suppose I should wait until we tell the others before I go rearranging the whole house, shouldn’t I? We’ll have to make a few changes… clear out a room, set aside a bit more savings, arrange for me to be home with you for the foreseeable future, of course…”

As Gabriel begins to rattle off the things that come to mind for the immediate future, Cecily is struck by how incredibly lucky she truly is to have him by her side. He doesn’t miss a beat in figuring out how to rearrange his own life and habits to better tend to her and support their growing family. He doesn’t make so much as a passing mention of what an imposition such sudden changes will inevitably have on him.

“We’ll figure it out,” Cecily says, reaching out to take his hand in her’s. His own easy acceptance bleeds into her, calming her nerves and bringing a smile to her face. She thought those words over and over throughout the day, but this is the first time she thinks them without doubt and voices them with equal surety. They will figure it out. Together. “We have time, nothing has to be done or decided today.”

She glances at the clock. “In fact, perhaps we should enjoy the next hour or two to ourselves before Will and Tessa bring the children back. I’m sure once we tell them we won’t know a moment’s peace until months after the baby’s born,” she points out with a light laugh.

“I don’t know if you’re referring to your brother or the children,” Gabriel says. “Though I daresay it applies to the lot of them.”

Cecily rolls her eyes. “Oh, come now. You know I meant-” she begins, but stops abruptly. “No, you’re right. Will is going to be insufferable.”

Now it’s Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “We’ll face that inevitability when it comes. Right now, if I know you you’ve likely been stressed and wearing yourself out all day with worry. Let’s get you some proper rest before we break the news.”

It isn’t the sort of quiet, alone time she’d meant, but the moment he suggests it she knows it’s exactly what she needs. He always knows exactly what she needs. To her surprise, instead of tucking her in and going downstairs he gets into bed beside her, pulling her against his side, and she allows his warm, comforting presence to lull her into the best rest she’s had in days.

#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #tsc #SORRY THIS TOOK ME A MILLION YEARS #but I hope you like it!#honestly I re-wrote it about a dozen times because I kept changing how I thought they'd react #and this could probably go quite a few ways but this is the one i ended up with #and i hope you like it! <3 #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #anon glamour activated #ask rune #elle talks too much

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heejinnien · 3 years

Text

b.christopher | last light

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: “To whoever loves you next, I hope that you’ll accept and cherish them like you never did for me.”

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak

author’s note: hello, i’m back with another fic! i had this idea a while ago and recently found it in my phone’s notes. so, instead of doing my apes homework, i decided to write this lovely piece here. i hope you enjoy!

cross posted to ao3 here

As you push open the door to your penthouse, the only sound is your heels against the cold, marble floor.

The room is dark, and you fumble around for a few minutes before finally locating and flipping on the light switch. The room is cold and empty, and uneasiness settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chan?”

You are greeted with nothing but the echo of your voice, taunting you. A slight frown settles on your lips as you move further into the large living room connected to the front foyer.

Now that you are out of the foyer, light streams into the living area. You are greeted with the gorgeous view of the city that would normally take your breath away, the back wall constructed entirely out of glass and one of the things you love most about your home. The sun is setting, golden rays framing the steel and glass of the city’s buildings.

A small kitchenette is staged off to your right, and you set your purse down on the counter located in the center, eyes scanning the room for any sign of your soulmate’s presence.

The last you had seen of your soulmate was a few days ago, before you had left for an important business trip. Ruminating on the memory, you recall the way Chan’s smile hadn’t quite met his eyes, the coolness of his lips on your cheek, details that you had brushed aside and replaced in the forefront of your mind with the itinerary of your trip.

The uneasiness that had begun to settle before now twists in your stomach, making it impossible for you to ignore its presence. You venture deeper into the penthouse, checking the other rooms and repeatedly calling your soulmate. Still, the only sound that greets you is your own, and the only things that greet you are cold, empty rooms.

You pull out your cell phone, subconsciously chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s a bad habit that you had developed in college, something Chan pointed out multiple times. You quickly ring the aforementioned person’s number, but you are quickly sent to voicemail. Chan’s cheery voice blasts from your phone’s speakers, informing you that he is “currently unavailable, but will return your call ASAP as possible.”

Your lips quirk as Chan’s giggles filter through your phone’s audio. You were with him when he recorded it. He had just finished watching all of the episodes of The Office, and he had insisted that he include that in his voicemail.

The memory makes your heart wrench. That was one of the many things that you and Chan had disagreed on. He was quirky and loved to crack jokes, while you were serious. Jokes had no place in your world, a world of cutthroat business and robot-like efficiency.

On numerous occasions, you had wondered why the universe had deemed you soulmates, and not just in the metaphorical sense. His name was tattooed in an elegant script on your wrist, a design you had long since memorized and could trace in your sleep.

You recall your first meeting, nostalgia filling you.

You had recently graduated from college and begun an internship with a local business firm in the city. Before, you had lived in the rural outskirts of your country, and you were nervous about living in a new place.

You were running late that day, you recall. Your alarm hadn’t gone off so you had woken up an hour later than usual. You were running through the city streets, repeatedly glancing down at your phone and watching the clock increase with growing anxiety. You had just passed the outside of a coffee shop and were gripping your phone tightly in both hands, preparing to send a message to another intern and asking them to inform your boss that you’d be late when you ran into him.

It was like slamming into a wall, and before you could register what was happening pain was radiating from your chin all the way down to your ankles. You stumbled backwards, arms wildly flailing in an effort to keep yourself upright when a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked.

You had stopped your descent backwards but the new force caused you to change momentum, your body suddenly hurtling forward. You slammed into the same wall as before, this time the impact not as jarring. As your senses began to orient, you became vaguely aware of a voice asking if you were okay.

“Hello? Are you alright?”

As soon as you realized the precarious position you were in, arms wrapped around an unknown man, you quickly jumped back, almost falling over backwards but managing to right yourself at the last moment. Your gaze travelled up on the man in front of you, from the chest you had been pressed against moments earlier to his warm, blue eyes.

As you locked eyes, it had felt as though the world melted away around you. In the present, you snort at that thought; you had never been particularly cheesy. For just a moment, it had been just you and this stranger. You had stared at him dumbly, heart racing, and that’s when you felt the itching sensation in your wrist.

It was minor at first, like an annoying bug bite and you ignored the itch, unwilling to move and scare away the man in front of you. The itch quickly grew to an unignorable burn, and you gasped and wrenched your jacket sleeve upwards.

There, on the previously unmarred skin of your wrist, was a name. You stared at it, disbelief coursing through your veins. There were stories of course, of people finding their soulmates, but nobody you knew had and you had written it off as an old fairytale.

“Christopher Bang.”

You hadn’t realized that you had read aloud until a voice answered, “Call me Chan.”

That moment wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

After you had both apologized profusely, you had exchanged numbers, and that was the beginning of your relationship.

Amidst your reminiscing you wander back into the kitchen, wondering if you should call one of Chan’s friends, maybe Jisung or Minho. You set your phone on the counter, and as you do so you notice a white envelope on the otherwise barren surface that you had missed before. Written on it in an all too familiar script is your name, and you quickly rip it open, hands shaking as your eyes devour the letter’s contents.

Dear Y/N,

I still remember the first time we met, when you ran into me outside the coffee shop. (This makes you snort, as you distinctly remember that it was him that ran into you.) I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen before, and when I found out we were soulmates I felt as though I was the luckiest person in the universe.

Do you remember our first date? When I attempted to book a reservation downtown at the Noir, attempted being the key word here. When we arrived, the hostess told us that we didn’t have a reservation so we ended up eating at a pizza parlor down the block. Like in the movies, it started to rain, and by the time we both ended up by our cars we were drenched. And we kissed outside your car, and nothing could have been more perfect.

Two years later, I asked you if you wanted to marry me outside that same pizza parlor. By that time you had just begun your dream career while I was still drifting, unsure of my path in life. That didn’t matter to you, and we had a small wedding with just our closest friends and family. We were happy.

Are you still happy? You began to come home later and later, would go away for longer and longer periods of time. I saw how happy your job made you, and I tried my best to support you.

I’m not sure where along the way I gave up on us.

Somewhere along the way I realized that you would never love me like how I wanted. You were always away on business trips, and when we were together it was like you didn’t even want to be with me. The space between us grew until I couldn’t even see you anymore, and the girl I once loved was gone.

I’m not bitter about it. I do think that maybe the universe can be wrong about some things, that maybe our meeting wasn’t destined after all. That we were a fluke, a momentary lapse of judgement by the greater gods.

Maybe we’ll have another chance at love. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and I don’t regret meeting you. I hope from the bottom of my heart that you find happiness.

To whoever loves you next, I hope that you’ll accept and cherish them like you never did for me.

Chan

You stare at the letter, unable to process its contents. Your mind scrambles to form a coherent thought, and you don’t realize that you are crying until the letter is stained with a myriad of tears.

You snatch your phone up, quickly dialing Chan’s number before you can stop to think about your actions. Like before, the call goes to voicemail, and letting out a desperate sob you dial once again.

This time, a click informs you that someone has picked up. There’s a momentary pause, and then, “Y/N?”

“Chan,” you let out a relieved sob. “Where are you? Please, we can talk about this.” Chan remains silent, and you feel desperation twist inside your stomach. “Please, I’m sorry, I love you — ”

“Don’t do this,” Chan interrupts you, voice sharp. “Don’t do this, Y/N. It was hard enough to leave you, can’t you just leave me alone?”

Chan’s words act as a knife to your heart, twisting, twisting. “Please,” you whisper, voice almost inaudible, and you wonder if the phone can hear you, if Chan can hear you.

“I’m sorry,” Chan’s voice is ragged. “If you ever loved me, please don’t contact me again.”

Before you can let out another plea, your screen flashes to inform you that the call has ended. You let out an inhuman wail and sink to your knees, unable to find the strength to hold yourself up.

You sob, and whatever love you once had fades away with the last of the sun’s rays until you are shrouded in darkness.

#last light #stray kids chan #newskynet #destinyverse #angst #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #chan x reader #fanfiction

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atlas-tries · 4 years

Text

Shatter Me

A Patton angst fic by yours truly

Read on AO3

Summary: All the sides have secrets, but none have one as lethal as the one Patton is keeping. Can he keep it under wraps long enough to resolve it or will the trauma of it all spell his undoing?

Hey guys, so this has been a long time in the making (aka since January). But I finally got this finished and I’m very proud of how it turned out. This was all based on a simple headcanon I had about how Patton experiences emotional pain. I hope you enjoy it, and the next chapter will be out next Monday! Check the notes for definitive links to the next chapter.

Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but Words Hurt Far More Deeply

At some point or another, all the sides had kept secrets from each other.

Mostly, it had to do with where they had been in the past or something silly, like the time Roman “accidentally” ate all of Logan’s Crofters. The others still kept some, likely to make a well-placed or dramatic reveal of it, and Patton was no different. He himself occasionally had physical manifestations of emotional pain. However, there was one thing he knew that wasn’t a secret.

Patton knew how they all really felt about him.

Sentimental.

Overbearing.

Naive.

Worthless.

Even if they rarely said any of those descriptors out loud or in his presence, the unspoken words came through loud and clear every time they thought he would mess something up. Which was in almost every video he appeared in. They thought he didn’t notice the dismissive remarks or the eye rolls whenever he had any ideas to share when Thomas had an issue that needed working through. It’s just ol’ Patton spouting off whatever random thoughts and/or dad jokes pop up in his head like always.

For the most part, Patton could handle whatever emotional turmoil they threw at him. He knew that despite what they thought, they still cared about him and valued his opinions. The occasional pain was worth it if they were happy. And they were, especially after Thomas had introduced them to his online community of Fanders (the part that made him the happiest). Even Patton himself had been ecstatic to reach out to so many other kiddos out there. At least, he was until they had gotten in front of the camera.

Yeah, his jokes didn’t land with the others, it wasn’t a big deal. That was no different than telling them in the Mindscape on most days. However, he really wanted to do that four-part harmony when Roman suggested it, even after they immediately shot it down when he came in. But Patton could shake that off, too. He was strong. So, imagine his surprise when he discovered short, thin cracks radiating from over his heart when he was changing into his cat onesie that evening. “Oh,” he said, running his hand delicately over them, “That must’ve gotten to me a little more than I thought.” No matter, though, they always went away within a few days.

Everything went back to relative normal in short order and Patton was back to being a happy pappy. The next few videos came and went without much fanfare. He was even featured by himself to help Thomas with his adultery! There was nothing better than that. The cracks didn’t return until just before they started planning out The Mind vs. The Heart.

That morning, Patton had been making breakfast for everyone as he almost always did. This morning was especially pleasant for him because Thomas had actually listened to Patton yesterday when he suggested he go and pet all the puppies in the pet store on the way home. Having that thought at the forefront made it easy to softly sing to himself as the bacon sizzled. Roman was already eating his as fast as he could fancifully manage.

“Roman, I know my food is good, but please don’t choke up on your swallow through,” Patton said with a smile, taking the last batch of bacon out of the pan and putting it on a plate. Roman just nodded and kept doing exactly what he was doing. “Say, you didn’t happen to see Logan when you came down, did you?” Patton was getting a little worried about Logan. It was early, yes, but the logical side always made his appearance long before now.

“Haben’t sheen ‘im thish morning,” Roman said with a mouthful of pancake.

Patton hummed, set his and Logan’s plates on the table, and grabbed some forks. He sat down at the table, picking at the eggs a little. He would feel better about eating when Logan came. As if on cue, soft squeaks came from the staircase. “Huh, speak of the devil,” Roman mumbled. Patton immediately perked up.

“Good morning, Logan!” Patton shouted. Logan stopped at the bottom of the stairs and covered his ears.

“Too loud, Pat,” Logan grumbled, making his way slowly to the table.

Patton softly replied, “Sorry. I made breakfast.” He couldn’t help but notice the dark circles beneath Logan’s eyes as he approached; they were almost dark enough to rival Anxiety’s. Patton was very much hoping that Roman wouldn’t notice, if only to preserve the peace (and the rest of his good mood, but Patton didn’t want that to be the focus).

“Thank you.” Logan sat and went straight for the coffee, downing half of it in only a few seconds. So far, so good. “Ugh, aren’t I a little old for cat-shaped pancakes, Patton?”

Patton shook his head with a smile. “You’re never too old to have a Patton paw-ncake!” he said cheerily, batting a pawed hand in the air for emphasis.

“Wow, looks like someone’s been to the dark sides this morning. Can we get a bag check on Logan’s eyes?” said Roman, going for another mouthful of bacon.

Logan wasn’t amused. “I’m sorry some of us have to work overtime to make Thomas make the right decisions,” he spat. “Sometimes it’s like I’m the only adult here.” Patton felt that familiar pain ghost across his chest.

“Ex-cuse me, how dare you say such a thing, and when Padre was nice enough to make you breakfast! And anyways, you are NOT the only one who has to pull late nights, Snide and Prejudiced,” Roman countered.

Patton said, “It’s fine, Roman, ple—”

“Really?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Because it seems to me like you only keep Thomas up at ungodly hours fantasizing about the things you want.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“As the most important side, no, I don’t.”

“Oh well ex-cuuuuuuse me, Mr. President—”

From there it devolved into them shouting over each other. Roman slung eggs and syrup everywhere while wildly gesticulating. Logan kept smacking the table trying to make his points. Chocolate milk was going everywhere. They had never been so tense with each other.

“Um, kiddos?” Patton said. Neither of them heard him in the midst of their shouting match. “Kiddos?” he said a little louder, reaching out toward them. “Maybe if we just—”

“THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU, PATTON!” both of them yelled. Patton recoiled. Another crack split painfully across his chest. Both of them went back to screaming at each other. He couldn’t stand to see them like this, even if they were hurting him in the process. What else could he do but meet them at their level?

Patton stood abruptly and slammed his hands down on the table. “That’s ENOUGH, both of you!” he scolded. They instantly hushed, flustered and in awe that Patton could even raise his voice. He took a breath and calmly continued, “Roman, I appreciate you defending me like the noble Prince you are, but it’s okay. We know that Logan isn’t the only one that works the graveyard shift, but we shouldn’t make fun of the sides that do when they’re not in their best shape. And Logan, I know you’re tired, but—”

“Yes, from trying to mitigate the effects you had on Thomas yesterday,” Logan interrupted. “We almost adopted one of those puppies when we have neither the resources nor the time to look after one. And who was the one who had to convince him that it was a bad idea? Me!”

Even though Patton wasn’t sorry about that in the slightest, he still apologized. “You did the right thing, Logan. Why don’t you go back to bed for a little while? You’ve earned it,” Patton said. “I’ll even keep your breakfast warm for you.”

Logan nodded and left wordlessly, taking the coffee mug with him back up the stairs. With him gone, Patton looked to Roman. “You owe him an apology, mister,” said Patton.

“What? Me? He was the one being snippier than an Edward Scissorhands wannabe!” Roman cried.

“Well, you didn’t help that, now did you? But he also owes you an apology, too.” That garnered a little “oh” from the Prince. Patton sighed and took Logan’s plate to the oven, turning it on to the lowest setting.

“You know we would’ve worked it out on our own eventually, right?” Roman said. “This is just what we do.”

“I know,” Patton responded. “I think … I should start cleaning up. There’s chocolate milk everywhere.”

Roman nodded. “Okay, Padre. Is there … something I can help with, at least?” He got up and handed his mostly empty plate to Patton.

“Thanks, but I can handle it,” Patton said softly, voice barely above a whisper. He felt Roman’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at the Prince.

“You shouldn’t worry about us so much. We’ll be fine. And, uh, I promise I’ll make it up to the Grinch up there,” said Roman with a small smile.

We don’t need you smothering us.

Great! Now Patton’s thoughts were going to take it upon themselves to put translations after the other’s words! Patton tried to return a smile despite the pain in his chest growing. It must’ve convinced him because Roman, with a final pat on his shoulder, turned and left. As soon as Roman was completely out of sight, Patton rubbed at the cracks to try and soothe their aching. It never worked, but it made him feel a little less like a sad dad. Oh well. At least they’d disappear soon enough.

Or not.

A few days after Losing Motivation came out, Patton had once again busied himself in the kitchen, this time baking chocolate chip cookies while humming along to the Disney showtunes that Roman had playing in the living room. No doubt Thomas would have them stuck in his head by the end of the day. Not that it was a problem in Patton’s mind; the music really helped him ignore the constant throbbing pain that those ugly fractures left on his chest. Better to have Disney showtunes on the brain than a recent ex-boyfriend, right?

The oven timer let out a short ding! at the start of the chorus to Prince Ali. “Oh cookie, where would I be if you weren’t hooooot,” Patton sang over the lyrics. He danced over to the oven while putting on heart-patterned oven mitts. “So full of sweets from eating way more than I ouuuuggghhht. To.” He took the finished cookies out of the oven and twirled around to the music, kicking the door closed and sliding the baking sheet onto the stove in one smooth motion.

Patton made quick work of getting them off the baking sheet and onto a plate. “Cookies are ready!” he shouted. Quick, thundering steps met his cry and in seconds, Roman was in the kitchen juggling three.

“Don’t mind if I do, Pat,” said Roman. Fear never deterred Roman, not even when in the face of third degree mouth burns from oven-fresh cookies. Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of his son for being so brave (even if another part of him was terrified of Roman getting hurt). “Hanksh,” he said with a mouthful of molten cookie, pretending that it wasn’t actually too hot but still doing the hashafashafa thing to cool it down while he ate.

“You’re welcome, son,” Patton replied. He looked at the cookies and remembered why he was making them in the first place. Ever since Anxiety had made himself known, Patton had been trying to reach out to him. Sure, he was dark and broody and sometimes the others had a little trouble seeing how important his contributions were, but he wasn’t the villain that they made him out to be. Anxiety deserved to feel welcome, and that was something Patton would always advocate for.

He set a few of the cookies on another plate for the rest of the sides (and himself) and poured a glass of milk. “Anxiety’s gonna love this!” He picked the cookies and milk up and danced them out of the kitchen, making sure to pass by Logan on the way. Not that it was hard, he was almost always studying at the dining room table. “Hey Logan, do you wanna eat a cookie?” Patton sung to the tune of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

Logan glanced up from his book. “I would prefer not to as I am attempting to set a good example for Thomas by abstaining from sugar,” Logan responded.

“Ah. Well, more for me and Anxiety, then!” said Patton. “If you change your mind, there are some more in the kitchen.”

Logan put the book down and said, “Hold on, are you telling me you’re still intent on making friends with him?”

“Well, yeah, what’s so bad about that?” Patton asked.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you again. Anxiety has no place with us, Patton, and it’s time that you stop pandering to him. There’s a very good reason why he lives with … them, and not us.”

The little fissures began slowly spreading. Patton was getting good at keeping it under wraps. And under shirts. “Now Logan, just because he’s a little different from us doesn’t mean that he has bad intentions. Sure, he started out in a bad place, but who’s to say that he can’t grow out of that? Sometimes, people just need a push in the right direction to shine. Bright like a diamond~,” Patton sang the last part, which earned him a groan. “I promise, if I felt fishy about any of this, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Why would you feel like a fish? Do fish even feel?” Logan said, genuinely perplexed.

Patton sighed. “Gosh, words can be tough. What I mean is that I don’t feel bad about reaching out to Anxiety, not when he’s been reaching out to us in his own way. I don’t get the feeling that he means us harm.”

“But you have to admit that when it comes to character judgement, you can be too forgiving,” Logan said.

“… Is that a bad thing?” Patton quietly replied, wincing a little as the cracks splintered further.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Patton, are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Oh, no.

“Of … course I am!” Patton said. “I’m Morality, why wouldn’t I be feeling?”

Logan grunted and adjusted his glasses. “Let me rephrase that. Patton, moments ago, you clearly indicated you were in pain. Am I interpreting this cue correctly?”

“Um …” Patton stalled. Maybe it was time to tell someone about this; it wasn’t like he could keep hiding it forever. With a sigh, he replied, “Yeah.” Oh no no no no, he couldn’t do this.

Logan stood there silently for a few moments before realizing that no explanation was going to come out of him without prompting. “Would you care to explain what’s causing it? I can perform first aid if necessary,” he said, stepping toward Patton.

Patton backed away and put his hands up. “I’m alright, really. It’s just … a little heartburn is all. You know me, not waiting until the cookies are cool to start munchin’! It should go away soon,” he replied. He couldn’t describe how badly he wanted to get out from under Logan’s scrutiny.

“If that’s all, then, here,” Logan conjured some Tums, “please take two of these.” He offered the bottle to Patton, who took it with a smile.

“Thank you, Logan, where would we be without you?” said Patton. He took some out of the bottle and made a show of chewing them up. Even if he didn’t really need them, he wanted to be sure that Logan felt listened to.

“What is that on your neck?” Logan asked, gesturing on himself where he thought he saw something.

“Hmm?” Patton felt around in that general area, squeaking softly when he felt a small but deep fracture across his skin. How did he not notice that before? Quick, Patton, think of something! “It’s uh … it’s chocolate!”

Logan’s eyes narrowed again. “Chocolate?”

Patton smiled. “Yeeeaahhhh, I must’ve gotten chocolate on myself when I was making these cookies. Silly me,” he lied, waving a dismissive hand. Well, it wasn’t totally a lie; he did still have some chocolate on his hands.

That seemed to sate the logical side. “Very well then, be sure to wash that off. And I know that no matter what I say, you’re still going to take your cookies to Anxiety. Just, please be careful around him, no matter how he makes you feel. We do still need you to help keep Thomas functioning normally,” said Logan.

“Thank you, Logan, I appreciate that. I promise I’ll be careful,” Patton said with a smile. Logan gave him a curt nod and went back to his studies. Some of the pain subsided with that last comment, which Patton was very grateful for. If it had been anywhere near what it was before, he couldn’t have done what he had set out to do without cuing Anxiety on to his problems. With as much of a smile as he could muster, Patton picked up the cookies and milk and headed down to Anxiety’s room. Thankfully, Logan didn’t notice him adjusting his cardigan along the way.

Patton always thought it was odd that the doorway to the darker side of Thomas’s mind would be inside the broom closet at the end of the hall. In another way, it made a lot of sense when he thought about it a little harder. Anything he wanted hidden would be stowed in here for safe keeping until he was ready to confront it. Plus, it made an excellent visual pun that made Patton giggle every once in a while. He opened the door, carefully balancing the plate on his arm.

“Let’s see, last time I made two rights, a left at the weird eyeball painting that stares at you, another right, then a left, and it’s the last door on the left,” Patton mumbled to himself as he walked through the dark side’s labyrinthine corridors. “Please let there be no spiders this time.”

In between the first two rights, a yellow-gloved hand slithered its way around the edge of the corner in front of Patton, making him stop dead in his tracks. No no no, not now! “Well well well, if it isn’t Morality,” Deceit stepped out in front of Patton, “have you finally decided to join us AND bring us cookies? I know we would all be devastated if you did.” His ever-present smirk seemed even more delighted than normal.

“Um, no. I’m just bringing Anxiety some cookies like I’ve been doing for a while now. You know that,” Patton replied. This definitely wasn’t making him uneasy.

“Indeed I do, and I also know something else.” Deceit strode forward until he was uncomfortably close. “You’ve been hiding something I find to be … most exquisite. If you keep that up, you’re liable to put me out of a job. Tell me, how long do you think you can play my game but keep me away from the field? Or even better,” he slowly circled Patton, eyes ever trained on him, “how long do you think you can keep their prying eyes away from your little secret?” He gently touched the center of Patton’s chest, which made him hiss and nearly drop the cookies and milk.

Patton had to take a moment to catch his breath. “I refuse to … make this their problem,” he gasped. He could’ve sworn he saw a few glowing drops of his essence through his shirt where Deceit’s finger had been.

“Oh, of course you don’t. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that one. They’re obviously trying to hurt you by saying and doing all of these little things and telling them this would only make them want to do it more,” Deceit said, coming to stop in front of Patton.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to look out for me in your … own way and I appreciate it, but please, Dee … I can’t tell them this. It would break them even more than it’s breaking me— and I won’t have it.”

Deceit’s smile faded. “You don’t want to listen to reason? Fine. But I leave you with this,” he shook a finger and slowly began sinking out, “what would hurt them more: the others finding out about this now or the others finding out about this when you’re in itty. Bitty. Pieces?” His last words echoed through the empty halls, chilling Patton to his core.

He knew Deceit was right, in his own roundabout way. That was one of his greatest assets: he was a brilliant analyst despite his airs, one that could keenly rival Logan’s perceptive inclinations. It was also what Patton dreaded about him. He couldn’t hide anything from Deceit, not that there was much he could do to hide all the cracks given how many there were.

“No!” Patton said to himself. This wasn’t the time for getting absorbed in thoughts! This was supposed to be bonding-with-his-precious-anxious-baby time, gosh darn it, and he was not going to waste any more time thinking about all the things that were hurting him! Putting on his best determined dad face, Patton quickly marched toward Anxiety’s room.

Before he could get too far, though, he saw Anxiety’s familiar, brooding figure lurking through the halls. He perked up almost imperceptibly when he saw Patton coming. “Oh, there you are. Not like I was worried about you being late or anything,” he said, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

Patton just smiled, relieved that Anxiety hadn’t noticed the little, slightly glowing stains on the front of his shirt. “Of course not. Shall we?” he replied. Anxiety nodded.

The two shared a nice, albeit short, time in Anxiety’s room talking through everything they could. Anxiety’s particular favorite seemed to be picking through Disney movies (or really any movie) to find all of the dark origins or morbid underlying themes they held. While Patton liked being able to spend time with Anxiety, the combination of being in his room for longer than around half an hour and the negative talk were lying heavily on his chest. Still, he never let it show that those cracks were slowly spider-webbing across his skin.

By the end of the day, every step was a Herculean task for Patton. He barely made it back to his room without stumbling. Still, there was one last thing to be done: survey the damage he had accrued. He trudged into the bathroom and grasped the sink with shaking arms, head hanging heavily. “Alright, head up on three, Patton. One, two, three,” he said, letting go of the sink and looking up in the mirror. Despite his weathered appearance, not much could be seen with his shirt still on aside from two small fractures that forked up either side of his neck. The few that had made it past his sleeves were so thin that he didn’t even notice them at first. Patton sighed. He really didn’t want to look at the epicenter of the damage. “Right after this, you can go to bed,” he bartered with his reflection. He gently lifted the hem of his shirt up and nearly fainted from what he saw.

The cracks at the center of Patton’s chest had turned more into chasms where his skin had chipped away like broken porcelain. His essence shone through, now a raging blue storm that threatened to break through the invisible barrier where his skin should be. From there, the light bled through into the smaller fissures that spanned his entire torso, front and back. He knew it was bad, but it had never been to this extent. He gently touched the edge of the center break and accidentally dipped his finger into the blue fluid. The tears he had repressed welled up in his eyes, spurred on by a jolt of raw emotion. Patton quickly wiped the fluid off onto his pants. The tears no longer had any driving force behind them.

“Oh Patton, you’ve got to remember not to do that,” he once again told his reflection. He had forgotten how much emotional sway his essence had when he touched it. Patton knew he couldn’t keep the happy act up like this. So, what else could he do but make himself as scarce as possible until it healed at least a little bit?

And that’s exactly what he did.

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #patton sanders #long post #this first chapter is a little more than 4000 words #which honestly that's just a tiny chunk in comparison to what i have written #shatter me #shatter me story

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

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WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter five: dark vibrations

word count: 11.4k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: body horror, hallucinations (?), mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide. spooky scary activities ensue. elliot has an increasingly difficult time keeping a grasp on reality. we knew this was gonna happen, though!

notes: howdy! i hope y’all enjoy this. sometimes i go weeks without updating and sometimes i wait like, 4 days before manically writing an entire chapter. you know how it be like that sometimes. i was feeling a bit more inspired and felt like i finally hit a groove on where this story was going, which i think definitely helped, and i hope you all enjoy it!

thank you, as always, to everyone who reads, likes/comments, even if you just come into my dms with two nice words or write something nice in your tags; it really does make my whole night to see even one person enjoying anything i’ve made. <3

Cold morning light filtered in through the window, drenched in wedding-silk grays thanks to the wintery cloud-cover. Everything in the room looked to be placed with absolute intent and care; polished, porcelain-white decor in elaborate geometrics, gold accents, a king-sized bed with impeccably pressed sheets. Truthfully, John had thought for certain he’d come back into the house to be informed by Elliot’s statuesque mother that, in fact, she had rescinded her offer to let him stay and actually, he would need to depart immediately, lest the authorities be called.

He was glad that it hadn’t come to that, of course, because it would’ve been such a shame to have to dampen Scarlet’s opinion of her own daughter so quickly into their meeting.

Dropping his small bag of belongings—the manila folder packed full of information, including his own scribbled notes; the burner phone; a few quickly-packed clothes that had been meticulously cycled to avoid the most long-term wear—John paused as the heat in the house kicked on with a delicate whirr.

Everything in Scarlet Honeysett’s home seemed to be precisely the shape and color that she liked, with not a single thing out of place; and yet, as the heat kicked on, he was certain that he could hear the sound of sharp, hushed voices downstairs, a little ripple in the woman’s perfect, arcadian home scene.

It was good. It felt good, to be here. To have gotten the upper hand. So much of the past weeks he’d spent with Elliot had felt like he was slowly, violently spiraling out of control, but this? She was here, and she had to play by his rules for once, and—

And he’d wanted just one more second alone, with her. To watch the way her eyes flickered over his face, to drink in the way her chin tilted up in defiance but not unlike the way she used to do it when she was waiting for him to kiss her, the same lovely high-color in her spreading along her cheekbones and the same little spark in her gaze. Whether it was anger or allure was neither here nor there, anymore; with Elliot, they were interchangeable, a stepping stone one way or another, just the way it had always been with them.

Because John liked her anger. He liked her wrath. He wanted to put his hands on it, his mouth on it, break it into pieces and wring it out of her and put it back and do it all over again, while she said his name, his name, and not anyone else’s. God, she’d been so fucking close—so close, and he couldn have just had her if he really wanted to, grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her when the sting of her slap was still fresh on his face. She liked when he did that; kissed her, like he was starved for her. Because he was starved for her, and then she could knot her fingers into his shirt or dig her nails into his skin or whatever it was she wanted to make him desperate.

The sound of excited barking downstairs broke him out of his thoughts. John blinked, taking one last swift look-over of the immaculate room his mother-in-law had decided to put him up in before he nudged his bag beneath the bed and stepped out into the hallway.

To say old money would be almost an understatement. Surely, this house had to have some kind of historical significance; it was several stories, with one of those grand staircases that was wide going up, hit a landing, and then split to either side of the house. As he made his way down, he caught sight of the flicker of Scarlet’s silk robe in the kitchen; music drifted out of it, the same kind of hazy, older music that Elliot had turned on in her mother’s house back in Hope County.

“Stop moving,” Elliot was saying to Boomer, strapping him into a little reflective vest that sat on him like a saddle blanket. For a second, she didn’t notice his presence—or willfully ignored it; he couldn’t say for sure one way or another—and instead focused on the Heeler, rubbing his ears and kissing the bridge of his nose. A tiny little smile ticked the corners of her mouth, and he thought he heard her say, so handsome, best boy, yes you are.

Boomer’s attention snapped to John, now at the foot of the stairs. He let out one sharp, accusatory bark (could dogs sound accusatory, John wondered, or was that just Elliot getting to him?), and what little of his hackles were visible from out under the vest spiked up instantly.

“Good to see you too, beastie,” John greeted him, trying to ignore the way the hound’s low-pitched, reverberating growls made his skin crawl. Flashes of Boomer’s numerous and vicious takedowns of not only Eden’s Gate members but at least one member of the Family that had the misfortune of having chained the dog up darted across his memory, like a flipping through a photo album.

“Don’t talk to him,” Elliot snipped, cupping Boomer’s ears protectively. “I don’t need him getting the idea we’re friendly.”

John rolled his eyes. “More than friendly, I’d say.” His eyes darted over her, drinking in once against the shock of her appearance—red hair, so fucking red that every time he looked at her it was almost like staring at a stranger until he took in the rest, the freckles smattering her nose and the flush in her cheeks, cupid’s-bow lips that were glossed. Had he ever seen Elliot with more than river-soaked mascara on before?

The woman shot him a look, dry and unamused, coming to a stand. He asked, “Going for a walk?”

“Trying to,” she replied tartly, “but someone is evil enough that Boomer doesn’t trust them.”

“We’re pals,” John offered pleasantly. “Me and the beast. You know, were, anyway. He probably just needs to spend a little time with me.”

“Speaking from personal experience, more time makes you less palatable.”

“Let me come on the walk with you,” he tried again, letting her little barbs and jabs roll right off of him, water skating off of his feathers. At this point, he really quite enjoyed her venom; it was familiar. “I’m sure we’ve got plenty to catch up on.”

Elliot eyed him warily, eyes giving him a scathing once-over—eerily reminiscent of her mother’s own disdainful look, and now he thought, ah, yeah, that is where she gets it from, then—as her mouth twisted around whatever it was she wanted to say but wouldn’t let herself. Something too vicious for Scarlet to overhear, perhaps. The threats she’d made in the past had been wildly colorful, but each second that Ell spent considering her words more carefully rather than saying whatever it was she felt with her eyes darting to the kitchen was another second that John became more aware of how little Scarlet actually knew.

“Fine,” Elliot said at last, her eyes narrowing. “I suppose that we do. Mama, we’re leavin’.”

The little quirk of an accent at the end of her sentence made him swallow back a laugh. He’d barely heard that Georgia accent back in Hope County, but maybe spending time with her mother had reinspired it.

“Alright,” Scarlet said, drying her hands on a towel as she stood in the doorway. Her eyes glanced between them, inquisitive for a moment, before she said, “Be quick. Doctor’s appointment in an hour and a half.”

John tilted his head. “Oh? Baby check-in?”

“Can’t imagine what else it would be, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet idled. “Are you familiar with the process of pregnancy?”

“Not beyond the knowledge of a man, I’m afraid.”

“Well, allow me to educate you,” the blonde said, her voice light. “When a woman is carrying a baby, she has to make frequent visits to the doctor, to ensure that all is well. Can’t have anything going wrong with the baby, you know.”

John steadied the intake of breath so that it did not sound so abrupt. He would have done a double-take and thought perhaps she was just overbearing, and not attempting to insult him, were Elliot not smiling. Certainly, only her mother’s attempted insult of him could elicit such an expression out of her.

“Then my arrival was fortunately timed,” he announced. “I look forward to it.”

“And you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Elliot cut in, her humor fading. “You won’t be coming.”

Ah, yes. That’s why I don’t love her attitude. “That’s absurd,” he replied, incredulous. “It’s nearly six weeks, and I haven’t seen a single ultrasound of our baby.”

He was careful, this time, to keep it to our baby. He’d seen the way Elliot’s expression tightened when he’d said my baby, even though that’s what came so naturally to him now, being that they were hardly on the same team—but he’d seen it, that look in her eye, the way she’d squared her shoulders like she’d suddenly been ready to go at him.

Only one thing to do with a rabid dog, Jacob had said, not two days before they found Elliot drenched in another man’s blood in the woods.

John half-expected Scarlet to jump in, to say that it was the father’s right to be there; she was more traditional than Elliot, if her comment about wedlock or her insistence of him staying were anything to go by, but when he turned his gaze to her, the older woman’s expression was devoid of any sympathy. Typical of Honeysett women, he was coming to find.

“If she doesn’t want you there, then you won’t be there. I won’t have my daughter stressed out,” Scarlet told him. “Stress is bad for the baby. Surely that falls within the realm of what a man knows about babies, Mr. Seed?”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Surely.”

“Good. Hour and a half, my beloved, do not be late.”

That a woman had become so capable of tacking the softness of my beloved onto something that verged on a threat was nearly beyond John—would have been, certainly, were he not accustomed to Isolde’s particular brand of venom that was not so unlike Scarlet Honeysett’s.

“I won’t,” Elliot promised. “Can you call the handyman? My TV’s been acting up lately. Turning on static and whatnot.”

“Fine,” Scarlet replied, waving her hand. “I’ll have them come out this afternoon.”

Elliot turned on her heel and opened the front door out into the frigid morning, letting Boomer dart out ahead of her and not waiting for him in the least. He fell into step beside her easily, shrugging into his coat halfway out the door as it clicked shut behind him; she trudged through the snow, passing the garbage can and opening the gate that led out into what had once been pastureland and towards the woods.

It was the same fence that she’d been standing at, early that morning, face lax and serene. If the return to the fence bothered her at all, it didn’t show on her face any more than her irritation at having him there.

“Your mother’s quite...” John’s voice trailed off. “Tall.”

“Mm.”

“Statuesque, even.”

“Mmhm.”

“I get the feeling she doesn’t like me that much.”

“Yes,” Elliot acquiesced, her tone dripping with something close to venomous amusement, “I’ve never seen her take so poorly to someone so quickly before.”

“I suppose I should be flattered.”

“You would be.”

A fourth of the way into the snowy pasture and Boomer was far ahead of them, leaping like a little speckled gazelle in drifts of snow. It was easy to forget that the dog had been ready to rip him to shreds just a little under an hour ago (and once more, more recently). Still, as they trudged through a path that it seemed Elliot had worn through a few times before, John let out a little puff of breath and glanced over at her.

For just one second, she wasn’t spitting any venom at him, but rather seemed to favor the act of pretending like he wasn’t there, which was a bit worse than having her fix her fury on him. Her gaze was focused forward, following Boomer’s little lines in the snow. Attention at all was one thing, but acting as though he didn’t exist?

John said, “So, Burke just got his autopsy reports back and dropped you off right here at home, huh?”

Elliot’s face had already gone pink from the cold, right on her nose and spreading through her cheeks. At his words, a new flush of color rose, a shade more vicious than the last, and her gaze slid to him. If looks could kill, he thought, that dreamy little spike of delight at her eyes on him going straight to his head. Look at you, my little Wrath. You’ve got the good girl mask on, but I know what your true face is.

He’d seen it. Kissed her when the blood was still in her mouth. Let her feed the monster inside of her when she told him to beg, when she dug her nails into his skin, when her breath hitched in her chest from the pressure of his knife blade against her sternum—not in pain, necessarily, but delight at that pain.

The scar had to still be there, of course. The reminder of its existence, swathed in the heavy winter fabrics she wore now, made his fingers itch. If he could just get his hands on her—get his mouth on her, if she would just stop being so obtuse—but he didn’t think he’d be so fond of her if she wasn’t.

“The same way the government probably drove you and your siblings back to the compound and dropped you off,” she replied at last, her voice tight, “isn’t that right?”

John flashed his teeth at her in a grin. “Very astute, hellcat.”

Her expression tightened at the moniker. She sucked her teeth, fixing her eyes forward again, shifting back into the strategy of being withholding of her attention rather than entertain him.

“Oh, come on,” he said, swinging around in front of her and stopping her single-minded journey across the pastureland. “You can’t say you didn’t miss me even a little bit, Ell.”

“I told you,” she replied tartly, “not to call me that.”

“Because it reminds you of what it was like when we’re together,” he agreed.

An exasperated noise came out of her. “Did you forget that I lied to you?”

“At the end, sure,” John said, eyes flickering over her face. “But I don’t think you’re so good a liar you could lie about all of the times you said please, or the way that you said my name, or—and I think you’ll recall I’ve insisted on this bit from the beginning—the undeniable connection that we’ve had since we met.”

“You are a fucking lunatic,” Elliot snapped, her face flushing red. “And don’t fucking talk about me like I’m—like I wasn’t there, I know what I—” She sucked in a sharp breath; lower, and more threatening, “I’m aware of what I said. Of what I did.”

“And you’re going to tell me that it was all fake?” he prompted, unwilling to let go of this little thread. Gripping, sliding through his fingers, but he wouldn’t be so quick to let it escape him now that he didn’t have to think about her mother pitching in an unwanted opinion. “That you lied the whole time and you don’t feel anything for me, that—”

“Of course it wasn’t fake,” she bit out. Her voice had gone venomous, sharp, unbridled in its timbre. “I’m not a fucking psychopath, John, I can’t fake loving someone like you can.”

John opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. He hadn’t been expecting that. Sure, there was a part of him that was sure Elliot had her doubts about his intentions, otherwise she wouldn’t have fucked off to the middle of nowhere (nor turned them in), but—still?

“You think I—” He paused again, blinking. “You’re not that stupid.”

Her eyes narrowed. Everything about her stiffened, quite suddenly, like maybe she was bracing to take another swing at him. “You are fucking begging for a punch to the face.”

“I mean,” John began quickly, waving his hands a little, “that you surely don’t think that whole time I was just—”

Elliot made a disgusted sound and brushed past him, letting out a high whistle; the sound immediately drew a flurry of activity as a flock of birds when bursting from the treeline, followed closely behind by Boomer’s gray-and-black speckled form. John fell back into step with her, huffing out a breath of air. He was going to table that discussion for later—she was clearly still upset, still a little sore and tender from their departure, and that was fine. There were a lot of things at play concerning his wife’s mood, including but not limited to being pregnant.

So she did, he thought, glancing at her through the corner of his eyes. Love me. Back then, and maybe now, still.

“How have you been sleeping?” is what he said instead, when the moment had spread between them long enough for him to think that he was safe to speak again with incurring her wrath once more. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fine,” she replied, her voice tight.

“Yeah?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational. Elliot blinked once, slow, clearly trying to temper herself. “I just remember what a restless sleeper you were, back home.”

He wanted to say, I saw you at three AM, twice, staring out your window and then walking out into the snow barefoot. I saw you sleepwalking, I know you aren’t sleeping well.

He wanted to say that, and he couldn’t, because if Elliot knew he’d been tailing her for a while she’d go berserk—pull the plug, self-destruct, take whatever loss she had to in order to fucking end him.

“I’m sleeping fine,” the redhead reiterated. For a second, she looked like she wanted to say something; her eyes flickered uneasily, like something was bothering her and she hadn’t been able to say it to anyone but maybe she wanted to, and maybe she could say it to him, but something in the treeline drew her attention away. They were about ten yards away, now, the low breeze skimming pine needles against each other as Boomer barked conversationally at the birds that had so rudely taken flight.

Elliot’s molars clicked, grinding together. Her lashes fluttered, and she sucked in a sharp little breath through her nose.

“Elliot?” John glanced at the trees, but that was all he saw—tall, dark pines, bunching together erratically through years of growth spurts and inevitable fellings. He turned his gaze back to his wife, gaze inquisitive. “What?”

“Don’t you—?” She stopped herself, and sucked in another sharp breath, and now John felt the concern spike sharp and hot in him, because when he reached up she didn’t even seem to register his movement; Elliot, the same woman who had snatched his wrist and threatened to snap it in half for having the audacity to ‘sneak up on her’ when he’d been in the middle of talking to her, completely transfixed on something that he couldn’t see.

“Elliot.” He tried something firmer this time, his hand coming up to sweep the strands of her hair away from her shoulder and neck. The gesture finally startled her out of wherever it was she had gone, yanked her back to reality.

Her shoulder bunched up to her jaw in an effort to deter his hand, swatting at him absently with her hand. “Don’t touch me.”

“Are you going to tell me where you were just now?” John asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

“I was here. Just thought I saw something in the trees,” she replied tightly, turning away from the treeline and clearing her throat. “Just birds.”

Just birds, she said, even though the birds had already taken off and the forest was otherwise still and serene. Behind her, Boomer whined before beginning to follow her back towards the house. Elliot moved with a newfound purpose, one that she had been distinctly lacking before.

His mouth pressed into a thin line. John turned his attention back to the trees, searching for anything—any tangle of branches of play of shadows that might read sinister or threatening.

Only the trees and their shadowy pines. He thought about that night he’d fished Elliot out of the Family’s grip, when she’d been so fucking drugged up to her gills that she’d balked at the sight of the treeline on their way out. I don’t think I can, she’d said then, her voice pitching high with the anxious vibrations of panic. John, I don’t think I can—

“John,” Elliot snapped from ahead of him, “are you coming, or are you just gonna stand there all fucking afternoon?”

He thought about the way Ase had grabbed her hand, blood and viscera coating Elliot like she’d become a tried-and-true Scream Queen. If he searched long enough, if he sat in the memory long enough—did Ase’s mouth open? Had she said something to Elliot? What had she said?

“John,” came the grinding demand, again, less patient than before. “As much as I would love to leave you to freeze to death for insinuating I’m stupid, mama would hate to have to deal with a corpse on her property and I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I missed our banter,” he replied, though the jest did not quite land the same way that it would have were he not so deep in his own thoughts. By the time he’d started walking in her direction, his back to the forest, something uneasy had settled just under his skin; the feeling of being watched, eyes on the back of his neck, anticipation prickling along like his spine.

The house loomed, polished and pristine, on the horizon; as they picked their way across the snowy field, Elliot puffing out breaths occasionally from the labor of it all, John tried to shake that pervasive feeling of dread that had settled over him.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Weyfield was just Weyfield, a small town not unlike Hope County, and maybe he was just jumpy from the way the Family had conducted their business, and maybe it was the same for Elliot, who had certainly been put through a different experience than he—but regardless:

The sooner they got out, the better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Shouldn’t have agreed to let him drive me here.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

It was stupid. Stupid, I should have put my foot down, told him to fucking stay at the house and wait for me to come back.

“Elliot?”

She blinked, vision fuzzing and refocusing around the sterile white of the doctor’s office. Her abdomen was sticky, and the ultrasound machine had been turned off along with her shirt tugged back down. Like usual, Dr. Harding did not say anything about the gossamer-webbing of scars, but did pause upon first seeing them, as though she hadn’t seen them times before.

“Sorry?” Elliot said, the apology quirking up at the end in question. She sat up from the bed, the paper crinkling beneath her as she moved.

“I asked,” Harding reiterated, “have you been getting enough sleep?”

Elliot knew the answer. She felt the exhaustion souring in her mouth already, the way something spoiled when it went too long without attention. A sickness. She should say that she hadn’t been sleeping well at all, that she’d begun sleepwalking, that

(seeing things, I’m seeing things when I close my eyes and when I look in the dark treeline, I see faces, heads, people I don’t know but they feel familiar and their faces drop down in between the branches of trees on invisible silk threads and their terrible dark mouths open but they can’t scream)

she’d been feeling out of sorts, as of late. That seemed like a nice way to put it.

The dark images that had fluttered between the trees on her walk earlier that morning with John felt as real as any memory—and that wasn’t to say that her memories always felt real, because they didn’t. But the validity of this morning’s waking nightmare of floating heads drifting between tree-trunks, swinging loosely while John asked her how she’d been sleeping.

“Fine,” Elliot said after a moment, feeling a fresh wave of nausea come over her. “I think, um, maybe the stress about the baby is keeping me up at night.”

Harding regarded her for a moment. The severe sharpness of her dark hair pinned back did nothing to soften her expression—though the woman was hard-pressed to be cheerful, she, at the very least, never sugar-coated anything. “Have you been trying those breathing exercises before bed? And spending time at the stables, as I suggested?”

“I have,” she replied, which wasn’t entirely untrue—she was doing at least one of those things. “It’s just been a lot of—stress, is all. I’m sure it’ll get better once the holidays are over.”

“That can definitely help,” the woman agreed, nodding her head and typing a few loose notes into the computer. “If you find that you aren’t getting enough sleep—enough,” she continued, pointedly, “restful sleep, you let me know and we can figure out some next steps.”

Elliot nodded, coming to a stand; the sudden movement had her head rushing, and she for a second she thought again of the floating heads, swaying with the breeze through the pine boughs.

“I’ve been sleep-walking,” she blurted out impulsively, her doctor’s gaze turning quizzically towards her. “I mean—um, just twice.”

“Do you have a history of it?”

“No,” Elliot began, “but I’ve always been a restless sleeper.”

“It’s not uncommon for sleepwalking to increase with pregnancy, Miss Honeysett,” the doctor replied, her voice even-keel. “It sounds like you’re under quite a bit of pressure, as well. I would suggest trying something mild—an over-the-counter sleep aid would be fine. Unisom is a typical one. Try half of one first, and see how it makes you feel.”

“Okay,” she murmured, sliding her coat back on. Something that was less heavy-duty than the pills her mother had left for her might be good. “Are there any—symptoms? To sleeping pills?”

The doctor adjusted the glasses on her nose, regarding her for a long moment. “Some adverse side-effects, on occasion. Usually with stronger, prescription sleep aids, you could have worsening anxiety and depression, day-time drowsiness. That kind of thing.”

So, no hallucinations, then. No sleepwalking, no lost time, no...

“Are you having other symptoms?” Harding asked.

You’ll think I’m crazy, Elliot thought, you’ll think I’m fucking nuts if I tell you about my dream with the television, and Joey’s body, and walking out nearly to the treeline in my sleep clothes. You’ll think I’m fucking nuts and I’ll have to be committed.

So Elliot said, “No, just curious,” and Dr. Harding hummed as she scribbled the name of the sleep aid onto a sticky note for Elliot to take out with her.

“You have a healthy baby, Miss Honeysett. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” The brunette gestured for Elliot to head out the door, walking with her back up the hallway that led to the front lobby once again. “Next appointment we can find out the gender, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, surprised. Was it that soon already? Had it already been that long of being—like this? With child? She swallowed, pleasant little flutters in her chest. It was the first time that she’d felt something other than dread concerning the baby. Well, first time, sans John’s annoying little assertion about his claim. Why had that bothered her so much?

“You can decide to keep it a surprise,” Dr. Harding added, sound a little amused. “Think about it, and in the meantime, get some rest. Half a pill to start, remember.”

“Will do, thank you.”

She waded through the small collection of people in the lobby and out onto the street. Something strange was humming inside of her—it was sad, she realized, with a little spike of panic. She felt mournful. So fast, and so soon, she would figure out the baby’s gender, and suddenly the baby would be all the more real and she’d have to start thinking about names, she couldn’t have a baby without a name, and how was she supposed to pick a name? How was she supposed to decide something a real human being was going to be saddled with, forever?

Was the baby a Seed? Or a Honeysett?

Which one was she?

“What’re you doing, just standing out here? You’ll freeze.” John’s voice broke her out of her thoughts, shaking her back to reality again. He must have seen her standing there, glassy-eyed in the middle of the sidewalk, from where he’d been waiting—perhaps, if she was lucky, even suffering over the fact that he hadn’t been allowed into the doctor’s appointment—and come out. He’d kicked up a big enough fuss about not getting to come in that she’d said, fine, you can fucking drive me there, but that’s it, and true to his word John hadn’t pressed the matter any further than that.

Even though he wanted to. She could tell he wanted to, the second they had parked on the main street. She could tell he wanted to say, so, maybe I do come in, hm? What do you say to that? But he hadn’t. And that was...something.

Fuck, she needed to stay focused; she couldn’t keep letting her mind wander like that. Twice in less than an hour?

“I was just—thinking,” Elliot replied, feeling exhausted already. John’s brows furrowed at the center of his forehead, and she sighed. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He arched a dark brow loftily. “Like what?”

“Like you fucking care,” she snapped.

“Contrary to what you might believe concerning my feelings for you,” John quipped, his voice tart, “I do have every reason to be invested in the well-being of our baby.”

She thought to reiterate again that the baby was, in fact, hers, and not any part his, as she was doing all the work and John had done nothing to endear himself as an acceptable father-figure, but she was too tired. Something about the doctor’s office and the way she’d had to dodge the truth of how she’d been feeling left her empty, scooped out her insides like she was a Jack-O’-Lantern and left her floating, aimless.

“Ell,” he began. His voice had pitched lower, now, and his hand reached up; she saw it move in the corner of her vision and something inside her said, yes yes yes, this is what we want, we remember you, we know you. He twisted a loose curl around his finger, letting it smooth out against her shoulder, the corner of his mouth ticking upward when she absently batted his hand away. “Tell me about the appointment. Did everything go well?”

“The baby is fine,” she told him, and then sighed. “I mean—healthy. The baby is healthy. The doctor wants me to pick up an over-the-counter sleep aid, so we’ll need to stop at the store on the way home.”

“I thought you were sleeping fine?” John prompted. He sounded sly. His was a gotcha tone, the way he got when he thought he’d walked a particularly fine circle through the holes in what she chose to tell him or not. Elliot’s expression flattened. She ignored the way that he was looking at her—hungryhungryhungry, always greedy and never, never content with what he had—and fixed her eyes on the passing traffic behind him.

She said, “Just when you’re being somewhat tolerable, you have to go and ruin it.”

“If it’s intolerable for me to point out when you’re withholding information from me about your health,” he demurred, “then I’d prefer intolerable.”

“I cannot believe that I have to say this to you,” Elliot bit out, the sudden spike of irritation flaring hot and violence in her chest, “but I don’t fucking owe you anything. I don’t owe you the truth, or an explanation, and quite frankly, the fact that I allowed you to even chauffeur me to this fucking appointment is a sign that I’m being incredibly generous with you—far more generous than what you deserve.”

John’s teeth flashed in a grin. Before, back in Hope County, the venom had bothered him—he’d hated it, frowned and fought back with a little poison of his own, despised that he had to work so hard to get to the nitty-gritty underneath. But he had once, and perhaps now that he had known her, it only thrilled him.

How frustrating.

“Everything I did,” he said, lowering his voice as he closed some of the small distance between them now, “whether you believe me or not, was for us—”

“Ugh.”

“—and I might have gotten a little heated,” John continued, and this time when he reached up again Elliot’s mouth twisted into a grimace and she tilted her face away, don’t say it don’t say it don’t you fucking say it fuck you fuck you fuck you, “back at the ranch, but I meant it when I said that I l—”

“Honeysett!”

It was Via. Her greeting immediately cut off John’s words, effectively driving a wedge between their metaphorical—and physical—closeness. Snapped her out of the magic of his cologne and his voice and his hand coming up to her shoulder with its grounding weight.

“Missed you at the barn today,” the blonde chirped, cheery as she approached, hands tucked into her fluffy parka pockets. Her eyes flickered over to John, inquisitive. “Friend?”

And then Via turned her eyes back to Elliot, waiting expectantly. It struck her quite suddenly that Sylvia was checking—that despite the kindness and warmth in her voice, she was giving Elliot the opportunity to escape, to wave a red flag and ask for help. She said friend?, and what she meant was, is this man bothering you?, and it made a fuzzy warmth spread right through Elliot’s chest, uncomfortable in the softness is inspired in her.

“Hey, Via, this is...” How best to proceed? How to explain, this man is the father of my baby—which, by the way, I’m pregnant—and also technically we are legally married, oh and also he’s supposed to be in Federal custody right now but he isn’t, somehow, but it’s fine, we’re all good? “...my...John.”

Sylvia eyed her for a moment, sticking out a gloved hand. “Howdy, Elliot’s John. I’m Sylvia.”

John was clearly trying not to have the biggest shit-eating grin on his face as he shook Via’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Sylvia,” he replied pleasantly, once again reminding Elliot that the man was a tried-and-true practiced liar and could slip a perfect face on at any time. The knowledge was almost enticing, to know that she’d seen him without the masquerade, more than once.

It made, in hindsight, reflecting back on that moment he’d come unraveled at the ranch—No way, baby, I’m fucking it for you—have a different light. She had done that to him.

Good.

“Y’all busy?” Sylvia asked, blissfully not prying any further for an elaboration on what the nature of their relationship was. “I was just about to meet Wyatt at the Wild Rose. It ain’t trivia night, but they do have a live band playing tonight that’s supposed to be good.”

“Oh,” Elliot said faintly, “I don’t think—”

“That sounds excellent!” John interrupted. “I’ve barely seen anything of Weyfield. What do you say, Elliot?”

I say you can eat shit, she thought, but Sylvia was watching her closely—trying to make sure everything was okay, she supposed, considering Elliot had said nothing of John since they’d become friends. She took in a little breath and looked at the blonde, giving a small smile.

“No harm in a little time out of the house,” she agreed after a moment. “I’m starving, anyway.”

She wasn’t hungry in the least. The sticky note with the doctor’s suggested sleep aid was crumple in her pocket, and a little sweaty from the way she’d been clutching it, but somehow the idea of returning back to the house only seemed to fill her with more dread.

The tv, buzzing static, dull and thrumming in the back of her head, in the roots of her molars. HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? And the heads, twisting and turning in the breeze, their silk-spun puppet threads invisible, their mouths swinging open as they try to scream.

HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?

“Well, can’t have you starvin’,” Sylvia said amusedly, looping her arm through Elliot’s own and beginning to walk. “You’re not keeping my girl well-fed, Mister John?”

“Trying my hardest,” John replied, his gaze sly, “but she can be a bit ornery.”

“Hm, that does sound like her. Where are you visitin’ from, anyway?”

As they chattered, over her, John on one side and Sylvia on the other, Elliot got the distinct impression that her friend was quietly, politely fishing for information without putting Elliot under the stress of it.

HAVE YOU

Snow underfoot. The forest breathing, expanding, swelling because it holds some great, dark beast just waiting for her to get close enough.

BEEN HAVING

(Itwaitsforyouitwaitsforusallanditwillhaveyou)

STRANGE

“Careful,” John cautioned, reaching for the door with all of the gentlemanly nature of a man not possessed by the devil to hunt her down across states, “it’s slick.”

He opened the door into the Wild Rose, the sweep of warm air rushing over her a pleasant shock to her system that managed to draw her back to reality. Sylvia nudged her inside, effectively planting herself between Elliot and John as they moved single-file into the crowded bar.

She was tired, and having nightmares, and once she finally got some sleep she would feel a lot better about everything. All she needed was some sleep. And in the meantime, try to enjoy her time with her friends as best she could.

Get some sleep. Feel better in the morning. Burke’s old mantra popped up in her head, running through the worn grooves that were a sad, bittersweet sort of comfort to her now; the second you think you can’t anymore, you keep going anyway. Dig, dig, dig, until her fingers were dirt-packed and bloody, as deep as she fucking needed to go to keep moving, because it wasn’t just about her anymore.

Get some sleep.

Feel better in the morning.

Sylvia had drifted out from their little formation to make her way to the booth they had recently staked out as their own, where Wyatt already sat waiting and waving for them. John planted his hands on her shoulders, squeezing and lowering his mouth to her ear. “What do you want to drink?”

“You’re acting awfully domestic for someone who should be in Federal custody,” Elliot replied lowly, looking at him over her shoulder just in time to see him flash a smile that was all teeth.

“C’mon, hellcat,” and he all but purred the words at her, making her skin prickle in a type of anticipation that wasn’t purely dread. Traitorous, treacherous body. “You can at least play at liking me while your friends are around.”

“Iced tea.” She shrugged, disembarking his hands from her shoulders. “No lemon. A lot of ice. Think you can swing it without, I don’t know, lying halfway to Hell on your way there, Slick?”

“Anything,” he replied, pitching his voice even lower amidst the din of the bar, “for my lovely wife.”

Elliot’s head snapped around, ready to grab a fistful of his shirt and remind him to watch his fucking mouth, but he’d already started his journey to meander through the crowd and reach the bar on his little fetch quest.

Fucker, she thought, even when her stomach twisted with something other than vicious disdain. John had only been here for a day and was already too comfortable taking liberties; she’d have to make sure that got nipped in the bud before he got any funny ideas about his own personal redemption arc.

It would have been nice, to just be able to turn off any and all feelings whenever she wanted. But she couldn’t, and that meant she’d have to do the next best thing:

Get John the fuck away from her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Eden’s Gate did not make a good first impression. Eden’s Gate did not even make a good second or third impression; in fact, Isolde had come to the conclusion that Joseph’s little compound was incapable of making any impression that didn’t fill the observer with a sense of despair. Every time she stepped out of the little building Jacob had set her up in, she was overwhelmed with disgust—eyes followed her, but none of them held anything beyond a dull spark of interest, nearly smothered by what seemed to have been a full-body beat down by the other cult.

The other cult, she constantly had to remind herself, because that’s what Eden’s Gate was. A cult.

A few miserable days at the hands of Montana’s coldest winter by record had her in a foul mood. The snowfall seemed inevitable, like it wouldn't ever stop, and the amount of times there had been paths shoveled between buildings—all leading to the chapel—were equally endless. Isolde couldn’t imagine coming to fucking Montana for fun, let alone for work, and yet she was somehow here for the latter and not the former. Distinctly, painfully lacking in fun.

It didn’t help that Joseph was insufferable. It didn’t help that every time he fixed his eyes on her, she felt an uncomfortable heat dripping down her spine like some kind of molten IV, like they hadn’t left on the worst of terms. Like she hadn’t told him to get the fuck out of her loft, like she hadn’t thrown an engagement ring on the floor like it was poison.

That was a time of her life that she had the distinct desire to not revisit, not even once, and yet in his presence—she found it nearly impossible to ignore. Joseph seemed to take a special, muted pleasure in making her hackles raise, and at least that hadn’t changed about him.

“Sol!”

Jacob called to her from halfway down the compound’s yard, a truck idling beside him. She stopped her trek back to her little hovel and looked at him, arms crossing over her chest.

“You wanna get out for a little?” He inclined his head toward the truck. “I’ve got some errands to run.”

“What kind of errands do the Collapse dictate?” she asked.

“The important variety.”

“Hm.”

She didn’t elaborate on that any further, and Jacob waited only one heartbeat before he reached for the driver’s side door and opened it, slowly.

“Going once—”

“I am not a child, Jacob.”

“—going twice—”

Fuck, did she want to get out.

“Fine,” Isolde snapped, “but bring that truck here. I’m not hiking through a snowdrift to get to you.”

Jacob, sounding quite pleased with himself, replied, “I thought you weren’t a child?”

He seemed moved enough by the dramatic eyeroll to oblige her, and if he found it annoying, it didn’t show; enough so, at least, that Isolde was able to clamber into the passenger side of the truck once he pulled it around, tapping the snow off of her shoes before pulling herself in.

“Thank you,” she huffed, shutting the door and rubbing her fingers to circulate the blood again. “This weather’s a bit abnormal, don’t you think?”

“Not anything out of the ordinary for this time of year, no,” Jacob replied. He nudged the windshield wipers on, plowing a thin layer of snow that had already begun to accumulate off of the window before starting to pull out of the compound. “I think you’re just not suited to the snow.”

“Could have told you that myself,” Isolde snipped. “I’m a hot-blooded creature.”

Jacob made a noise, something like an mm, a place between agreement without incriminating himself by agreeing too fervently or elaborately. She glanced over at him through the corners of her eyes as they turned onto the highway. In the comfortable silence that elapsed between them, Isolde settled back against the seat of the truck and tried to appreciate being out from the stifling dread of the compound.

It did seem to her that Joseph was markedly different than he had been, before. In the few instances in the last couple of days where he hadn’t been picking a fight with her, it almost felt normal—but of course, he was doing it in his own way, this pot-stirring, this instigating. With politeness. With kindness. By remaining completely unrattled by anything she said to him, every, any critique, so self-assured in his righteousness that not even reason could make him look twice at the state of his congregation.

Then, he had always been that way. Righteous. Assured. She had found it appealing, once—she liked a man with confidence—but now she found it—

Equal parts frustrating and attractive. Objectively, of course. Not anything that she felt herself.

“Trying to account for the bodies of the Family against the ones we know we saw before,” Jacob explained, when she had been quiet long enough to let him sort out his thoughts. “Seems like they started killing themselves, in pairs, once the two leaders were done with. I sent out a couple of scouts and they radio’d back some locations, but they’ve gone quiet for a while.”

“Dedication,” Isolde murmured, digging the nail of her thumb into her lower lip. “How dreadful.”

“The dedication, or the act?”

“Both. Imagine being so bound to something or someone.”

Jacob’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, and he brought the truck to a crawl. Two bodies, swallowed by snow nearly up to their waists, sat propped against the cliff face. He fished a pad of paper and a near-worn out pencil out of the center console of the truck and held them out to her.

“Mark it down, Sol.” When she blinked at him, he continued, “What, you thought you were gonna get out and not help me?”

“Well, I was hoping.”

She sighed, taking the pad and pencil—a glorified secretary is what I am, she thought bitterly—and marked two tally marks down. From where the car was stopped, she could see that the arms of the corpses came together, and though it was buried in snow, she had to think that beneath the white frost their hands were intertwined.

They went like that for a while; Jacob would drive to a spot, have her mark down the amount of bodies, and then go on. By the time they had reached Fall’s End, Isolde had counted nearly twenty dead bodies. As they rolled into the far end of town, Isolde realized very quickly that most of the buildings were blackened, and when she rolled down her window, the stale scent of charcoal still sat in the air.

“What happened here?” she asked, grimacing and scrunching up her nose.

“Dunno,” Jacob replied tightly. “Someone with an agenda.”

Isolde’s gaze snapped to him, to try and wring any information out of his expression, but true to his nature Jacob remained completely unreadable. It wasn’t until they had gotten to what appeared to have once been a bar and tallied up the bodies there that Jacob threw the truck into park.

“What in the fuck?” he muttered, eyes fixed forward. When Sol followed his gaze, she realized that it was fixed on someone—someone running towards them, frantically, nearly falling over themselves in the snow.

“Is that one of yours?” she asked. “Jacob?”

“Shh.”

He had busied himself fishing around in the back seat, and as he did Isolde squinted, trying to get a better look at what was going on. The man running definitely had to be Eden’s Gate—he had the big red emblem on his shirt, but he wasn’t wearing any coat, and—

And there were others.

“Jacob,” Isolde said, “there are more.”

“What?”

“Bodies,” she managed out, “there are more bodies.”

The snow wasn’t so deep on the roads that she couldn’t see the width of a body, and she did—see it, that is, tousled dark locks reflecting wet and sticky in the overcast, late-afternoon light. The man running was waving his arms and yelling for help, and then he fell over one of the bodies, fell to his hands and knees over the body of someone else, and made a sound kind of like anguish.

Jacob finally managed to pull out what he’d been looking for—a pair of binoculars—and immediately lifted them to his face.

“Shit,” he said. “Fuck, they’re ours.”

“All of them?” Isolde demanded. “They’re all—”

“Yes,” he bit out, opening the driver’s door and grabbing the rifle from the back seat. “They’re all ours. Isolde, stay in—”

Jacob’s words were cut off by the violent crack of a gunshot. For a split second, Isolde saw nothing; in the space between heartbeats, sluggish from panic, she saw the arterial spray coming from the back of the running man’s body before he hit the ground, screaming.

He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead, he was still crawling, dragging himself through the snow, leaving a smear of red behind him, and that’s when Isolde saw them.

Jacob had stopped moving as well. The person at the far end of the main road leading through Fall’s End had yet to shoulder their weapon. From here, Isolde could see that she was tall—short-cropped, blonde hair, swathed in dark clothes, but beyond that the features were near impossible to make out.

“Close the door,” Isolde hissed, not moving, her instincts screaming to duck but the fear that sudden movement would draw attention prevailing. “Jacob, close the fucking door.”

The eerily satisfying click-click of what could only be the bolt-action rifle in the hunter’s hands clattered around in her head. The rifle was returned to their shoulders, brought up level, and then fired again.

Out of pure instinct, Isolde flinched—but once again, the bullet was aimed not at them, but at the man already crawling in the snow. The sound of the gunshot, and the subsequent bullet-on-bone impact, was enough to make her stomach churn; now, at least, the man lay slumped in the snow, one of the many bodies that seemed to have been the unfortunate pull-and-fire clay birds for the stranger.

“Who,” Isolde whispered furiously, as Jacob carefully put the truck into drive without letting it move forward at all first, “Jacob, who the fuck is that?”

The redhead’s expression was unforgivingly tight, pulling taut with it the scars and mottling of his skin visible outside of his beard. He wasn’t looking at her, but rather kept his eyes fixed forward, as he closed the driver’s side door.

“Fifteen men,” he ground out between his teeth, “that’s fifteen fucking men I sent out here to figure out the body count.”

The stranger finally lowered their rifle, apparently satisfied with their work. This far away, it was hard to tell, but Isolde got the distinct impression that they were being watched, looked at now, where before the attention had been elsewhere.

And then it was confirmed, because the stranger lifted one gloved hand and pressed her index and middle fingers right against the hollows of her jaw. A snakebite. A cut right to the carotid. A message.

Jacob cranked the wheel, the tires shrieking in protest against the snow as he pulled between buildings in a sudden rush of acceleration. The stranger was quickly cut out, stifled by the side of the used-to-be-bar, leaving them out of direct range of a sniper rifle. Not that her companion seemed that pleased about it, anyway.

“Fuck,” he bit out, seething as he tried to navigate the narrow space in the clumsy Eden’s Gate truck. “Fuck, did you count how many bodies were on the ground?”

“Hm, no!” Isolde snapped viciously. “I was a bit too busy trying to make sure they were going to shoot us!”

Jacob gritted out another string of swears between his teeth, turning the truck until he could take what looked to be a back alley in the opposite direction of their little hunter. He checked the rearview mirror frequently; his expression was set in a deep frown, and he only looked at her once before continuing his regular scanning of the road behind them.

“Well, aren’t you going to turn around?” she demanded.

“For what?” Jacob replied flatly. “I’ve got a hunting rifle, not my HTI.”

“I don’t know what that means, and I don’t care,” Isolde bit out.

“It means, the chances of me getting shot before I get a shot on them are significantly lower,” he told her, his knuckles whitening along the steering wheel, “and as confident as I am that I could kill them before they killed me, I’m not confident they wouldn’t take a shot at you first.”

Isolde’s stomach rolled. It wasn’t the violence that bothered her—it wasn’t the death, or the guns, or even the blood—but the message itself. The Stranger had been hunting the Eden’s Gate men and women for sport. For fun. To pass the time, while they waited. But what for? What could they be waiting for?

She stayed quiet, listening to Jacob radio back to the compound quick, short orders that flew right over her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about it—the gesture. The stranger. Who were they? The remainder of the other cult, perhaps? What were they waiting for?

You’re next, that two-fingered, snake-bite-right-to-the-carotid gesture had said.

You’re next, and I’m coming for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sylvia did not seem that impressed with John Seed, and Elliot could not blame her.

John was exceptionally charming. So charming, in fact, that he and Wyatt seemed to get along smashingly. It was almost frustrating, how quick the blonde took to John—but then, Wyatt did strike as the type of man who got along with everybody until they gave him a reason to think otherwise. After all, he’d been kind to her, and she was...

Needless to say, Sylvia was a harder sell, which was nice. Reassuring. It made Elliot feel more grounded, to see Sylvia politely smile at John’s chatter—she’d nearly forgotten how much he liked to talk—but then decidedly turn to Elliot to ask her about something or dive into a different conversation. It was pointed, and if the way John watched them interact was any indication, the message of it was not lost on him.

By the time the evening had drawn to a close, for her and John at least, the brunette had departed to go warm-up the Jeep and left her standing by the doorway, keeping warm, with Sylvia.

“You sure you’re doin’ okay?” the blonde asked after a moment, propped up against the wall in the tiny little doorway that led out to the main street. “You look tired. Stressed out. I was worried when we didn’t hear from you this morning, about comin’ to the barn.”

Elliot felt a little pang of guilt digging in, just there below her sternum. “I’m okay,” she promised. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I—had a doctor’s appointment this morning that I completely forgot about until my mama reminded me, and John showed up this morning too, so it’s just been...”

“A crazy day,” Via agreed, her nose crinkling cutely in amusement. “He’s a funny fella, that John of yours.”

Oh, if only you knew. “I think so, too.”

“What is he?” she asked, conversationally. “Maybe a—car salesman?”

Her friend’s playful jab was enough to elicit a laugh, billowing out of her and catching even herself by surprise. But then, she shouldn’t have been shocked to find that Sylvia had gotten a quick read on John. Given the way she’d quickly diverted from the attention on Elliot’s scar and carried on, she thought maybe Via was more perceptive than she liked to let on.

“Lawyer,” Ell replied, and Via winced comically.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean—Elli,” Via intoned playfully, “he might as well be sellin’ you snake oil when he’s a lawyer.”

Elliot sighed ruefully, glancing out the window to see John clambering out of the front of the jeep. Snake oil seemed a light judgment for him, all things considered.

“Hey, Via,” she began, swallowing a little, “if I tell you something, you’ve gotta promise you won’t say anything?”

Via regarded her curiously, head tilted. “Okay, sure, Freckles. What’s up?”

She shifted on her feet. “John and I are actually, um—” Elliot paused, swallowing thickly. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to, because saying it out loud—her, and not John—made it real. Gave it legs. Forced her to face what had happened and what she couldn’t change yet.

“You don’t have to,” Via told her gently. “I could tell there was somethin’—you know, out of sorts. You don’t get a slick-talkin’ lawyer grinnin’ like the cat what ate the canary if he hasn’t done somethin’ to piss a woman off.”

Elliot shook her head. “We’re actually, uh,” she tried again, pulling at a loose thread on her shirt, “m—married.”

Saying the word out loud didn’t feel as wretched as she thought it would, which was almost three times as concerning. She felt, instead, more dread waiting for Sylvia’s reaction—waiting to see what her one friend had to say or think about that.

The woman’s face screwed up comedically. “Oh, Freckles,” she said, her tone teasing. “Say it ain’t so.”

“I’m not kidding!” Elliot felt a nervous little laugh bubble out of her. “I mean—what, Via? You clearly have an opinion on him.”

“I don’t know the man from Jack walkin’ down the street,” Sylvia demurred. “I just think...well, I just think you’re a real peach, you know? And you didn’t seem too pleased to have this John walkin’ around, and I take that kind of thing seriously.”

Sighing, Elliot scuffed her shoe against the ground, watching John pick his way through the crowd back down the street.

“We left on—bad terms, sort of,” she explained. “He showed up to make amends.”

“Do you want to make amends?”

The question caught her off-guard. It was an obvious one—obvious in that, it should have been one of the first things anyone asked her regarding John, even John himself, and yet: no one had. Not a single person had asked her if she wanted to suffer through making amends with the man who had lied to her, violated her trust, and still somehow managed to be the one person she didn’t have to fear seeing the worst, ugliest parts of her.

“I don’t know,” Elliot said after a moment, clearing her throat. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then I will reserve judgment,” Sylvia replied firmly, “so you can make a decision on your own.”

The door to the street opened, bringing with it not only a waft of chilly wind, but John himself and the scent of his viciously-expensive cologne. It took every ounce of Elliot’s self-control not to burst into laughter at the absurdity of it—John Seed, charisma-extraordinaire, somehow managing to make poor first impressions both on her mother and her friend.

“Car’s all warmed up,” John announced, rubbing his hands together. He glanced between the two women, the corner of his mouth ticking upward. “What’s so funny, hm?”

“Nothing,” Elliot replied. “Just talking about you.”

This piqued his interest. He said, “Good things, I hope,” and she could see it on his face—the painful reminder of the way John had craved Joseph’s approval, the way he’d lit up like a nuclear mushroom cloud the second Joseph deigned to say anything remotely kind to him.

“Jury’s still out,” Sylvia said lightly, and then flashed a pretty smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “But don’t worry bud! We’ll get you there eventually.”

John tried very hard to feign polite laughter, but the uneasiness bled through readily—and it was a little satisfying, to see John squirm, to see him out of his element, no longer surrounded by a constant chorus of Yes hitting his dopamine centers nonstop. No wonder the man had a conniption anytime someone dared to dislike him.

“Better get this lady home, she looks like she’s about to fall asleep standing,” Sylvia announced, reaching and giving Elliot a gentle hug. “Night, Freckles.”

“Goodnight.”

John and Sylvia bid each other a pleasant goodbye as Elliot stepped out onto the street, careful to avoid icier parts of the concrete as she made her way to the car. Her brain felt fuzzy—a lot of socializing, a lot of time spent trying not to let John get to her. It had been long enough since she’d had to hold her walls up for so long that she felt exhausted from doing it, even for this long.

Maybe that was his strategy. Wear her down, then swoop in, just like last time.

“Did you have fun?” John asked, and she realized that she was at the car, having climbed into the passenger seat already. He closed the driver’s side door, settling in before carefully beginning to back out of the parking spot.

“I mean, having you loom over my shoulder the entire night was a little odd.”

He made an affronted sound. “I was not looming.”

“You were,” Elliot told him, “a little.” She paused, feeling the exhaustion pulling at the edges of her vision, begging for her to close her eyes—but she couldn’t. Not in the car, not with John driving. If she did, he might just keep driving and not turn back around. “It’s funny—”

“My quote-unquote looming?”

“How much different you are,” she finished, “when you’re not around Joseph.”

John was clearly trying very hard not to look like he was stiffening at her words. Gotcha, she thought, with a little pinprick of pride. Yeah, I didn’t forget. I didn’t forget how much you hated it when I brought him up.

“I don’t know what you mean,” John replied, keeping his voice light. “I’m exactly the way I’ve always been.”

“You haven’t tried to drown me a single time.”

“That time was a miscommunication,” he insisted. “I wasn’t trying to drown you. Just—coerce you. And besides, that’s behind us now. I know you, Elliot Honeysett, intimately, which means such forms of brute persuasion aren’t required.” He paused. “It’s much better when you indulge me willingly, anyway.”

Elliot’s nose crinkled. “You sound fucking nuts when you say that. ‘That one time I thought about drowning you was just a miscommunication’. No wonder Sylvia doesn’t like you.”

“So she told you? That she doesn’t like me?”

He paused for a moment, his gaze flickering over to her, and when he saw the very subtle upturn of her mouth he exhaled out of his nose.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Not necessarily. But if I was—it would be the least you deserve.”

He was different, out from the insane pressure of the cult, out from under Joseph’s thumb. It was like, given room to breathe, he was suddenly relearning what it was like to make his own decision—to exist outside of Joseph. Back in Hope County, John had been fervent in his belief that he owed Joseph everything. Maybe the distance had done him some good.

Don’t, something inside of her insisted viciously, as she turned her attention out to the side of the road where the headlights illuminated snowdrift after snowdrift. Don’t get soft on him. That’s how he got you last time, you know. Don’t let it happen again.

But if he wanted to press the issue about Sylvia—or about her comment concerning Joseph—John seemed to exercise a remarkable amount of self-control and instead focused on driving. In the quiet, without him chattering on about doing things for them or how much he missed our banter, it was almost...Comfortable.

“Finding out the gender,” Elliot said after a moment, the exhaustion now settling like a deep chill in her bones. “Of the baby, I mean. At the next appointment.”

The brunette shifted in his seat. In an attempt at nonchalance, he said, “Oh, yeah?”

What am I doing? she thought. He plays nice for one night. He’s good at that. Short-term goodness.

“I’m nervous,” she added after a moment. “About finding out.”

“Not excited?” John tilted his head.

“No,” she admitted. “Nervous.”

Ahead of them, she saw the dark blur of a figure. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. John was saying something—something about how he’d read a number of books and it was normal to feel nervous, or some other kind of psycho babble—but she shifted forward in her seat, eyes straining to see.

“Slow down,” she said, “I think there’s a dog...?”

“What?” John asked. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Just up ahead. Have you not been paying attention to the road?”

He made an indignant sound—“I am the best driver between the two of us, you know,”—but before Elliot could think up a response, the dark, furred creature slowed down ahead of them, stopped in the middle of the road, and turned its head.

The headlights caught it immediately. It was a dog, four-legged and large and shaggy black fur, but when it turned its head, it was a man’s face, the mouth slung open and the gently-rounded teeth of a human’s mouth blaring white in the headlights. Something dark and slick oozed between the teeth, in that split second, she watched the dog-human-creature push off from the ground and stand on its two hind legs.

She screamed, and John swerved, and immediately threw the car into park and slammed his hand on the hazard lights button.

It was dread, pure dread and fear, sending a pulse of adrenaline straight to her brain. Bent over at the waist, Elliot closed her eyes tight, trying to will the image out of her head, out from behind her irises. John had quickly unbuckled and reached over, his hands doing the same to hers.

“Elliot,” he said urgently, fingers pushing the hair back from her face. “Ell, take a breath, come on—sit up, you have to take a breath—”

“Is—is it gone?” she asked, but the words came out closer to a wail, the fear spiking viciously in the timbre of her voice. Please, God, what the fuck, please let it be gone. God, oh fuck, what the fuck what the fuck— “The—the—”

“There’s nothing—?” John stopped. Elliot frantically scrabbled at the high neck of her parka, fingers shaking and clumsy. “Ell—”

“Can’t breathe,” she managed out. “Too hot, can’t—”

The brunette reached over the console and stilled her hands. She was still bent at the waist, but he made do, pulling the zipper of the parka down until she could pull her arms from it; once it had been deposited in the back seat, his hand went to the back of her neck.

She sat up slowly, her eyes immediately making a frantic search of the road. There was nothing. Only quiet snowfall.

“Where—” She paused, swallowing thickly. “Where did it go?”

“Ell,” John murmured, “there wasn’t anything in the road.”

“What do you mean?” she moaned. “I saw it, the—I saw the—”

“You saw...?” he prompted. His thumb swept across the back of her neck, coaxing.

“The dog,” she insisted. “It was a dog, but it had—it’s face was—it was a man’s face, and it f-fucking—it fucking stood up, John!”

He was watching her carefully, his gaze searching her face for a long moment. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t see anything,” he told her. “Just that you—you just screamed, so I pulled over.”

“I’m not crazy,” Elliot bit out, her voice wobbling.

“I know,” John replied plainly. “Maybe it was just—you know. The snow. In front of the headlights.” And then: “Have you really been getting enough sleep, Ell?”

She felt her lip tremble, the desire to cry almost overwhelming. She couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand John being tender to her, worrying about her, questioning the validity of her saying that she had been sleeping fine because he could see that she couldn’t. He was wretched and wicked and it needed to stay that way.

“Please take me home,” she said finally, re-buckling and rolling the window down to let the cold air on her face. “Please just take me home.”

John waited for a few heartbeats before he turned the hazard lights off and put the Jeep in drive.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he told her after a moment, glancing at her a few times. “I mean it, Ell.”

“Fuck you,” she replied, exhausted and feeling furiously wound up. “Just take me home.”

Get some sleep.

Feel better in the morning.

#my writing #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #ch: helmi #ch: isolde khan #ch: jacob seed #fic: witching hour #she gets a lil face lift #as a treat : ' )#far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #john seed x deputy #fc5 oc #john seed/deputy #normally i would be making more of a commentary in the tags but head empty !!!!#but: thank you thank you anyone and everyone who reads!!! ily!!!!!

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams II

Characters: Diluc, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,273

Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack

Premise: The past is many things. Something to admire, something to learn from, something to hold dear. And yet how unreliable it can be, especially in the hands of ghosts.

In which the reader dreams of the past.

Author’s Note: Translation notes and historical references will come after the fic. The history nerd really came out this time around.

Diluc

You knew that holding onto the past too much was a dangerous game to play. Yet you continued to chase it, desperately looking for something that might finally bridge your present self to the person you’d left behind.

You’d been mostly upfront to Diluc about this obsession of yours. Knowing that your partner also lost his family, it was easier in some ways to grasp onto this shared loss, and to use it as a way to continue on. Not that Diluc ever pushed you to forget your past, as other might have done. Instead he tried to help you, using his not inconsiderable connections to attempt to find as such land that matched the vague descriptions you could give. Though you knew the quest was most likely no more than a wild goose, you greatly appreciated his attempt to help.

However you knew that even someone as kind and understanding as Diluc would never be able to condone something like this.

You rubbed your arms, feeling every inch of the cold musty ruins around you. You’d heard that a sizeable group of Abyss members were gathering here and figured that these figures who boasted of civilizations long gone might be valuable pieces of information. Though sneaking into a gathering of the upper members of the Abyss was perhaps not the smartest thing you’d ever done. It was too late to turn back now however. Ducking into a corner you slowed your breathing, hoping that no one would care to look at the nook in which you were now curled up.

Listening to the slow creaking of the domain you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as the air grew charged with magic. The room around you suddenly grew completely silent, as if even the walls were aware of something important. Not daring to sneak a peak at what was happening you closed your eyes, willing your senses to focus on your ears.

“My brethren, I’m glad to see you.”

Opening your eyes wide you gathered your control, willing yourself to not immediately turn around. The voice was familiar, its cadence smooth and soothing, polished as marble. It struck something within you, some deep hidden memory that you’d long ago forgotten. Now that memory struggled to the surface of your mind, the sketch of a long ago time.

“I know that our plans are continuing smoothly. Soon we will able to Khaenri’ah, and topple those who so callously left it to smolder, having lit the flame themselves. We will one more emerge into the world, no longer required to hide our faces.”

The words passed through you, intangible as air. What were they talking about? Nothing was making sense, not one word was something you could interpret. And yet the voice seemed almost an explanation in itself. If you knew who was talking then you’d find out the answers, or at least some of them. Vraning your head ever so slightly you looked up, jerking back slightly in shock as you found amber eyes staring right at you.

The person who was talking was immensely familiar, everything about them echoed with a long gone familiarity. Looking out of place amidst the rank and file members of the Abyss he exuded a cold sort of confidence, a determination to see his words realized. Staring at him you noticed the emblem which embellished the scarf he wore around his neck, a golden eagle which seemed to move with the fabric. A part of you was tempted to run, but you found yourself frozen, trying desperately to process the figure which danced before your eyes.

The young man said nothing, gaze shifting as he calmly began to speak again, though you couldn’t hear his words over the pounding of your heart. When his gaze once more passed yours he grinned an understanding sort of grin. It was as if you two were cohorts in some sort of pranks of scheme, rather than complete strangers who stood on opposites ends of an invisible struggle. The gesture confused you, and you found yourself sinking back to the ground. Putting your head in your arms you took a few deep breaths. You would figure out what was going on. It was alright, there was a logical explanation for this. Perhaps he just wanted to finish up this odd gathering before turning his minions upon you.

And yet the order to attack never came. After what must’ve been at least an hour the young man declared the gathering over. The air filled with the familiar mark of waypointing, and soon the ruin was once more deadly quiet. Straightening your back you studied the wall opposite of you, sure that you were dreaming a confusing sort of dream.

“You can come out now.”

You jumped, freezing as you wondered what to do. You thought that you were alone, yet he remained. Was this the moment, had you truly just been tricked.

“You don’t have to be so afraid.” Laughter drifted to your ears. “I promise the rest are gone.”

Slowly turning around you peered over the broken wall once more. True to the young man’s word there was no one left, only the two of you. Standing up slowly you summoned your sword, still not trusting the person in front of you.

“What is it?”

“That’s the last thing I expect you to ask.” The young man was smirking now. “Surely there are more important things.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You wound me! Have you truly forgotten the face of your family.”

The words felt jagged, almost accusatory. You stiffened, face twisting into a scowl as you moved your sword slightly forward.

“You’re a liar.”

“I assure you I’m not! Why, I cannot believe you truly have forgotten so much. Is it just me, or have we all been banished from your thoughts?”

Reaching into his pocket he threw something at you. Catching it you stared at the egg, mind full of half-incredulous questions. The egg was evidently a work of ambition and love, its outer shell the color of the night. Diamonds crept up the sides of the egg, embedded into gold that shone even in the dark of your current place. There were four portraits embedded into the sides, studded with diamonds and crowned with stars that seemed so bright and silverly you were almost afraid to run your fingers over them. Something that seemed to be monograms sat underneath the portraits, but the script evaded your understanding.

Shifting your gaze to the portraits you found an even greater surprise. The person staring back at you, a small smile on her face, was you – though you couldn’t recognize the complex dress in which you’d been painted. The portrait was such a good likeness it took your breath away, the miniscule brush strokes truly the work of a master painter. Rotating the egg slowly you recognized the young man in front of you as the next model. Sporting what could only be some sort of military uniform, small medals of red and blue lined up on top of a blue sash, he seemed to be joking with the artist, his cocky smile offset by the stark lighting of his eyes. Next was a woman, somewhat who could only be this boy’s mother. He face was set in a straight line, her expression one of regal aloofness, as if she was thinking of something very far away. She was wearing the same sort of dress as you, though hers was much more complex in nature. The clothing screamed importance, as if to confirm the expression on her face. Lastly you found yourself looking at the portrait of someone who was presumably the boy’s father. Surprisingly under dressed her wore the same uniform as the boy, the only distinction being the number of medals. No crown sat on his head, no sign of any particular regal bearing shone in the portrait; instead there was a tiredness about him, a cloud which betrayed the fact that he was ultimately quite unworthy of remembrance.

“Do you remember now?”

You looked up wildly, denial fighting with realization as you shook your head. This wasn’t remembering; remembering was something else entirely. Remembering wasn’t the feel of the world sinking around you, remembering wasn’t losing faith in the world around you.

“Are you telling me that this means nothing to you?” Accusation flooded the boy’s speech as he glared at you.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I, I don’t trust this.”

“Always the same sister.” The boy’s tone was mocking now. “You always were the suspicious one, and as unambitious as our poor father once was.”

“Was?”

“He’s changed his tune quite a bit. He had too, of course. How could anyone stay so weak after surviving what we survived?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about death. Or as close to it as one can get I suppose. You should know this, you were there when they stormed the place, when they took us away. You were there when we were ordered to the basement.”

A flash of memory danced in your vision, speeding up your breath as you were overtaken by sudden panic. Swaying slightly you screwed your eyes shut, letting out a cry of frustration when the memory only grew stronger. You were dancing for a moment, spinning around with the boy in front of you as a distant melody drifted upon the air. Then you were inside an unfamiliar place, the new space so claustrophobic it squeezed the air out of you, the windows, having been painted over, offered no reprise. Then it was midnight and you were shuffling outside. The stars seemed so distant; they’d stared cold and unfeeling down as you shuffled behind a familiar figure, entering a door which seemed so familiar.

You leaned against the stone wall, trying to find some sort of reprieve in the cold damp of it. Forcing your eyes open you stared once more at the strange boy in front of you. His expression was one of ill-concealed triumph, mixed with barely suppressed rage.

“Do you see now? Do you see what they did to us? A wonder any of us escaped at all, then again I suppose those wretched idiots had no sense of magic. They were after all a bunch of thugs.”

“Where… where was that place?” You heaved slightly, feeling as if the ground was floating underneath you.

“Somewhere long destroyed. No point in thinking of it now. There is only this world after all. This world and the destruction that seized it as well. Only this one can be saved.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Khaenri’ah! The city struck down by the gods who could contemplate no power except their own! Their people suffered the fate of ours, should they not get the revenge we will never be allowed?”

“You’re mad.”

“Am I? Or are you just the same coward as always?” The boy shook his head. Pointing to the egg in your hand he back away. “You can keep it. Think of it as a memento, a way to contact me. If you ever wish to see right, well, I’ll be waiting.”

And then he was gone, so fast it was as if he’d never existed, as if he’d suddenly turned to dust. Sinking to the ground you pushed scalding air into your lungs, watching helplessly as your vision spotted around you. What had you done, oh gods what had you done?

The return trip to the Winery was an excruciating one. At first panic had been your only sensation, as you half stumbled, half crawled your way out of the Abyss’ lair, stopping every few minutes to lay down as to not pass out. The moment you got into the open air you made your way towards the nearest stream, waterlogging yourself in your hurry to pour icy water down your throat. Collapsed on the back you stared up at the sky. It was still night, which meant Diluc was probably guarding Mondstadt. You prayed to Barbatos that he wouldn’t notice your absence, for how could you deal with your shame? You’d been so foolish. How could you have ever expected things to turn out well? Now you were simply paying the price for your arrogance.

Finally lifting yourself up from your position you stumbled the rest of the way to the Winery, careful to keep your mind blank, afraid of what might happen if you let panic once more set in. Tears pricked in your eyes as familiar vines appeared within your sight, and you could’ve cried for joy upon opening the sturdy oaken door and crossing the threshold of the place you’d learned to call home. Creeping upstairs, hoping desperately that you hadn’t managed to wake any of the other residents, you breathed a sigh of relief when you entered the familiar bedroom which you’d grown to call you own. Sinking down onto the coverlet you let out a soft sigh, finally letting tears fall as you drifted off to sleep.

-------

Yet your dreams refused to offer you any sort of reprieve. Finding yourself in a darkened hall you silently passed a variety of rooms, their imposing grandeur a familiar one. Someone seemed to be whispering a song in your ear, though when you turned to see who it was no one appeared.

“How can I desert you, how to tell you why.”

Reaching a room even grandeur than the rest you stared at the chairs that sat on dais on the opposite side from where you entered. They shimmered as if a mirage, and when you went to approach them two figures seemed to appear out of thin air. The man and the woman that were painted into the egg gazed at you with sad eyes, each saying nothing as you continued to make your way towards them.

“Let me have a moment, let me say goodbye.”

“Who are you?” You called out to them. The woman turned her head, as if ashamed of your lapse of memory. The man stood up slowly, arms reaching towards you slightly. Hurrying your pace you moved to meet him, spurred on by some unrecognized emotion.

“Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all.”

You as you reached the man he vanished, red ash falling softly to the ground in his wake. Gasping in horror you watched as the woman did the same. Suddenly the dream began to crumble, burning itself away to reveal nothing but black. Dropping you into an eternal night you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll bless my homeland ‘til I die.”

You bolted up, mind struggling to place where you were. Looking around you, your eyes were met with the familiar comforts of your home. A soft light drifting through the crack in the curtains, the foretelling of the dawn.

Besides you Diluc stirred. Sitting up slowly, rubbing his eyes in a gesture which made your heart squeeze, he glanced at you through sleep eyes.

“Is there something wrong, my love?”

You meant to say no, to assure him that you’d just had a strange dream. Yet the softness of his voice was contrasted so with the venom of the young man and the silence of the people who seemed to have been your family that you found yourself cracking. The sobs were soft at first, but soon you found yourself wailing, not caring how your hoarse voice pierced through the quiet of the Winery.

“My love?”

Diluc immediately wrapped his arms around you, saying nothing as you continued to sob into his chest, staining his nightshirt with tears as you cried out all the tears you could possibly contain. You felt like the world around you was shattering, like nothing was real anymore. You felt as if all you had held to was suddenly gone, and nothing remained but searing contempt.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.”

Diluc carded his fingers through your hair, whispering soft words of comfort as your sobs diminished. Finally you felt completely spent, and as you relaxed in his arms you felt a sudden surge of tiredness, washing over you and calling you once more to the perilous depths of sleep.

“May I ask you what’s wrong?”

You fought your fatigue, disconnecting yourself slightly as to look Diluc in the face. Could you tell him what had occurred? Could you lay bare your weakness, your shame, your guilt? A part of you recoiled at the idea. And yet, as you stared at Diluc you found yourself recounting what happened, shaky breaths accompanying your soft confession. Lowering your gaze you spoke of your night, grateful that Diluc never let his arms leave you.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Why should you be sorry?” Lifting your gaze you found Diluc’s eyes raw, his expression one of surprising honesty.

“I was selfish, and I didn’t expect the consequences of my action. All I could think of was the past, of getting back what I’d once had.”

“And is that not a natural thing?” Diluc took a deep breath, hold on you tightening slightly. “If I could not remember what had happened to my father – if I woke up one day in an unfamiliar place with nothing but a sense of loss – I would go to the ends of the world to find what I’d lost. There is no crime in wanting your loved ones home, even when you cannot recognize them.”

“And yet it seems the only survivor has turned into a monster.”

“Does that make your past love for him any less? Do the bonds of family immediately cut the moment our loved ones turn rotten?”

You thought back to the young man in the ruins, to his mockery and his impatience. You hated him, you hated what he was doing. And yet you missed him, you somehow missed him so much. Turnign towards the nightstand you opened the small drawer. Pulling out the egg you’d been given you examined it in the dim light. How beautiful it was, how different from the image that had been put in front of you.

“Do you wish to forget what you have remembered?” Diluc’s voice was filled with nothing but kindness.

“No.” Even if it embarrassed you to say, you knew it was the truth.

“Then don’t forget it.”

You smiled, placing the egg once more in your drawer. Though it had only been a few words, though this terrible night hadn’t been erased from your memory, you somehow found yourself much lighter. Turning to Diluc you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you.”

Diluc said nothing, merely leaning down to kiss you as well. Cushioned in the familiar sanctuary of his arms you allowed the darkness of your encounter to drift from your mind.

-----

Drifting off to sleep you found yourself once more in a corridor, face to face with the man who was once your father. You stared at him, wondering if he would disappear again.

“Are you truly happy as you are now?”

“Yes.” Somehow you knew it was the truth.

“I see,” the man nodded, a slight smile flashing across his face, “then we shall keep you no longer.”

Leaning over he kissed you softly on the forehead. Next to him now stood the woman who was one your mother. Smiling now, a smile which utterly transformed her melancholy aura, she wrapped you in a hug.

“Do not forget us.” She whispered.

Even as the words were spoken you knew that you never could.

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

The egg that I used this time around is a reference to Faberge eggs. The tradition having been started by Alexander III giving an egg every Easter to Empress Maria Feodorovna, the tradition was continued by Nicholas the second - who gave an egg to his wife and his mother every year. Each egg is a masterpiece of innovation and creativity and is breathtaking in its aesthetic and in the mechanic of hiding its “surprise”. The two eggs I used as reference were the Alexander Palace Egg (1908) and the Twelve Monogram Egg (1896).

The song that I referenced this time around was “Stay I Pray You” from the Anastasia musical. Highly recommend.

The parents are based off of Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna. I do not have time to go into them because we will be here for 300 years. The dresses I mentioned are traditional Russian court gowns. An image will be linked in the reblog.

#genshin impact fanfiction #diluc x reader #diluc #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing

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